"I'm watching over her."
Arya opened her eyes, the churning in her stomach having nothing to do with the gentle tossing of the boat upon the waves. She was so tired, yet every time she started to drift off to sleep, she saw the Hound. Not as he had been when she left him, broken and in pain, pleading with her to finish him off, but as he had been the last time he stood between her and danger, facing the big blond woman with the Lannister sword. The woman hadn't believed him when he said he was looking after Arya, and Arya herself had been surprised to hear him say such a thing. Hadn't he killed Mycah, the butcher's boy? Hadn't he kidnapped her, and stopped her from going into the Frey hall, and dragged her around the countryside for a bounty? Sandor Clegane wasn't her traveling companion. He was just another name to cross off her list.
Arya turned on her side, trying to get comfortable, trying not to think of how the Hound got her a pony after she complained about riding double on his big horse, or the look on his face when the King's Men suggested having a go at her. She tried to think of what he had said about wanting to rape Sansa, but that had been a lie. She knew it, just as she knew he had been telling the truth about rescuing her sister. Relentlessly she squashed the memory of her concern over the wound on his neck which he refused to let her burn, and the way she watched him walk slower and slower as the infection took hold. That blond woman was a good fighter, but she never would have beaten the Hound if he hadn't been sick. It didn't matter, though-he was dead now, and Arya was glad of it. Glad that she would never have to look at his scarred face again and remember what he told her about his brother deliberately burning him, or his father shielding his brother and telling everyone Sandor's bedclothes caught fire. That was why he wouldn't let her tend to his wound properly-he was terrified of fire. If it wasn't for that…Arya sat up and rubbed her eyes, then flopped back down in the straw. She wasn't going to think about the Hound any more. He had been useless and cruel and too stupid to live and she was too tired to stay awake anyway. She sighed and closed her eyes.
"I'm watching over her."