Author's Notes: Did you truly expect Robb and Catelyn to welcome the Hound with open arms into their midst? Well, me neither. First there are going to be a few questions that need to be answered. So many, as a matter of fact, that once again this extends to yet another chapter…


Sandor & Arya

"So you too were asked to come here?"

"Aye, to answer a barrage of questions. I guess I should be bloody thankful they didn't involve pinchers or red-hot irons. Although if it was only up to that kingly brother of yours, I might not have been so lucky."

"Robb would never do that! Not even to his worst enemy."

"I am his worst enemy – or at least one of them. Killed his father, if you don't happen to remember. And yours.

"You didn't kill him! It was Joffrey. I know that and they know that."

"Hmmpph."

"Were they angry?"

"I have to hand it to them; they did behave much better than that cunt Cersei or that little shit Joffrey would have, had Robb wandered into their clutches. I expected worse."

"I have told you that we Starks are not like Lannisters. Do you believe me now?"

"What I believe or not doesn't matter. It is what they believe that does."

"I am going to tell them exactly what happened. And they'll believe me. And Sansa, they must ask her as well."

"She was there – just wasn't allowed to talk. They'll take their turn with her as well for sure."

"And then she too will let them know what really happened and what kind of a man you are. And they will believe her – mother always did, over what I told."

"Aye, she will tell the truth as she sees it – now. Back with her family things may start to look different than on the road."

"What do you mean? That she would go back on her vows? She will never do that. She loves you, you big oaf."

"-"

"Yes she does. I know it. She told me so. And even a blind septon would see it – the way how she looks at you."


Sansa

Making love in a real bed was yet another revelation to Sansa. Even despite the concerns at the back of her mind about possible interruptions, the ability to relax and luxuriate in the space and warmth of a real room was something new and exciting, as was the possibility to examine her husband in the bright daylight filtering through the window.

She had admired Sandor while he had taken his rather hasty bath; the solidity of his body, the span of his broad chest and long legs, his prominent muscles and raw allure that was only heightened by the way he had stared back at her with open desire gleaming in his eyes. When he stood up and without even bothering to dry himself with the towel walked to her, dripping water, Sansa shivered. It was then that she realised that it was not only her husband she desired, but also an affirmation that this was real; that she was not anymore a timid daughter who could be ordered around, but a grown woman who had made her choices and was prepared to stand up for them.

There was also a part of her which selfishly wanted to experience once again the new world she had found in his arms, a hunger she had not even realised she possessed before he had awakened it. The man approaching her, signs of his intentions clearly visible in the proud stance of his manhood, was what she needed to satisfy that craving.

So she devoured him, her initial shyness disappearing further and further every time they lay together. Drunk from the sense of strength and pride of having stood up for her kin in his defence she pushed Sandor down and the powerful man acquiesced without complaint. Sansa climbed on top of him, and guided by his strong hands on her hips she took charge of their coupling, finding this new way thrilling and gratifying and providing yet a new level of satisfaction – which it did by all signs also to Sandor. Sansa admired the sight of him - his eyes closed, his jaw clenched and the cords in his neck straining under the tension that occupied him, and she became giddy of the feeling of power it accorded.

Afterwards they embraced each other and Sandor inhaled the scent of her hair, his breath tickling Sansa's temples. It was a short moment of serenity in the squall they found themselves in and she enjoyed it, knowing that their peace would be shattered soon enough. Until they understand. Until they see him as I do. Then it will be all over and good.

A loud knock on the door broke the moment sooner than expected.

"Sansa, it is your Great-uncle Brynden here. Can I come in?"

"Uhh…yes, of course… just a moment." Sansa jumped to her feet. They had locked the door so she knew he couldn't enter without her say-so, but gods, she was naked as on her nameday and so was Sandor! Frantically she rummaged through the pile of clothing to seek for something to wear, settling on a dark-blue dressing gown of old-fashioned cut but with long sleeves and modest collar.

"Sandor, you too!" she hissed through her teeth, throwing a large tunic and a pair of breeches on the bed. Her husband only grinned, but after Sansa's renewed urging got up and started to dress.

