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CHAPTER 15

SANSA / SANDOR

"What do you want from me?" a deep voice asked behind them.

Sansa froze and looked up at Sandor. He nodded, That's what you wanted, remember? his eyes were telling. She finally found the strength to turn around and face him. Jon stood in front of them, dressed in black and flanked on both sides by two men of the Night's Watch. She looked into his eyes and waited, allowing him enough time so he could recognize her.

Jon wasn't the child she remembered from Winterfell, anymore; he had become a tall and strong man, with dark brown hair and grey eyes so dark they border on black. He had changed but he still had the traditional Stark features—a long, solemn and guarded face that gave nothing away. Although an ugly scar crossed his eye from the forehead to the check, his visage was like their father's and Arya's—the face of the people she loved. Sansa shivered, overwhelmed by memories and feelings, trying to contain the tears in her own eyes.

Jon stared at her firmly until, little by little, a trace of recognition appeared in his eyes.

"Sansa, is that you?" he murmured.

She nodded slowly, frightened and happy at the same time.

"But… what are you doing here? How did you travel so far alone? Are you all right?" at that moment his eyes went from hers to Sandor's, and he frowned.

"Yes, I..." Sansa followed his gaze and understood then, but it was too late.

"I know you, Hound," Jon's said with harder voice "You were Joffrey's sworn shield. We heard you went craven." he smiled ironically "Aye, even a bit late, news reached here too. So what's a Lannister dog doing with her so far from his masters?"

Sandor snorted but didn't say a word yet.

"Have you kidnapped her? Because if you are trying to get some kind of ransom, you've come to the wrong place!" he growled.

"What? No, he's helping me…" she tried to explain stepping in front of them, but none of them were listening any longer.

"Bugger you, boy!" Sandor snarled behind her.

"I may be a boy; but I can have you arrested by my men, dog!" Jon's companions stepped forward drawing their swords.

"NO! Please stop!" Sansa yelled standing between the two men and raising her arms. "Jon, please, he's with me because I asked him to help me to reach the Wall." Jon looked confused at her. "I flew from Kings Landing. Then I was in the Eyre, but I ran away from there too and since then we've been travelling to here for a long time…"

"What for? What do you want?"

"To ask for your protection," Sansa simply answered. But the Lord Commander wasn't so easy to convince. He frowned:

"A raven carried the message that you and Tyrion Lannister had killed King Joffrey. I don't know if I should protect you…"

"I didn't kill him, nor did Tyrion. Please Jon, I'm begging you. Let's us stay and rest for a few nights at least. You are the only family I have left and I… I don't have anywhere else to go…" Her voice broke; she was about to cry.

Jon's attitude seemed to soften a little. "All right, Sansa. You can stay a few days. But he's a Lannister man, he has to leave."

"No," she stated with a firm voice. "Sandor Clegane is with me. If he leaves, I'll leave too." Sandor lay a hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry, girl. You're safe now. I'm leaving." She shook stubbornly her head, "No. We both stay or I'll go with you."

Jon hesitated for a moment. "Fine, stay. But if you make any trouble or I have any complaint about you, I'll kick your dog ass from here. Grenn, Pyp, arrange two cells for them in Hardin's Tower. If anyone asks, just tell they are simple travellers asking for a place to pass by the night. I don't want this to get King Stannis' ears before I could talk to him." The two black brothers ran to fulfil the orders they were given. "Now you two came with me," Jon said to them. "Let's make a visit to Three-Finger Hobb's kitchen. I bet you are starving."

The Night's Watch's kitchen was as austere as the rest of buildings of Castle Black, though the big fire warmed the place and the smell of whatever Hobbs was cooking made them salivate. They sat at a small table at a corner of the room while Jon talked with the cook and then took a seat in front of them. Some minutes later, Hobb came with two big bowls of stew, with onions, carrots, vegetables and plenty of meat, and two big ale mugs. They ate greedily, without taking into account any good manner. Sansa ate until her stomach ached – no meal had ever been so delicious for her in her whole life, and Sandor asked for another once he'd finished.

