Sorry about the wait. I hope you all enjoy this extra long chapter. A huge thank you to littlebirdhound who really helped me out with this one. Thanks all for reading.
Sandor stood tense, his mouth pulled back into a sneer. His sword was drawn and held firmly in one hand, while his other instinctively held Sansa behind him. He backed up, urging Sansa toward the door.
What in the bloody hells is Jaime Lannister doing here?
"Clegane," he said with an oddly surprised look on his face. "Well met." He leaned to the side to peer behind Sandor. "And I see you have my good sister with you. No doubt you've saved us from the arduous task of sifting through the endless snow to look for her."
Us?
Suddenly, the cold tip of a sword touched his throat. His eyes darted away from the Kingslayer to the ugly face of the largest woman he had ever seen, her eyes fixed and steady on his. She was here before searching for the little bird. She was not with the kingslayer though, a twit was tagging along instead.
"Where did you find her?" Jaime asked him, interrupting Sandor's stare. "We had thought- "
"Nevermind," he rasped. He took a step back, but the giant woman stepped closer, pressing the blade firmly against his throat. "Found a new woman, have you?" he said mockingly. "I see your standards have dropped lower than a puddle of piss."
Jaime grinned but the large woman, almost at a height of Sandor, scoffed and closed in on him, her face inches from his. "I'm no one's woman, Hound. And we'll be taking the Lady Stark." She looked over to Sansa then, her look softening. "My Lady, you are safe now, I promise you."
Sansa quickly recoiled with a gasp. In an instant, Sandor swatted the woman's sword and reared back, hitting the woman with the back of his elbow causing her to crash against the wall, while Sansa stumbled backward out of the doorway.
"Brienne!" Jaime yelled as he started forward just as Sandor caught him in the jaw with a left hook. Swiftly, Sandor turned and hurried toward Sansa where he gathered her up by the arm and led her to a stone wall, commanding her to stay as he turned his attention back to the Kingslayer and the huge wench. I've got to get the little bird out of here. Sandor was quick to notice Jaime's missing hand, how awkwardly he now held his sword and knew he could make short work of him, but it was obvious the large woman in man's armour knew her own way with a sword, and she was huge besides. Sandor held his stance, battle ready.
"Whoa, whoa, Clegane!" Jaime called out as he ducked under the beam of door, holding out his golden hand and slowly lowering his sword to the ground. "My lady, please! You have no cause for fear."
The Elder Brother quickly stepped out of the doorway from behind Jaime and stood between them. "I do not want any violence here! You know this is a place of peace," he added sternly. "This man is telling it true, Sandor," he said in a calm voice. "Listen to him. He and Lady Brienne are only here to help as you are want to do."
After a few tense moments, Sandor lowered his sword and glanced towards Sansa. She was cowering in fear. He stepped toward and reached for her, but she shrank back.
"Little bird, stop. I won't let anyone take you anywhere." He reached again for her but she wrenched away and ran. "Sansa!" he yelled and made to go after her, but the Elder Brother grabbed his arm. Sandor could only watch as Sansa disappeared down the steep steps in a fury of woolen skirts.
"Let her go," he said. "Let her have a few moments alone. She can't leave the isle, she will be safe." Sandor tightened his grip on his sword and turned towards Jamie and the woman Tarth.
"You stay away from her, the both of you," he growled through clenched teeth. "You don't know her, and you've scared her all over again."
"We're not here to harm her, Clegane, I assure you. We swore an oath to her mother that we would find her and keep her safe."
Sandor snorted loudly. "Think she'll believe you, Lannister? After your family kills her father, has your so-called knights of the kingsguard beat her bloody, forces her to marry your brother? Bugger off, before I take that other hand of yours."
"You need to hear what Jaime and Lady Brienne have to say," the Elder Brother pleaded gently. "They only want to help."
