Chapter 6.
Sandor Clegane kept his promise.
It is one of the things that one must admire in him, Sansa thought while she was riding beside him, that he always stays true to his words and promises. He has always been terribly honest and he has never thought about choosing his words carefully to avoid the punishment.
Next morning Sandor woke up early, opened the window to drop a curse on the cold Northern weather, had a quick wash, got dressed (although he did not comb his hair as he never bothered about his hairstyle) and he was waiting in front of the dining hall patiently, without moving his body an inch, when Sansa arrived to have breakfast.
She was just a little surprised to see him so early in the morning because she thought he would sleep longer, and for a moment she wondered how long he may have been standing beside the door.
- Good morning, Ser Sandor.
He ignored her calling ser, even though in his dark eyes a small flash of light showed that he heard it clearly and he did not like it.
- Good morning, Lady Stark.
- I am really glad to see you in the dining hall to join my breakfast. – her voice and her words expressed honest joy, despite Andrew's face, who cannot hide his displeasure to see his lady in such a - in his opinion - disgraceful company. - I hope that you will find the modest meals of Winterfell delicious enough.
Sandor raised his right eyebrow, stepping closer to her, while noticing but completely ignoring Andrew's discontentment.
- They do not seem so modest when you spend months riding on the roads of Westeros and sleeping rough under the night sky.
Sansa gave him one of her loveliest, soothing smiles and showed him the way to the table.
- You are completely right. If I remember well, you do not feel like drinking water, that is why I asked Thomas to bring some good old wine from the cellar.
Sandor smirked at her.
- That is really thoughtful of you, Lady Stark. Such a generous and caring woman is hard to find these days. Your mother would be really proud of you.
Sansa was not sure if he meant these words ironic or not, so she chose to have her breakfast instead of giving any reactions.
Sandor did not want to talk either and he seemed to have rather a huge appetite, drinking a whole jug of wine accompanied by a big roasted chicken, two handful of baked potatoes and vegetables, and two bowls of porridge. Sansa wondered what he would eat for lunch, after long hours of physical work, if his breakfast must have been so abundant. She could hide her surprise, however, not everyone was so smart – Andrew was staring at Sandor until he looked deeply into his eyes and rasped with a grin:
- Stop staring at me, boy, or I will carve your eyes out and push them into a place where the moonshine cannot enter.
Andrew's face turned blood red, his body seemed to be frozen immediately and he didn't even dare to breathe, while Sansa felt partly annoyed and partly amused. Sandor and his vulgar remarks, how could I have forgotten about them, she thought, although she was not angry with him at all. She felt more annoyance towards Andrew who seemed to have forgotten about good manners and not staring at people.
- Andrew, go and find Mrs Watson. – she ordered in a soft voice, accompanied by a soft smile - It will be a lovely sunny day and you should put out the blankets for fresh air.
Andrew was happy to have a reason to disappear from the dining hall as quickly as possible.
- Yes, Lady Stark.
- He should have stayed. – Sandor said with a little smirk before tasting the second bowl of porridge.
- I don't want him to annoy you more. – Sansa replied, smiling softly while taking the last spoonful of porridge into her mouth.
Sandor's glimpse on her looked dark, but not threatening.
- A real lady of her empire, that is what you are, little bird.
Sansa didn't give an answer this time and the conversation stopped again.
She still felt a little uncomfortable when Sandor called her "little bird" because it reminded her of his tender emotions towards her when they both lived in King's Landing. She had been just a foolish little girl at those times, but since then sometimes she recalled her memories of him and now she could realise much better that he had had a special love for her. She wondered if he still felt that way for her although now he could have fewer possibilities to show his care and tenderness. She was not that weak, foolishly romantic little girl anymore, she did not need his protection from Joffrey, Queen Cersei or anyone who used to hurt her. Actually she did not need anyone's protection. She was the Lady of Winterfell, with her own power and with her own people, brave warriors and brave pheasants. She forced to push her thoughts of him and his emotions away.
Sandor didn't insist on continuing the topic or bringing up memories, he was too busy eating and drinking as much as possible.
