The Bitter Taste of Honor

"You can ask anything," Sansa chirped. The seat she was in faced Sandor with Shae and Tyrion shadowing behind her. Today, they had gathered together to help Sandor learn of how they came up their plan to save him from death. Varys was busy pouring wine for them all but it was his idea to have the meeting in his room. It was the securest one in the whole Keep after all.

Sandor took a deep breath. He had been asking Shae all week what had happened but she couldn't really explain it well enough for him. With Tyrion and Sansa's wedding fast approaching, the two had been so busy neither had a moment to themselves much less for their own lovers. Sandor blamed it on the Tyrell girl. "I don't know where to begin," he blurted out. "Wait. Yes I do. How did you know what to do?"

"I didn't," Sansa confessed. "It was Varys."

"Actually it was Bronn who discovered what kind of poison it was the Blackkettles used," Varys remarked. "I merely did some scouting and my spiders informed me about a cure that was written back in the days of the old kings, where the Children of the Forest were able to perform their work on one of the Stark kings."

"Children of the Forest?"

"They were once people who lived in Westeros before the First Men. Their wise men were said to have magical powers."

"Is that true?" Sandor asked Sansa.

Sansa felt everyone look at her. "I don't know. Old Nan used to tell tales of the men who lived in the forests long ago but they never grew up so they were called children. Mostly what I remember is that they lived long but they're all gone now." She cursed her younger self for not paying attention more to those stories. "Father believed in them and so did Maester Luwin; but if they exist, no one has seen them for a long time."

"Do you believe they exist?" Tyrion asked.

"I don't know what to believe anymore ever since that White Walker," she answered truthfully. "With everything going on, why shouldn't the Children of the Forest be real too?"

"White walkers?" Sandor asked.

Sansa nodded. "That's what the crow said. He had the hand of one."

"He never brought that forward," Tyrion rebutted.

"Only because you didn't see him in time. But I saw it in his face. He had the same look as the prisoner Father executed for running away from the Wall. Something is happening in the north. It's hard to explain but I just know it. When we met that woman, I could feel it running through me."

"What woman? The one you were talking about earlier?"

Sansa nodded seriously. "Sandor, I know how this sounds and if I wasn't there, I wouldn't believe it either but I think that woman saved you."

"How?"

"I don't know. She knew who I was though."

"Everyone knows who you are."

"Not her. She was blind; she couldn't have. She knew Tyrion too."

"It's true," the little lord echoed.

"What was her payment for such an act?"

"A song." Sandor's eyebrows rose to his forehead. "I thought it was strange too."

"She was a strange woman," Tyrion quipped. "Speaking of, Varys where did you say you met her again?"

"I didn't." He gave a wicked smile. "But since we're spilling our secrets, I suppose there is no harm done to say it." He settled in a seat and began. "I had known about her for years due to my little spiders but she had never come so far south before. Her home is the forest near where the Brotherhood Without Banners are hiding. It's been said that she can see the future and speak to the old gods – a greenseer they call her, the last child of the forest. Naturally I was curious."

"Did you go to her then?" Shae asked. "Ask her to help?"

"No," he cooed. "She found me. She offered a cure for what was ailing Clegane and I took the chance."

"You took a chance?" Sandor sneered. "This my life you're talking about and you didn't know if it would work?"

"Well it did," Varys quipped. "And here you are. I trusted my instincts, Hound. Surely you of all people can understand that."

"At first we didn't think it had worked," Tyrion cut in. "You were alive but far too much of yourself from before you met Sansa. Honestly, I don't know how I put up with you."

Sandor glared but Sansa smirked in amusement. "You were awful," she said gently. "It wasn't your fault though; we hadn't finished the process."

"What do you mean?"

"Waking you up was the first part; restoring you back to yourself was the second. The old woman waited until she got her song to finish the deed."

"Sansa's song was the key to making me better?" Sandor asked incredulously.

"It's not my song," Sansa chimed.

"What was it?"

