Author's Notes: Almost at the end… still to follow a brief epilogue (I love those things and can't help myself…)!
Sandor & Arya
"Uh, it is you."
"Who did you expect?"
"No one. Anyone. The little bird, or a guard to drag me to the dungeons."
"They won't be doing that! You saved us."
"Hmmmpph."
"Did they ask you too to tell them everything from the start?"
"They did. I told."
"You didn't tell them about Mycah – I had to tell them that and they were like they hadn't hear anything about it before."
"Your butcher's boy wasn't part of the tale how we three ended up here."
"But he was! It shows that you are not the monster they thought you are."
"I am a monster and they are quite right to think so. I never pretend to be anything I am not and neither should you."
"No you are not. You are a good man."
"Har! Many names have been thrown at me, some more colourful than others and most of them not fit for your ears, but this takes the top. 'Good man', pffft!"
"You are! Take Mycah; mother told that he did come to Winterfell, got a place in the kitchens and is now an assistant to the meat cook. Had you not been a good man he would be dead, his bones thrown into a ditch."
"Good on the boy, but it was not my doing."
"But it was! And how about me; if you hadn't smuggled me away I would have been a Lannister prisoner like Sansa. They would have forced me to look at my father's head, and I am not sure you would have been able to prevent me for toppling Joffrey. And then I would be dead too. Or at least beaten, just like Sansa."
"Fuck that, it was only…"
"Or Sansa! I heard what you told about Joffrey, I listened behind the door. Had you not saved her, that horrible Joffrey would have tormented her even more, would have even taken her to his bed. Imagine Sansa there – you know better than I do what it could have been. But it didn't happen because you took her away and saved her. I know you don't think it was being good but it was!"
"Gods girl, stop that chittering already! What the fuck is being good anyway?"
"Being good is not how you look like or what you say, but what you do."
"If I smack you in the head now does that count being good?"
"You won't. You are a good man, I told you."
"Shut up about it already."
Sansa
If Sandor had eyed his interrogators like opponents in a battle, Arya's gaze was that of a defender; stubborn and obstinate and not ready to give in.
She explained their adventures along the same lines as Sandor had, but telling more about her stay in the brothel. From the way she described the events it sounded like a relaxing stay in a country house; days full of exciting activities such as shopping excursions, playing with animals such as pigs, chicken and lapdogs belonging to the house's inhabitants, culminating in sumptuous meals whose preparation she had been privileged to observe at close quarters. Sansa had to hide her smile and at times Robb's mouth tugged in the corners, they both seeing how taken Arya would have been with freedom such situation afforded her.
"Did you know what that place was?" Robb asked.
Arya frowned. "Of course I knew. Sandor wouldn't have lied to me, he is always honest."
"And did you discourse much with the…ladies there?" Catelyn didn't seem to fully buy in Arya's tale of a carefree and innocent existence.
"Not much. They stayed at the front of the house, I at the back. But I did talk to some of them and they were always very friendly and nice to me."
"Did they walk around scantily clad all the time?" That was Edmure and the rest of the party turned their heads in his direction and Blackfish hissed at him to stay quiet if he had no real questions to ask. Sansa smiled internally although outwardly she stayed serious – she had wondered the same and had asked Arya about it.
"No, I never saw anyone in anything but proper dresses."
Sansa knew that not to be exactly true, but she didn't begrudge little white lies if they made Sandor look less likely to have damaged Arya's innocence. Most of all she was grateful that Arya had not said anything about Aline. Gods! If their mother heard about Sandor's visit to a brothel to be serviced by a girl that looked like her…. She hadn't asked Sandor himself about the incident and had decided not to. It was in the past, before he had been hers. Maybe someday they might share with each other the paths that had taken them together – but for now it didn't matter.
The main thing Arya's story conveyed was that she had not been mistreated or suffered, and all her interrogators seemed to be happy to leave it at that.
"And why do you think Sandor Clegane decided to help you?"
Arya grimaced. "I know you all think he is just a brute, but he is much more than that! He was my friend already in Winterfell, and once you get to know him you too will realise that he is not as bad as people make him to be."