"I am coming right over, just a small moment!" Sansa shouted while tying the cord of the gown on her waist. A quick look over the room told her that there was no way she would be able to hide what had just transpired, so she sighed resignedly and decided that it was just part and parcel of being married, after all, and she had no real reason to hide it.

Blackfish turned to face her when she finally opened the door, took in her dishevelled appearance, threw a glance behind her shoulder to the room, to the messy bed, to Sandor still struggling to fit a too small tunic over his head. Whatever he thought of the scene he kept to himself, entering with no further greetings.

Once inside the room he addressed Sandor.

"I need to ask you to come with me, Hound. The King and his lady mother wish to speak with you."

"Sandor. His name is Sandor Clegane," Sansa spoke the words in a low voice but with full of meaning.

"Clegane." Blackfish corrected. "Shall you come with me?"

"Aye, I come with you as soon as I get this bloody tunic on. Are all the men in Riverrun dwarfs? Much too tight across the shoulders, this thing."

"I am sorry we were not prepared with a suitable attire. Had you alerted us about your arrival, we could have ordered a set of clothing from the seamstresses." There was an unmistakably sarcastic tone in Blackfish's voice.

Sandor glanced up surprised, then something close to a smile crossed his face. The last few tugs and the clothing settled as well as it could, indeed tight and bursting from its seams across his shoulders and forearms. The breeches were somewhat better fit, although much too short.

"I am coming with you," Sansa declared. "Just give me a moment to change."

"No need to trouble yourself, child. It is only Clegane we want to talk to. You can stay here and rest…" Blackfish's gaze swept across the bed again "…after your bath."

"I am not a child and I will come. If there is anything you need to ask him, I will be there as well. Just try and stop me. Sandor, please, wait for just a moment." Sansa disappeared behind a wooden screen between a small recess and the chamber and changed quickly into a dress – it was probably her mother's from the Northern style of it and it fit well, being only slightly loose from the body. She concluded that she couldn't do much about her hair but decided that after a bath it could be expected to be somewhat tangled.

"I am ready," she emerged into the room. For whatever it is that waits us.


In any other circumstances Sansa would have paid more attention to her surroundings while being led through the keep to study the place where her mother had grown up, but for now her mind was too occupied to pay attention to such things. After many turns Blackfish finally led them to a comfortable room with a large table and six chairs, a writing desk, shelves stacked with papers and leather-bound books - possibly Hoster Tully's solar, now serving King in the North. Behind the table sat Robb, Lady Catelyn and young Edmure Tully, whom Sansa recognised both from his appearance so similar to her mother's as well as from the Tully sigil dominantly displayed in his attire. All three of them seemed surprised to see Sansa.

"Sansa dear, what are you doing here? We asked to speak specifically alone with the H…Sandor Clegane," said Lady Catelyn. She seemed to have composed herself during the break and was a noble lady and the mother of the king once again, not a woman reduced to tears at the sight of her long lost children.

"He is my husband and if he is interrogated, I want to be there. I am not anymore a child you can order about."

"He is not as much interrogated as simply asked a few questions. You have to admit it is a wild tale you are telling, and we want to hear more, from his own lips." Robb looked at her warily. Yet he must have concluded from Sansa's stubborn expression that it would be useless to try to send her away, as after a while he sighed. "Very well then. You can stay – but please sit at the end of the table and promise you will not interfere. We will talk later, but for now I don't want to hear from you. If you indeed are not a child as you suggest, can you promise to do that? If you break these conditions I have no choice but to have you forcibly removed. Understand?"

It was a king's voice he spoke with and Sansa muttered her acquiescence to the terms, settling into a chair at the other end of the table. Sandor had sunk directly in front of Robb, who was flanked by his mother, his uncle and great-uncle. The two men stared at each other but this time their expressions were not threatening but rather like those of two opponents taking a measure of each other before the first blow is struck in the battlefield.

"So, can you tell us with your own words how you ended up here with my sisters, Clegane? Take all the time you need and leave nothing out. I promise I will not challenge your words without first hearing you out – but you have to tell us your side of the story."

Sandor looked at Sansa, who tried to smile at him encouragingly. She knew how much Sandor hated to explain himself, but in their earlier discussions she had emphasised to him how it was the only way to make her kin understand. She prayed he would be patient and obliging.