At that, Sandor gripped his sword even tighter and brought it up to Jaime's throat. He wasn't afraid for himself, he knew. Jaime Lannister wouldn't have him killed in cold blood, unlike his kin, but like hells if he was going to risk losing Sansa or let anyone hurt her again. If I have to spill blood, I will.
"What ever you've got to say, you'll bloody wait till I find her and you can tell her yourself. If she wants to listen, that is. But mark my words, Lannister," he said quietly, his voice thick and full of menace, "Anyone dares hurt her again will die by my own bare hands. Believe that."
"Mine too, Clegane," Jaime replied after a moment, his expression serious for a change. Sandor then sheathed his sword, and stormed down the steep steps, ignoring the Elder Brother's pleas to stop.
It was now dark , though the clouds had lifted and the moon was now bright in its fullest beauty. He had to find Sansa. Passing by Stranger's stall, Sandor grabbed a torch from the wall and lit it. He held it high and started toward the path up the hill, quickly and quietly. He did not know why he was going this way, but a feeling inside seemed to lead him on. He knew every square inch of the isle and this path especially well, and before long, he found himself in the lichyard.
He paused, waiting until he heard the tell-tale signs of a sad little bird. I used to be the butcher, then I came here. It was the sound of bloody chirping, everyday in my ears. Little birds singing as I sat here reminding me what I could be, what I should of been. The damn gods. Putting little signs everywhere. He snorted. Gods. Miserable bunch if you ask me, playing their little torture games.
Eventually, he heard soft hiccups, followed her gentle sobs. He spotted Sansa sitting in the snow, her arms wrapped around her knees, her cloak pulled tight and her face hidden in the hood.
He walked towards her, his foot falls crunching in the snow. Startled, Sansa scrambled to her feet, facing him. Her hood fell away from her tear-stained face, her mouth tightly closed and her arms crossed, but she held her head high and stood silently. As Sandor approached, he remembered the last time he stood with her in the dark, holding a torch, and a strange feeling overcame him. I told her that if she told anyone about my face, I would kill her. Kill her. A little girl, damn me. I should hand her this torch and let her finish me off.
He cleared his throat. "Sansa- "
"You lied to me," she interrupted coldly. "You said you would take me somewhere safe, you made me believe that you would keep me safe. You lied," she accused him. She spoke so quietly. A slight tremble in her voice gave way, but she stood firm. "Are they to give you bags of gold? How many bags am I worth, Sandor? Many I suppose, being that the queen will pay you. I go back to King's Landing and you save your neck, is that it?"
Sandor clenched his fists, and felt his mouth begin to twitch. I would die a thousand times.
Sansa stared at him, no expression on her face. Cold. "Of all the people in the world, Sandor Clegane, you had to be the one that sends me to my death?"
Sandor threw the torch to the ground and snuffed it out with his boot. He stepped closer, looming over her, and grasped her arms, firm, but gentle.
"You're right. I did lie. On more than one occasion, truth be told. But If you remember, girl, it was to save your sorry little arse." Sansa looked down, but he pulled her closer until she was resting against him, her head forced to look up at him. "No, you look at me! You hear the truth. I could just have easily kept my mouth shut in King's Landing, but instead risked my head on a spike to protect you. I've lied for you true enough, little bird, but never to you. And I don't aim to start."
Sansa stifled back a hiccup, and trembled. She rested her head against his chest, exhaustion clear in her sigh. "Is there no where safe for me, Sandor?"
"Not here. Not in Westeros. We have to leave. I want to take you north, but to what? Nothing's there anymore except war and winter. You'd be taken once more. Might be some other man will have you for himself. Is that what you want?"
"No," Sansa said sadly.
"Thought to buy us passage across the sea, but the war's made it damn near impossible unless you got gold. Lannister's got that. Elder Brother says he and that Tarth woman's here to help. Might be they could help us there. Anywhere but here."