"For the old gods!" Jon exclaimed "When did you eat properly for the last time?"

"I don't know… long ago," Sansa said, "I guess it was when my mare died and we had to eat her meat." She looked at Sandor and he shrugged. "Then it snowed and there wasn't much hunting in the forest..."

Jon blinked in astonishment. "Did you really survive the last snowfall all by yourselves in the middle of the wood? It was a hard one; even some on my men had to retreat back to Castle Black when it started! I'm really surprised you did it."

"I almost didn't, I fell sick. But here I am now" She smiled slightly to Sandor as she remember how he took care of her and that look didn't go unnoticed for Jon.

"You really are a North's daughter, aren't you?" he said in amusement. "Now tell me what happened to you to run with so many risks to get here". Jon leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Clegane, maybe you should leave now."

"It isn't necessary, Jon. He can listen to whatever I may tell you. In fact, he already knows most of it," Jon frowned, though didn't complaint; his curiosity was stronger.

"I guess it all began the day King Robert came to Winterfell. I thought that was the beginning of my life, but it was really the end…" Then Sansa told him everything, from the beginning, all the incidents and feelings she had kept inside her heart for so long. She told him about the journey to Kings Landing, the lies of Joffrey and the death of Lady. How the Lannisters butchered their guards at the Red Keep and how they killed their father. About Cercei and the Tyrells and about Joffrey and the beatings of the king's guard. At that point, Jon set his jaw and Sandor tensed on his seat, clenching his fists and looking away. She put a hand over his fist and shook her head. No. There was nothing you could have done; she tried to tell him with her gaze.

When she recalled how she was forced to marry Tyrion, she realized she didn't feel anything at all in that moment, neither for him. He was no one in her life, and she didn't feel like a wedded woman. Then she told how she escaped from Kings Landing, about Littlefinger and her aunt Lysa, and Dareon and the new wedding with Harry the Heir. She told them about Petyr's kisses and groping and how he even tried to get into her bed several times. Sandor didn't know that part, she had never talked about it, and she felt how his body tensed. Sansa remembered also with affection how Brienne came in the right moment to help her and how they ended up in the Quiet Isle with the Hound, and then the rest of their journey together until that day.

Jon listened attentively in silence, barely asking until the end of her story. "You knew all that, Clegane?" he asked then.

"Most. Now you know why you should help her, boy."

Jon nodded thoughtful, "Could you please leave us alone now for a moment? I'd like to talk to my sister in privacy." Sandor looked at her for her approval before leaving "I'll be outside," he said.

Once alone, Jon sat beside her. His face was still serious. What did you expect? Having a tearful reunion after so many years? He barely knows you now, Sansa thought bitterly.

"Do you really trust this man so much, Sansa?"

"I do. And I hope now you understand why. He's the only person who hasn't wanted anything from me in years."

"I'd like to help you Sansa, but the situation at The Wall right now is… complicated. As you saw when you arrived, we made a deal with the wildings and they are now occupying part of the Castle. Stannis Baratheon is here too, it's a long story but I'm not sure what is he going to say about your stay here. He is a very straight man and in the end, you are a Lannister for him. You are accused of killing his nephew."

"I understand" Sansa looked sadly at her lap and kept silent. "I miss them," she said softly after a while.

"Who?"

"Father. Brann, Robb, Rickon, Arya. My mother. Old Nan, Mikken, Jory, Jeyne… I miss them all. All the people I loved are dead or disappeared… I know we weren't very close when we were kids, but I've missed you too, Jon. We are all that remains from the Winterfell we knew in our childhood…"

Finally, uncontrollable tears fall from her eyes. They came from a very deep sadness, a sadness beyond the pain, the cold and the hard days. It was a sorrow for the happy time already lost, for the untold words, for the beloved people that were gone. Jon passed his arm around her shoulders and pressed her to him. He felt sad too for the people they both loved and they wouldn't ever see again, for Sansa and for the revenge he wouldn't be allowed to hold against the Lannisters for all the pain they've caused for their family. They remained that way for some time, until Grenn came into the kitchen and they separated.

