"Get away from the bloody door!" Sandor snarled as he expertly unlaced Sansa's simple gown. The harshness of his tone stood in stark contrast to the gentleness with which he eased the delicate garments off of her body, causing Sansa to giggle nervously at his touch.

Wriggling her arms out of her gown, she tossed the frock toward the foot of the bed. Her cheeks and neck were flushed a charming shade of pink, and her nipples hardened in the coolness of the room, the sight sending a hot wave of lust through Sandor as he knelt before her.

"My lord, I do believe you will want to see this now-" Elder Brother called through the door. "You must come at once."

"And come you shall." Sansa nibbled on his ear and then reached to unlace his leather breeches. The sound of such uncharacteristically naughty words spoken from her perfect ladylike mouth almost caused Sandor to spill his seed then and there.

"As will you," he growled against her breast, resting his face there while she finished untying his lacings. Hurriedly he kicked them off and settled her back on the bed.

"My lord, please-"

"Whatever it is can hold for a bit." Sandor groaned as her fingers brushed against his hardened manhood, the sight of his aroused state drawing a sharp gasp from his wife.

Grasping him, Sansa smoothed the wetness of his desire over the head and began to move her hands over his shaft in long, even strokes. Hastily Sandor climbed under the sheets next to Sansa, who wiggled over to make room for him.

Trapping her beneath him, Sandor descended upon her hungrily, greedily suckling her full breasts, which heaved with excitement. Caressing her face so she would meet his gaze, Sandor saw that Sansa's eyes shone bright with desire for him. She wrapped her arms around him and Sandor eagerly clung to her. Gently he took her breast in his hand and brushed her nipple with his thumb, the man willing himself to gain control of his passions lest he get too carried away.

Moaning softly, she arched her back to him. "Please, I'm ready…" she gasped out.

Blood rushed from every part of his body to his loins so quickly that Sandor felt lightheaded. Pushing her knees up to her shoulders, he then used his other hand to position himself at her entrance.

"Hmm, you're so wet for me," Sandor moaned appreciatively in her ear after drawing the head of his manhood over the length of her slit. "You liked watching me fight, didn't you?"

"Oh, Sandor, yes," she arched her back to meet him, trying to draw him back to her. "Watching you fight was so very…exciting. Make haste, I beg you."

"If bringing you to the training yard gets you this hot and wet and begging for my cock, I'll just have to have you accompany me every day." Sandor said before taking her nipple into his mouth and thrusting into her velvet heat.

"Yes, please-" Sansa moaned out as she smoothed her hands down his back and over his buttocks, pressing him there and fully sheathing his manhood inside her.

"Oh fuck, you feel good!" He arched his back and hissed through gritted teeth. Sansa ran her tongue along his pulse point, drawing a low moan from him.

"My lord, you and Lady Sansa must come at once.-" Elder brother's voice came through the door.

Beneath him Sansa giggled as she suckled on his neck. She then wrapped her legs around his waist and grasped his shoulders for purchase. Her little nails dug into his skin, but he could not be made to care, so carried away was Sandor.

"Get the fuck away from that bloody door, holy man." He began thrusting into Sansa hard and fast. She gasped each time he filled her and clenched her woman's place tightly against him.

"We'll be out in a minute." Sansa called out, her voice quivering as she did so.

Beneath him, he felt her body began to shake and her womanhood tighten around his shaft, her peak upon her. Gasping, she dug her fingers into his buttocks, pulling him deeper still, her hips rocking violently against his thrusts.

"Very good, my lady." Elder brother cleared his throat. Sandor could faintly hear the man's footsteps retreating.

With a loud cry, he sat up and drew Sansa onto his lap, all the while heatedly carrying their rhythm himself, gripping her hips and thrusting into her as she cried out long and low, deeply arching her hips to match his movements.

"Gods, Sandor!" Sansa shouted out as every muscle in her body tensed. The waves of pleasure rolled through her carried through to him. Tightening his embrace, Sandor forcefully rocked forward, his ecstatic shout muffled against Sansa's neck.

They collapsed, out of breath, and she laid her head on his chest, the young woman cradled in his arms. Sandor kissed her several times before stretching out, their legs tangling together as their breathing eventually slowed.

"I will watch you every day." Sansa placed a hand on his chest. "Especially if this is what I have to look forward to later."

Sandor barked out a abrasive laugh. "Aye, you should, for I will gladly perform this duty for you, my lady." He sighed deeply and stroked her cheek. "Well, I guess it is time to go see what is in that scroll."

It was Sansa's turn to sigh then. "Yes, I suppose we should."

After they dressed, Sansa and Sandor made their way to the solar, quietly walking arm in arm.

Arya darted out of the alcove with Gendry in hot pursuit, startling the couple.

"Arya, come here at once," Sansa called to her. "A raven came. We needs see what it is about."

Frowning, she abruptly stopped, as did Gendry. "A raven? From who?"

"Whom," Elder brother gently corrected as he appeared at the door, the man waving Arya and Gendry inside. "Come and sit, all of you."

Sansa felt Sandor's muscles in his forearm tighten. "What is this about, holy man?"