She hesitated as she looked up at him. "I want to trust you. It's hard to. I don't know what to do, but I know that I don't want to be left alone with them. What if they..." Her voice was as soft as a feather. She looked down again.
"I won't leave you alone, little bird," Sandor declared firmly. "Make no mistake, I'll not leave your side." Gently, he lifted her chin, rubbing it with the pad of his thumb. "I swear to you Sansa Stark, my little bird from Winterfell, anyone tries to hurt you, I'll kill them. Believe that."
She looked up at him for a long moment, never taking her eyes off his, and gave him a small nod.
"Come now, girl. Eat, warm yourself, and we'll hear what they have to say."
Soon they were sitting at the long table in the common hall. They were alone save the lone silent brother that brought them food and mulled wine. Sandor sat beside Sansa, Jaime Lannister and Brienne across them, and the Elder Brother at the head of the table. The room was lit with several lanterns that hung from the low ceiling. They were served steaming bowls of hearty soup filled with salted pork, white beans , carrots and potatoes, with thick slices of fresh soft bread and sharp cheese.
The silence was awkward, but Sandor ate ravenously for he had not had a hot meal since the old woman's home. He dipped his bread in his bowl sopping up the thick broth. He noticed while Sansa did eat, she picked at her food constantly looking at the Kingslayer and the woman knight. She sipped her wine and took a deep breath. Sandor could not help but notice how her dress stretched across her chest as she did. Sansa dabbed her lips daintily. Always the little lady.
Finally the Elder Brother spoke.
"Lady Sansa, you must be tired from your journey. There are cottages here that we keep ready for the few women folk that visit us. You are not a captive here, so please feel free to speak freely with me," he said kindly.
"Thank you, ser" she replied quietly.
Jaime rested his golden hand on the table and leaned towards Sansa. "I had not realized you and Clegane were so close, Lady Stark." A grin passed over his lips. "What did you do to get him so loyal to you?"
"Shut- " Sandor started but was interrupted by Sansa.
"I did nothing. He helped me when no one else did. I owe him everything."
"Do you?" He inquired.
"The day Princess Myrcella sailed, a riot broke out and I was lost in the crowd. Gods only know what could have happened to me had he not come back. He saved me." Sansa turned to look at Sandor. "You came and found me at the Gate, as well. I will never forget what you have done for me." Sandor stared at her as she smiled at him timidly.
"Pardons, my lady," Brienne, interrupted. "We have been looking everywhere for you. I had even passed through this very isle once before asking after you. Where did you go? How?" She inquired.
Sandor waited for her to answer the woman's questions. He realized he had not yet been told what happened either. Littlefinger must have convinced her somehow. He probably did not tell her that he orchestrated her father's death, she should know that.
"I left right after Joffrey died. With Ser Dontos. I had been meeting with him..."
"Dontos?" Sandor asked incredulously.
"He told me would help me, and he did... in his way, but.."
"You put your trust in that fool? What were you thinking?"
"He was helping me plan an escape. Father was dead, Arya was gone, and I wanted to go home. But I didn't kill Joffrey, I swear it! No matter what he did to me I did not kill him." Sansa took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I just wanted to go home," she whispered.
"So you left with him," he rasped harshly, "but not with me?"
Sansa met his eyes. "You know why I didn't leave with you that night."
Sandor's mouth twitched, and he shifted in his seat.
"Wait a minute, Clegane," said Jaime. "You offered to take her away? When? What was going on in King's Landing between the two of you?" He asked surprised.
"Nothing went on and nothing you need to know about." Sandor retorted.
"Everyone, please," the Elder Brother said firmly. "Let the lady speak." He motioned for Sansa to continue as Sandor glared at Jaime.
Sansa sighed. "When Ser Dontos got me to the ship, Lord Baelish was there and had Ser Dontos killed. That poor man had helped me and was killed for it. Lord Baelish took me to my Aunt Lysa in the Vale and disguised me as his natural born daughter."
