Hey guys. It's been awhile, my apologies. Personal life got in the way and I was extremely uninspired to write anything. Game of Thrones starting back up rejuvenated me and I'll be updating as much as humanly possible. Thanks for your patience. Enjoy! Talk to me on tumblr /celticwanderer

Sansa avoided Ser Illyn Payne's gaze for as long as she could but the curiosity to see if he was still staring at her grew to be too much. As she looked to the other side of the high tower, she immediately regretted her decision, for as she feared his cold dead eyes were boring into hers. She whipped her head back around.

"My lady?" Shae furrowed her brow.

"He's watching." Sansa whispered, even though they were far enough from the guard to speak with out him hearing, Sansa didn't trust anyone's ears besides her handmaiden.

Shae looked over Sansa's shoulder as if she was glancing at a paining and saw he was indeed watching them. "Pay him no mind. He won't touch a single hair on your head." She smiled, trying to ease Sansa's mind and mask her concern at the same time. "Remember what I gave you."

Shea's dagger burned against Sansa's thigh. She promised her friend she would use it if she had to and she planned on keeping that promise. Sansa looked around the room. All highborn ladies, young and old were huddled together in groups. Some were sharing food, some were trying to calm there crying children, some were even braiding each other's hair. She wished her own mother was there to comfort her, but during the lonely nights in the red keep, she had gotten used to comforting herself. She returned Shae's smile and took a deep breath, but found it hard as the metal detail on the dress made it not only extremely tight, but almost impossible to move in.

"More wine." Cersei's command hissed though the high tower sending shivers down Sansa's spine. She was sitting above everyone else, alone, watching as a lion watches its prey.

A loud BOOM from outside shook the room stealing cries and prayers from all inside. Sansa tried but couldn't imagine what was happening outside the castle walls, but it sounded terrifying. Boys younger than her were out there, the thought made her feel sick. Behind Shae, Sansa noticed a small group of woman holding hands with closed eyes. With out thinking, she got up and joined them, listening to the eldest in her prayer. She let the words of her mother's Gods take her somewhere else. Somewhere far from this place. She was in a field. The grass was a deep green, darker than anything she had seen in the gardens of King's Landing. She was in Winterfell. She could feel the wet grass under each step, the scent of a passed storm fresh in the air. A smile grew on her face and she held out her arms looking up at the grey sky. Though as soon as she did, her heart felt heavy. The color reminded her of something. Of someone.

"Little Dove." Cersei called from the red chair lined with gold. "Come." She held out her delicate hand.

Sansa got up from the prayer circle and bowed.

"What were you doing?" The corner of Cersei's mouth curled into a mocking smile.

"Praying, your grace."

"You're perfect, aren't you?" Cersei snickered. "Sit." Cersei snapped her fingers, and a servant girl was there at once with a goblet of wine. She handed it to Cersei who held it in front of Sansa's face.

"Thank you." She fingered the jewels that surrounded the rim of the cup. "But I'm not thirsty, your grace."

"So." Cersei said matter-of-factly." I do not offer you water. Drink"

Sansa did as she was told. She brought the goblet to her full lips and let the red liquid spill down her throat. The taste made her wince at first, but the notes of plums and blackberries that lingered on her tongue was pleasant.

Cersei stared at her, with eyes that could fool anyone into thinking she knew all their secrets. "What were you praying about."

"For the safety of everyone, your grace." Sansa looked down.

"Everyone? Even Joffrey?"

"Yes."

"Even me?" Cersei left her mouth open and raised an eye brow as if daring Sansa to argue.

"Of course, your grace."

Cersei took a long sip of her wine before holding the goblet out to be refilled. "Tell me child, are you in love with Joffrey?"

"He is my one true love."

"I am not asking if you love him. I'm asking if you're in love with him." Cersei slouched in her seat, getting closer to Sansa. "There is a difference. When you're in love with someone, it hurts your whole body to be away from them, even if only for a few moments. It twists your insides. When you're in a room you look for them first. They come with the sun in the morning and are the last thing you think of before going to sleep. I know the feeling." Cersei's eyes drifted to a ring on her finger. "Yes, I know it well. I can see it in your eyes, and I know it's not for my son."

Sansa tried to steady her rapidly beating heart, for she had felt those things recently for someone she used to be unable to look at. A man with the reputation of a monster who never once hurt her.

