Sandor pulled his hood down tighter around his face. He felt so much more conspicuous here in the West. This was where he was born, where he'd grown up. He wagered people would know his face here even without the scars, and on this particular day, it was more important than ever that he remain as inconspicuous as possible. He heard the creak of the wheels as the cart rolled into his line of sight.
"Excuse me good sir? Are you looking for a ride?" Tess looked down at him from the seat on the front of the cart. The back was packed with twenty large casks of oil.
"Did they give you any trouble?" He asked as he pulled himself up into the seat beside her and took the reigns, urging the big horses forward.
"Of course not." She said, "Merchants are easy. As long as you have the coin up front, they don't ask questions."
She looked sideways at him from under the hooded velvet cloak she was wearing. It was a deep blue that made her eyes seem even brighter.
"By the way," she said, smiling her coy smile that drove him crazy, "this look." She gestured to his wool overcoat and hooded cloak, "is definitely working for you. I'm a fan."
As they passed the boundaries of the small village they'd been staying in and made their way out into the hilly countryside she slipped her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. They didn't have to be as careful when they were out here alone, and after a moment she rested her head on his shoulder. He leaned over to press his face to the top of her head and inhaled the sweet smell of her hair. Tess was more than he ever could have dreamed of wanting. There were moments, when he would catch her eye and she would give him that knowing smile, that he could hardly believe that she was his. She was his. Sandor had never truly had anything in his life that he valued, nothing precious. He looked down at the woman resting her head on his shoulder, he felt he could live a thousand years and never earn the happiness she'd given him in just these few weeks.
"How are you feeling about today?" She asked him.
"I have no fucking clue." He answered, which was the truth. The night she'd proposed this insane plan he hadn't taken it seriously. There were many more pressing matters at hand, but once Tess had gotten better, the idea had stuck in his head like a splinter. He decided that if an opportunity presented itself naturally, he would take it. Who the hell could have known within the next moon turn Tyrion would be presenting them just that opportunity? They'd been on the road for four days so far, and they were on schedule to make it to Lannisport by evening, then Casterly Rock the next day. Sandor wasn't sure what excuse Tess had given for their little excursion, but Tyrion and Bronn must have believed her because they were set to meet up with them at the inn in Lannisport by sun down.
Sandor had to let go of Tess's hand to steer the horses around a sharper turn. She didn't seem to mind though, she simply moved her hand down to his knee and began tracing small circles across it. Sandor shifted slightly in his seat. Gods she made him crazy. Sandor wasn't at all used to the way Tess made him feel. The idea that he could adore her completely and want nothing more than to see her smile everyday of his life, but she also made him feel like a young man barely of age again every time she got close, his blood pounding, trying to think about anything besides how badly he wanted to tear her clothes right off her body. What made it worse was that she made no effort to hide that she was feeling the same way. He honestly had no idea how the people around them were still ignorant, he felt like since the night he'd told her how he felt, it was nearly impossible for him to be in her presence without touching her in some way. True to her word she was still taking things slowly and he respected that. He understood her point, he knew something as simple as her rubbing his knee would not have given him the same kind of thrill if they'd jumped immediately into bed together, but it was going on two weeks, and he was still a man.
"We're almost there." He said to her. They went around another turn, and there it was. Nestled at the base of the foothills it's single tower looming darkly. The draw bridge was down. Gregor never needed it to keep anyone out. No one came anywhere close if they could help it. Clegane Keep, the seat of his house, his ancestral home. There was a deep bittersweet feeling turning his stomach. Part of him wanted to go back, to see the places he'd once been happy, no matter how briefly, but the other part of him was afraid. Afraid of what Gregor had left, afraid nothing of the life he'd known was still there.
"We don't have to do this," Tess said gently, seemingly reading his thoughts as she often did, "we can leave now and just let it rot."
"No," he replied, "I need to do this." He urged the horses on down the road.
He stepped over the threshold and into the main hall. It was as if time stood still. The signs of neglect were obvious. Vines were creeping down the windows, a thick layer of dust covered everything in the room, but his father's chair still sat exactly where it had at the head of the table. The pelt of the lion his ancestor had slain still hung above the giant hearth. He walked to his fathers chair, running his hands along the arm rests which ended in ornately carved snarling dog heads, the carvings he'd fashioned his helm after. Tess came to his side, he took her hand and led her through the archway to the right of the hearth. They were in a long hallway with a bank of windows to the right and doorways on the left. The first door was slightly ajar.
"This was my sisters room." He told Tess, pushing open the door.
It was obvious the room had been left completely untouched. There was a low table with several small cloth dolls, a wooden rocking horse, and a small bed with pale pink coverings. Sandor walked to her wardrobe and opened it. He reached in and ran his hand along one of her dresses.
