Sansa barely slept that night, and when Shae came to get her ready for the morning, she helped her put cream under her eyes to hide the dark circles. Sansa sat silently in front of the vanity as Shae tried to work her magic.

"What's the matter, my lady?" She asked.

Sansa didn't know where to begin. She was sure Sandor didn't go to the brothel, his eyes were honest when he said denied it, but that only left her with an embarrassed feeling for accusing him of doing so, and a confused feeling as to why she would be so upset at that. Then there was the fact that both he and Petyr Baelish, in different ways, told her she needed to leave. Though, the one who offered his help was not the one she wanted. She knew Petyrs ways. How skilled he was with words, and while she liked to think she was smart enough not to let him manipulate her, but he articulated something she was already thinking. Her dear mother was busy with Robb and the war. She knew that was the most important thing right now, and wasn't angry with her for putting her attentions on the bigger cause, but still, she wanted her mother to save her. She wanted Robb to barge down the doors with his wolves and come take her away from this place for good.

As her handmaiden looked at her with concerned eyes, Sansa wanted to tell her everything, but it would be impossible to with out revealing Sandor was the man she liked. Her eyes welled up with tears again, frustrated at not being able to tell anyone anything in this place.

Shae knelt down in front of her and took her hands. "You can tell me."

Sansa took a breath. "Two men told me yesterday I'm in danger, and need to leave King's Landing." She cried.

"Why are you in danger?" She asked.

"Joffrey has plans for me when Stannis comes. He means to use me as a tactic to get Stannis to surrender." She confessed.

"What kind of plan?" Shae's tone turned from concern to anger. Sansa tried to hold in her sob. She couldn't say the words out loud. "Who are the men that told you this?"

"Lord Baelish."

Shae's face changed, she didn't like the sound of that.

"He offered to help me." Sansa looked up with hopeful eyes.

"He's a snake." Shae said, disgusted. "And the other man?" Sansa stayed silent, She couldn't reveal his name. As much as she liked Shae, she learned not to entirely give her trust to anyone. "Is it the man you spoke of last night?" Shae asked softly.

Sansa nodded. His silence told her he wouldn't go with her, and she ended the conversation by telling him not to speak to her again. More tears streamed down her face at that thought. Shae wiped them away. "He won't help me." Sansa sobbed.

Shae squeezed Sansa's hands, trying to find the right words to comfort her. A knock at the door interrupted her train of thought. Shae got up and opened the chamber door slightly. Sandor's tall frame stood in the hall.

"I'm here to take the lady to breakfast." He said. His eyes looked tired, like he hadn't slept.

"She'll be out in a moment." Shae hissed before shutting the door.

She went back to Sansa and wiped her tears into a cloth. "You have to go to breakfast now, my lady. We can talk more about this later if you wish."

Sansa nodded. "Thank you, Shae."

Dressed in a velvet green dress, with gold embroidery along the neckline, Sansa took one final look at her self in the mirror. Her hair was up in a braided halo. The makeup did little to help the dark circles under her eyes. All I can do is get a good night's rest tonight, she thought.

Shae held her hand on the doorknob and Sansa gave her a nod, telling her she was ready. When Shae opened the door, her eyes immediately met Sandor's grey ones. She too noticed his tired eyes. Her throat dried, and her heart felt as though it was about to fly out of her chest, but she reminisced cold and composed. With out a word, Sansa exited her chambers and started down the corridors to the dining hall.

She could feel Sandor's presence behind her with her whole body. His armor clinking and clanking with every large stride. She became very aware of her movements, how she looked from behind when she walked. She kept her chin high, and her hands clasped. She reminded herself that she was a Stark. Her sister managed to escape this place, her brother Robb was leading the entire North in this war, her brother Jon, braved the cold and unknown in the Night's Watch, and her father died an honest man. The Stark's were

brave and true, she would find a way out.

When they arrived in the dining hall, Cersei and Joffrey were already seated. She stood before them, and bowed.

"Trouble sleeping, little dove?" Cersei remarked.

"A little, your grace." Sansa said regally.

"What's troubling you, child?" She persisted.

"The worry of war, I suppose."

"Not to worry child, we have the greatest army in all of Westeros. No one will beat us. We shall, and always shall remain on the iron throne." She smiled.

"Then tonight I shall have a good night's rest." Sansa lied.

