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CHAPTER 12

SANSA

That was her first night in the North since she left Winterfell years ago. So many things had happened to her since then…she knew she was still in danger but in spite of all that, she couldn't help feeling happy to be there again. She now knew the name of the trees that surrounded them and also recognized the smell of the forest, of the grass—it was the smell of her childhood and that realm was the only home she had ever had.

They had stopped to camp as far from Moat Cailin as Sandor Clegane could withstand riding. He was pale again and seemed exhausted, but his cut had barely bled during the day and he wasn't as fevered as the days before. He didn't even need her help. Sansa sat to rest and watched him while he cleaned the wound and changed the fabric. Instinctively, she put her fingers to her mouth. She hadn't thought about it during the day, but she could still feel his kiss on her lips. She seemed to remember his previous kiss, the one he gave her the night of the Blackwater Battle, but this one had nothing to do with her memories, in fact, it had nothing to do with any other kisses she had received from Tyrion, Littlefinger or Sweetrobin. She didn't know what drove him to do it; maybe it was because of the fever but...despite the pain, the scars, and the blood it had been something unexpected but warm, something that had given her quite a thrill. She hadn't even thought about it when she huddled against him; it was like a natural movement, something that her body just felt like doing. She didn't know for how long he was holding her. The only thing she was now really aware was that over there, between his arms and his body, listening at his heartbeat, was the only place in the whole Realm where she felt safe and sound. But she tossed those thoughts aside; that wasn't the time to think of kisses or romanticism. For the time being there were real problems to be worried about until they reached a safe place.

He was resting now, eyes closed, leaned on a tree trunk. She rose to look for something to eat in the rucksack and prepared a simple dinner for them both.

"Do you think we can go to Winterfell?" she asked.

"If Bolton's bastard is really there now, he'll throw you right back in Cersei's lap. Boltons, Freys and Lannisters became very close after the Red Wedding and…" he shook his head looking away from her,"that was something even I couldn't withstand…"

"Were you there when it happened? Did you see my family?"

"Believe me; you don't want to know what I saw… that was a butchery…"

Sansa remembered her brother Robb, sadly. Once she'd thought he was going to rescue her, kill all the Lannisters and take her back to Winterfell, but he was murdered and so was her mother and she had to stay hostage in Kings Landing indefinitely.

"So, what are we going to do from now on?"

"Same as before, try to avoid meeting people, especially soldiers. I don't know what houses have joined Roose Bolton nor what is really happening here," He looked at her "I think you shouldn't reveal to anyone who you really are until we meet that brother of yours. Although there should be someone still loyal to your father here, we can't take the risk to end up in the wrong side. The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch shouldn't take part in politics, so is safer that way."

She nodded; if he thought so, then that should be the best way. "Now let me rest, this wound is still killing me," he growled.

She took her cloak and blanket and lay to sleep. She had almost fallen asleep when she heard him saying "That thing with the bracelet you did today… it was a smart move." She smiled at his compliment, proud for being helpful. "I still have some more jewels," He was only a hulking shadow in the dark now: "Fine, we might need them."

The next days passed surprisingly quietly. They traveled following the Kings Road but far enough from it to not be seen. That was the quickest way to the Wall and they didn't want to get lost into the deep northern woods. Furthermore, days were getting colder and the sky was gray most of the time; it was going to snow at any moment. Soon their night fire wouldn't be enough to warm them from the chill.

During those days she thought a lot about Brienne. She wondered what had become of her. Had she managed to reach Jaime Lannister? Would she be happy being next to him once she had finished her quest? She didn't know for sure what had really happened between the two of them; although Sansa didn't understand why, it seemed Brienne felt a strong bond with him. She didn't care about it as long as the Lannisters and the Gold Cloaks left them alone.

Their days were simple: they didn't talk too much but sat for having lunch at noon and lay to rest at down. His cut was also getting better every day and he hadn't had fever since a few days ago. Even though every day was similar to the one before, she realized she was beginning to enjoy their little routine.

That day they had stopped in a small clearing not very far from the main road. The horses were grazing, and everything was calm and quiet as they were chewing some cheese with the last hard bread remaining from the inn. Soon he would have to hunt again or they would starve.

Sansa touched her face where the man had punched her and winced.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked with his mouth full of bread.

"A little. How is it?"

He shrugged and cleaned his mouth with the back of the hand, "It's vanishing; now only half of your face is still yellowish," he mocked her. She frowned at him and had already opened her mouth to complain when he suddenly waved a hand at her and became alert: "Shhhhh! Do you hear that?" he asked

"I don't hear anything…" she said, trying to listen.

Sandor leaned his head forward; eyes closed, and listened carefully: "Horses. Plenty of them. Come on, let's move!" He gripped her wrist pulling her quickly to the bushes that were a few steps away and she stumbled several times trying to follow him. He had already drawn his sword when they huddled behind the deep shrub,.

"They should be northmen, maybe they can be our allies…" she tried to explain to him.

"I'm sorry girl, but I think you no longer have allies here. Now shut up!" He pressed her to him and covered her mouth with a huge hand. She tried to protest but then she also heard it distinctly: the unmistakable sound of horse's hooves. A few moments later they could also see them from their hiding place. She began to panic as soon as she saw their banners: the two blue towers of House Frey and the red flayed man of House Bolton. She could also recognize the flags of other northern houses riding with them: the two rusted longaxes of House Dustin, some men from House Umber and others from House Glover. It was a large column of about a hundred men on horseback fully armed coming from the south. Clegane kept his hand over her mouth the whole time so she could barely breathe, but she felt his body against hers, tense. Once the column had passed by, he removed his hand and she could take a deep breath.

