Game of Thrones: Tragedy and Reunions

Next chapter of my Game of Thrones story, enjoy.

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Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R. R. Martin

Sansa

Sansa looked around cautiously, making sure she was still hidden by the trees. The Kingsroad appeared deserted. However that didn't mean it was; if it was easy enough for her to hide, then it was surely a lot easier for more dangerous people to hide. She sighed and shook her head.

"If we're to make it to Robb's camp...We'll have to cross over the road at some point." She announced to her companion.

She glanced back at him as he replied in his raspy voice. "Aye, but now's not the time, we're still fine where we are."

She turned around to face him. Sandor Clegane sat with his back against a rock; as far from the campfire as possible. The burned side of his face looked even more haggard in the light of the flames. She walked over and sat down opposite him; the fire between them. She exhaled heavily before thinking back.

Shortly after she returned to her room during the Battle of Blackwater; she had found him there; the Hound, Sandor Clegane. She had been terrified yet when he announced he was leaving and heading north, and offered to take her home, her heart skipped a beat. She had hesitated, fearful of him, but then accepted his offer and he had smuggled her out of King's Landing before the battle was even over. They had journeyed ever since, taking meandering routes and crossing through and up streams in order to throw off any possible pursuit. It was only recently they had arrived here, with the Kingsroad in sight.

She shuddered, and not because it was cold; throughout the escape, and even now, she felt light headed and even had a strange buzzing sensation in her limbs. She knew what she was doing was dangerous, yet it felt strangely exciting, perhaps because of that.

'Is this how Bran felt whenever he climbed the towers back home?' She wondered, she remembered him talking about it once before, it definitely sounded similar. 'Arya supposedly felt like this too; whenever she did something she wasn't supposed to.'

She shifted uncomfortably as her mind wandered to her family. She knew her father was gone, never coming back, but the others...her mother, Robb, Bran, Rickon, even Arya and Jon; she missed them all.

'We'll find them...I know we will.' She promised herself. 'We're going to find Robb and mother right now. I just wish I knew what happened to the others. Jon is at the Wall, but the whereabouts of the others are unknown...even to someone like Varys.'

Sandor seemed to notice her silence and preoccupation; there was a brief pause before he spoke.

"What are you thinking?" He asked.

Sansa jumped but then relaxed. "I was thinking about my family...I just wish I knew where they all were. All we know is that my half-brother is at the Wall and that Robb and my mother were last seen near the Twins."

Sandor did not reply, but the look on his face said it all; and it was surprising. Pity, that was what she saw in his face, he actually pitied her.

It was a restless night but she was able to get some sleep. A wonder in fact; they had hardly stopped since they had fled King's Landing. When Sansa felt she could go no further Sandor had picked her up and carried her until finally even he had to stop. Now, with the sun rising Sandor insisted they press on.

"The longer we delay here, the less likely we are to find your brother at his camp." He explained. "We best hurry."

She agreed and, despite still feeling weary, helped ensure the fire was completely out and followed him as they travelled through the forest. Sandor kept his sword drawn as they went; they did not dare venture onto the Kingsroad, but still kept it in sight as they pressed on. They soon faced their first real problem however; the food that had was running low and they would soon need more, and fresher food too. Sandor scowled at the thought. He knew the dangers this posed to them.

"Well, seems we're at a difficult situation, little bird." He told her. "Either we keep going and risk starvation, or we risk getting captured and returned to the Queen. With our food this low and the Queen after our heads, going into town is both necessary and foolish."

Sansa nodded, he was right. They could either starve, or risk being recognised buying supplies in the next village (and handed off to the Queen, who would not welcome them back with open arms). They had stopped next to a river with a small holdfast just ahead. Sansa, by chance, glanced at the river and noted her reflection. The near constant travel and sleepless nights had left her looking dishevelled; knowing that she wasn't going to be travelling in luxury, she was clad in her plainest dress.