She took her seat, and Sandor stood against the wall behind them. She ignored his presence and stared at the breakfast in front of her. Large plates covered the long mahogany table. Honey baked hams, beaten eggs, toasted bread with an assortment of jams, tea, coffee, and wine for the queen. Sansa thought it funny how much food the kitchens made for the royal family, when they barely touched it. Cersei nibbled on half a piece of toast, and Joffrey threw his boiled eggs at the fool dancing in front of him. She wondered how many families this feast could feed. Guilt ran through her veins as she stared at the full plate in front of her. She had no appetite, but made herself eat a little. She was aware of how lucky she was to have a comfortable bed, and plenty of food.

Tyrion and his trusted man Bronn stormed through the doors startling everyone.

"Ah brother, why are you so late?" Cersei sneered. "Up with the worry of war as well?" She mocked.

Tyrion clenched his fists, and took his seat beside Sansa. "No. just cleaning up yet another mess." He glared at Joffrey. When a servant offered to pour him coffee, he placed his hand over his cup. The servant picked up a decanter of wine, and Tyrion removed his hand, allowing the red liquid to spill into his cup.

Instead of her usual chamomile tea, Sansa opted for coffee this morning. She winced at the first few sips, not liking the bitter taste. Tyrion slid a cup of cream over to her and she poured it in. He returned to dipping his sausages into the sweet syrup. Sansa took another sip. It tasted much better, and she smiled at Tyrion with thanks. He was the only one of the Lannister's who treated her not only with respect, but like she was a human being.

Once Joffrey threw the last of his eggs at the poor fool in front of them, his unwanted attentions went to Sansa. "That's a beautiful dress." He observed.

"Thank you, your grace." Sansa said fearfully.

He turned to his mother. "I want three more made just like it, but lower the neckline."

Cersei nodded and Joffrey began stuffing his face with ham. "Would you like that?" He asked Sansa with a mouth full.

"Yes, your grace. Very much so."

He smiled as he chewed. "Good. You must learnt to like what I do, for when you become my wife, I will decide what you wear..." His brought his hand up to her hair and fingered a loose curl. "and how you wear your hair."

Sansa wanted to flinch at his touch but remained still. She would rather him touch her, than berate her, She was too tired to deal with his rage this morning.

Satisfied, he returned to eating. "It won't be long now before Stannis comes. Once we defeat his army, your brother's will be next. Would you like to watch me slaughter them?"

Sansa's skin crawled at his words. "Yes, your grace."

"Have you ever seen blood, my lady?" He leaned in close, but spoke loud enough for all to hear. "Have you ever smelled the retched stench of the blood of hundreds of men? "

"No, I haven't your grace." She trembled.

"I'll take you outside, the morning after we defeat the wolves. We'll walk through their dead corpses, and breath in the air of their burning flash." He provoked.

"That's enough!" Cersei commanded.

Joffrey whipped his head around and burned his eyes through his mother's skull. "How dare you speak to me that way."

"Breakfast is not the time to talk about slaughter, dear." Cersei smiled and took a sip of wine, trying to diffuse the situation. "Mayhaps after, hm?"

"I will do as I please, and you will learn to speak to me as your king!" Joffrey scooted his chair back and walked to the doors. "Come, dog!" He called over his shoulder.

Sansa heard Sandor growl, and watched the two exit the dining halls.

"Mayhaps if his father were here, he wouldn't act this way." Tyrion mumbled.

"In case you forgot, he died." Cersei hissed.

"Did he?" Tyrion asked with a smirk.

Tension filled the room. Cersei threw her napkin on her plate. Terrible things can happen on the battlefield I'll make sure to remember that when you're fighting out there." Cersei threatened. She stood, and fluttered out of the room.

Tyrion and Sansa ate the rest of their breakfast in peace. When they finished, and Sansa got up to leave, much to her dismay, it was Ser Meryn and another guard who followed her. Tyrion shouted. "No, no, no"

She stopped and turned around. "Beg pardon, my lord?"

"Bronn." Tyrion called over. "You will escort Lady Stark where ever she goes today."

"Aye." Bronn bowed to Sansa and smiled. "My, lady."

"And what are we to do, imp?" Meryn mocked.

Tyrion smiled. "I was going to give you the day off, but seeing as you forgot your place, why don't you two make yourselves useful and shovel horse shit."

"You have stable boys to do that." Meryn argued.

"And today will be their day off." Tyrion shewed them away.

"Thank you, my lord." Sansa bowed.

Tyrion smiled. "Enjoy your day, Lady Stark." He smiled and left the room.

It was a nice day and Sansa felt like being outside and distracted. She first went back to her rooms to get a book, then made her way to the gardens. As she sat on a bench by the rose bushes, Bronn awkwardly followed suit. "I'll be fine on my own, you don't have to follow me around all day.