"You think because I drink, I do not see. You are wrong, child. I see more than any man. All women do. We see the little things, the things that are so small we doubt anyone notices."

Another loud BOOM causes the room to shake. Small pieces of dust fell from the ceiling briefly reminding Sansa of the soft first snows of Winter back home. A uproar of worried moans filled the room, causing Cersei's focus on Sansa to break. She watched the woman, her people, cower and comfort each other. "I'd rather be out there, fighting in the dirt with then men than watching over these hens."

Sansa looked at the poor woman who's fear she shared.

"They're frightened." The words came out before she had time to stop them.

"They should be. If our walls don't hold and Stannis gets through it won't be long before that door is broken down and we'll be raped before they slit our throats."

Cersei's ability to say such crude things made Sansa feel uncomfortable, and she took another small drink from her goblet.

"Men can smell what lies between a woman's legs from the other side of the realm. It is every man's weakness. Even in the midst of battle there lust for blood never outweighs their lust to bury themselves inside the warmth of a woman. Especially ones so young and pretty." Cersei tucked a red curl behind Sansa's ear who knew better than to flinch at her cold touch. Cersei sat back in her seat. "No matter, that's why we have Ser Illyn guarding that door."

Sansa and Cersei looked at the guard who's soul left long ago. "Yes, he is the only man who would rather cut a man's head off than have a woman."

Sansa shuddered at the memories of him cutting off her father's head but she pushed the thoughts away. Now was not the time to get upset. She had to keep a clear mind and be ready. She wondered how many men Lord Baelish would come with. If they would be any match for the ruthless Ser Illyn Payne.

"The true nature of men come out during war, Little Dove. You see what people are really made of. What they're willing to do to protect someone, what they're capable of when there's no order. You experienced a mere taste during the riots."

The memory of that frightening afternoon came back to her. She had been terrified. The guards were more focused on getting the royal family to safety, but only one came back for her. As she was pushed to the ground, her dress ripped and covered in dirt, one came back and killed the men who's intentions were clear. He lifted her up like she weighed no more than a pillow and carried her to the safety of the castle walls. She saw Sandor's truth that day. His armor dug into her stomach as he carried her but she didn't mind because it meant she was safe.

"Wait here." Bronn walked up the damp steps of the dungeons and peered out the door leading to the castle.

Sandor could hear battle above. He knew every inch of the castle and even though he was in the cold, dark dungeon, he could tell the screams were coming from the sea. It was no surprise to him that Stannis would use ships, Sandor wondered if he had his men attack from land as well. The majority of the Baratheon army was in the North to fight Robb Stark in the Riverlands leaving King's Landing lacking. If Stannis was starting to thin out the Baratheon army, it would only be a matter of time before Joffrey ordered Ser Meryn to get Sansa

Bronn's armor clanked as he made his way back down the steps. "The hall is clear, but there are three men on the other side. They were dirty, probably deserters."

Sandor passed Bronn and made his way up the stairs, not trying to be quiet.

He stormed down the hall with only one thing one his mind. The maiden, fairer than all the rest. Bronn followed close behind, checking behind them with every other step. The halls shook from a loud thunderous sound, but it did not faze Sandor. He kept on until he saw the three men Bronn spoke f. They froze when they saw him approach.

"S-Sandor Clegane." One of them mumbled. "You tried to flee."

"Is that what they're saying. And what are you doing?"

The three men exchanged worried glances. "Aye, that's what I thought." With that Sandor and Bronn quickly killed the three deserters. He would've left them to fend for themselves, but he couldn't risk anyone seeing him until he and Sansa were long gone. And he couldn't deny, the blood in the air was contagious and he was ravenous for Litterfinger's.

"Where is she?" He barked as they ran down the hall.

"The high tower."

Seven buggering hells, Sandor thought. She would be well guarded if she was with Cersei. "No chance of getting her out of there now. Find the snake." Sandor hissed.

They stopped as they came to the end of the hall. In the distance they could see a faint green glow in the sky. The air outside burned their eyes and throats. He knew he had to find Stranger before he found Sansa. They would most likely be leaving in a hurry with thunder behind them and he needed to make sure everything was ready. If something happened to her because he didn't think ahead, it would be a worse pain to bare than that of Gregor.

Sandor started to the stables, but Bronn stopped him, grabbing his arm. "Take care of her, or I'll track you down and ruin the other side of your face."

