A/N: Hello hello, lovely readers! I just want to add to this chapter that it's going to have a lot of arguing in it. And there's most likely going to be more of that in the future. The story I'm trying to tell is really how Sandor and Sansa deal with each other now that they've basically become how they in first instance wanted the other to be. In most cases, like this one, that would be a big slap in the face which you don't just accept in one day. Wishing for something and something becoming real are two different things. So that's what I'm trying to picture here and it's going to need a lot of arguing most likely. If you're expecting them to fall in love and start kissing each other senseless in the next chapter than you're probably reading the wrong fic. Of course I'm still going to make it to that stage some day, and I'll greatly be looking forward to it myself, but before that time I feel there needs to be more fleshing out of our lovely couple and their thoughts behind certain actions.
On a different note, I again want to thank every reviewer out there. And I am horribly sorry for my lack of words. I don't reply much since I just don't know what to say most of the time, but at the same time I feel horribly bad for not replying so I'm going to try and reply more from now on.
And now, let's get on with the show!
She couldn't believe it when she had first heard their voices. It couldn't be could it? But how many other women would come out of a dangerous place like this, all alone? It had to be them. So when she heard the voices again, more clear this time, she decided that it could only be her lost friends and jumped from the saddle without giving it a second thought. Her joy at being reunited with the ones she had thought lost was soon twisted around when her protector had obviously misunderstood the whole situation. And now she watched him angrily walk his warhorse away from her. That man. Would he ever let anyone into his tiny circle of trust? Honestly she hadn't expected to be let into it so soon, but she could've really used it in this situation. It was shameful that he would say these things now that she had finally opened up to him. It flared up something deep inside of her and she felt her own anger stir. Only then did she notice the terribly confused looks from Aila and Mea. A little further off Sandor was making more and more distance between them with his long strides. She felt hopelessly bad to leave their sides if only for just a few moments but she had to set things right with Sandor before it was too late. Giving them an apologetic look she asked them to stay there for just a few moments longer and then strode off in the direction Sandor had taken just before. Her long legs carried her quickly closer to her guard. Her help. She couldn't do this without him.
He was close by now and as she walked as fast as her legs would carry her she obviously made a lot of noise. That seemed to get his attention. His body stirred slightly but he didn't turn to her and instead kept on his angry walk away from her. Her heated temper and her hurried strides were beginning to get her out of breath.
"Stop that!" she shouted at him as she stopped to get some air into her lungs. He stopped, but still didn't turn.
"Stop what?" he growled angrily at her. The fury with which he bit the words at her took her momentarily aback. He sounded just like back in King's Landing. That was all the attention she wanted to give it and she gathered herself and took his halting as the right moment to close the little distance still between them. He did turn then, his eyes sending daggers through her.
"Stop what, little bird," he half spat at her. "Stop my unceremonial behaviour? My unnecessary helping you? My being around you? Because I was just about to do that in case you hadn't noticed just yet." His words were meant to hurt. And they would have done so before. Had done so before. But she was not the spineless bird he still expected her to be. And hadn't been for a long time. Years of imprisonment had taken care of that. Peeling away the soft layers on top to reveal a core that was made in the harsh winters of the North. She would not give in so easily.
She straightened her shoulders and pierced her gaze right back into those hard grey walls.
"Have you heard nothing at all of what I've told you these last few days?" His lips narrowed in a thin line, eyes not giving away in the slightest.
"A distraction for you having to put up with me, that's what I've heard," was his cold reply. Sansa couldn't believe it. Where she had done everything to make things work he just kept sulking in self-pity. Such irony, for one with such a ferocious reputation.
"It's almost funny how you used to call me daft while really it's the other way around," she bit back at him. That stirred something in him as he took a few steps forward and lowered his head so they were almost nose to nose. He was trying to make her back away but she wouldn't give in.
"Don't. Mock. Me." His voice was threatening low. She could feel his breath on her cheeks and did all she could to suppress a shudder.
"Step away," she replied just as slow and cold as him, leaving no room to brook argument. He chuckled low but his eyes still bore daggers into her.
"Look at you. Still the perfect little lady, aren't you, little bird?" He was mocking her right back, trying to break her. The way he had always done before. How many times in King's Landing hadn't been like this? Always he cornered her like this and barked until she had to cry it out in her sleep at night. It angered her to think about it.