For the most part he was. In curt but clear sentences he summarised the events that led to him smuggling Arya away from the Red Keep, much of it being news to the others. He told about Cersei's orders for the arrest of the whole House Stark household and what had transpired between that and the execution of Lord Eddard. Lady Catelyn turned away when her husband's fate was touched upon but Robb stared ahead with no sign of emotion.

"And you placed her in the whorehouse?" Edmure repeated at one point.

"Aye, a whorehouse – but not just any dump but a high class establishment, the only one of those in the Street of Silk not run by Littlefinger. Too bad if it busts your balls, but I didn't happen to know any Silent Sisters. The place was well guarded, she stayed at the back of the house and the cook was a decent person who treated her well. Ask herself if you don't take my word for it."

Hearing about the way how Joffrey had treated Sansa shocked all of them. When Sandor told how every victory by Robb's forces meant punishment for Sansa it was Robb's turn to turn away, looking like he was going to be sick. Yet he stayed true to his word and didn't interrupt Sandor.

Sandor also covered the man of the Night's Watch and his anticipated role, then the last straw that saw him taking things into his own hands. His description of their escape was almost mechanistic with the way he described their route, the precautions he had taken, how they had evaded the searching parties and taken care of themselves during their long journey.

He didn't tell about the meeting with the septon but that was sure to come out soon anyway, Sansa guessed. Sandor's story finished at the gates of Riverrun, after which he shrug his shoulders.

"And here we are now."

The others asked a few clarifying question, each in turn. Were any of the Stark men still kept in the Red Keep? Did he act on his own or did he have accomplishes? Had the Lannisters had any notion of the role he had played in Arya's disappearance? It was Robb who voiced probably the one question in all their minds.

"Why, Clegane? Why did you do this? You are – have been – a loyal Lannister man all your life, sworn shield to the Queen and the King. The North is nothing to you. So can you help me to understand why did you do it?"

Sansa held her breath. She had wondered the same question herself many times and had never gotten a wholly satisfactory answer. Since learning about his feelings towards her she had concluded them to be a possible factor – but why would he have acted thus when the possibility of the two of them actually ending up together must have been near non-existent in his mind before?

Sandor didn't like the question, that much was clear from the way he shuffled in his seat and frowned. He started answering once, then interrupted as if to gather his thoughts, then started again.

"My reasons are my own, I once said to Lady Sansa. They still are, but I guess some of them have already been revealed. It is just… I spit on knights and buggering codes of chivalry, and don't you even think about casting me into that role. Knights are for killing and that's that. And yet there has to be some sense in it all." He challenged Robb with his gaze daring him to contradict him, but hearing nothing he continued.

"Old King Robert and Lord Eddard overthrowing that bloody madman on the throne, fine by me. Robert putting down the Greyjoy rebellion, good riddance of the fucking squids. Lord Eddard to be executed in cold blood just because he dared to snoop around the Lannister twins and their depravity – that didn't sit well with me. Neither did Joffrey pouring shit on a helpless girl, a girl he was supposed to wed. Joffrey is a vile little cunt and Cersei is another and I had had enough of them both."

And finally, of course it was Lady Catelyn who asked the biggest question of them all.

"And how did this marriage Sansa talked about come to take place, and how do we know it is true? Was it one of your reasons?"

Sandor's eyes met Sansa's and she smiled. Almost imperceptibly a lopsided smile crossed his lips as well but Catelyn caught it just the same and turned to look at Sansa. She lowered her eyes but not before seeing puzzled expression on her mother's face.

"It is true. We met Septon Merigold from Pinkmaiden on the road some five days hence and he wed us in the Faith of the Seven, witnessed by his man servant Sylvan and Lady Arya. We have a parchment bearing signatures declaring us man and wife beyond all doubt. It is in my saddle pack, unless your men pilfered it while apprehending me and taking our horses."

"Only five days?" Robb queried, visibly relieved. "And only two witnesses?"

Sansa had to bite her tongue to refrain from speaking.

"Aye, only five days. And nights." The meaning of Sandor's words was unmistakable and Sansa blushed.

"You have forced yourself on my little girl, you mean?!" Lady Catelyn's voice trembled.