"That may be so, but you didn't answer my question." Robb was clearly not in a mood to discuss about the character of Sandor Clegane just yet.
"I told you! He was my friend. Would you not help your friend if they were going to be arrested by bad people?" Arya's eyes flashed but she controlled herself admirably, Sansa thought. "And then of course there was Sansa. He liked her, I knew that. He never said as much, of course, but I knew."
"Did he ever say anything about wanting to marry her?" Lade Catelyn queried.
"Nah. He would have never done anything about it, I suspect, had I not told him that Sansa liked him too." Arya shrugged her shoulders.
"You? You said that Sansa liked him? Was that even true?" Lady Catelyn's eyes flicked to Sansa.
"Of course it was! I am not a liar! She liked him just fine. I suspected it ever since he saved Mycah, but after I tested her, I knew for sure."
"Mycah? Wasn't that the boy he killed on the way to King's Landing? Ned wrote about it, he was most devastated by the cruel justice meted by the king."
"But Sandor didn't kill him! He gave him new clothes and some coin and sent him to Winterfell – didn't he come there?" Suddenly Arya was all concerned. Lady Catelyn looked thoughtful and stayed silent for a while, before an expression of comprehension crossed her face.
"Mykkel! A young boy came to Winterfell not many weeks after you left, asking for a place to stay and work. He claimed to have lost all his family and being an orphan, and that he knew his meat and butchering. He was sent to the kitchens to help the cook and he did well there, soon advancing to the first assistant to the cook in charge of meat. He is there still."
There was no mistaking the gleeful grin on Arya's face. "I told you so! Sandor didn't want to kill him and considered that his duty as Joffrey's shield was done when he sent Mycah away. As if Mycah would have ever done anything to Joffrey – he never did in the first place. It was all Joffrey's fault."
All four behind the table looked thoughtful at those words, and it took a while before Blackfish got back to Arya's other words.
"You said you tested her – what did you mean?"
Arya glanced at Sansa somewhat abashed. "I told Sandor that if Sansa chose to ride with him rather than with me, even though it was quite safe, it would mean that she liked him. And when we set our first camp I put our bedrolls next to each other and his things on the one furthest out, and told him that if Sansa chose to sleep next to him, it too meant that she liked him."
Sansa gasped. She had been played and she hadn't even realised it! Some of the looks and smirks which at the time had confused her started to make sense now. Oh gods, was I that transparent?!
"And then what?" Lady Catelyn pressed on.
"Well, they must have talked a lot on the journey, riding together and all, and in the evenings they stayed back at the campfires and talked more. And then they fell in love for real and wanted to stay together and really, what else is there to do but to get married?"
"This marriage… do you think Sansa truly wanted it, or was she pressured into it?" Robb seemed to choose his words carefully, refusing to look in Sansa's direction.
Arya squirmed on her seat. "Well, I might have suggested it first. Sandor thought I was being stupid and Sansa talked about duty and obligation to a family, but then they both saw that it was the only way. In the end it was actually Sansa who practically asked him to marry her. I was not supposed to hear that but I did."
Lady Catelyn's loud intake of breath resonated across the room. She raised her hand to clutch her collar and looked positively ill. Robb and Blackfish frowned and Edmure stared wide-eyed at the little girl in front of him, then at Catelyn, and a small smile spread across his boyish face. Fleetingly Sansan wondered if Edmure recognised something of his older sister in Arya; had her own lady mother been as wilful in her youth?
"You suggested the marriage?" Lady Catelyn's voice trembled.
"I did. Surely it was better than the alternative? Those two are meant to be together. You may not see it now but they are." Arya crossed defiantly her arms in front of her and leaned back on her chair.
After that followed only a few very carefully constructed questions about the rest of their travel, clearly designed to find out more about their sleeping arrangements. Again to Sansa's relief Arya didn't mention anything about their wedding night or the way how Sandor had bundled and tied her up. She decided she needed to give her heartfelt thanks to her little sister afterwards for her discretion – although when Arya went on to describe how Sansa and Sandor had retired early every evening to their private shelter only to emerge from it late in the morning, she found herself wishing that Arya wouldn't be quite as eager to prove the validity of their marriage.