"The song of Prince Duncan and Jenny of Oldstone. Old Nan had taught it to all of us when we were little. It was my favorite song in Winterfell." A slight shadow crosses her face as images come to her mind. She shook her head carefully to get rid of them. "So that's what I gave her."

"How did you know that's what she wanted?" Tyrion asked softly.

Sansa's slim brows knitted together and those Tully eyes became glassy. "I don't know. I just did." Though that wasn't entirely true, she decided not to say what it was that caused her to sing it. Her eyes glanced up and met Sandor's gray ones. A weak smile crossed her lips. "Anyway, it's done now. There's no point in wondering why. She held up her end and Sandor is alive. That is all that matters."

"Did she say something to you?" Sandor probed.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you haven't been the same lately. You're always in a daze."

"She said something that bothered me," Sansa replied after a while.

"What?"

"She said she saw me slaying a giant in a castle made of snow."

"What the bloody hells is that supposed to mean?"

Sansa shook her head as she looked to Tyrion. "Do you know what she meant when she said you were a little giant?"

"Hopefully not the same one you slay," Tyrion deadpanned. "Do you plan on slaying me, Sansa?"

"I hope not."

Tyrion gave her a sly smile and shrugged. "Maybe she's just mad."

"There's a difference between being mad and misunderstood," Sansa pointed out. "I just wish I knew what she meant."

"I'm curious about her saying you were the other wolf," Shae threw in. "What does that mean?"

"Direwolves are my family's sigil. Could she have met another one?"

"Not unless she's been at Winterfell or on the battlefield," Tyrion said. "I highly doubt Robb Stark would allow old women around. The men's morale would plummet."

"What do you think Varys?" Sandor prompted.

The bald man hadn't said word but was watching intently. His hands were tucked into his robes as his eyes gazed over his company. "I think the only way to know is to ask."

"You want me to go back to her?" Sansa asked in disbelief.

"It's the only way you can know for certain."

"No," Sandor said flatly.

Sansa turned to him with a disappointed expression. "I can answer for myself."

"Sansa, no."

"Why not?"

"You could be taken advantage of."

"Then come with me. No one will dare harm me then."

"I didn't mean that. What if she asks for money or is doing this as some sort of jest against you or your family?"

"I don't believe that."

"Of course you don't. You're naïve enough to believe anything that looks good on the surface."

Sansa felt the sting of his words and the wolf began to rise. "Do you still think of me as such? Have I not proven that I am no longer one of your summer birds chirping away with empty words?"

"You're doing it now, going along with this wedding."

"Well we all have to endure unpleasant things don't we, Sandor? Shall I remind you how many I've been through so far? I can start with the most recent if you like."

Sandor's face burned hot as Sansa's eyes hardened. "I just don't want you to get your hopes up only to get hurt."

"Yet another thing I am well acquainted with."

Tyrion and Shae shifted uncomfortably in their seats at the sudden chill in the room. "If you want to go, Sansa, I'll go with you," Tyrion remarked as he slurped the rest of his wine.

"Are you sure?"

"It would be the perfect cover for us. Shae, you could come as well since you are her handmaid. Varys, if you could find a way to persuade the king to let Clegane off on the night I would much appreciate it."

"I'm not going," Sandor said.

"Why?" Sansa asked.

"This is ridiculous. It's a mad woman!"

"Who saved your life," Sansa countered.

"By magic?" he scoffed.

"What frightens you most – the idea that things are happening that you don't understand, or that if you come, she'll say something you don't want to hear?"

"I'm not afraid," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then prove it," Tyrion goaded. "Come with us."

xxxxxxxxxxx

"What the seven hells am I doing?" Sandor gruffed.

"You're being a good man," Sansa smiled.