"They were riding to Winterfell, weren't they?"

"Maybe. We should ride farther from the road; that way isn't safe anymore," he said "Now let's go find the horses."

They rose and walked again to the clearing; their horses were still there, but so was a Frey soldier on horseback that was already holding the bridles of their horses. He must have delayed from the column of soldiers who had just passed.

"Seven hells!" Sandor cursed

Sansa gasped scared and gripped Sandor's arm.

"Good horses!" the man said

"Let them go!" Sandor rasped out, still holding his sword.

"Thought they were alone. Anyway, I need them. Thank you for the present! Hahahaha," The man laughed and tried to ride to the main road pulling from the bridles of the animals. But stealing Stranger wasn't that easy; the horse whinnied and stood on two legs, scaring the soldier's mount. He was taken by surprise and dropped the bridle letting them go.

"Go take the horses!" he yelled at her, "if something happens to me, just mount on yours and run as fast as possible from here!"

Sandor ran toward the soldier, grabbed his saddle and gave him a strong blow with his sword. The man managed to stop it but the movement made him fall to the ground. The horse ran away scared by the fight and the swords clashed again. Sansa stood a few steps away; she had grabbed the horses' bridles and was trying to calm them as she worriedly watched the Frey man go to hit Sandor on his shoulder, making him bleed. Despite the new wound, Sandor managed to corner him against a tree. The soldier was sweating heavily and could barely withstand the blows. It was easy then for Clegane to impale him with two more quick movements.

Sansa hurried to check on him but he was already looking into the man's pockets.

"Are you going to rob him?" she asked disgusted.

"Why not? He won't need it anymore and his sword is better than mine. And we'll need both," he finally found a little pouch and keep it. "Now let's run before someone misses that vermin."

While they rode again into the wood, Sansa felt very tired. Tired of always hiding and running, and tired of the kind of people they had to deal with. There was always someone who wanted to rob them, or rape her or win a reward. Everybody they met tried to take advantage of her in a way or another. There was a time when I thought the world to be a nice place, where knights protected the women and the weak, but not anymore.

They stopped to camp a couple of hours later. "Seven bloody hells!" she heard him cursing. She looked at him; Sandor's shoulder was bleeding from the new wound and some of the stitches of his side cut were open again. They were already out of wine so she just took some water and went to check on him.

"This was the sixth man I kill since I met you at the Isle. You're expensive, girl," he rasped coldly.

She blinked and tried to answer, but there really was nothing she could say: it was true; she was causing him to spill too much blood. Sandor stood in front of her holding her gaze. He was a man to be feared: deadly as a blade, skilled in combat, so tall and strong that he had survived many deadly injuries… he could earn a lot of money working for a great House, but instead he'd chosen to protect her from an uncertain fate. Suddenly a warm wave of gratitude swept over her. But deep inside that feeling there was something more, something still unnamed but strong that she was now beginning to understand. Something that had made her skin shiver every time his rough hands had brushed against her.

"I know." she just say. "You were right; the world is awful. But I'm glad to have you next to me every day keeping me alive. It may not mean very much but you are the only one I could really trust in years and I wish I could at least eventually return you a bit of what you're doing for me."

He stared at her, his hand covering the wound in his side, and nodded slowly. "Now, please, let me help you or those cuts will never heal properly".

He sat against a tree trunk and let her clean and wrap them carefully with a clean bandage, then Sansa sat next to him, resting her head on his good shoulder. It was getting dark and she shivered with cold so he put his arm around her shoulders and she huddled against him.

"I'm just a dog, little bird; it's our job to keep people safe." He muttered against her crown.

What a stupid thing, she thought; he's a man, a strong, fierce and brave one. Only maybe few people have treated him that way so far. Still leaning on his shoulder she turned her face to look at him. "Stop saying that, you are not a dog to me."

He raised his hand to touch her hair. It was now a mess, all tangled and knotted, but he stroked it carefully. Trusting, she closed the eyes and felt how he cupped her cheek—it completely fit in his big hand. When a moment later she felt his kiss she opened her mouth to him and received it as something that should have happened eventually. He held her tight; one hand at her back and the other at her neck, kissing her carefully and slowly; enjoying having her lips between his. She kissed him back in a way so natural that it surprised her. This new feeling soothed her. He deepened the kiss and she let him tangle his tongue with hers and then she held his lower lip between hers. Sansa felt him moan into her mouth, very very low. He separated his mouth from hers just to bite slightly at her neck instead….her body shivered under his mouth and she grabbed instinctively his chest. One of his hands stroked gentle her back and the other one firmly held her head. She could feel him now in every inch of her body, from her head to her feet. That's it, she realized, that's what happens when someone you like wants you; your body responds instinctively to his. She breathed deeply and after a while he stopped and looked at her: "This is wrong, little bird… you don't need to do that…"

She brushed a strand of black thick hair from his cheek. "We are alone and may be dead by tomorrow, who cares now what it's right or wrong"

"You deserve better than me, you're a highborn lady..." he muttered. There was bitterness in his voice, but she sighed, feeling suddenly very tired "I'm tired of it. I'm just a woman who needs to be cared and cuddled for someone who doesn't want her for her title." He pressed her tight to him and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, simply feeling the warmth of being held. And it was there, buried into his arms when she realized that was all she ever really wanted.