After breakfast, they visited the southern wall of Winterfell that seemed to be a pile of miserable ruins and burnt stone blocks. Two dozen muscular people were working around it, carrying and carving stones, trying to rebuild that part of the wall. None of them looked as strong as Sandor himself who was watching them scornfully.
- How long have they been doing this job?
- Four months.
- What a bunch of ham-fisted losers!
Sansa was careful not to sound ironic, though she was sure that her sharp glance on him didn't miss the target.
- Then would you be so kind, ser, to show them how it should be done properly?
Sandor looked at her deeply then murmured something.
- I need wine. Lots of wine.
- Wine? – her voice sounded surprised.
- A worker must drink. Drink and eat. So wine and chicken.
You have just filled your huge belly, she almost spoke, but she knew how unpolite these words would have sounded.
- As you please, ser.
Sandor seemed to ignore her calling him ser in spite of all his previous objections. Let her enjoy it, he thought, I have more important tasks to do.
From that day he commanded the people as if he were the leader and for her astonishment they all obeyed him immediately. Considering his terrible fame and his well-formed muscles, it is not such a big surprise, she thought, especially that he always works together with them, not only giving out orders or just relaxing in the background. She admired his amazing sense of winning her people, even though he never forgot to use a rather vulgar language when someone failed to do their job as he wanted them to do.
As days passed by, she more and more often rode to the wall to see Sandor. First she just wanted to control him, to see how hard he was actually working, to check how well and how quickly the wall was being repaired and how he was treating other people. She stayed for a few minutes, then she left. Most of the times they did not even exchange a word, even though Sandor always noticed her and greeted her with a short bow of his head before continuing to work.
Later she realised that she wanted to see him – not exactly how and what he was doing – him only. She was always wondering about his motives of being in Winterfell.
Sandor seemed to be enjoying his time there, feeling and looking good, never complaining about the cold weather or the frozen dish the other people had to warm up again at the fire. He never warmed up his food and he never walked close to the fire. No one talked about it, even though they gave a suspicious look at him. It was still unknown for most people why he was so scared to be close to the fire – everyone thought the reason was an old encounter with the flames on the battlefield that burnt the whole right side of his face.
He worked hard as if he were enjoying his work. He did not make friends with her people, he did not fight with anyone, he showed a basic courtesy and nothing more, and if he lost his patience because of someone or something, he tried to calm down as fast as possible although he did not apologise for rudeness.
Sansa heard what her people were talking about him. The Hound, they said, has changed. They did not trust him as much as she did, but they were less afraid of him as they used to be.
One day one of the older men, Christian Bruce, who had lost his two sons during a pillaging and killing, committed by some henchmen of the Lannisters, offered Sandor an apple and he even thanked for it, before biting into its flesh. Two days later Sandor told Sansa that he wanted to ask for a day off. Sansa allowed him to do that without asking for the reason, and by lunch time she was told that he had gone to help Christian Bruce repair the roof of his old family home.
The old man was a true warrior at the battlefield but he was afraid of heights terribly. He was rather ashamed of that therefore he never told anyone that his roof had collapsed a few days earlier and he would be unable to repair it alone. He had no neighbours or family members left, no one could have had the slightest idea about the accident, he was too proud to ask for help and he tried not to show how much he was freezing during the nights. He knew he was behaving foolishly but his pride proved to be stronger than his physical needs.
However, Sandor noticed the signs of the chilblain on the man's hands and he suspected immediately what had happened. He never mentioned his reason of staying away to Sansa, he simply told her about leaving for a day. He just turned up in front of Bruce's house next morning, waited for him to wake up and go out of the house, greeted him with a "You stupid old fart, what have you imagined? Do you want to die like a stupid animal?" and asked if Bruce had a ladder, a hammer and some nails. The following morning he continued his work at the wall as if nothing had happened and he didn't even look at Bruce again.
Sansa was wondering why Sandor had come to Winterfell and how come he had become so generous to help a man who was his enemy. If now there were a war between The North and the Lannisters, they would be facing each other, ready to kill each other, she thought, so what is going on with him?