"Didn't your aunt try help you?" asked Jaime.
"She knew who I was and at first I thought she would help me, but then in a jealous rage she tried to push me out of the moon door, but Petyr saved me and pushed her out. It was awful. He said he would keep me safe and then he promised that one day I could go home. He had planned to marry me to Harold Hardyng of the Vale and that I would reveal myself as a Stark to reclaim Winterfell. Though I suspect it was more for his benefit than mine"
Wouldn't be a loss if that waste of skin got buggered in the arse with end of long sword and sent to the seven hells, not that he would even be welcome there. There's a special kind of hell for the likes of him….and my brother.
"How could you marry another when you are married to my brother?" Jaime asked a puzzled look across his face.
Sandor was also puzzled.
"I..." Sansa whispered, her face turning red. "I am still a maid."
Sandor's eyes widened. That explains her actions. Her innocence.
"My brother never... you two... never?" Jaime exclaimed loudly.
"No, my lord. He said he would not force me and would wait until I was ready." She looked at Sandor and her words left him speechless. "I told him I never would be."
Sandor clenched his jaw and then took a swallow of wine.
Sansa looked over to Jaime. She grew uncomfortable at the direction of the conversation and quickly moved to change the subject. "With all due respect, Ser Jaime," she said, "what purpose have you here? If you are not here to take me back to King's Landing, then why are you two searching for me?"
Jaime and Brienne exchanged looks. "My lady," Brienne looked nervously at Sansa, "it's about your mother, she... well, you need to know something."
"What of my mother, Lady Brienne? She is dead, is she not?" said Sansa.
Brienne tentatively rubbed the side of her neck. "It is true your mother died, but she was... brought back."
"What do you mean she was brought back?"
"By the Lord of Light."
Sandor choked on his swig of wine.
Sansa was silent for a moment. "I don't understand."
"Remember when I told you about the Brothers Without Banners? Well, Dondarrion fought me and burnt my arm but I killed the bastard. I can't explain what happened or how, but that drunk raving priest, Thoros, brought him back," Sandor explained. He rubbed the hair on his chin. "He seemed fine enough, so I don't know why your mother would be any different."
"Your mother's body was found by the Brothers Without Banners," Brienne explained. "And Beric gave his life to bring her back."
"She's alive?" She asked, her voice high pitched. "Where is she? Is she here? I must see her!" Sansa stood up in a hurry.
"My lady... I fear it's too late. She is not your mother anymore."
"What do you mean she is not my mother? I demand to see her!" Sansa exclaimed.
"Pardons, my lady, but I can't let that happen. She is not who you remember. It may be wise if you don't see her."
"Lady Sansa, please, sit down," the Elder Brother requested gently. "There is more you need to know."
Sansa took a deep breath and sat down slowly once again beside Sandor, gently clutching his hand under the table. He noticed she was tense and her back was straight as a board. He squeezed her hand gently. Don't worry little bird, I've got you.
"She tried to hang me," Brienne explained. "She hangs anyone that she believes betrayed her and your brother. She is not of this world anymore. There is only death that surrounds her and she is consumed with vengeance. My lady, I cannot stress to you enough that she is not your mother is difficult for me to tell you. I have seen the beauty of your mother, now she looks like the stranger himself. Your mother, Lady Catelyn Stark, is no longer. She is out for Lannister blood. Your husband is a Lannister, Clegane, too, was a Lannister man. I had to swear that I would bring Jaime to her. I cannot do that."
"I am thankful that you seem fond enough of me my lady," Jaime said smirking.
Brienne rolled her eyes at him and continued on. "Lady Sansa, when your mother was alive she only wanted you and sister brought to her. I promised your mother that I would find you and bring you to her. Ser Jaime also did swear to do the same. We mean to keep true to our oaths, my lady, even if it means protecting you from the woman she has become. It's no longer safe for you here."