Sandor nodded and if you were looking for it, you could see the faintest of smiles, but it disappeared quickly as he turned and ran. Though he had never considered anyone his friend, Bronn was the man he wanted to kill the least.

The noise became louder, almost deafening as he hurried across the training field. He could hear his war horse inside the stables, itching to get out. The noise was spooking him. Sandor ran faster before Stranger hurt himself.

He swung the stable doors open so hard he almost tore the doors off their hinges. He was met by two large black legs, almost hitting him in the face as his war horse neighed.

"Stranger..." He soothed. He had never seen him like this. They had fought through many battles together, but none like this. Sandor hoped whatever that smell was wasn't poisoning them. "Stranger..." He said again in as calm a voice as he could. One thing he learned from his grandfather was that horses could understand you. Not in words, but in feelings. Horses can sense fear above all else. Sandor steadied his beating heart and caught Strangers reins. He stepped closer and stroked his snout. "There boy. We're going to be just fine." He spoke softly into his ear.

He briefly thought of the book his sister gave to him. The worn pages filled with tales of handsome knights rescuing fair maidens who were trapped by evil families or monster. He never told his sister, but he always hated the stories. Mayhaps it was because he knew he could never be a knight as handsome as the stories described and it left him filled with envy. That would never be him, and yet here he was. Risking his life for a maiden so fair and kind, there was none from any book or song across Westeros, even beyond The Wall that could compare. He always thought how foolish the knights were that risked their lives for these brainless girls, but now, as he readied his horse, death itself was the only thing that could stop him from getting Sansa to safety.

BOOM! The stable walls shook violently and Sandor kept a steady hand on Stranger's neck keeping him from bucking in the small stable. With an easy jump, he mounted his steed and tore out of the stable. Stranger's hooves slammed against the soil like canons being fired from a ship. "Come on, boy!" He whipped Stranger's reins and they rode toward the castle.

Sansa wasn't sure how long she had been sitting in the high tower. There was no way to tell how much of the night had gone by in the darkness. She glanced at the door every few moments growing incredibly anxious waiting for Lord Baelish. She stroked the dagger under the velvet of her dress and thought about the journey before her. She knew of his infatuation with her mother, but was unsure of what he was capable of. If he tried to touch me, would I be brave enough to slit his throat and run before his guards found out?

Her question remained unanswered as the doors opened. Sansa stood and watched members of the Kingsguard walk in, their new armor covered with dirt and blood. The other ladies in the room cowered to the walls and the Kingsguard approached Cersei, bowing before they spoke.

"By order of the King, Sansa Stark of Winterfell is here by ordered to accompany us to the battlefield."

Gasps laced with horror filled the room and all eyes went to her. Sansa swallowed hard. Was this part of Lord Baelish's plan? Two of the men grabbed Sansa's arms.

"No! Let go of me!" She cried.

"Stop!" A surprising voice commanded.

The guards seized their halt and Cersei slowly walked down the three short steps, the wine making her slightly sway. She walked right up to Sansa, still being held by the Kings guard, stopping so close Sansa could feel her breath against her cheek. For a moment, Sansa wondered if she was going to help her, but quickly remembered the lioness standing before her and knew it was impossible. Cersei pressed her face against her ear.

"Do not scream, Little Dove. It will only make him enjoy it more." She whispered and kissed Sansa's cheek.

She took a few steps back and nodded at the guards. They turned Sansa around and led her out of the room, giving her just enough time to look back at Shae and in that moment, gone as quick as a breath, they said their silent good byes.

The halls looked different. The torches along the walls that usually cast a warm glow were not lite. Instead, the torches ablaze outside, dancing in the wind gave just enough light for one to see. The brilliant moving orange hue shining brilliantly against the stones.

The guards did not speak, nor let go of her arms. A terrible feeling boiled in the pit of her stomach. These were not Lord Baelish's men. She was really being taken to the battle field. Tears threatened to leave her eyes but she did not let them. She thought of Arya, and her dear mother. What would they do?

"I-I must go to my chambers first." She spat out before she could consider her words. The guards did not respond. Their continuous unified steps fueled Sansa's fire and she thought of another. The Hound. She took a deep breath, as if trying to breathe in his crudeness and tore her arm free from one of the guards. "You are escorting a high born girl, a Stark to be raped on front of two opposing armies! Surely you can allow her to go to her chambers first!" She breathed heavily, amazed at herself. She did not back down, her eyes as blue as The Wall pierced through the three guards. They exchanged silent glances and the eldest looked back at Sansa.

