Chapter 7.
Days and weeks passed. Sandor Clegane remained in Winterfell, working hard, building and repairing walls inside and outside the castle, also taking his part in the night watch regularly, still Sansa could not get closer to his motives.
She was not the only one who was watching him closely – Ser Thomas and his men did the same, without being asked to. At least one of them was always near him, watching and listening, but none of them was able to find anything against Sandor. He looked like the same rough and unkempt warrior as he had looked like in King's Landing, he spoke rudely and often used vulgar expressions when he felt like talking that way just as he used to when he was Joffrey's bodyguard. His social and table manners reminded Sansa of the man she used to know in King Joffrey's court who had acted as he had felt like and who had never cared about other people's opinion. Sandor Clegane didn't seem to change – except that he hadn't killed anyone since he arrived at Winterfell.
- Have you found anything strange? – Sansa asked Ser Thomas one day while they were having their usual conversation in the library. There was the place where they always discussed the matters and problems of the North Empire, besides some spicy wine and some fresh-baked bread.
He shook his head.
- No really. Except that he doesn't meet women.
Sansa didn't understand what he meant and looked at him curiously. Why should he meet any women, she thought, when he keeps on working the whole day and there haven't been any festivals for a long time? She remembered how much she used to love those wonderful festival during the summer time where everyone was having fun, dancing, making and listening to music, eating and drinking from dawn to the next daybreak. It seems to me so long ago, she thought, when my father ruled the North and we had summer and we had reasons to celebrate. Maybe we should celebrate again, she kept on wondering, as we finally have peace and a great, rightful king and people deserve to have a good time.
- What do you mean by that?
Ser Thomas seemed to be rather embarrassed and a little red blotch appeared on both of his cheeks. It is not a topic I should discuss with a lady, especially not with the Lady of Winterfell, he thought a little bitterly.
- You know, my lady, sometimes a man possesses some special… needs that only a woman could satisfy…
Now everything was clear for Sansa.
- Ah, you mean that. Maybe he does it in a very private way.
She didn't become embarrassed by the topic of sex. Should she after what she had had to endure from men in the past and what she had seen and experienced during the horrible rule of Queen Cercei and King Joffrey? What was actually embarrassing for her is to realise what a soothing feeling it caused inside her to hear that Sandor doesn't go to prostitutes and doesn't fancy any women. The reason behind that feeling was something that Sansa now pushed aside forcefully.
- I don't think so he could do that. – Ser Thomas said firmly. - He is always being watched, even when he goes to sleep, someone of us checks on him. No one enters his room being noticed and he cannot leave his room being noticed either.
- Well, until he behaves himself well and if he doesn't do anything against Winterfell or against my little brother, I think it is not our business what he does or doesn't do in secret. Anyway, thank you for letting me know about it.
Sansa let the topic and Ser Thomas leave the room.
She was starting to believe that the Hound had come to Winterfell only to settle down and find some peace, however, she found it a little strange that he didn't have any relationships with women. At King's Landing there had been stories about him visiting the brothel and paying a double price to get a woman for a quarter of an hour who would be able to tolerate his burnt cheek and his rude manners without any complaints. People had been laughing while telling these stories behind his back but in the end they had had to admit that "even the Hound got his girl" and that he hadn't had to force anyone to have sex with him. Maybe he became tired of being stared at and of paying for love, she thought.
An hour later Sansa rode to the construction site to make her routine check-up. Sandor was working hard, she could see it clearly, he didn't seem to be tense or furious and he even gave her a rather strange smile when he noticed her, but he turned away immediately and returned to his work of breaking stones. His hair was unkempt, he had taken his thick coat off and was working in a simple shirt that was stained by his sweat. He seems to get already used to the cold, she thought with a little smile.
Suddenly Christian Bruce appeared next to her horse.
- Don't worry, Lady Stark. Clegane works harder than any of us. If I didn't know him, I would believe that Winterfell is important for him and he wants to have it safe and sound as soon as possible. – he said watching Sandor.
Sansa didn't reply.
Maybe he is planning his retirement and he thinks that this is the safest place for him, she wondered, he had saved Arya and me after all. He knows that we own him and even though he doesn't say it openly, he is expecting something to hold on in his older years. She knew that he was eighteen years older than her and men at his age – and especially after such an amount of fights and wars he had done and survived – were mainly dead or retired from warfare. No matter how tough he is or he pretends to be, she smiled, he feels deep inside that his time may have come for him to retire.