Eventually the others had heard enough, thanked Arya for her contribution and she was escorted out of the room.
Then all eyes turned to Sansa and she knew it was time for her to put her side of things forward. She moved to the hot seat wondering if she would be able to convey the stressful situations and the powerful emotions that had dictated her course of action. She sighed deeply. I simply have to.
"Sansa dear, we have now heard from Clegane and Arya and have a reasonably good picture of the events as they have transpired. Is there anything else you might want to add?" The love in her mother's eyes shone through as she regarded her daughter and Sansa wanted nothing more than to make her understand, make all of them understand.
"What they say is what happened. What Sandor told about the events in the court were true as well. You may suspect that he exaggerated what Joffrey did to me, but I assure you it was not the case." Tears came unbidden to Sansa's eyes. "Joffrey… he took me to the battlements to show me father's head on the spike, and that of Septa Mordane. And he was smirking! I don't know what came to me then, but I wanted to kill him…"
Sansa had to swipe her eyes with her sleeve, but she forced herself to not give in to the horror of those terrible moments. "I would have. I would have pushed him over the parapet had Sandor not come to stop me. And he did it in a way that didn't reveal my intentions; he only bent down to swipe blood from my lip, ever so gently. Joffrey never knew – but I know that Sandor had seen what I intended to do. He saved my life that day as surely as he did that of Joffrey's."
The shock her mother displayed didn't escape Sansa but she had no words to console her about the horror of her firstborn daughter having to witness her lord husband's lifeless head being displayed for his enemies.
"Blood? What blood?"
"That was the first time Joffrey asked his Kingsguard to hit me. A fisted gauntlet on the face tends to cause bleeding." Seeing her mother's eyes widen in horror Sansa hastily added, "Sandor never hit me, Joffrey never asked him to. He might have known he would refuse. And once he interrupted Joffrey, the time that saw us leaving."
The silence that followed was deafening. After a while Sansa continued, wanting not only to be answering questions but putting forward her own case as well – or that of Sandor's, as it may be.
"You think you may know something of Sandor Clegane, the Hound as he is called. That he is a remorseless killer, a man who mocks gods and man alike." She took a deep breath and prayed that Sandor would forgive her what she was about to do. "And yet you know nothing of the man himself."
"So tell us about him. Make us understand what you and Arya see in him that has escaped our notice." Robb's voice was almost tender.
"Most people don't know what caused the terrible burns in his face. They think it was a battle or some other atrocity and probably blame him for it. But it was his own brother who did it! He was just a young boy, six or seven, and he played with Gregor's toy and for that crime Gregor pressed his face into hot coals and changed his life forever."
All four leaned ever so subtly forward, rapt by the tale Sansa was telling.
"His father never punished Gregor for what he did – he was probably afraid to. And some years later Sandor's father and brother went hunting and his father never came back. And then there was what happened to his mother and sister…" Sansa's voice broke. Sandor had yet to share the story of them with Sansa but she knew there was something sinister behind it, something to do with Gregor.
"Sandor joined the Lannisters as that was the only place where he felt safe and where he was welcomed. Not for his own sake, mind you, but for what he could do to them. Lord Tywin took him in and when he was twelve, he was sent to the sacking of King's Landing and he killed his first man."
Sansa had put together this sad tale from many snippets Sandor had shared with her, never telling his story in full but revealing enough just the same.
Robb shifted in his seat and Sansa addressed him. "He was only a boy! And it was his own brother! Imagine you doing that to Brandon, and then killing our father, and gods forbid, mother and me. Imagine how it would be for Brandon? He dreamt of becoming a knight – and so did Sandor. How do you think a boy treated like that grows up to be, in the house ran by the Lannisters?"
Nobody didn't seem to have anything to say. Sansa's eyes had dried and she continued more steadily.
"Sandor may be many things; brusque, uncouth, too honest for his own good, a killer. I deny none of those things. But deep inside he is a good man – he just has never had a chance to let that show." She smiled. "And he is good to me. Never has a woman been treated more gently or with more reverence."
"Reverence?" Blackfish raised his eyebrows and Sansa knew he was referring to the messy bed he had seen in their chamber. She blushed.