"You must make it quick."

She nodded, and the two guards resumed their positions on either side of her, leading her to her chambers. She walked the rest of the way in disbelief that she was able to make them do her bidding. Sandor would be proud she thought.

When they reached her chamber door, the guards followed her inside. Sansa turned around. "Please, I wish to be alone to pray, just for a moment." She exuded as much sadness as she could in her eyes. The guards shared another silent glance and Sansa wondered if they ever spoke to one another. "There's nothing below my chamber, I cannot escape."

"Make it fast, m'lady." The eldest spoke again. "And don't lock the door." Sansa nodded and closed the door slowly.

Alone at last, Sansa let out the breath she seemed to be holding in since she found out Sandor was in the dungeons. She wanted to let out more but decided she spent far too many nights crying in the horrid chamber. She looked around the room for anything she could use as a weapon. She had the dagger, but needed more. She never thought the guards would actually listen to her, and she hadn't thought this far. I can't possibly kill all three of them, I'm not strong enough. Growing frustrated, she ran a hand through her hair and noticed something in the vanity. Her eyes did not go to her reflection, but behind her. An odd green light was peering through the curtains. She walked over to them and placed a delicate hand on one of them, pulling it open.

She shielded her eyes from the brightness. The entire sky was lite up with green. Gods, what is this? She stepped out onto the balcony. Her eyes began watering and she plugged her nose from the acid like smell that filled the air. She walked to the edge of the balcony and her eyes widened in horror at the sight below her.

Twenty ships sat in the dark sea. Most of them were burning in green fire. Men, caught in the green flames jumped from the ships into the sea. The screams that echoed in the high tower were muffled and now, being outside, they were so loud it almost hurt her ears. She looked down and saw men fighting. Swords clashing into swords. Limbs flying in the air. From her height, she couldn't tell who was fighting for Joffrey's and who was fighting for Stannis. They all looked the same. Young, scared boys, poor men fighting for their families, fighting for a place that doesn't treat them like people. The sight was sickening. A loud BOOM burst through the air and Sansa watched as a catapult threw a what looked like a cauldron into the air. It soared over the sea and crashed into one of Stannis' ships swallowing the ship with green flames. Sansa had never seen anything like it. Not even in her books were battles described like this. She never read about the stench of blood in the air, or the horrific screams of a dying man, or the brutality they're capable of.

For the first time, Sansa was seeing what people were willing to do to be in power. And stay in power. Though her name was a Stark, if it meant this would come to Winterfell, she would gladly give the North up. Is this what Robb is seeing, she wondered. She looked up at the sky and prayed to the Old Gods and The New for every single man fighting. She doubted Joffrey or Stannis were joining their men in the mud. It wasn't their war and yet they were the ones dying and killing.

No wonder Sandor is filled with such anger, she thought. She couldn't imagine him being down there. She knew he could take on many men, cut them down like one would cut flowers, but he was not a God. All men die, and she was glad he was in the dungeons and not down there, for she did not know what she would do if he too was taken from her.

"M'lady" A guards voice was close behind her. Sansa gasped and spun around. The eldest guard was standing on her balcony, but his eyes were not on her. They were on the scene below them.

"My son was down there." He said. He walked past Sansa and looked down. "Joffrey promised him safety, but he put him on the front lines, saying he would come back a brave hero." Tears streamed down the guards face. "They knocked him down, and a horse trampled him." He took in a shaky breath.

Sansa slowly started to back away. "I watched him die." He cried.

She didn't know where the other two guards were, but she continued walking back until she felt the curtain behind her. She was about the run when the guard turned around. Where she thought she would find hatred, she found nothing. His eyes were died. "Go." He said quietly.

"Wh-Why are you-"

"Go!" He yelled.

Sansa turned and ran. She ran out of her room, passing the two Kingsguards who lay dead on the ground with their throats slit. She tore down the dark halls, not certain of where she was going until she reached the stairs that led to the dungeons.

"Sandor..." She breathed. For the first time that night, she felt hopeful. I'll go down there and free him and he'll help me leave! She forgot all about their last conversation, it didn't matter anymore. Now, it was not only her, but both of them that needed to escape King's Landing. She started down the stairs and into the waiting darkness.