"But I do, lass. Tyrion's orders. "He smiled"

"You seem to be good friends." He noted.

"I would never call a Lannister my friend, but I don't despise him as much as the others." He joked.

Sansa returned his smile. A question popped into her mind, and before she could stop herself, she asked. "And what do you think of Joffrey?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Well that's not really my place to say, my lady."

"Speak freely." Sansa offered. "Please.

Bronn thought on it for a moment. "I think he's the spawn of evil."

Sansa took his words in and nodded in agreement. "It seems like everyone here is rotten."

"If I may, my lady," He waited for her permission to speak. She nodded. "I don't agree with you. There are some people here, not many, but there are some, who know the difference between right and wrong. They just don't have a choice in the matter."

"Like Tyrion?" She asked.

"Yes." He started. "Or even The Hound." He glanced at her.

"The Hound?" Sansa blurted out.

Bronn nodded. "No doubt, he has the face of monster, even I shook in my pants the first time i laid eyes on him, but I have respect for him. He's an honest man."

"Why do you say that?" She questioned.

Bronn turned his body to her. He didn't know how to act properly in front of a lady, but Sansa didn't mind so much. She found it refreshing. "People don't often pay attention to the little things. The small moments. But they're what I've been trained to look for. The way he covered you with his cloak, he knew what Joffrey ordered was wrong, I could tell the way he insisted on walking you to your door last night says he doesn't trust you with anyone else, and I can tell by the way your fidgeting, that you know I'm right."

Sansa immediately drew her hands apart. Conscious of how she was sitting, she realized she had tensed up. Oh Gods, he knows. She swallowed hard, trying to find the words to convince him he was wrong.

"Your face isn't hard to read, you don't have to look so afraid. I'm not going to say anything." He reassured.

"How am I supposed to believe you?" Sansa whispered.

"Because I know the difference between right and wrong. And I would never hurt a true lady, and you Sansa Stark are a true lady, who's lucky to have a man as intimidating as the Hound look after you."

Sansa looked down at her book and let out a small smile.

Sandor watched as Joffrey eyed himself in the mirror like a princess. He stood in his chambers for over an hour, watching seamstresses fit him with a new wardrobe. What kind of King would worry about clothes when war was upon them? Cunts. Sandor thought. Cersei sat on his bed and watched.

"No, try the blue." She waved at one of the seamstresses.

"No, mother, I want the red!" He shouted. "Don't do anything she says, "Joffrey looked down at the seamstress. "or I'll make sure you don't eat for a week."

"Yes, your grace." The girl said timidly.

This went on for another half hour, before Cersei requested a word alone with her little shit of a son, finally releasing Sandor from that room.

After not sleeping, and spending the good part of his day in a room talking about clothes with Cersei and Joffrey, he needed fresh air. A ride with Stranger would do him good. He passed the little bird's chamber on the way outside. His fists and jaw clenched. On the walk to breakfast, she wouldn't look at him. He wanted desperately to say something to her, but still hadn't come up with the right words. It doesn't matter if they're the right or wrong words, he thought. She made it clear she doesn't want me to speak to her. His thought went to how Joffrey spoke to her this morning. Of how he touched her. Putting thoughts of her brother's dead body into her mind. It took everything he had not to strangle the yellow haired bastard's neck right there. He watched as she picked at her food, and decided he would try to speak to her after breakfast, but after Joffrey's outburst, he was commanded to leave with him. He had to wait until dinner to talk to her... Even if the little bird didn't want him to.

So entranced in his thoughts, Sandor barely saw Tyion's plumply pet, Podrick walk in front of him.

"Ser Clegane!" He said after him.

Sandor stopped and turned to Podrick who stepped back in fear. "I am no ser boy." Sandor rasped.

"Apologies ser-apologies, umm, apo-"

"Get to it boy." Sandor spat.

"Lord Tyrion has requested a word, if you'll follow me." Podrick shook and started walking back the way Sandor came.

He growled, then followed the boy.

Tyrion sat behind his large wooden desk. papers, books, and maps piled high on either side. It smelled musky in there, the way a book that hasn't been opened in a long time might smell. Sandor stood by the doorway in his usual full armor. When he was walking around the Red Keep, the weight of the metal wasn't so bad, but when he had to stand for hours on end, it made his shoulders and back sore.

"Sit, please. Make yourself comfortable." Tyrion motioned for Sandor to sit in the chair on the other side of his desk.

