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Sansa:

Sansa waited for Sandor, thinking back on the past few days. They had been miserable. She was still heartbroken and being around him was harder than she imagined it could be. And he made it all the worse by holding her when they rode and speaking to her so rarely. When he did speak it was either hateful or confoundingly gentle. He hadn't called her his Little Bird either. That stung the worst.

She was behaving rudely. Instead of keeping her courtesy about her as she planned, she found that she could not speak to him without venom spilling out of her mouth. She was always furious with him.

The fact that she had to stay so close to him did not help, either. Stranger's swaying rhythm beneath her and Sandor behind her kept Sansa in a constant state of almost-arousal. Almost-arousal and not full arousal because she was constantly shaming herself into hating the feeling. She would feel the tingle start and she would remember him saying that he got what he wanted. She would see how he looked at her with hateful eyes and told her to leave him alone. She would feel the way he pulled away from her and left her, coming down from an amazing peak and suddenly left cold, confused, and exposed. And with that, she would fight off the arousal until it came upon her again.

The strain was starting to get to her, though. She had not slept more than a few hours in days and she was always hungry and thirsty. She knew her moon's blood would be coming soon, and that made her feel even more sickly. Instead of getting nastier with the Hound, however, she found herself less able to fight him. All she wanted was for him to tell her that it was all a bad dream. That they had experienced those wonderful hours in the cave and she had fallen asleep in a blissful exhaustion and just had a nightmare. She wanted to feel his arms around her again, warmly and welcomed, not like the way they rode these days. She wanted him to call her Little Bird again, more than anything.

She was thinking this to herself when she heard the rustle of someone's approach. Scared, she ducked down and tried to hide, clutching Sandor's dagger tightly. She heard him chuckle then, and felt herself relax.

"Not much of a hiding place, girl, but I'm glad you didn't need one. Here, put these on quickly. I have baths and food waiting for us at the inn. We should be fine. And I'll keep you safe one way or the other." Sandor tossed her the clothes.

Quickly, Sansa took a few steps away, behind some trees and tried to undress herself. She was so exhausted and could not get her fingers to cooperate to undo her laces. Come on, hands just unlace the dress! I cannot ask him for help with this! She shouted to herself, trying to spur her mind and body into a more conscious state. Frustrated, she pulled and pulled at her laces. After a few minutes, she began whimpering and tried to pull the dress off without unlacing it, but that was just not possible.

"What are you whining about over there, girl, and what is taking so damn long?" Sandor called out beyond the tree line.

Just get his help and be done with it!

"Can you come here? I need help unlacing this dress."

It was a few moments before she heard Sandor move to help her. He came over to her slowly and he looked cautious, like this might be a trap.

I hate that look. Like I was the one who used him.

"Turn around," he said quietly.

"Thank you, ser," she said pointedly, looking into his eyes. She could not exactly name the emotion she saw there.

She turned around and felt Sandor's big hands grasp the laces. It felt good to have his hands that close again. Stop it, stupid! He seemed to fumble with the laces, though. It occurred to her that he did not have much experience undressing ladies. Because he is a brute and probably just rips and cuts dresses off of his whores. An image of Sandor ripping her dress from her body flashed into her mind without permission, and she tried to fight it away. She could finally feel him get the idea of the lacing on her dress and he moved down her back more quickly.

When he got to the end of the laces, he seemed to pause, his hands still on her dress. Sansa started heating up under those hands, imagining him staring at her exposed back. Stop it, stop it, stop it! But then he was gone, without another word. Sansa stood there another moment, trying to control her breathing before she pulled her dress down and off, and pulled the new one on. It was a commoner's dress, rough and ugly, but it fit her well. More of her chest was showing than she would have liked, but common woman often showed more flesh than highborn ladies. There was a scarf, too, she noticed, so she wrapped it about her head, covering her hair and hiding her face slightly.

When she walked back to Sandor, she noticed his eyes moving up and down her body, stopping at her chest a few times. He looked like he was in pain and he shifted around on his feet. Good, I hope he suffers. I hope he remembers what we did and that it bothers him the way it has been eating at me. With this thought in her mind, Sansa stood a little taller and straighter, her chest pushed out slightly.

"Shall we go now, my lord?" she asked sweetly.

"We have to eat in a hall, girl, with others around. Whores and drunk men. There's music and dancing. Listen and look all you want, but don't talk to anyone. And for tonight you are my daughter. Remember that. Don't leave my sight."

He took her arm then, grabbed Stranger's reins, and pulled them both back towards the town.

Seven fucking hells, he thought, as he heard Sansa ask him to help her unlace her gown. He hesitated a moment and got his breathing under control. He walked over to her. He saw her flushed. He liked that. She had more color now than she had for the past two days. She looked better with her color back. Her hair was messy and her gown was slightly ruffled. He knew she must have struggled for some time before finally admitting defeat. He approached her slowly. He did not want her to start growling at him and he didn't want to have a reason to growl at her.