"Here," the Elder Brother passed the scroll to Sansa. "It is from Stannis Baratheon, my lady."

Pausing, Sansa began to open it, then stopped abruptly. "It is my lord husband's place to open it." She gave it to Sandor with a shaky hand. "Forgive me, Sandor. Would you be so kind as to read it for us?"

Raising his brow, Sandor unrolled the parchment carefully and then began reading aloud:

Lord Clegane,

I am writing to inform you that Theon Greyjoy has taken Winterfell with the help of his sister Asha and her men. It is said they killed Brandon and Rickon Stark, though reports vary greatly as to whether the boys Theon Greyjoy killed are truly Lord Stark's younger sons. A wilding woman escaped, one who Lord Eddard spared in the past, and it is believed she has the boys with her along with Howland Reed's children.

Lord Eddard, Robb and our combined forces will be making for Moat Cailin to block the Ironborn's approach with the help of the Crannogmen. Our goal is to rally the north, stop the advancement of the Ironborn and take Winterfell by any means necessary.

There has also been a great wilding uprising that also commands my attention at the wall. I cannot say when we will be able to reunite the Stark family but rest assured we will not send for your wife and goodsister until all is secured.

Lady Catelyn will be staying with Queen Selyse and Princess Shireen at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, should you need to contact them. I am entrusting you to relay this information to Lady Sansa and Lady Arya. We will contact you with more information as it becomes available.

There are rumors the Targaryen girl is moving toward Westeros with her young dragons. You must stay where you are, come what may, for if Lord Eddard and his sons fall, the girls are the heirs of Winterfell and the key to securing the support of the northern lords.

As you are a man of battle, I know this might be difficult; however, as your lawful king, I trust you, Lord Clegane, to carry out my orders.

By the time Sandor finished reading, Sansa and Arya were crying and clinging to one another. Kneeling down, he took both women into his arms, one on each knee, and tightly embraced them.

"Better have your cry out," he rasped quietly. "Get it out and be done with it, both of you."

Gendry and Elder Brother shifted uncomfortably in their seats, waiting for the women to compose themselves. After some time had passed the Elder Brother made the sign of the seven pointed star over them and said a prayer.

"I just cannot believe it," Sansa finally sobbed out. "Theon, how could he?"

"He's not a natural born Stark, you know." Sandor shrugged. "Raised as your brother but not of your blood. He's Ironborn, a race of pirates and thieves."

"But Father gave him a genteel upbringing-"

"His efforts were wasted, lass," Sandor shook his head. "You can dress an ironman in furs and finery, teach him to read and write and give him books, instruct him in chivalry and courtesy and the mysteries of the old gods, but when you look into his eyes, the violence of the sea will still be there."

Reaching up to touch Sandor's face, Sansa's face filled with recognition, and slowly she nodded understandingly. "Father kept Theon from returning to his family, just we were held by Cersei, Arya. We did not change for it-at least not for the good, and neither did Theon."

"Your father treated him well, aye, but he was a captive, just the same." Sandor took her hand in his. "He was biding his time, him and that bitch of a sister he has. If I ever see either of them, you best believe I'll gut them both."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Arya cried out angrily. "He was like a brother to us! Father didn't mistreat him like Cersei and Joff did us."

Gendry gently said: "That isn't what Lord Clegane means, and you know it. Think on it a minute."

"But Father said he pledged himself to Robb when he was made king," she tearfully sputtered out. "Theon just couldn't have killed Bran and the baby!"

"I do know what I'm talking about, gods be damned!" Sandor slammed his fist on the table. "My own brother did this," he pointed to his scarred face. "If my own flesh and blood could do this to me, why do you suppose the Greyjoy brat is capable of any different? Damned Ironborn bastard! He'll bleed for his treachery."

Nymeria began scratching and howling at the door. "The beast is responding to your suffering," Elder Brother rose and opened the door. "She needs comfort too."

The huge animal forced her way inside, nearly knocking over Elder Brother in the process. Arya ran to her and buried her face in the direwolf's luxuriant fur, while Sansa sobbed into Sandor's tunic.

Elder Brother mixed several tonics together in a glass beaker and then evenly distributed the concoction into two goblets of Arbor Gold.

"Here, my ladies, drink this." He gave one to Sansa and one to Arya. "It will settle your nerves and help you rest."

"Wait Little bird," Sandor took the cup from Sansa and sniffed it suspiciously. "What is in it?"

"A little milk of the poppy and chamomile."

Blankly Sansa stared at the goblet as though she didn't know what to do with it.

"Go on, then," he brought the cup to Sansa's lips and gently gave her a drink. "You too, wolf girl. It'll blunt the pain."

"There is more news, I'm afraid," Elder Brother placed another scroll in Sandor's hand. "My lord, this demands your attention as well."

Swearing under his breath, Sandor read through the message several times and then tossed in the maester's fireplace.

"What is it?" Sansa worriedly watched his face.

"Littlefinger. Seems he's looking for you two." Sandor angrily glared into the fire. "He's with your Aunt Lysa in the Eyrie, you know. They are married a moon hence. Claims he wants to help you because of some long held affection for your mother. Bloody lies, that. He wants you for his own."