Two days later, after dinner, Sansa walked to the Godswood. It was not that icy cold that could almost break bones but she chose her thickest fur coat and boots for the visit. She wanted to be alone and to pray a little without being disturbed. She really liked being among her people, watching Winterfell filled with noisy life, happy laughs and cheerful chattering again, as it used to be in her father's time, but sometimes she loved being alone, only with her own thoughts and problems. She didn't pray every day but when she prayed in Godswood, she felt that it was real and the gods did hear her whispers, wishes and gratitude.
She had a favourite place, right under the heart-tree, where her father used to pray and think. The roots of the tree broke the ground on the side where it was the closest to the lovely pond and one of the thick roots was comfortable enough to sit on, even for hours. There was always complete silence around, even the birds seemed to sing on a softer voice as if they had felt that was a sacred place.
After saying her evening prayers, she stayed motionless. She was leaning against the thick strong trunk of the tree and she could feel the power of it on her skin. She was listening to the wind blowing around her face and finally she felt some inner peace. She knew herself and she knew that in spite of showing herself always calm to the world, she was worried and anxious inside as if she had been expecting something bad to come. She had seen too many horrible things within such a short time and somehow she couldn't believe that the bad times were maybe over.
She was watching the pond with its frozen mirror-like surface and she wondered when she would see swans on it again. There were a couple of snow white swans visiting the pond every summer, spending months there, but after her father had been murdered, they had left and never returned.
Suddenly Sansa felt as if she hadn't been alone. She didn't see or hear anything even though she had to admit that sometimes she could be completely lost in her thoughts and those times she seemed to be almost deaf and blind. She looked up and saw Sandor Clegane standing beside her, watching her intently.
- Did I frighten you, little bird?
Sansa was actually frightened – not because of his presence, but because of his ability of remaining invisible.
- How could you come here so silently? I didn't even hear you. – her voice didn't sound so confident now as it did most of the times.
Sandor laughed roughly.
- What kind of damned soldier would I be if I couldn't come close to anyone without being heard?
Hearing his reply, she thought: so this is how he can simply leave his room and meet women if he feels like, without being noticed. To ignore the disturbing possibility, she made another question quickly.
- You are right, but may I know what you are looking for here, Ser Sandor?
He looked around the trees and his eyes stopped on the pond. His glance looked so superficial but Sansa was sure that his mind was kind of taking pictures of the scene.
- I was just walking here. Anyway I wanted to have a look at this place.
- You are welcome here as well.
Now he looked at her with a curious glimpse.
- Why do you like being here?
Sansa smiled softly while replying.
- My father loved spending time here. I think it was his favourite place actually because he could be himself here. No problems, no killing, no complaints. Sometimes I can feel him here. And my gods are here.
- Gods. – Sandor spat the word with contempt as if it were a curse.
Sansa looked at him frowning. She didn't like his tone but she didn't want to reprimand him. He has the right to have his own opinion, she thought, whether I like it or not.
- Where are your gods, Ser?
Sandor looked back at her, his eyes were already boiling with anger and he looked really dangerous now.
- I have no fucking gods.
- Don't say this, please.
Sandor leaned closer to Sansa and she could even feel his hatred towards the gods on her skin. His sudden movement frightened her a little but the hatred in his eyes and on his face scared her so much more.
- Why not? Where were my gods when I was burnt? – he rasped furiously.
Sansa saw such a deep pain and torture in his eyes now that she had never seen before but what she could understand perfectly. She wanted to jump up and wrap her arms around him, trying to soothe him, holding him as close as possible and even caressing his unkempt long hair and his whole face – it was something else that meant a totally new sensation for her. She had never felt such a tenderness for Sandor and it astonished her completely. But she didn't dare to allow herself such an intimacy with him and she was sure that he would have pushed her away from him and shouted some vulgarity at her as well.
A part of her suspicion proved to be true when Sandor suddenly turned around and left her there, walking so fast, with huge angry steps, that he disappeared among the woods within a few moments.
He must be terribly ashamed of himself for letting me see and hear his pain, she thought and she shivered a little, however this time he would not threaten to kill me if I told it to anyone because he must be sure that I would never do such a thing. Another thought made her shiver as well: she was so close to touch him and it could have given him another opportunity to laugh at and mock her. That was why she decided not to look for him that evening. She wondered if he would appear in the Dining Hall at dinner and she was about to ask Andrew to bring some hot soup, wine and roasted turkey to Ser Sandor when he entered the hall.
His dark face and murderous eyes did not promise anything good but Sansa acted as if she had seen nothing of that.
- That is so kind of you, Ser Sandor, to join me at my dinner.
Sandor said nothing, was just about to sit down at the end of the table, when Sansa stood up and showed him the seat next to her.
- Please, come and take this seat, this is the guest's place.