Sandor squeezed Sansa's hand. No matter what I think of all this bloody fire god shit, I agree the little bird can't be found out. Even her kingly brother would have sent her to the Freys. He shuddered at the thought of what could have happened to Sansa.
"You've got gold?" Sandor asked gruffly, looking to Jaime with a hint of annoyance.
Jaime raised his brow. "Very perceptive of you, Clegane," he responded with a sardonic smile, examining his new hand. "I quite like it myself, but- "
"You want to help, do you? Gold will get us out of here quick enough. You can tell her mother who took her. Tell her that whoreson, Littlefinger, set this whole thing up. And that he killed her fool husband too."
"Sandor, he was my father!" Sansa exclaimed wrenching her hand away from his. "How can you say that!"
"Easily. Your father had too much honour for his own good, but he should have kept you and your sister in Winterfell, stayed there too. It was his stupid honour that got him killed, like it or not.
"This is all too much," she said, tears starting to creep down her face.
"My lady, please know we are only here to help you," Brienne said gently.
"Please, let me see my mother," Sansa said sadly. "She, wouldn't hurt me."
"If the woman that was brought back by the Lord of Light was your mother, I would take you to her, but she is not your mother, or at least not the mother you remembered, Sansa." Jaime said calmly.
"Give us gold, Lannister," said Sandor. "Get us a ship and I'll take Sansa across the sea. Essos, might be. You can send word when it's safe. Tell her mother where Littlefinger is. That should buy some favour with the woman."
"Sandor, what of my mother? I need to be with her," Sansa whispered.
"If what this pair says is true or not, you'll still be in danger. The queen could find out and send men looking for you."
"There is no telling what Cersei will do if she finds you, Sansa," Jaime said. "She is out for blood as well. She thinks you and Tyrion killed Joffrey. Nothing anyone says will change her thinking.
Sansa buried her face into her hands.
Sandor swallowed hard. This can't go on like this anymore. She needs some peace of mind. "Sansa," he said gently, after clearing his throat. "Listen, we have to protect you. We don't know who is left in your family. You are important to Westeros, but not if you are dead. Wherever you choose to go, I'll stay with you. I know it's hard to figure out what to do, but the sooner we leave the better. We can always come back when the time is right," he said trying to reassure her. "Between the Kingslayer and this woman warrior and myself, you will be more than protected."
Sandor looked away from Sansa quickly as Brienne and Jaime stood up. They both unsheathed their sword and fell to their knees. Bugger them.
"My lady, I swear my sword to you and only you, to protect you and give up my life to save yours," Brienne stated.
"I too, swear my sword, protection and life to you Lady Stark," Jaime said.
Sansa stared at them, her eyes wide open, she glanced at Sandor, then back again.
Sandor watched as she stood up.
"It is settled then, we will leave when a ship is found. Hear this, Sandor will always be by my side. If a choice comes I will always choose him, do I make it clear? I trust him. He will do what is necessary to protect me," she said matter factly with her chin up. "We will come back."
Bloody hells, little bird. Sandor felt his chest swell with a strange sense of pride. He stood up beside Sansa, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly as he glared at the kneeling pair. If we would have met this mis-matched twosome on the road I wouldn't have given it a second thought and ran them through.
Sandor turned to Sansa as she stifled back a yawn. She needs rest, I need to get the Elder Brother to look at my stitches and get out of these short breeches. He snorted loudly startling Sansa as he imagined Lothor Brunes face when he woke up with no breeches on. At least I left mine in case they get out.
He cleared his throat loudly. "Tired, my lady?" He looked down to her pretty face.
She nodded.
The Elder Brother stood up. "Lady Sansa, please let me show you to your hut. It is as I said before - simple, but you will find a straw pallet and warmth there. I am sure you will feel reassured with your two shields at your door as you sleep," he said kindly.
