Chapter 5.

Sansa had a busy morning and afternoon.

After leaving Sandor alone, she met some landowners and peasants, listened to their complaints and problems carefully, trying to find a solution for each of them. It was one of her regular tasks as the Lady of Winterfell and it often covered a whole morning.

After the row of applicants disappeared, she had a delicious though modest lunch alone (while Sandor Clegane was said to be snoring loudly in the guest room). Later she rode out to visit two families a few miles away to bring them some medicine some of their members needed. Only Ser Thomas accompanied her though she would have preferred going alone. She tried to convince the families to move to Winterfell for safety reasons but these simple people insisted on staying in their old homes they and their ancestors used to live for centuries.

It was already dark when Sansa and Ser Thomas returned to the castle. She felt quite exhausted, mentally and physically as well.

Andrew ran to her holding a torch while one of the Mullen boys led her horse back to the stables to take care of her. He looked really embarrassed.

- Lady Stark.

Sansa was not tired enough not to notice his embarrassment.

- What's wrong, Andrew?

The young tried to deny and shook his head.

- There is nothing wrong, my lady.

Sansa did not feel like solving puzzles. She was looking at him with more intensity.

- Did anything happen while I was away?

She did not want to hear any bad news for the night. All she wanted was to have a delicious dinner, a lovely bath, then a good night's sleep. Tomorrow may be easier, she thought, but who knows what is waiting for me? I need my strength for each day.

Andrew shook his head again.

- Nothing special. It is just the Hound wants to talk to you.

He wants to talk to me, she thought with a little bitterness, but about what and why? He had been commanded to obey for such a long time and now he thinks that he can give orders to me, only because I am younger than him? It did not suit him, she added quickly, he was always polite to me, rude, but polite.

- Where?

- In the guest room. He has not left it since morning.

Sansa wondered if Clegane had been really sleeping during the whole day or perhaps he was reading something – in the corner there was a small bookcase standing, offering about thirty books of old heroic songs and folk tales that she used to love reading. Not his cup of tea, she thought with a little smile, but this smile disappeared when another idea came into her mind. What if, she wondered, he was spending his day plotting something against me, against Winterfell or my little brother?

- I am going.

When Sansa entered the guest room, Sandor Clegane was sitting at the table, drinking wine. He was wearing his new clothes, a dark grey, long-sleeved tunic with trousers, and a pair of strong boots. It was comfortably warm inside, the fire was cracking joyfully.

Sandor stood up while sweeping his eyes around the room. His move was a kind of courtesy, although his rasping voice sounded like mockery.

- I like this place.

Sansa gave him one of her kindest smiles.

- I am really glad to hear about that, Ser Sandor. Did Master Wolkan visit and examine you?

Sandor mumbled with a grin.

- Yeah, there was a grouchy old man touching me all over and treating my wrists. He is talking too much.

- I am deeply sorry if he gave you any trouble, my lord. – the irony could be felt clearly in her voice.

Sandor frowned.

- I am not a lord, you know that. But this is not the reason why I wanted to talk to you.

Sansa sat down gracefully opposite her guest at the other side of the table, and at the next moment Sandor sat down as well.

- What is the reason if I am allowed to know? Maybe you would like to stay for a longer time?

- Maybe. I don't know. – he shrugged. – I want to see more about this place before I decide.

- If you stay, you could help us rebuild Winterfell. Since the Battle against the Dead, the damages have not been repaired completely yet. There are still a lot to do.

Sparks seemed to flash in his eyes.

- How could I help you, Lady Stark? Should I bleed for you again?

- No, I do not expect such sacrifice and I do not need it at all. Warriors are not required now. I need helping hands. My people are hungry and cold, they need houses and food. Some parts of Winterfell are still in ruins. Do you want to help me with this?

Sandor's face darkened a little as he was replying and his bushy brows seemed to cover his eyes.

- I am not a peasant. I won't grow wheat and I won't play with stones.

Sansa felt that his pride was hurt, even though she did not intend to hurt him.

- I need a helping hand around the castle and on the fields much more than a fighting hand with a sword.

Sandor did not give an answer but his long fingers were drumming on the table impatiently.

Sansa was waiting for a reply but when it did not come, she decided to express her request for the last time. She really wanted him to stay – she needed a great warrior like him and she needed to unravel of the secret of his being at Winterfell.

- I just need your help. I know that theoretically you are not a ser, still you always behaved and acted as one towards me when I was weak and foolish. Please help me.

Sandor growled.

- Okay, I'll give it a try. I will do my best as long as I feel good here.

Sansa smiled at him tenderly, trying to hide her joy over his decision. If you can play and keep your secrets, Ser Sandor, she thought, then I am also allowed to play.

- You can stay as long as you want to. I told you that you are my guest and I mean it. If you give me a helping hand, I would be even more grateful than before. I cannot pay you with much gold…

- I don't need any fu… - he rasped.

Sansa stopped him before he could finish his vulgar sentence.

- I know that you have never worked for gold.

Sandor smirked at her with a sarcastic smile.

- Really? Do you think I have ever done anything for pure love for humans?

- I don't know but I think you have…

- Do you think I saved you from the mob in King's Landing for Joffrey's request?

Sansa felt her skin frozen when she remembered those horrible scenes that used to cause her so many nightmares through weeks. Sometimes she even woke up in the middle of the night, reliving those frightening moments of her life again.

- For Joffrey's request? – she shook her head a little – I am sure it was not his idea. Lord Tyrion, he was the one who seemed to care about me. But would you be so kind to let this topic go, please? I do not want to remember that afternoon.

Sandor did not apologise for bringing the memories up, but he replied slowly on his rasping voice.

- I am sure about that.

He was watching Sansa who didn't return his curious glance.

She was looking into the fire, lost among the flames and her reminiscences about that day.

Lord Tyrion, she thought, he really cared about me, and I know that you cared about me, too, Ser Sandor. You will never admit it and I don't even need your admitting it. The way you looked at me those days when I was living in King's Landing was rather frightening for me but now I know the meaning of your eyes. You cared about me that was why you always tried to defend me from Joffrey's madness. Not always, she corrected herself, but rather many times. More times than anyone else.

Suddenly Sansa looked back at Sandor.

- Would you fancy having a look at the southern wall tomorrow? It is being repaired. I guess your help would be really appreciated considering that the number of our strongest men has decreased since the latest wars.

Sandor's eyes flashed for a moment.

- Sure, Lady Stark, as you please.

Sansa was grateful that he did not insist on keeping talking about the past events they had shared. She waited a long minute wondering whether he had anything else to say but as he remained silent, she stood up, made a little curtsey, said goodbye and left.

He did not join her at the dining hall but before she started her own dinner, she made sure that he would receive the same delicious meals or anything else he would wish for.