She scuttled along behind him as he led the way to the godswood with Tyrion beside her and Shae trailing. Varys had decided to come at his own time and in his own way. No one questioned it because…well, it was Varys. He hadn't been able to persuade the king to let Sandor off, but Margaery had. Sansa had gone to her the day after Varys gave her the news. Being around the Tyrells began to rub off on her, Sansa noted. She knew the best way to avoid suspicion was to act as though Shae had mentioned in passing that Sandor wasn't as vigorous as he normally was, causing the maid to worry about him. She picked the right moment and said in it the lazy tone she used when she was disinterested in something. Margaery, busy with her own wedding plans, offered to speak to the king about the Hound. After all, the Tyrells didn't want the king to be protected half-heartedly. She also pointed out that Tyrion would loathe seeing the Hound so much. The last part sealed the deal.

By nightfall, Shae and Sandor were waiting for their better halves. It was far more difficult for Tyrion and Sansa to get away without attention since it seemed to follow them everywhere. Once they met up, they put on their masks and headed out for a walk. It wasn't until they passed the last guard at the Keep that they began to even speak to each other. Still, they were very careful to keep up appearances until the brush of the godswood hid them.

Sansa sat at the tree stump next to Shae. "Thank you for coming," she said in a low tone.

"Of course," the black haired maid smiled. "I'm as curious as you are."

Sansa gave a small smile back. "Aren't you scared?"

"What's there to be scared about?"

"Lots of things. Our lives are in a constant state of worry about if someone finds out the truth."

"That's why we're being careful. What happened last time can't happen again. I don't think any of us could come back from it."

Sansa's eyes went to the men standing around one of the trees near the forests. They were speaking about something serious but it didn't look as though they were arguing. For a moment she could see her and Sandor holding hands down the street and having dinner with Tyrion and Shae. Like any normal couple. She yearned for anonymity more than ever. She would gladly run away and change her name and hide her face if meant living a simple with Sandor. Emotionally, she still had a long way to go with forgiving him but almost losing him had reminded her that life was far too short to hold a grudge. He was just as much of a victim of Joffrey's depravity as she was. Still, she found that that mentality was much easier said than done. Sometimes when she caught a glimpse of Sandor and Shae together a rage would boil beneath her and she wanted to scream. It was hard to get rid of the images in her mind and it would often take her a few minutes to re-focus on simple things. She wondered how Tyrion was handling it. Neither of them had talked about it but she had a feeling that subject would be coming up soon.

"Have you met any of the queen's new maids?" Sansa prompted.

"I don't care to. They ask me questions but I tell them to fuck off."

"What kind of questions?"

"About you, mostly. Your family, Tyrion, me and the Hound."

"Spies, then." Sansa sighed heavily. Would Cersei ever leave her alone?

"Child!" a shrill voice screeched. "Where's my child? Ah," she sighed. "There you are."

Sansa and Shae flew from their seats to face the old crone coming from the woods. Sandor went to draw his weapon but Tyrion stayed his hand. He wanted to go to Sansa and pull her to safety. But this was her choice and he had to respect that. Too many men had dictated her life so far and he didn't want to do that. So he stayed back by the trees next to Tyrion.

Sansa let the woman touch her face. She thought it would make her ill at ease but instead the wrinkled hands gave her an eerie calm. "Hello," Sansa said in awe.

"You're happy, child."

"It worked. Whatever you did worked."

The old woman looked insulted. "Of course it did." She turned her whitened eyes to the spot that anchored Sandor. "Don't be shy," she cooed. "Come. I see so few of my results."

Sandor hesitated for a moment before seeing that Sansa was giving him a look. Carefully, he stalked through the thick air until the woman was able to touch him. But instead of a smile, a deep frown came over her. "What?" he asked.

The old woman pulled him gently to where he was leveled with her. One of her hands caressed his burnt cheek. "She is safe now," she whispered. Sandor's eyes went to Sansa, who looked confused. "No," the woman said. "Not her. You know of whom I speak."

Sandor was baffled. "Who then?"

The woman's face curled into a heartbroken expression. "You've forgotten. People should never be forgotten."

He scoffed and began to walk away when he said, "This woman is mad."

"Do not walk away from me!" the woman bellowed. The group was stunned at the outburst. "Too long have my people been ignored," she said harshly. "Too long have we been forgotten. But not anymore."

"And just who are your people?" Sandor provoked. "Old women who aim to scare noble ladies?"