Sandor put his hand on Sansa's shoulder and bent low to whisper in her ear. "You go with them. You've got your dagger. If you feel danger just scream and I will be right there. I have to get Elder Brother to look at those pretty stitches you gave me and then I'll be right along." He squeezed her shoulder as she looked slightly panicked. "Don't worry, little bird. Lannister won't break his vow to you."
He noticed her swallow hard and then she gave him a nod. "Don't be long," she whispered back.
Sandor walked up to Sansa's small hut. He felt better now that he had washed up and shaved and had the Elder Brother tend his chest wound. He smiled slightly when the Elder Brother complemented the little bird's stitching.
Stopping in front of the door, he glared at the blond pair that was sitting on a bench beside the hut, and scowled as he noticed a slightly star struck look in the woman's eyes like she was entranced by Jaime Lannister's mere presence. "You can go now, both of you. I'll stay and watch the rest of the night. Looks like you might have your hand full anyway, with this maid," he muttered at them.
Brienne stood up quickly. "You will not stand here alone with Lady Sansa, one of us will remain," she exclaimed, her bruised chin jutting out. "It is not proper for her to be alone with a man such as yourself."
Sandor just smirked. "You might want to grab a handful of snow and rest your chin in it awhile. Lady Stark will be fine with me. She made it here in one piece, didn't she?"
"It's highly improper, a... a man such as him to stand guard over her, Jaime. Her mother would not like it one bit," she muttered.
Jamie stood up. "Come on, Brienne, she'll be fine. Clegane knows his job here." He pulled Brienne's arm and tugged her down the path towards the stables. He looked over his shoulder at Sandor. "Tomorrow we will see about a ship. Don't worry Clegane," he said with a toothy grin, "we'll get your little bird somewhere safe."
Sandor glared at their retreating backs. He was still hesitant with the golden boy's oath to Sansa and same with the 'Maid of Tarth.' Maid, she could snap the Kingslayer in a flip of her wrist. At least she looks like she could put up a good fight and hold her own.
He then turned to the door, looking regretfully at the bench beside the entrance and thought how nice it would be to lay beside Sansa. Those nights are gone now, you fool. She has been through enough tonight. Just peek in and then let her rest. He rapped twice on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again, a bit harder.
"Go away," he heard a tiny voice say.
"Sansa, let me in," he said as gently as he could muster, though he felt impatience behind his words. It was quiet for a moment and he was almost sure she would not let him in, when he heard the slide of the bolt. Sansa opened the door, tears staining her face. Crying again. He stepped inside bowing low under the small door and turned around to face her. He stood hunched over as she closed the door and bolted it. With her back towards him, he saw that she had unbound her hair, cascades of brown waves down to her waist. I miss the auburn. Soon hopefully she can quit this mummer's farce.
He took a step forward, reached out and softly ran his fingertips down the length of her hair. A maid, after all this time. Sansa stiffened and he quickly recoiled, stepping back and gripping the hilt of his sword as she turned towards him. She looked at him curiously and wiped the tears from her face. Sandor noticed the dagger she held her in her hand.
"You don't need to worry, little bird. I'll be watching from right outside your door tonight. No one will enter, else they go through me and no man will survive the attempt."
Sansa smiled sadly at him and shook her head. "It's not my safety I am worried about," she said quietly. "You will think I am being petty and stupid." She wrung her hands together and moved to stand next to the small brazier that was in the middle of the room. Sandor could see the red hot coals there and watched the smoke curl up toward the hole in the roof. "Lady Brienne suggested I should cut my hair, and I have been sitting here all this while trying to gather the courage up to do it, but I can't."
Fucking hair, is what this has come to. He turned his eyes down and rested them on Sansa's back as she turned and looked over her shoulder at him. He walked over to stand by her, ignoring the crackling coals, and stretched his hands over them to warm up.
"My mother, she used to brush my hair every evening. It was my favourite time with her. Just the two of us," she said wistfully. "I miss her so much, Sandor. I hate the Lannisters and Freys for what they've done to her and Robb. Now she is... someone else." She suddenly turned towards him gripping his cloak tightly. "Do not leave me. Please don't leave me again," she cried fearfully.
