Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn quietly entered the stables as Sandor was loading the last of their daughter's things onto a small cart. For several long moments the couple stared at their daughters, neither of them willing to speak and break the stillness of the livery.

"Come on, boy, help me with these horses," Sandor finally muttered to Gendry as he glanced between Sansa and Lady Catelyn. "Let's leave them to it."

Gendry nodded curtly as he closely eyed Arya, the two men then disappearing into the stalls and leaving Arya and Sansa alone with their parents.

"Mother, Father-I so wish we could stay together," Sansa began to cry as soon as Sandor was out of sight. "It has been so long since the family has been in one place. Must we go?"

"Maybe you could come with us after you treat with Stannis," Arya offered sadly, though Sansa knew by the tone of her sister's voice that she knew the only safe alternative was to separate for their family. "We know you needs support Robb and smooth the way with Stannis for him."

Catelyn stepped forward and cupped Arya's chin in her hand. "He is King Stannis to you. Remember my house words, the both of you."

"Family, duty, honor," Sansa repeated softly, sniffling as she did so. "We remember them well, Mother."

"We all must do our duty for the family, and we will be together very soon," Catelyn forced a smile. "It won't be very long until you and Robb and Sansa and Bran and Rickon will all be together again."

"And Jon too?" Arya asked excitedly.

Sansa watched her parents exchange a terse glance. "Yes, Jon too." Ned added with a taut smile. "But for now we must part."

"Aw, Sansa, we're gonna miss the baby being born and everything." Arya's shoulders slumped forward while her sister wept harder still.

"I know, Arya, but we must do our part." Sansa snuffled. Sandor stepped out, wiped her face and then handed her a handkerchief before resuming his preparations.

Catelyn and Ned put their arms around each of the girls, forming a small circular embrace. "You two stick together and do as Sandor says," he tapped his finger on Arya's nose. "He has my orders so I want you to obey him as though I were giving them, understand? And make Gendry part of the family."

"Your orders?" Arya tilted her head, ignoring the comment about Gendry. "You gave Sandor orders? What do you mean, Father?"

"He's to take you to a very special place in the Vale."

Arya chewed her lip. "Are we going to see Aunt Lysa? Sandor wouldn't tell me the last time I asked."

"No. Now I want you to go along with it and stay there until I call for you. Swear it, the both of you."

"Certainly, Father," Sansa sniffed and wiped her eyes. "We will do our duty for the family."

"I swear it too," Arya chewed her lip anxiously. "I'll look after Gendry and make sure Sansa and Sandor's wounds stay clean, too-I'll tend them both proper. But what of the Mountain clans?"

"You'll be safe there." Ned squeezed her hand. "You need not fear the clans, lassie."

"I'm not scared of them!" Arya insisted. "I just wanna make sure I'm prepared is all."

At her words, Sandor snorted from the farthest stall in the barn, causing Ned to laugh softly.

"Well it's true!" Arya folded her arms.

"Gendry will keep your weapons ready. The clansmen will give you no trouble, and they will respect Clegane once they see his burns. You must trust your mother and me and have faith in Clegane."

Her eyes searched out her fearsome husband. Sansa marveled at the notable change in her father's attitude toward Sandor in a relatively short period of time; but, ever the lady, she kept her thoughts to herself.

"We do, Father." Arya murmured quietly, her eyes fixed on the ground while she drew circles in the dirt with the toe of her shoe.

"Good. Come now, the both of you, I want to see smiles," Catelyn looked between her daughters. "I am certain you will like the place you are going." Grudgingly each of them complied with tight grins, even though Sansa felt as though her heart would break from the weight of her grief and she was certain Arya felt the same.

Seemingly sensing his eldest daughter's distress, Lord Eddard added: "It won't be long now. We'll join our armies with Stannis Baratheon and soon this madness will be over. The gods are with us and will keep us safe until we can be together again. You'll see."

Sansa and Arya cast furtive glances at each other but both girls nodded obediently. Pleased by their obedience, Lady Catelyn kissed them on each cheek.

"Family, duty, honor," she repeated before she hastily left the barn.

"You must stay together, help each other, for winter is coming." Lord Eddard pulled them both into a tight embrace before following his wife's suit.

Sandor slowly made his way toward Sansa as Edward stared at them one last time. Tipping his head toward Eddard, he rasped low: "Any other instructions, my lord?"

"No, I have already made my instructions clear, Clegane." Ned patted Stranger's flank.

"Aye, Lord Eddard."

"Now away with all of you."

"Sansa, we have to go now, lass." Sandor rasped softly, steering her by the waist toward Stranger. Reluctantly she tore her eyes away from the vanishing forms of her parents. "I know you want to visit longer but we must take our leave."

Sadly, Sansa patted his cheek. "I know, husband. Let us go."

"You too, Arya. You ride with Gendry just like before, and no horseplay this time, you here?"