"You should show me some respect. I pulled you from death. I can put you back."

The air crackled from the tension and no one dared to breathe until Sansa said softly, "How did you do it?"

"You know how," the woman said simply. "Don't pretend to be ignorant to make him feel better. Mind if I sit? I see better when I'm sitting." Sansa helped her down and took the seat next to her. "Now, what is it you really want to know sweet child?"

"What did you mean when you told me I would slay a giant?"

"I don't know. That's what I saw. The gods do not give me the answers."

"Only the puzzles it seems," Sansa sighed. "What about Tyrion?"

"Oh, the little giant," the woman cooed. "Yes, him I see in the brightest light, perhaps that is because he is used to living in others shadows."

"What about me?" Sandor asked out of curiosity.

"I see no Hound, but a dog."

He turned and stared at Sansa. "I told you. Nothing but an old crone."

"I see only that which affects the child of the First Men," the woman screeched. "That is my curse for serving those who violated the old gods."

Tyrion blinked in confusion before saying, "You mean the Targaryens?"

"They rise again. The Stormborn brings fire back into the world."

"The dragons," Sansa remarked.

"Aye. The Others have woken the spirits again. The world trembles at their return once more." She turned her blind eyes to Sansa. "They march the wrong way. The wolves must go north."

"My brother?" she asked with a panicked voice. "Have you seen him too? Is he okay?"

Those dulled eyes grew pensive. "I dreamt a wolf howling in the rain, but no one heard his grief," the dwarf woman said. "I dreamt such a clangor I thought my head might burst, drums and horns and pipes and screams, but the saddest thing was the red smile and the tears of blood."

Suddenly, Sansa was angry. "Why are you here?" she asked in a sharp tone. "Have you come to give us more riddles?"

"I came to tell you of the bloody fish I see and the dead wolves at the feast."

Sansa's breath was coming in shorter with each thought reeling in her head. "What about these visions affect me? Why me?"

"The old gods tell me to. They say it was the price to pay."

"Price to pay for what?"

"I'm tired now, child. So very tired. This land wears my bones thin and winter is coming. I must rest."

"No," Sansa snapped. "Tell me what you mean." But the old woman melted in the blackness beyond the trees. Sansa bolted for the woods. "What do you mean!" she cried.

"Sansa!" Sandor hollered.

She could hear him running behind her and she was sure Shae was there too. She should go back; no true lady would be chasing a woods witch and getting their hair all mussed up. "Hello!" she called out, hoping the woman would hear her desperation.

Sandor heard her cry and ran as fast as he could until he saw her pale skin through the darkness. Shae came right up behind him but stayed behind while he went through the thick brush. "Hey," he said gently. "Here you are. Come on, let's go back."

Sansa turned to face him. "I don't want to go back."

"I don't think any of us do," he snorted.

"I'm serious, Sandor. I want to find her. I want answers. And please don't say that she's just a mad woman."

"I know, little bird, but I don't think she even knows the meaning of her visions." After a minute or two of standing in silence, Sandor felt her mood change.

"Sandor?"

"Yes, little bird?"

"I'm sorry you have to watch me marry Tyrion."

"I'm sorry you had to watch me fuck your only friend."

She gave a wry smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Does this make us even? Since none of us mean what we say or do anymore?"

The innocent tone broke Sandor's heart. "I don't want to be even. We are both pawns in this fucking place. We do as we're told so we can survive. That is our existence for now."

"How did we get like this?" she asked dismally. "I was going to be queen."

"Maybe one day you will be."

"Margaery is going to be queen," Sansa rebutted. "I think she'll be good at it, better than me at least. She knows how to play the game."

"Do you really want to be Margaery Tyrell?" he asked dubiously.

For a moment, Sansa was tempted to say yes. Margaery was everything Sansa wished she could be: smart, cunning, charming, and able to match wits with Cersei. But is that what she really wanted? No. Because being Margaery meant marrying Joffrey. Sandor was no prince, but he was no monster either. She would not want to be Margaery Tyrell for all the snow in Winterfell. "No. I don't."