The torches were lit few and far between, giving her just enough light to step over the rubble that fell from the ceiling. It was cold and dark, much like the tombs of Winterfell. They used to frighten her and she'd never go down their alone, but she was not that little girl anymore. She looked in every cell, almost calling out his name but stopped herself in case there was a guard nearby. As she turned the last corner, she stopped short looking at the gruesome scene before her.

A dead man was sprawled on the ground, with a cell bar beside him. Sansa looked around cautiously before stepping closer to examine the cell. Someone had pulled it out, probably with the help of this man before killing him and leaving. Sansa's heart started racing. "Sandor!" She cried. The only thing that answered was the silence. "Sandor!" She tried again. "Oh Gods, no." She backed away from the dead man before turning around to run.

She had to find him, but had no idea where to start. She wanted to sit down in the darkness and cry. It would be so easy, she thought. Another BOOM crashed into a ship and shook the dungeon, causing more pieces of the ceiling to come down. Sansa ran out of the way of the falling stone taking that as a sign from the Old Gods that she had to keep going.

She hurried back up the stairs, stopping before she ran down the long corridor. She thought of where the best place to find him would be. The stables! She decided she would go there, since she knew he wouldn't leave with out his horse, and if the horse was gone, she'd find her own way out. She gathered all the strength she could. From her father, her mother, Lady, and Sandor and started down the hall.

She ignored the pain against her ribs from the tight corset and kept going. Running as fast as she did when Robb and Jon would play knights and dragons and chase her through the Godswood. Faster and faster she ran as she turned the corner and smashed right into someone. She fell on her back and caught her breath before looking up at the man standing above her.

Sandor tied Stranger to a tree out of sight and ran into the castle. The halls were quiet, as all the guards were on the battle field. He quickly made his way through the Red Keep. He pondered going to the high tower, but knew if she was still there, he'd have no chance. Instead, he decided he would go to her chambers, and if she wasn't there he would wait by the high tower, ready to slaughter any man who was sent to get her.

When he saw the two guards outside her door, their blood soaking the floor, he drew his sword and kicked the door open. "Girl!" He shouted. He looked frantically around her room, but didn't see her. A gust of wind blew the curtains open and green light washed over his face. He stepped out onto the balcony, and saw the awful sight that had developed while he was in the dungeons. All he could see was fire. His body started to tremble, sweat dripped down his face. The land, the sea and the sky were burning. He braved the heat and looked down over the balcony, just in case the Littlebird tried to fly away. He let out a thankful breath when he didn't see her on the ground. She wasn't there and he had to keep moving.

He was about to leave her chambers when he heard voices coming down the hall. He hid behind the dark curtains as the voices got closer. The men came into Sansa's dark chambers.

"She's not here!" One of them shouted.

"Lord Baelish isn't going to like this." Another said.

"If she's not in the high tower or her blody chambers where the Gods name is she?"

Sandor tried to count the men's footsteps, judging from what he could make out, there were three men in the room. He could take them easily. He tore the curtains from their rod and charged at the men. The first one was the easiest to kill. He didn't see Sandor coming and he snapped his neck The other two drew their swords, though Sandor could see the fear in their eyes.

He swung his sword and laughed. "Littlefinger must be paying you two a pretty penny."

"Aye. A pretty one for the whore, and an even prettier one for your head."

Calling Sansa a whore was all the invitation Sandor needed and with one easy swing, he slit the man's gut and stabbed his in the heart. The other came at him, but he was almost as skinny as Littlefinger. Sandor easily pushed him off and slid his sword through his back. He pressed his boot against the man's back and pushed him off his sword, hitting the ground with a loud thud.

Sandor stood quietly for a moment, and once he was certain all the men were dead he breathed easier. After having no food, or worse, wine, lifting the cell bar, and exerting himself, he needed to stop for a moment and think. He sat on Sansa's bed, sinking into it. It was much more comfortable than his. His rickety old bed squeaked with every move and the dirty mattress was stuff with hay. He lifted her pillow and rubbed his calloused fingers over the silk. He brought it to his face and inhaled the sweet lavender scent reminding him of fiery red hair and eyes as blue as the sea. She wasn't in the high tower, he knew that for certain. He also knew he had to find her before Littlefinger, or worse Joffrey.

He tore his white cloak from his armor and wiped his sword clean with it. He left the room shoving his sword back in its sheath, leaving nothing behind but a bloody cloak.