Thanks to their travels the dress was stained and looking more like it belonged to a girl of low birth; her hair was tangled and a mess, dark shadows were present under her eyes.

An idea then struck and she smiled.

"I think I know a way we can get food." She stated, "If I can disguise myself, people are more likely to overlook me; then I can get what we need."

Sandor grunted. "If you do, you're going alone; there's no way to disguise this." He gestured to his burned face, "I won't be able to protect you."

Sansa nodded, ignoring the nervous fluttering in the pit of her stomach, and forced herself to be brave. "I'll be fine."

Sandor finally relented and they worked quickly, using river mud to cover her hands and some of her face. They also ran mud through her hair, dulling its colour; making her blue eyes her only defining Tully trait visible. She checked her reflection again, she barely recognized herself.

'I just hope nobody else will.' She thought as she took the money needed and headed into the holdfast; Sandor remained in the forest; staying out of sight. Sansa entered the holdfast, she saw the market square up ahead and headed that way, hoping that her plan worked. She would have to be careful and come up with some excuse for the money. Her appearance was that of a low born girl, therefore, carrying around this much money might make people suspicious. However she still had to try; she could only pray that she was successful.

As she walked she almost bumped into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She said; the person smiled, it was a young man, a year or two older than her.

"It's fine." He replied. "Not the first time a beautiful young maid has nearly ran into me."

Sansa blushed but didn't reply, she couldn't think of one. Instead she gestured to the market. "I'm sorry I must go, I need to get food for my journey north."

The young man looked at her surprised.

"Are you travelling alone?" He asked, Sansa quickly thought up a reasonable lie.

"No, I'm with my uncle; he's just outside the town." Nobody would believe the Hound was her father, but he probably could pass off as her uncle. "He has a bad leg so he decided to wait for me outside."

The man gave a good natured laugh. "My, you are very dutiful, aren't you?"

Sansa smiled and then the man smiled wider.

"I could help you with your purchases, if you wish."

Sansa couldn't think of a polite way to turn him down, so she accepted, although she was nervous, something could go horribly wrong here if she wasn't careful. She followed the young man, who introduced himself as the son of a minor lordling, into the market, keeping a wary eye on him.

Sandor drained the last of the wine from his wineskin and heaved a heavy sigh. He glanced up; the sun was now high in the sky. He was starting to think maybe he shouldn't have let Sansa go alone. Just then he heard her voice.

"Look, thank you, you've helped me greatly." She was saying to someone. "But really, I will be fine on my own now."

"Come now, you said your uncle has a bad leg. It would be impolite of me to make you carry all this back to him alone." A male voice replied.

Sandor narrowed his eyes; it was clear to him that the 'uncle' they were referring to was him. He silently congratulated her on coming up with a good lie for once before moving quietly to see what was happening. He saw her, she was holding two packs, both containing their supplies. The young man had the look of a lord about him, he was carrying two more packs but refused to let go. Sansa tried to take them but suddenly all four packs tumbled to the ground as he grabbed her arms.

"Let me go." She said, desperation creeping into her voice.

The man simply smiled and replied. "You're rather beautiful for a common girl. Come now, I helped you; no reward for me?"

Sansa struggled in his grip as he suddenly became more forceful. She managed to get a hand free and slapped the man across the face; he let go of her and he was sent reeling. He recovered and turned to her glaring.

Just before he could advance on her Sandor stepped out.

"That's enough of that." He rasped, glaring at the young man.

The colour drained from the young man's face as he saw Sandor and he backed off.

"You...You're..." He stammered. Sandor finished the sentence for him.

"This girl's uncle and the one who is only going to spare your life, if you start running now."

Without even a moment's hesitation the young man turned and fled.

"Thank you." Sansa said, "But you let him go, if he tells someone, the Queen..."

"I know, we have to get moving, let's go." He replied as he picked up the packs.

Sansa nodded and together they continued onwards; hoping that they would stay ahead of anybody who would be after them in order to earn the Queen's favour.

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.