Sandor growled under his breath. In four large strides he made it from the door to the chair, and sat down. His armor making a loud clank. Tyrion poured wine in two goblets. He offered one to Sandor, who took it. He was used to drinking out of leather skins, not jeweled goblets, but he drank all the same. The Imp was the only person he reckoned could drink as much as him.

"How is everything, Clegane?" Tyrion asked, resting his chin on top of his clasped hands.

"Bloody fantastic." Sandor groaned. It was much too early for this. "Is that why you called me here? To talk about our buggering feelings?"

Tyrion laughed. "No offense, but you would be my last choice for companionship in blabbering on about one's day. We'll pass on the pleasantries then and get right down to it. I assume you know about, Ros? The red headed whore?"

"Aye. Why would the well-being of a loose woman interest me?" Sandor barked.

"Joffrey killed her." Tyrion's words shocked Sandor. He knew Joffrey would torture the poor girl but nothing more. "She was found this morning, tied to his bed post with three arrows in her stomach. He slept in his bed while she hung there, dying." Tyrion finished. Sandor swallowed hard. "I asked you here because I want to know your thoughts on Joffrey's plan for the Stark girl. His cruelties seem to be worsening. I did not think there to be any truth to his words, I thought it was just for show, but now... well now I'm not so sure."

Sandor took a large gulp of his wine. If he was going to have to sit here and talk about the little shit's plan to have Sansa raped, he needed a buzz. "How's your day so far?" He mocked, wanting to avoid the atrocious subject.

Tyrion chuckled, he made up for his lack of intimidation with wisdom. He held out the decanter, offering more wine. Sandor accepted. "I would have no problem seeing to it that more gold be given to you in return for your protection."

Sandor took another gulp before answering. "You can't buy more protection from me, I'm already following your orders to keep an eye on her. I keep my word, imp."

"Surely there must be something you want?" Tyrion pressed on.

Sandor scoffed. He thought it funny that before asking again, the imp went to bribing so quickly. That was how things worked in King's Landing. "I already tried to warn the girl." Sandor admitted.

"And?" Tyrion asked with a concerned expression.

Sandor recalled their conversation. He wanted to help her, desperately. He imagined if they escaped together. On top of just trying to survive in the wilderness, how was he supposed to get her all the way to the North safely? They would be alone, in the forest, without news of the war. They would have no way of knowing which direction led to safety, and which headed to danger, or illness. If anything happened to her, he would only have himself to blame. He didn't know if he could live with that guilt. He was used to only caring for himself, until the Stark girl had come along.

"Clegane..." Tyrion started, in a tone that one would use to take a dagger from a rambunctious child. "It is important I know everything that was said. Any piece of information may help me keep Sansa safe. Please." He begged.

The imp had proved to be on the Stark girl's side. He commanded someone to cover her the day Trant stripped her in the throne room. He knew he was right. "She wants me to go with her."

Tyrion didn't flinch at his sudden outburst. Silence filled the study. Both men simultaneously took a sip of their wine.

"It seems Lady Stark has found a friend in you." Tyrion remarked.

"I have no friends, and I'm not the kind that girl needs." Sandor said, more to himself than Tyrion.

Yet another silence passed between the two men and they took to their wine.

"Well then it's settled. You must leave with her." Tyrion said matter of factually.

"And will you have one of your fancy carriages ready to take us on a scenic route to Winterfell?" Sandor laughed. "The King's Road is no place for the girl!"

"Is it worse than this?" Tyrion yelled back.

Sandor knew he was right, but he couldn't continue this conversation until his mind was clear. He barged out of Tyrion's study, and stormed down the hall. Podrick quickly shuffled out of the way. He made his way outside. He knew he didn't have much time to think on this. He would ride Stranger to the spot by the creek and not leave until he made up his mind.

The Red Keep had a way of making him feel claustrophobic. The walls were painted with lies and secrets. You had to keep up in order to call it home, or live honestly and call it prison. He lived under the radar for as long as he could. Being Joffrey's dog, feared by all served him well. He didn't have to speak, he wasn't asked of anything unless it was to kill someone, which he never minded. He was a shadow and he liked it that way. And then the little red bird showed up chirping her sweet words at him. He furrowed his brow and the thought. Why did he feel the need to go out of his way to protect her? Even before Tyrion asked him to keep a close eye on the girl, he always had. He watched Joffrey treat people worse than her, and not an inch of desire came over him to save anyone else. Perhaps it was because when she came here, she was merrily a child. The same child with stars in her eyes that he was before Gregor put his face to the flames. He saw himself in her, and knew what it was like to scream for help and have no one hear you.