"That's good news. I prefer you anyway." Her face fell into a curious expression. "What?"

"Who was the woman you forgot?"

Sandor shifted uncomfortably on his feet. His jaw clenched and he swallowed though his throat had become thick. "I don't want to talk about that."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not ready."

"You want to make up for what happened with Shae. Maybe this will help."

His gray eyes grew stormy. "No."

"Why not?"

"Some things should remain buried, Sansa."

"Why?"

"Because…Because it hurts."

"I'm hurting," she said softly.

"That was my doing," he countered. "She has nothing to do with us."

"Obviously she does if you won't tell me about her."

Sandor looked at those Tully eyes, wishing that part of him was brave enough to tell her. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm tired, Sansa. It's been a long day and even stranger night. I just want to go to my room and drink until I forget what happened."

"Don't you trust me?" she asked cautiously. "If she was a past lover then just tell me so I can put my mind at ease."

"I trust you. Do you trust me?" He saw her open her mouth but nothing came out. "It isn't that hard of a question."

"I trust you with my life."

"Fuck that," he growled. "I'd save you even if you were the queen of thorns because that's my job. What about that?" He touched the place were her heart was located. "That's the only thing I care about."

"I thought I did, truly. But I don't know anymore," she admitted gently. "Every time I think I do, I see you and Shae on that floor. But then you almost died and I knew I could never really live without you if that happened. There's no balance between the two."

He placed his rough hand on her cheek, relishing the soft skin underneath. "I know how I feel about you. There is no second-guessing for me. Once you find that balance, come and get me. I'll be waiting."

"You want to leave me?"

"No," he scoffed. "Gods, no. What I want is to take you away and never come back and then fuck you until neither of us can stand anymore for the rest of our lives. But I'm not doing this for me; I'm doing it for you. If you don't want to be a pawn anymore, start with this."

"I already have," Sansa replied, scared out of her wits. "I told you I wouldn't let them take you away from me and I meant it."

"Did you?"

"Of course."

"You've saved my life, little bird. In more ways than you know. Now it's time for you to take care of yourself. Tend to that wound first," he said, pointing again to her heart. "Once that's done, you'll be surprised at how fast you can recover from everything else."

"You're a good man," she said.

"Not good enough. But better than I was." He gave her a chaste kiss before walking her out. "Make sure she gets back soon," he said to Shae. "Tomorrow she has a busy day."

Shae noticed Sansa's eyes welling up. "Can you make it back to the room?"

"I think so."

Tyrion saw Sandor walking toward him. "What's wrong?"

"Just come with me," Sandor growled.

"What happened to Sansa?"

"She's with Shae. They're behind me. Now move."

Tyrion looked back as he walked and saw the girls coming out. Shae was wiping Sansa's eyes and trying to soothe the redhead. "What did you do, Clegane?"

"I let her go," Sandor said darkly.

"Why? You love her."

"That's why. I want her to know that she has a choice in this world; that I'm not her father, brother, or anyone that tells her how she should be. She needs time and that's what I'm giving her."

"So you broke her heart so that she could heal it? That makes sense in a depressing way."

"I've already broken it. I want to make sure it heals properly before she trusts me with it again."

Tyrion stopped abruptly, forcing Sandor to do the same. "That's honorable in a twisted, cruel way."

"Is that what this feeling is?"

"Yes."

"I fucking hate it."

"As do I, Clegane. As do I." They resumed their path again. "My room has plenty of wine."

"Why do you think I wanted you to come back with me?" he snorted.

A/N: Okay, so I know it's been a long while since an update (and this ending is rather sad but it will get better!) but the good news is that finals is this week and I can do a much quicker updates so yay! But don't expect one before Sunday this week. Don't worry though; SanSan won't be apart for too long. Sometimes, a couple just needs a break. And no, I haven't forgotten about Tyrion or Shae's end. Also, I've received a couple of PMs lately asking me about two things: 1) if I'm alive and 2) if I will write about the Red Wedding. The answer is yes to both.