Sansa

The next morning, Sansa woke up much later than she was used to. On most days she woke up when Septa Mordane or Mother came to call her. Sometimes it was Arya who woke her up, wandering about their room before the crack of dawn while she tried to get dressed in the dark to run out and play with Nymeria before their lessons. Sometimes Sansa woke up with the tip of Lady's nose pressed to her cheek.

The thought threatened to make her cry, and Sansa had been trying so very hard not to cry ever since Lady's death. So she forced herself to think about nothing at all while she got up and took off her dress. She had been so tired that she'd slept fully clothed, and now her dress was crumpled and ruined from her walk in the forest. Even so, she tried to smooth it as best as she could and then draped it carefully over a chair. Maybe she'd find some way to clean it later.

She padded to the large oak wardrobe in the corner, shivering a little as her naked feet touched the flagstones, and looked for something she could wear. Luckily for her, everyone had abandoned the castle in a hurry and left their things behind. Sansa found a dress belonging to a young noblewoman roughly her size, and a fur-lined cloak that was a little too long but kept her nicely warm. There was also soap and a brush and a mirror so when Sansa left the room she looked, if not very pretty, at least clean and decent.

Now that she was dressed, though, she had no idea of where to go. Returning home was not an option because Joffrey might still be lying in wait for her in the forest. Sansa shivered at the memory of Joffrey's face as he tried to stab her. She had always thought he was handsome, but his face contorted with rage had looked dreadful and scary. She chased away the memory and thought of Sandor instead. He had looked scary too, with his scars and his quick temper, but he hadn't threatened to kill Sansa and hadn't chased her away from the castle either.

Sansa's feet had brought her to the great hall. The long trestle tables were still piled high with last night's food, which was starting to smell real bad. It was a good thing that it was winter, or the whole place would have been swarming with flies. The plates should have been cleaned away, and maybe some of the food was still good to eat or could be given to the animals, but Sansa didn't relish the idea of carrying dirty dishes around.

Sansa broke her fast with a couple of apple tarts that still looked edible, and ate them walking. She still hadn't decided whether she would stay at the castle or go home, but she thought she'd better ask Sandor first, in case he told her to leave again. Besides, she wanted to make sure that the bandage she'd made him was keeping.

Sandor Clegane wasn't anywhere to be found. Sansa looked everywhere in the castle, knocked at every door, even called Sandor in a timid voice. She even ventured in the servants' quarters, where she'd never stepped before in her life. It was very dull and gray and Sansa felt very out of place, but Sandor wasn't there either.

Just as she was about to give up on her quest and, she finally spied him from a window. He was in the small garden that in this castle passed as a godswood. Even from a distance, it was impossible not to recognize the heart tree: it was the only one to still have leaves on, even in the middle of winter. The red leaves made a stark contrast with the white of the bark and the snow.

The prince's former sworn shield was shuffling around in the snow, favoring his left leg. Sansa frowned at the sight. She was about to run to him and tell him off for straining himself when she realized what was happening. Sandor Clegane had been digging a grave. What Sansa had at first taken for mounds of snow was in truth a hole in the ground, not too large but deep enough that other animals wouldn't try to dig up the remains buried there.

Sansa watched as Sandor carried Lady's body from the yard, pausing often to catch his breath, and laid the wolf in her grave with a delicacy that Sansa wouldn't have suspected in such a large man. When he started filling the grave, Sansa left the window and went out to meet him.

The morning was cold and crisp, with an icy wind that bit into her cheeks and promised more snow. Sansa had to wrap her cloak tighter around herself. She was unsure whether to call out to him, but he heard her approaching and turned around.

"Little bird," he said. He sounded surprised, almost embarrassed. "I didn't know what to do about the wolf," he confessed. "It didn't seem right to leave her and I know your house keeps to the old gods, so..."

His voice trailed off and he looked away. Maybe Sandor was thinking that he should have asked for permission. It was a strange situation for the two of them. They weren't prisoner and captive, but they weren't lady and knight either.

"Thank you," Sansa said. After a moment, Sandor nodded and turned to resume shoveling dirt and snow into Lady's grave. Sansa cleaned the snow away from a bench and sat down to watch. He worked in silence, with slow and methodical movements. If his leg pained him, he never said.

"My family had a lot of dogs because of their sigil," Sandor told her eventually. "I used to play with them when I was a boy."

Sansa would have gladly cried on his shoulder then, but she'd been taught that ladies didn't cry in public. "Really?" she said instead. "It seems strange to think of you as a child."

Sandor glanced at her over his shoulder. "Everyone was a child once," he replied. "I used to play come-into-my-castle and listen to my wet nurse's stories."

"Those stories turned out much different in reality," Sansa said. The stone under her was freezing cold, so she hugged her legs to keep warm. "In the tales, enchanted castles are filled with portents like singing furniture, or else everyone is asleep waiting for the princess to be awaken by her true love." Sansa had rather liked those tales.

Sandor grunted. "Instead, there's just me in this castle," he said. "Are you disappointed?"

"I'm not," Sansa said. It was a lie, but Sandor had been kind to her and it wasn't his fault that the stories weren't true.

They walked back from the godswood together. Sandor's limp had worsened, because of the cold or the fatigue or both, so Sansa took small steps that allowed the Hound to keep up with her. As they were crossing the yard, Sansa heard a loud cry.

She halted, startled, and Sandor almost bumped into her. "It's Joffrey," Sansa said, wringing her hands. "He came back for us."

"It doesn't sound like him at all," Sandor said, motioning for her to be quiet. More voices had joined the first one in asking to enter the castle. Sansa listened as she was bid and realized that the Hound was right. Joffrey would have been screaming for their heads, but whoever was outside the walls was pleading to be let inside.

Even so, Sansa feared another trap. "What should we do?"

"Stay here," Sandor told her. "I'll find out who those people are."

Sansa paced the yard as Sandor climbed the battlements and addressed the crowd from outside. She assumed that it was a crowd because she heard different people answering Sandor's questions, though she could only hear snatches of their conversation. She was too afraid to join Sandor and ask him what was happening.

Finally, Sandor exclaimed "I'm not a m'lord!" loud enough to startle the people outside into silence, and went back to Sansa. He took the steps one at a time, leaning heavily on the wall, and Sansa met him halfway up the stone stairs to lend him her shoulder.

"What's happening?" she asked. "Who are those people?"

"Smallfolk," Sandor replied. "Servants and stableboys and pages. They left the castle for fear of the enchantress and now they want to come back."

"Then you should open the gates and let them,"Sansa said immediately.

"They're Joffrey's men," Sandor spat.

"You were Joffrey's man until not long ago," Sansa reminded him. "Besides, this castle is too large for the two of us." Only after she'd spoken the words did she realize that it meant that she wanted to stay. She gave Sandor a hopeful look.

Sandor frowned. "I'm no lord," he said. "I don't know how to run a castle or what to tell them to do..."

Sansa beamed. "Don't worry, this is what I've been brought up for," she said. It was almost as good as being a princess, and besides the hall really needed cleaning. "Let them in!"

So Sandor and Sansa took over Joffrey's castle.