"He is my husband in all ways possible, that is true."
"And you gave yourself to him willingly?"
"Yes mother, I did." A mischievous notion entered Sansa's head. "The last time only a few hours ago, under this very roof."
Blackfish rolled his eyes, Robb seemed to have found something fascinating in the grains of the wooden table, Edmure looked uncomfortable and Lady Catelyn frowned.
"And there is nothing we can do to persuade you to let go of the folly of this marriage?"
Sansa turned to her mother and regarded her for a moment. For the first time in her life she saw her not as the all-powerful mother, invincible lady of the house and the soft strength behind House Stark, but as another woman who had loved and lost and experienced all that life of a highborn lady brought with it. She knew that her marriage had been a happy one, eventually, but also that when she had first married she had hardly known her future husband.
"I am afraid there is not. I adhered to your and father's wishes once and it ended up disastrously. I love you and want to do my duty to our house in all the other ways I can, but on this I can't be dissuaded."
Her mother held her gaze.
"You love him too." Again, not a question but a statement.
Sansa didn't want to stay silent as Sandor had – she wanted to shout her answer from the rooftops.
"I do. I love him very much. I love the way he looks at me as he has never seen anything so wonderful. I love the way he touches me, so gently and softly that you wouldn't even think that be possible for a man with killer's hands. I love the way how he talks to me, really listening to what I have to say. I love the way he thinks and follows his own code, not maybe a knightly code but principled just the same."
There was more she wanted to say but her mother reached across the table and took her hand in hers, squeezing it tightly.
"Oh Sansa! I think we have heard enough. Please forgive us our actions – you must know it is only your best interest that drives us."
Sansa squeezed her mother's hand right back, a clump in her throat. Robb, Blackfish and Edmure murmured their own assertions and Robb got up and walked around the table to embrace Sansa. She rested her head against his considerably broadened shoulder and for the first time since they had walked up to the gates of Riverrun she felt that she had truly arrived home.
Once again back in their room Sansa walked restlessly back and forth, back and forth. She felt like a caged animal, not knowing what would happen next. She and Arya were home and safe, she was assured about that much, but what about Sandor? Would he be accepted by his new kin or would there be doubts and suspicions that would tear her loyalties and break her heart? Would he be hidden in their rooms or would he be welcomed to the Great Hall with the whole household present? Would she be expected to sit by the side of her family tonight? Enough people had seen them so there would be rumours and talk sweeping the keep already. How was her family going to explain the Hound's presence in Riverrun?
Sandor had seemingly accepted the situation and taken the old approach of an experienced soldier to a situation where there was nothing he could do – he was dozing off in the bed. Sansa wringed her hands and looked at him with a mixture of astonishment and annoyance. How could he be so relaxed when his fate was being decided by the people who had the happiness of them both in their hands?
Knock on the door interrupted her brooding. Without bothering to ask who it was she opened it – and found her mother behind it.
"May I come in, dear?"
"Of course mother, do enter." Sansa stepped aside and gestured to Sandor to get up. He did, still a bit groggy from the nap. Lady Catelyn swept her eyes around the room but this time Sansa was better prepared and no signs of the earlier encounter were visible. Yet just the sight of the large four-poster bed seemingly made her mother uncomfortable and she swept past it to the other end of the room.
"What can we do for you, mother?"
"My dear, I will come to the point directly." Lady Catelyn was beautiful and regal, dressed in Stark colours with a nod to her father's house in the form of a brooch depicting a leaping trout. She was a great lady and a mother of a king, and Sansa couldn't help feeling slightly nervous in front of her.
"You all have told us an extraordinary tale. I still don't quite know what to think of it, but it seems that we misjudged you at first, Clegane. Rest assured that you do have our gratitude for returning our girls to us."
Sandor gave her a wordless nod.
"I admit I would rather thank you and reward you handsomely but then see you on your way. Your position here is not easy – if we saw you as an enemy, so will every man and woman in our houses and among our bannermen." Sansa started to protest but Lady Catelyn raised her hand to stop her. "But I see it is not that easy. Whether I like it or not, you are married to my daughter. Even more, it seems that it is a bond neither you nor she are likely to relinquish easily."