Sandor gripped her arms, though not tightly. "I told you I won't leave you. Wherever you want to go, we'll go. Bugger it all. If you want to leave now let's go. I don't know where, but... listen Sansa, if Lannister can get us on a ship and we can get out of here, the better off you'll be. If needs be, once we are somewhere else we will lose the Kingslayer and his wench."
"Do you trust him?"
Sandor sighed tiredly. "I told you, there is no one you should trust little bird, it's safer that way."
Sansa sniffed. "But... shouldn't I trust you? I... I do trust you. Is that wrong?"
He knew she could trust him, enough to know that he wouldn't let anyone touch her or hurt her again, but how long could he keep himself from hurting or touching her?
He cleared his throat. "I won't let anyone hurt you, believe that, little bird. You can rest easy."
Sansa let go of his cloak and stared at the dagger in her hands. "Lady Brienne said I should cut my hair and then dress as a silent sister. She said it would be a good disguise." Sandor frowned as she choked back a sob. "I can't Sandor, I can't do it," she sputtered.
Damn it all.
Sandor grabbed the dagger out of her hand and moved to cut a chunk of his lank hair. Sansa gasped. He sneered down at her horrified face.
"See this ugly face?" He lifted his hair off his scars. I'll just make it worse. No one will even notice your pretty little face when they see this. It's nothing but hair, little bird," he muttered hoarsely. "I've been hiding behind it for too long anyway."
He attempted to cut it again, but Sansa grabbed his arm.
"No!" she cried.
No?
"Enough, little bird, let me do this. You'll not have to cut yours. Just throw the bloody veil over your face and keep your head low. They'll be too busy looking at this," he rasped, his voice sharp as he pointed his middle finger towards his burns, no longer hidden.
"Please, you don't have to do this for me. I know you brush your hair over to cover your scars. I understand…"
Sandor threw the dagger on the floor and glared down at her. His hair fell across the side of his ruined face shielding his burns.
"You understand?" He said in a sudden low menacing tone stepping closer to her. "Understand? Your brother ever shove your face in some hot coals?"
Shut up you bloody dog. He couldn't.
"No, you don't understand and don't bother trying. You looking at me now, that's a nice little change. You don't think I see you looking at me? I see you, little bird. Only you're not so little anymore. I even feel you, at night wiggling against me like your maiden cunt's in heat. It's fucking torture. I'll never be your pretty Knight of Flowers," he snarled bitterly.
There. Now you've done it. Might as well hand her over to the fucking Kingslayer and then go slit my throat.
Instantly, shame and guilt washed over him as he looked at Sansa's eyes, glistening with tears, and noticed to his horror that he had her pushed against the stone wall with his chest. Looming over her with his arms braced above her head, he turned his head to the side and rested his chin on his arm. He clenched his jaw tightly and squeezed his eyes tightly closed.
You're going to cry in front of her again you fool. Scare her to death and then cry. You don't deserve to have her even look at you.
He drew a deep breath. His eyes still squeezed shut he could feel hot tears escaping. "Little bird... I'm sorry," he whispered. "You don't deserve this." He let his arms fall to his side and started to move away. A tight grip on his arm stopped him.
"You look at me," he heard her demand in a whisper. She tugged on his arm harder and then grabbed his chin, digging her nails into the skin. "You look at me," she repeated herself through clenched teeth.
Sandor looked down at her. Fuck, she is so beautiful and I ruined it. I ruined everything…
"You listen to me, and listen well, Sandor Clegane," she said with such ferocity that it sent a shiver down his spine.
"I may not understand what it's like to have my face destroyed, but I do have scars of my own. No, my brothers never hurt me. Not once. But neither did they come for me. No one came for me. I was beaten and humiliated and alone. I watched my father die, Arya was lost, my mother and Robb were murdered, so were my younger brothers."