Telling her to turn around, he started untying the laces. However, this was nothing like men's clothes or laces on breeches and he found himself making a few knots that he had to untangle. He was fumbling with the laces and his hand itched to grab his knife and slice the damn thing off of her. The image of that found its way to his mind's eye and he felt himself go half-hard. Stupid dog, get a grip on yourself. You will not do that to her. You will stay away from her. For her.

Finally, he figured out the damned lacing and he watched as more and more of his Little Bird's back was exposed to his sight. He had to stop himself from running his fingers down her back. Had to stop himself from touching her creamy skin. Had to stop himself from kissing and licking down the skin he saw there, as he untied more and more laces. Then, it was finished, all the laces done. He found himself still holding the dress and staring at her body. His cock was hard as iron now. Get away from her, he told himself. And he did.

He had willed his cock back down when Sansa came out from the cover of the trees. When he saw her, his cock started to rise up again and Sandor found himself looking over her body again and again. Trying to stay in control, he kept thinking about the fat woman in the shop. I'll kill that fucking mouthy woman, he told himself as he stared again at the Little Bird. The dress fit her, but her absolutely delicious breasts were almost spilling out of it. Fucking hells, I swear I'll kill her the second we step back in that town.

You need to get her back to the inn, feed her, and get the fuck away from her as soon as you can, dog, before you do something stupid. With that, he grabbed her and Stranger and pulled them to the village. He left Stranger at the stables by the inn, giving a boy there a few coins to take care of him.

"Careful with him, or he'll kill you, boy," Sandor growled out, taking Sansa by the arm again and leading her to the inn.

There seemed to be more people around now, eating and drinking and whoring and dancing. The innkeeper spotted him and showed him to a table in the corner of the room. He sat down with his Little Bird as they were brought food and wine.

Quickly, Sandor drank down a flagon of wine and ordered another one, while Sansa started eating hungrily. He was halfway through the second flagon before he realized how drunk he was likely to get if he kept on this way. Can't do that, dog. You get drunk, you fuck the Little Bird, end of story. Then you might as well kill yourself for ruining the only good and pure thing left in the world. Reluctantly but decidedly, Sandor put down the flagon and started eating some food. Unfortunately, he already started to feel his head going fuzzy. He had been without strong wine for a week and he had very little in his stomach to counter the effects of the wine. You're ok, dog, just keep eating and don't drink more. You still have your mind about you and that's all you need.

Sansa had finished eating and she was looking around the hall curiously. She liked being around people again, even common people in a place like this. It was nice to be full and to be distracted from her heartache. She watched as men laughed and drank and ate. Watched whores wiggling on men's laps, whispering things into their ears. Sansa was almost jealous of the whores she saw here. Not that I'd ever want to be one, but it must be nice to be so free with yourself. So confident in yourself. I could never be that sure of myself with a man.

Finally, Sansa watched where a large group of people were dancing. Sansa dearly loved to dance and sing and wished she was with them. Sandor would never ask me to dance, she thought to herself. No! The Hound. And you would never want the Hound to ask you to dance. He is so big anyway, it would be uncomfortable trying to dance with him.

After a few minutes watching, Sansa noticed a young man looking at her. Sansa looked away from him shyly, remembering how the Hound told her not to talk to anyone. Looking back, she noticed the Hound was watching her, as well, and his eyes looked a little glazed. She noticed the flagon of wine in his hand and figured he would be getting drunk. I wish he wouldn't.

"What are you staring at, girl?" he rasped.

"I just like dancing. It's so much fun. But I think I'll just go up and bathe now."

"You'll wait, girl. I have to take a piss and I want to check out the room before you go up into it alone. You never know who might be lurking up there, stupid bird. Just wait here, I won't be long." With that, the Hound got up and walked out the door.

Sansa took a few more sips of wine and bites of food while she waited for him to return. It seemed to be taking longer than it should for him to make water. She looked back at the dancers. The man watching her was watching her still and smiling at her now. He was young and handsome. She gave him a small smile back, trying to be polite. She turned back to her wine.

"Hello, miss." The young man had walked over to her and was talking to her. What do I do? The Hound told me not to talk to anyone. Slowly, Sansa looked up at the youth. He had light brown hair and eyes and was a little taller than her. "I'm Willem," he continued, "and I noticed you come in. Is that man your husband?"

Not wanting to talk, Sansa shook her head but remained silent. Willem's face lit up with a brilliant smile.

"Would you care to dance with me? I saw you watching the dance. I promise I am an excellent dancer, you won't regret it. Your feet will remain untouched the entire song." He smiled at her invitingly.

Sansa wanted to dance so badly. She had not danced since the king was at Winterfell. She looked around and saw the Hound was still not back. She decided it could not possibly hurt to have fun with this Willem. No one knows you are a highborn lady. Why not enjoy yourself while you play the part of a commoner?

Still not talking to him, Sansa smiled brightly and nodded and took the hand he offered t to help her up. He led her to the dance floor and started to dance with her, his hands lightly on her. He had not lied, and was a very good dancer. Sansa felt alive and energized as she danced with him. She was happy to lose herself in the motion and the music. She had not felt this happy since...since the cave with Sandor. She pushed the thought out of her mind and kept dancing, Willem taking a firmer hold of her as he spun her around the room.