"Yes, Sandor, I am a lady. But I am not young and unknowing anymore and you'd do well to remember that."
His snort, as closer to a growl and every fiber of her would've told her to run away from this man if only she wasn't trying to keep him with her.
"Ladies and their manners," he began in a low rasp. "You use me when it fits you and turn your back on me the moment there's a more suitable option. Is that what highborn ladies do? Well thank you for reminding me of my place, my lady." he was almost like a predator closing in on its prey, the way he was half bended over her. She had to arch her back to keep looking him in the eye. Keeping control was getting harder and harder. But she knew how this game was played by now so she pressed back.
"When you found me I begged you to keep me safe. Do you really think, that if in your eyes I'm still such a lady, that I would've begged just anyone, Sandor? I lowered myself for you, to let you in. But you, you insufferable stubborn man, you throw it right back at me." If he thought he could still take advantage of her like this then he was desperately wrong. By his silence she knew he understood that now. She would win this round, she knew his weakness after all. She raised her hand and hesitated a moment, curling her finger into her palm, but Sandor made no movement and kept silent. Still taken aback by her fierce performance from just now. This was the only moment she could do this. Slowly she raised her hand and let it rest on his shoulder. She didn't cup his cheek like she had done the last time, when the fire had burned a vivid green. It might scare him away and as opposed to him she actually wanted him to stay. He stiffened underneath the touch, just as she had predicted. She made sure to keep looking him in the eye as she spoke. "I'm sorry I ran off like that. I shouldn't have done it and it won't happen again. But neither should you react the way you just did. I know the years have been hard on you Sandor. I've seen you limping and I won't pretend to know what your life must have been like after you left King's Landing." She softened her voice along the way. "But by now we've all had our fair share of war. And we all have to deal with it. You might mock me for a little bird. And I was, back in King's Landing. Maybe I am still learning how to fly at this very moment. But that's it, isn't it? I have learned to fly for as much as my wings will carry me. However small and fragile little birds may be, I've already crossed that distance. And you?" His shifted and cast his eyes downwards, but she reassured him. "I know you have. Or you would've never backed away the way you did when we came face to face. So please, Sandor. Don't crawl back. Stay with me. Show the world you're not a coward or a brute the way they think you are. Show them the man you are. But most of all show me the man I know you are."
She felt him slightly tremble beneath her hand. Relief washed over her as she realized she had won. This time at least. He would need to get control of himself and this wasn't likely to be the last argument they would have. She wasn't exactly proud of what she had done just now. Having experienced the feeling herself multiple times herself, she knew how belittling it felt. And he had been the cause of some of them. Yet at the same time she had always taken part of that as a lesson. Don't waver. Look the other in the eye. The truth is always harder than the lie. And that was what made her act the way she had just now towards Sandor.
Where his lowered head had meant an act of defiance before it was now a sign of defeat. The silence embraced them like a cold winter's rain. She knew he was desperately trying to find words, but couldn't find any. She could spare him that at least.
"A bird can't fly without a sense of direction," she started softly. And this time her hand did go to his face as if on its own. She gently cupped the scarred side of his cheek and raised it so their eyes met once again. The anger had disappeared from them but hurt had taken its place. Her insides clenched at the damage she had inflicted. The control to bend someone to your will always came at a price. It felt horrible. Guilt washed over her in hot waves, burning away the resistance she had shown only moments before. She didn't want anyone to feel like this. And suddenly she couldn't remember why she had taken this approach with him at all. Had she become so much like Cersei during her stay at the Vale? She felt so afraid all of a sudden. All her plans were smashed in her face. All her lessons to rule with love crushed in King's Landing and the Vale. She had forgotten them. Forgotten how it felt to trust someone based on love. Forgotten how to be Sansa Stark. Just like Sandor had forgotten to be the man he had once wanted to be. She was such a fool to have been manipulated like that.
She felt so cold, so empty, until suddenly she felt a warm hand envelope hers. His big hands gently drawing hers away from where it still rested against his face. He brought them to rest in between their bodies, against his chest. Only then did she notice how much she had been trembling. And then he crushed her against him. And she felt the tears that had already been crawling down her face.
"It will be alright," he whispered in her hair. His voice filled with something she couldn't quite place. "I won't leave you, Sansa."