"The only one planning to force himself on your girl was that twat you and Lord Eddard willingly betrothed your precious daughter," Sandor snorted. "Had I not whisked her away after Joffrey got her stripped in front of the while court, I'd wager her virtue wouldn't have stayed intact for much longer. Our king has started to grow up and I could see the look on his face when he glared at her teats. And it is just a small move from torturing defenceless animals to torturing unprotected maidens."

Sansa clutched her hands together so hard she felt her fingernails digging into her flesh. Sandor had never mentioned any of that to her, only talked about threat of maiming and public humiliation. The thought of Joffrey taking by force what she had willingly given to Sandor made her nauseated.

She didn't seem to be the only one feeling that way judged by dismayed and somewhat ashamed countenance of her mother.

"That…was our mistake. We didn't know Joffrey and King Robert was Ned's oldest and dearest friend," Lady Catelyn whispered.

"And that fat bastard was such an exemplary role model for the boy?"

Sansa knew Sandor had always resented her parents' choices but she hoped his derision wouldn't antagonise her mother too much.

"Was the marriage the price she had to pay for your help?" Robb was clearly ready to move on from dangerous waters.

"Bloody hells, what do you take me for?! I asked her nothing in return. I did have in mind though to ask you for a fair reward so I could haul my ass across the Narrow Sea. There is nothing for me in Westeros after I pissed off the lions." Sandor glanced at Sansa and his featured softened. "There wasn't."

"So why to marry her?"

"If you are as stupid as you sound the North has no chance under your kingship," Sandor snarled. Sansa closed her eyes. Why does he have to be so mocking? She realised Sandor's reluctance to talk about his feelings – he hadn't told even her in so many words what he felt. But to say that to the man in whose hands their future happiness resigned…

Robb didn't look much pleased and started to respond but Lady Catelyn raised her hand shutting down his son.

"You did it because you love her," she breathed. It was not as much as a question but a statement.

Robb stared at her mother but Blackfish and Edmure only had eyes for Sandor. So did Sansa, holding her breath while waiting what Sandor would say next.

He didn't. He only stared defiantly at Lady Catelyn, then at the others. He studiously avoided Sansa though, and she was not the only one who noticed it. Lady Catelyn's eyes flicked between Sandor and her daughter but Sansa registered it only fleetingly, so absorbed she was at studying her husband; the man she had found insufferable at first sight, baffling and intriguing later – and now the only man she could ever imagine spending her life with.

The silence stretched on and on, nobody breaking it. Finally Lady Catelyn broke it.

"I believe we have heard all we needed to hear, for now. I thank you for your honesty."

Taking it as a cue that he was let off the hook Sandor got up and glancing at Sansa walked to the door, muttering something she couldn't quite hear. As the door opened Sansa saw Arya behind it, accompanied by one of the Tully household knights. She remembered a muted discussion between Blackfish and one of the servants some moments ago; he must have asked somebody to fetch Arya.

"You have heard him. Do you believe us now?" Sansa stood up, thinking it would be acceptable for her to talk now that the interview with Sandor was over.

"Yes, we heard him. And I believe he did the things he said he did. I am still not sure why – and that is what is really important," Lady Catelyn said.

"Sansa, you can't blame us for wanting to be sure that we are not letting a traitor amongst us. Who is to say that he didn't do all those things because he was advised so by the Lannisters? He could have befriended you and offered to take you away just as a means to infiltrate our house. Your escape does sound a little bit too easy to me – the two of you just walking out of the Red Keep?"

Robb's expression was obstinate and for a briefest moment Sansa wondered if Sandor's comment about his stupidity was that far off. She felt guilty soon enough though. There was a huge burden on Robb's young shoulders and it behove him well to be suspicious and not too trusting. He only had to be made to see the truth.

"Are you going to talk to Arya as well? She can tell you more."

"Yes, we asked her to come. And after we have spoken to her, we will want to hear your side of the story."

The door opened and Arya burst in.

"What is it now, why was I asked to come here?"

"Dear Arya, thank you for coming. We are just trying to put the pieces together of all that has transpired recently and would like to ask you a few questions," Lady Catelyn answered her question soothingly.

Arya studied everyone around the table with narrowed eyes but sat down in the chair Sandor had just vacated. Sansa also took a seat, deciding that she needed to hear this discussion as well.