Sansa clenched her jaw and closed her eyes tightly before looking up at him once again. "I have been lied to so often that I don't even know what truth might be. So I've lied to myself, created a story about you in my head. I thought you were brave and strong, you never lied to me and I wished I had left with you that night as frightening as you were, I never thought that you would hurt me. I wondered what had happened to you at times and I always sent a prayer to the mother for you, to watch over you. And then you did come along. Was I wrong? Was it not after you held my dagger to your throat that you said that by my hand you would accept the fate of the seven hells? I don't have those scars across my face Sandor, but like you, I have them right here." She placed the flat of her palm across his heart, releasing his chin. "Like yours, mine is broken, so that Sandor Clegane, I understand."
He looked down at her hand on his chest and then back to her face. He noticed her breathing quickly making her chest rise and fall quickly.
She's so beautiful, he thought again. I need her so much.
Sandor backed her against the wall once more. This time when he rested the palms of his hands to the wall and leaned over her, he was not yelling and though he could feel her trembling he was certain it was not from fear. He closed his eyes and leaned his head down, running his nose gently along the side of her head, breathing deeply. "I'm sorry Sansa," he whispered.
He felt her shiver. "I know."
He slowly opened his eyes when he felt Sansa's hand on his cheek. Something stirred in his chest, a flutter of sorts at the sight of her face as she looked up at him, her eyes glistening in the glow of the lamplight. With his heart pounding, Sandor slid his hand down along her arm as she clutched at his tunic. He leaned down, slightly tilting his head to the side, and quickly brushed his lips against hers. Though hers were soft, he could feel the slight rough chap the cold had given them.
He heard her sigh softly and he pulled away slightly to look upon her face. She had a confused look across her face and suddenly he felt at a loss. Of course she is confused. You yell at her then try and kiss her. Fool! Like she would want you to touch her let alone kiss her.
"It didn't happen." He heard her whisper and watched her touch her lips with a finger.
"I'm sorry, little bird," he said gruffly trying to ignore the lump in his throat. "That's right, pretend it didn't happen. I'll go stand guard now, let you sleep."
He stepped away and went to unbar the door. He was stopped by the tug at his sleeve. Sansa put her hand on the middle of his back.
"I thought it was real," she said softly. "I dreamt all this time... that you kissed me that night."
Kissed her?
She pulled him around and grabbed both his arms, staring up at him. "But you never did... did you?" She asked as though she was talking to herself.
Sandor looked down, a frown crossed his face as she looked expectantly up at him. She wants a kiss?
He cleared his throat awkwardly and reached down to pull her closer to him. "You would want me to kiss you?" He whispered, hesitantly, not sure what he should do. She nodded slightly. He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. He pulled her tighter against him as she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Slowly he brushed his lips against hers again and when he flicked his tongue gently over her bottom lip, he felt hers softly touch his lip and her mouth opened to his.
Everything seemed to stop around him and slowly he deepened the kiss until he had one hand tangled in her hair, angling her head so he could taste her stronger. His other hand held her firmly against him. This, this is what I have craved. He felt her hands grasping at him, clutching at his arms, then fingers softly caressing over his face. Sandor reluctantly pulled back, breathing heavily.
He looked down at her and saw her face was flushed. Why does she keep petting at me? He grasped her hands gently in his and swallowed hard as he looked upon her face, catching her breath, a smile slowly emerging. She looks so happy. I don't know what to do with this. Sandor cleared his throat gruffly and gently let her hands go before stepping back. "Best if I go now, little bird," he rasped quietly as he headed toward the door. "Need to keep watch."
"Sandor, please.." she said.
"No, little bird," he interrupted quickly. "Good night. This should never had happened. I'm sorry." He opened the door and closed it firmly behind him.
Never should have done this. A little taste is not enough, I want all of her. Everything.