"She was so small." He said mostly to himself, "I don't remember her being this small."
"You were a lot smaller yourself." Said Tess, she was lingering in the doorway of the the room watching him carefully. He could sense that she wanted to give him space to process this but she also wanted him to know she was there to support him however he wanted her to, and he was grateful. He picked up one of the small rag dolls and put it in then canvas bag he'd brought with him. While he was happy to be rid of most things in this place, there were a few memories he wanted to keep. He walked back to the doorway and to Tess. They walked to the next door in the hallway, it was his fathers room. He cracked the door but then shut it again quickly. The smell of death and decay reached his nostrils immediately. He had no interest in knowing what horrors Gregor had left behind that door. He stopped at the last door on the hallway and stood in front of it for what felt like a very long time.
"Your room?" Tess asked.
"Mine and Gregors." He answered.
He slowly pushed open the door. More than any other room in the house upon entering this room, the memories came flooding back. Things he was sure he'd forgotten. Playing with his little wooden horse on the floor. His first wooden sword and how Gregor would always steal it from him and try to hit him on the backs of his legs. That's why he'd learned to get fast. He walked over to his bed which was beside the window and sat down. The view was exactly the same. He could see the road that led away from the Keep down into the forest. He remembered sitting there as a boy, waiting to see his father riding back up the road from hunting. Being so jealous of Gregor and counting the days until he was old enough to go with them. He remembered the day Gregor rode back alone. A strange ache that Sandor couldn't quite place was spreading through his chest.
Tess was standing by the fire place. She was looking down on it with a somber expression.
"This is where it happened. Isn't it?" She said.
He stood and walked to join her.
"Yes," he said.
It was a strange thing, looking down into the fireplace. It was cold and dark, just stones, soot, and old ashes. Nothing to show that it was the place that changed his life forever. He placed his hand on the mantle and it brushed against something. It was so obscured by cobwebs and dust that he didn't immediately recognize it, but as he picked it up he knew what it was. It was the wooden knight, the one he'd taken from his brother. The reason he'd lived his entire fucking life with an inescapable reminder on his face. Seeing it here on the mantle, knowing his brother must have placed it there as some sort of sick trophy, it was too much. His hands began to tremble and before he could stop himself he smashed the little wooden figure against the stone mantle snapping off one of it's arms. He didn't stop, he smashed it again and again until it was nothing but a twisted mass of wood and then threw it at the wall as hard as he could.
"Fuck!", it was as if he was hearing his voice from outside his body, as if all the things he'd pushed down for so long, all the hate, the anger, the fear, and pain had been set free at once and he was drowning in them. "God damnit!" He gasped, and he punched the wall with all the force he had, he saw the blood welling on his knuckles but he barely felt it. He couldn't stop, he needed to do something, to hurt something, to find a way to make this pain stop. He felt his knees give out and he sank to the floor. He looked down at his shaking hands, there was a strange rasping sound he couldn't identify. Suddenly he realized it was him, he was crying. Then she was there. She was in front of him, holding his face in her hands. She pulled him tight against her and held him. It took a few minutes for him to finally calm himself, he pulled away and looked at her.
"I'm not sure where the fuck that came from." He said, feeling mortified. He was a grown man, and he just sobbed in a woman's arms like a baby.
"Aren't you?" She said, "because I think I'm pretty sure I get it."
"Five minutes here and I'm on the floor whining like a bloody child. Some man I am."
She glared at him, and grabbed his face hard with both her hands making him look at her. His pulse quickened at her touch. What the hell was wrong with him? It was as if he had no control over his body, and further more his body had no idea what it wanted.
"Now you listen to me." She said, in her most no nonsense voice, "I don't want to hear another fucking word about you not being a man because of what you're feeling here today. This shit is hard, it's horrific and painful and most people would run as far as they could in the other direction. You're here, you are facing your demons, and closing the chapter and it is one of the bravest things I've ever seen anyone do. I am so damned proud of you Sandor Clegane."
Gods he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to take her in his arms and show her, not just tell her that she was the most beautiful fucking thing that had ever existed or ever would exist. She let go of his face and stood up, she offered him her hand and he stood too. They walked out of the room and continued to walk through the rest of the Keep, the kitchens, the stables and then eventually to the top of the tower. From the top you could see for miles in all directions. Sandor took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs and clear his head. Tess stood next to him, the cool breeze caught a few strands of her hair and they danced around her face. She was so fucking perfect.
"I never could have done this if it weren't for you." He said, "I wouldn't have even made it through the fucking door."
She slipped an arm around his waist and leaned her head against him.
"There's no where else I would ever want to be." She said.