"I will not!" Sansa couldn't contain herself anymore. "I will not leave him or let you chase him out. He is my husband in truth – and besides, I might even be carrying his child by now."
The unwelcomed reminder that her little girl was not so little anymore clearly made Lady Catelyn ill at ease, but once again she raised her hands, this time in supplication.
"I know it, my dear. I have seen it. And I suspect Clegane wouldn't leave you either, not without a fight." She took a deep breath and turned fully to face Sandor. "And fight is what I don't want. There is enough of it already and with Sansa and Arya safe I have advised Robb to end the hostilities and return home. He'll do as he sees fit as a king, but I'll have no division inside my own family at least. And hence, Sandor Clegane, I welcome you to our family and recognise you as my goodson and Robb as his goodbrother. What say you? Will you pledge your loyalty to our house as you have done to my daughter?"
Sansa's heart skipped a beat. This was all she had wanted; her husband and her family united, and to go home to Winterfell and leave the misery of the South behind her.
Sandor just stood there, taking measure of the woman staring at him unflinchingly. Sansa prayed that he wouldn't say anything rash. Finally he nodded again, slowly and never letting his eyes leave Lady Catelyn's.
"Aye. I will give you my promise to be loyal to your daughter and to your house, but if you expect me to kneel in front of you or your boy and swear some fucking vows you'll have another thing coming. Those things are for a bloody show for those who like to parade and pretend to be nobler than they are."
If Lady Catelyn was taken aback by his words she didn't show it.
"Very well then. I'll warn you; it is not going to be easy. Many eyes will be trained on you at all times only waiting for you to slip up. Many will question Robb's judgment for having allowed you to enter our house. All I ask is that you don't make it more difficult than it has to be, and that you will show us those same qualities that have made both my daughters to become devoted to you. Can you promise that much?"
"I can."
"And…" suddenly the mask of a regal lady crumbled and a loving mother peeked through "…treat my daughter well. Please. She has been through too much already and her wellbeing means a world for me." Her eyes were as pleading as were her words.
Sandor looked at Sansa and she caught a rare flicker of doubt in his expression. That he still thought that he could fail her in any way made Sansa want to go to him and tell him that she believed in him. And yet she had to let him do this alone.
"You have my word on that. If she ever regrets her choice or I fail her in any way, you can smite me down because as sure as hells as I'll deserve just that." Sandor's voice was low and gravelly and the tone of his declaration sounded more like a threat than a promise – but from the way Lady Catelyn held his gaze and tilted her head in acknowledging it, Sansa knew that something important had just transpired between the two people she loved the most in the world.
And so it was that later that evening Sansa found herself in the Great Hall of Riverrun, seated in the place of honour next to her brother the King in the North, Sandor by her other side. Arya sat between Robb and their mother, Blackfish next to Sandor and Edmure by his sister. Lord Hoster, as so often lately, had stayed in his sickroom. Sansa hoped she would be able to visit her grandfather soon – but it had to wait for another day.
If she had been unsure of how her family was planning to explain the presence of the hated Lannister Hound to Tully bannermen, it was solved by the speech given by Robb at the beginning of the dinner. He introduced his beloved sisters to all those gathered, followed by a brief statement about Sandor Clegane, also known as the Hound, having left House Lannister and joined House Stark not only as a bannerman but also as a family. He obviously shared Sansa's earlier sentiments about it being better to lay out the truth at once and face the consequences.
The news were met with gasps and exclamations, but out of respect to Robb and young Edmure nobody questioned him outright. Yet Sansa could feel the weight of many eyes on her and Sandor as they went through the meal.
You better get used to it, she told herself. You better show them and the world that this is a true marriage, and Sandor is better than what they think. We will show it to them together.
She sought Sandor's hand under the table and he returned the gesture. He looked at her and in his eyes Sansa saw the same determination she had seen before, when he had faced a challenge head on. It had been there in the throne room when he had shouted 'Enough!' to Joffrey, on the day when they had escaped from the Red Keep, many times on the road when faced with danger or capture – and on the night when he had asked her to marry him.
She smiled at her lord husband. She had lost her wolf, but she had found her hound.
Everything is going to be fine.