As he darted through the gardens on his way to the stables, he stopped short when he heard a girl laugh. He recognized it's sweetness and knew who it belonged to. He peered behind a tree and saw her sitting in the middle of rose bushes next to Bronn. Sandor would slit his throat next time he saw him. What were they dong, sitting in the gardens, laughing? Sandor saw red and almost went over there, but someone beat him to it.

Littlefinger slithered his way over to him. He heard Sansa chirp her false courtesies.

"If you would give us a moment alone?" He asked Bronn.

"Sorry, but I'm under Tyrion's orders to stay by Lady Stark all day." Bronn spat back at him.

Well done, Bronn. Sandor thought. I'm still going to kill him.

"Well, if you could at least step over there." Littlefinger motioned to a bench across from the one they sat on.

Bronn looked at Sansa, and she nodded it was alright. He stood and brushed passed Littlefinger, taking a seat on the bench on the other side of the bushes.

"May I?" Littlefinger asked Sansa.

"Please." She allowed, and he took a seat next to her.

He's sitting too close, Sandor raged.

As he spoke to her, he lowered his voice. Sandor couldn't hear them and there wasn't a closer tree for him to watch behind. Plus, his armor would make too much noise if he moved. So he stayed, still and silent, as he was used to and watched. The back of Littlefinger's head blocked Sansa's face. He didn't sense any sign of distress, if he did, he would march right over there.

The conversation lasted only minutes. Littlefinger stood and took Sansa's hand. As he bowed, he placed a kiss on the back of her palm with his slimy lips. Sandor's entire body tensed up. It took everything he had not to cut his head off. He seemed to be practicing a lot of self control lately, and needed to release his anger. Stannis' army couldn't be coming at a better time. He was in the mood not to kill, but slaughter.

Bronn sat back next to Sansa and asked if she was alright. She nodded and told him she felt like walking. He stood and held out his hand for her. At least he treated her like the lady she was, Sandor thought.

He followed them as they walked slowly through the gardens. The headed off to one of the outdoor balcony's. Sandor watched as Sansa leaned her forearms on the stone railing looking out at the sea. He could see them talking, but the wind was strong out here, and he couldn't hear them. Bronn turned around, leaning his back against the railing and spotted Sandor. Bronn turned back to Sansa and said something, before making his way to Sandor. Sansa kept her gaze on the sea.

Bronn stopped in front of Sandor and crossed his arms, displaying a smirk.

"You'll wipe that look off your face if you want to keep your arms." Sandor threatened.

Bronn chuckled and nodded his head to Sansa. "She doesn't know you're here. Go over there."

Sandor glared at Bronn waiting for him to add some snarky comment, but he didn't. Sandor walked passed him, not breaking his gaze until his back was to him.

As he walked to Sansa, a nervous feeling made itself known deep in his stomach.. The wind caused her dress to blow to one side, revealing the feminine curve of her body. He stopped a few feet from her. She must be so lost in thought, she didn't hear me approach, he thought.

"Little bird..."

Sansa turned around quickly, her eyes meeting his. Loose curls blew softly in her face and by the way her chest heaved up and down, he saw she was nervous. They stood in silence for a few moments.

"What did Littlefinger say to you?" He dared. He had to know.

"You were watching me?" She accused.

Sandor ignored her question. "What did he say?"

"What does it matter to you?" She barked. Her cheeks turned a vibrant shade of red. "He offered me his help."

"He doesn't do anything unless he's getting something out of it, girl!" Sandor warned.

"I know." Sansa uttered, looking up at him, her pink lips in a pout, her blue eyes burning into his, the roaring sea behind her. Something natural took over and he stepped closer, almost closing the distance between them.

"You can't go with him." Sandor said deeply. He wasn't sure if it was her, or the wind, but she moved closer to him. His eyes went to her lips, and back up to her eyes.

Something changed in them in that quick moment. He saw a glimmer of what he could only describe as longing.

"I will go with whoever will take me away from this place." Sansa whispered. As she stepped back, he became aware his hand was holding her wrist. When did that happen? He tore his hand from hers.

"Excuse me." She said coldly and walked passed him.

Sandor turned around and saw he walk over to Bronn who waited for her. Sandor watched them walk away until they turned the corner. He stood there for a few minutes and gazed at the sea. The breeze blew his hair away from his burns. The salty waves sprayed droplets on his face, awakening him

I must be the one to take her away, he thought.