Sansa and Arya exchanged worried glances.

"He wants to fuck you, Sansa."

"How do you know that?" Arya blurted out.

"The man wasn't exactly subtle in the Red Keep."

"Sandor, this is terrible," Sansa wrung her hands. "First Cersei and now him." She shivered involuntarily, the gesture at once infuriating the man.

"He does not know of this place, nor does he know where you are," Sandor went on, staring into her eyes as he spoke. "But he has put a bounty on each of you in addition to what is already on our heads."

"Howland Reed has put a glamour over the keep," Elder Brother quietly added. "He did so from the moment he heard that Winterfell was taken."

"How do you know that?" Sansa stared at the holy man.

"I saw it in a dream," Elder Brother answered. "It is how we communicate."

Arya's mouth hung open.

"No one will find this place without his assistance. Just the same, you must all stay within the confines of the Wolf's Den." Elder Brother went on.

Sansa slowly rose and held out her hand to Arya. "Our younger brothers are presumed dead. Our elders are at war. Our home has been captured by a traitor. We are Starks, the blood of Winterfell. We cannot be bothered with Petyr Baelish just now."

"He won't be deterred easily lass, believe that." Sandor searched her face, at once beautiful, determined and solemn and very much like her lord father. It alarmed him that Sansa was either blind or refusing to acknowledge the danger the mockingbird presented, but as distressed as she was, Sandor decided it best to let her be for a bit.

"Let him look." Sansa sniffed. "He is nothing to us. I do not care what feelings he held for mother. I do not trust him."

"Me neither." Arya agreed. "Hound, you should kill him."

Readily he assented.

"No, you must stay hidden here with us." Pleadingly Sansa took his hand and held it to her cheek. "Promise me."

"I promise, but he won't give up the search, wife." Sandor warned again, anger seeping into his tone.

"I do not care what he does! Let him search high and low for all I care!" Her eyes flashed angrily. "He will find nothing, just as the Lannisters have found nothing. If he comes here, he will die." Sansa looked at Sandor. "You have made this place secure. I trust you will handle him, should the time come."

"I will do so gladly." Sandor drew his sword and placed it in front of her.

Stunned, Sansa stared at him.

"Go on then," he grinned. "You know you've always wanted to do it."

Smiling, Sansa placed her hand on the pommel. "Sandor, this isn't-"

"Yes, it is." He stared at her intensely until she submitted. "I swear it on our marriage that I will keep you safe." Sandor snarled low, kneeling in front of her in the same manner he affected with King Robert on the day of the Hand's tourney. "No one will threaten you or your sister, no one, and live to see another day. I will keep your father's commands. I will obey Stannis for you and your sister's sake. And if anyone comes here without your consent, I'll kill them."

Primly Sansa smoothed her skirts and set her countenance to one of calm intention, though her eyes sparkled with tears. "You must never bow to me, husband." She knelt in front of him and took his hands in her own. "I love you. I trust you. You will keep me and Arya safe, just as you always have."

Arya nodded in agreement. "Me, too, Hound. Not the love part, but you know."

His mouth twitched into a grin.

"Father had the foresight to make this place for us and we will stay inside safe and sound, just as he and Mother intended us to do." Sansa turned toward her sister. "Won't we?"

"We will stay inside just as Sissy said, I promise. I won't run around or get into any trouble. We need to stay safe, just like Father wants us to." Arya added. "Come, Sansa, I'm sleepy now." She yawned, as did Nymeria. "Let us rest for a bit."

Sandor stood as the women quietly exited the solar.

"Do whatever you have to do, holy man." Sandor rasped low, his voice low and mean. "You petition your gods for their safety."

"I always do, my lord." Elder Brother bowed.

Curtly Sandor nodded. "So you holy men say. But I mean my words."

"Forgive me, my lord, but I thought you don't believe in the gods." Elder Brother calmly stated. "Have you changed, perhaps developed a faith of sorts?"

Sandor harshly laughed in his face. "I gave up on them the day the High Septon anointed my brother. I believe in my sword and my word. And I believe in my wife."

Fury rolled through the man as he spoke. He had taken her from King's Landing, risked everything to return her to her family, and now bloody Petyr Baelish wanted to steal her from him. Sandor would go to the Seven Hells before he would allow that to happen, and the gods would pay dearly for it, he would see to it with his last breath.

"If anything happens to either of the Stark women, I swear on every one of your fucking gods that I will burn every image of the Seven, every weirwood tree, every sept, and all of the temples of the Lord of Light. I will slaughter every septon and septa and servant of R'hllor from King's Landing to the bloody Wall. I will lay waste to them all!"

"You would go so far as to kill even me?" Elder Brother asked him, the man staring him levelly in the face. "Even though I have tried to help you and have tended your family? Even though I have sworn my life to their safety?"

"If anything happens to Sansa or Arya, I'll be starting with you, holy man." Sandor spat back, pointing into the man's chest, "So you best say your prayers and hope that your gods listen this time."

Elder Brother nervously shrunk away from his gaze, and satisfied, Sandor then stormed out of the room.