They stood there for another minute and then Tess sighed, and looked up at him.
"You ready to blow this piece of shit off the map?" She asked with a smile.
"Fuck yes." He said.
They went downstairs and Tess went across the room and out the door to bring the cart closer. Sandor made his way back down the hall. There was one more thing he knew he wanted. He wasn't sure why, but he knew it was important to him. He cracked the door to his parents room and braced himself for the smell, it was dark, Gregor had kept the curtains drawn. He walked directly across the room to his parents wardrobe being careful not to look at the bed, which seemed to be where the majority of the heinous smell was coming from. He opened the wardrobe and immediately found what he was looking for, the cloak of their house. It was heavy and bright yellow, patterned with the small running dogs that were the sigil of their house. He remembered his father wearing it when he was a child. He'd once asked him how old he had to be before he could wear it. Gregor had hit him hard and told him he was stupid, that he was the eldest so he would be the one to wear it, and that Sandor would never have it. Well fuck you brother, he thought, it's mine now. He stuffed it into his bag and walked out of the room.
Tess was back. They walked out to the cart and he began unloading the casks of oil and bringing them into the Keep. They spent the better part of three hours lugging them to each room and making sure they coated everything with a thick layer of oil all the while trying to get as little on themselves as possible. Tess was sloshing the contents of the second to last cask across the table and chairs in the main hall.
"Hang on one second." He told her. He picked up one of the empty casks walked over to his fathers chair, he smashed it against the side splintering it the chair to pieces and picked up on of the carved dog heads, putting it into his bag of treasures. Tess poured the oil out the front door and down the steps. Then she walked over to the cart where one barrel still sat.
"Are you ready?" She said. He nodded and climbed into the cart. She tipped the last cask letting the oil spill out over the back. He urged the horses forward moved them down the road leaving a trail of oil behind them. When they had moved what felt like a safe distance distance Sandor stopped the cart. Tess sat the cask back upright and then tipped it into the cart letting the oil fill the bed of it. She dipped an arrow with cloth around the tip into the oil making sure it was saturated. Sandor unhooked the horses from the wagon.
"You're sure the merchant you bought this cart from is fine with us burning it?" He asked.
"I bought the damn thing. What I do with it now is my business." She said.
They walked the horses off the road and up onto a grass knoll that gave them a clear view of the Keep below them. The cart was just visible down the road to their left. Tess got out a flask of water she had and poured some over her hands.
"Here." She said, "make sure there's no oil on your hands." He took the water from her and rinsed his hands thoroughly. She picked up the bow she'd brought from the cart and carefully placed the arrow. She handed it to him and reached into her pocket, drawing out a piece of flint and a stone.
"You sure you can make this shot?" She teased. Sandor snorted.
"Please. I may not be an archer, but I better be able to put one fucking arrow in one fucking cart at this distance." Tess smiled, she hit the stone against the flint making it spark and igniting the tip of the arrow. Sandor drew back the string, trying not to think about how close he was to the flaming tip of the arrow. He was still not comfortable with the idea of all this fire but Tess was right about it being the best way, and she'd planned it carefully to the last detail so he could stay as far away from the fire as possible. He was sure she would have shot the arrow if he'd wanted her to, but in the end she was right about that too. He needed to be the one to do it.
Sandor let the arrow fly and it landed with perfect precision in the bed of the cart, the flames roared up immediately. He flinched back slightly, but it was far enough away that it didn't pose any real threat. They watched as the thin line of fire raced down the road consuming the trail of oil they'd left. It roared to life again when it hit the steps of the Keep obscuring the front door and creeping up the vines. For a few minutes nothing more seemed to happen, but then quite suddenly there was an explosion of sound and heat that ripped through the air making the horses whinny and stamp. All the windows along the side of the keep blew out and fire shot out of the holes engulfing the entirety of the place in flames. After another few minutes of watching the flames Tess turned and smiled at him.
"You did it Sand." She said.
"I did it." He agreed. His head felt light, if he didn't know better he would have sworn he was drunk.
There was another loud crash and they turned in time to see the tower collapse in on itself. Tess laughed and then raised her hands towards the burning mass, making obscene gestures with both.
"This is for you Gregor!" She yelled, "Burn in hell you miserable cunt!"
Sandor laughed, a real true laugh that felt as if it was knitting back together the broken pieces inside him.
"Burn in hell!' He yelled in agreement and matched her obscene gesture with his own as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against him. She laid her head back against his chest and he felt her sigh. She looked up at him.
"Well this is it Sandor. You've officially burned everything it ever meant to be a Clegane to ashes. The only person who gets to decide house Clegane's legacy now is you. What's the plan?"
"For the moment?" He said, 'This." And he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.