Arya shot him a look, causing him to smirk at her knowingly. Rolling her eyes, she then took the reins. "You just worry about your wound and I'll take care of me and Gendry, okay?"

"Do as I say or I'll tan your hide." After glaring at the young girl until she gave her acquiescence, Sandor then carefully lifted Sansa into the saddle and climbed up behind her.

Arya easily assumed her place in front of Gendry and then proceeded to debate with him over who should hold the reins.

"Enough!" Sandor snarled as he settled behind his wife. "Gendry, take the reins. Arya, shut the fuck up and do as I say, will you? We're leaving now."


Numbness settled over Sansa as they made their way through the winding switchbacks of the Riverlands. They had been on the run for so long that by the time they reached Riverrun the young woman had convinced herself that she had grown accustomed to the rough travel; yet after only a few days spent in the castle, she was unwilling to leave her comfortable bed for another road trip.

Sandor, for his part, said very little during the journey, though he rubbed soothing circles over her belly as they travelled. Her silence seemed to worry him, for she could feel the tension in his arms and stomach as she leaned into him. Occasionally Sansa would force herself to attempt conversation by claiming she had seen a deer in the wood just to appease him.

Without fail, Arya would frown and shake her head at Sansa's absurdity. "There's no more deer in these woods, stupid! All the soldiers ate them. You're seeing things."

Paltry though they were, her efforts did not fool Sandor, but instead of railing at her as he once would have, the man seemed to understand that Sansa was merely making an effort. After every claim, he would whisper in her ear: "Your eyes are as keen as they are pretty, wife. Might be I'll find you some venison for dinner one night soon." And just as Sansa's claims of seeing an animal were merely wind, the venison dinner also never materialized.

Sandor never complained about his wound, and soon the ferocious warrior returned to swinging his sword every morning with Gendry. Arya often fretted to Sandor that Sansa's unusual taciturnity meant she was getting infection in her hand, and so she insisted on tending her wound every time they stopped. Sandor insisted and so Sansa allowed it, for she rarely got to see the nurturing side of her little sister and she appreciated it.

Despite her melancholy, the feel of Sandor's lips caressing the shell of her ear as he spoke to her brought a pleasurable shiver through her body. Never had Sansa dreamed she would be the recipient of such gentle words and tender touches from the Hound, and yet the longer they were together, the more frequent such intimacies became. Admittedly Sandor made sure that Sansa was the only person to witness them but they pleased Sansa just the same, and she enjoyed the private exchanges between them.

Each morning and evening she prayed silently that the gods would grant them safe passage and that they would help her parents and brothers as well. After two weeks of rough but uneventful travel, the foursome finally made their way into the foothills of the Vale.

"It's bloody cold up there," Sandor grumbled as he removed several warm furs from the pack. "You two wrap up tight in those furs and put on the wool stockings and shifts your mother packed for you."

Hastily Sansa and Arya disappeared behind a tree to change their clothing.

"How much longer, Clegane?" Gendry blew into his chilled hands. "Seems like the weather worsens with each passing step."

Grunting, Sandor shrugged. "We've been lucky. It'll only be another sennight until we're there, if the weather stays clear. Keep your sword oiled and your eyes sharp for any signs of the Mountain clans."

Confused, Gendry asked, "But what of Lord Eddard's words? He said there would be no problem with them."

"Yeah and he also thought he could trust Robert," Sandor shook his head. "Bugger that. I've stayed alive because I stay alert. You'd be wise to do the same."

Gravely Gendry nodded.

Afterward the group made their way deep into the Mountains of the Moon on the high road from the inn at the Crossroads. At times the craggy passages narrowed and steepened to the point that Gendry and Sandor had to lead the horses on foot.

"Are you sure you know where you're going, Hound?" Arya irritably grumbled while staring at the tall snowcapped mountains surrounding them.

"Aye, your father gave me a map." Sandor squinted against the howling wind. "Not much further now. Keep your eyes in front of you."

"This doesn't seem like a place Father would take us to," she sniffed, steering the animals away from the precipice just to the right of the trail. "Kinda dangerous and isolated." Arya looked to Sansa. "Is that the way it looks on the map, you guys?"

Gendry pushed onward. "I've not seen this map, Arya. Just do as Clegane says, will you?"

Ignoring him, Arya pressed on. "Sansa, what about it? Is that what it looks like on the map? Gendry hasn't seen it."

"Nor I, but please, we must trust Sandor as Father bade us," Sansa weakly answered. She, too, was very curious about their intended destination but the young woman knew full well that if Arya heard the least bit discomfiture out of her sister, outright rebellion would soon follow.

Just before the summit of the fractured glacial horn, the mountain trail turned inland leading to a very heavily wooded pine forest. As the weary group came around the corner, they saw that built into the outcropping was a small log and stone keep.

"There it is, just as Stark said," Sandor smiled up at Sansa and sighed deeply. "Your very own keep, Sansa. This will be home for a bit."

"My keep?" She replied incredulously. "What do you mean?"

"Jon Arryn gave the lands to your parents as a wedded present. Your father had the keep built for you when you were just a wee lass."

Agape, Sansa and Arya stared at the imposing structure.

"Why did Father have a keep built for Sansa?" Arya pouted slightly.

"Because of what happened with your Aunt Lyanna. Do you know what happened with Rhaegar?"

Both young women nodded in unison.

His mood suddenly darkened. "She was said to be like you, Arya, hellfire in a skirt and all. She was kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen and died before your father got to her. Well, when Sansa was born, Ned determined that the Stark women would have a place of respite, a place no one else knew about to hide, a keep of your very own." Turning to Sansa, Sandor added low, "You needed that keep long ago, lass, believe that, and now you both have a place to hide."

"True enough," Sansa bit her lip. "But if my Aunt Lysa knows of the place then so will Lord Baelish."

"Oh, shit, Littlefinger! Remember how he told you the story of Sandor's burns at the Hand's tourney?" She pointed at Sansa. "Your eyes were as round as a pair of silver stags. I fucking hate that guy!" Arya spat on the ground.

"Arya, please watch your language." Sansa glanced sideways at Sandor, whose face twisted into a dark rage as he stared at her. In fact, the last time Sansa saw that look was when Joffrey had her beaten, and not long after he killed Meryn Trant with his bare hands. Trembling slightly, she tried to remain calm. "Mother won't like it if you return to her swearing like Sandor."

"Okay, Sissy." Arya grudgingly muttered.

"He told you how I was burned?" Sandor roared at Arya, though his eyes never left Sansa.

"Yep." She answered calmly, the girl seemingly nonplussed by his outburst. "How Gregor held your face in the fire for playing with his toy. I kept looking around for Father to notice what a creeper he was being, but he was talking to the king. Afterward Littlefinger said you would kill us if you ever found out we knew. I should have fucking punched that guy."

Sandor clenched his jaw so hard that Sansa noticed a vein began protruding at his temple. Leaning down, she took his hand carefully. "Let us not speak of him anymore." Jumping at her touch, Sandor seemed startled out of his rage by her affectionate gesture and so he squeezed her hand gently in return.

She could not help wonder what Sandor would do if Littlefinger showed up but she knew now was not the time to ask.

Seemingly reading her thoughts, Sandor rasped low: "Sansa, your Aunt Lysa doesn't know about this place. Your father and Jon Arryn kept it from her. So you best believe Littlefucker doesn't know about it. If he shows up here, I'll flay him like one of those fucking Boltons."

Nervously Gendry glanced between Sandor and Arya.

"Littlefucker, that's a good one," Arya giggled, the young girl seemingly unaffected by Sandor's rough threat. "But, like, how is it even possible that not one person would tell her?"

Gendry reached up and patted her arm. "Enough. Let him be, will you?"

"Your Aunt is touched, Arya," Sandor answered quietly. "Didn't anyone in your family tell you and Sansa?"

Arya and Sansa glanced at each other and shook their heads. "No."

"Aye, and she has a tendency to have epic emotional spells so yeah, no one told her." Sandor sneered. "The people in King's Landing made sure she knew very little and they do the same in the Vale. Bloody hells, everyone in the Red Keep knew it. I can't believe they kept it a secret from you."

"We were never around her, and people said very little about my father after he was accused of treason." Sansa offered. "Come now, this conversation can wait. Let us go inside and get out of this frightful weather." Turning to Sandor, she deftly changed the subject: "The place is very unassuming; it seems to blend right into the landscape. Are there any servants?"

"No, lass, and not many needed here. Just a married couple from House Umber, their two sons and two daughters as well as the maester, all sworn to House Stark. The keep is very small and surrounded by mountain streams on two sides, a great precipice at the other and a gate at the entrance. Your father had his kennelmaster breed wolf hounds to guard the premises. No one will come in to us unannounced, believe that."

"Doesn't matter, Sansa, we can do our own chores, and I'm glad we have dogs!" Arya swung off the horse and hurried toward the entrance of the gate. After banging on the knocker several times, the small portcullis screeched open. A tall man with a square jaw met them at the entrance of the keep.

"I am Elder brother from the Quiet Isle," he bowed low before Sansa and Arya. "We received a raven a fortnight ago from Riverrun announcing your arrival."

"I don't know you," Arya eyed him while she fingered Needle's hilt. "What house are you from?"

"The tradition of the Seven forbids me from revealing my name from my former life. However, my lady, I will tell you this: I was recommended to your father by Ser Oswell Whent. Lord Stark brought me here as maester."

"How long have you served here?" Sandor demanded.

"Seven years."

Sansa saw her husband's demeanor relax at the holy man's response. Quickly his eyes then fell on Sansa's hand. "Come, my lady, let me tend your wounds at once."