"Excuse me, Lord Commander. Their rooms are ready."

Sandor waited outside leaning on the wall and he walked toward her as soon as he saw them leaving the kitchen. Suddenly, a huge white wolf came running through the Castle to where they were, scaring some men.

"Ghost!" Sansa gasped. The wolf walked in silence to her and sniffed her for a moment before licking her hand. She knelt to caress him, "You are so big… I guess Lady would have been as big as you…" she whispered. Then the wolf sniffed at Sandor too and after the man scratched his neck, he went to stand beside Jon. He seemed surprised, "Well, it seems he likes you two! That's good news, I think. Now, go have some rest. Grenn will guide you to your cells, but don't leave them until I call for you. I want to deal some issues with King Stannis first before he meets you. I'll see you tomorrow." Jon said before leaving followed by Ghost.

Grenn lead them to Hardin's Tower, where the stewards had prepared two separate cells on the second floor. "This's yours, my Lady. I'm sorry we couldn't offer you anything better for now," Sansa looked over the place; it wasn't big, but it was comfortable enough for her after so many weeks sleeping in the forest. It had a thick cot at the bottom, some rustic furniture, a hearth that warmed the room and, best of all, a bathtub. "I've commanded to one of the stewards to come as soon as possible with hot water."

"Thank you for everything, Grenn. This is much better than I could have expected," Sansa said gently. The boy blushed and went red like an apple when she smiled at him. Sandor snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yours is that one at the end of the corridor Ser," he stammered avoiding looking at Sansa again.

"I'm not Ser, boy. Don't call me that again," he grunted.

The boy looked at his feet and added "I notice that you have very little luggage and your dress is threadbare so… I wonder if you'd like new cloths… maybe I could get something for you."

"Please, that will be very nice of you. I'm afraid I don't have the proper garments to meet anyone. I guess my companion will need a new tunic and breeches too."

"I'll see what I could find, my Lady. Good night," He bowed his head and left, leaving them alone in the hallway.

Sandor laughed, "Seven hells! Poor boy, he just had a crush on you". Sansa blushed too. "Don't mock him. He's just trying to help. And I long for a bath and a clean dress…"

"Hope that water doesn't take long. I need that bath too," He looked at her and for a moment it seemed he wanted to add something more but he didn't. "Get some rest girl." He finally said before walking to his cell.

"Sandor," she called when he was about to enter the room. "Do not go. Please."

He looked back at her frowning. "Promise me that you will be here tomorrow, that you won't leave during the night." she said looking straight at him. He nodded and then closed the door behind him.

A black brother brought hot water for the bath some minutes later. Sansa undressed and threw all her cloths to a corner of the room before getting into the bathtub. The water was so hot it burnt. She closed her eyes and rested lazily in the water for a while before washing her hair and rubbing her skin so hard it ached; though, actually, she enjoyed the pleasure of feeling clean again. When the water began to get cold she came out of the bath and sat in front of the fire to dry herself, and then she brushed her hair thoroughly; freeing it from all the knots that had been done in it during the long days travelling.

The cot was as comfortable as a featherbed and she felt relaxed and calm under the thick fur blankets. That was the first night in months she could sleep for long; without caring for the cold, the hunger or fearing what was going to happen on the morrow. Jon would try to help her and at least they'll have a safe place for some days. That was much more that she would have wished days ago. She crouched on the side of the bed and unconsciously felt a thrill on her back. He wasn't there anymore. She was sleeping alone again, without his strong arms holding her and his body keeping her warm and suddenly she felt that solitude as a heavy burden. She thought of him, resting now in the other room. Would he feel lonely too or would he feel relieved of not having to take care of her again instead?

Does he miss me too?

Sandor looked at the ceiling. He'd had a bath and he was now lying naked on his bed, letting the heat from the fire dry and warm up his body. It had been a hard long day, but finally they were at the Wall, where she was safe, at least for a while. He didn't like the Lord Commander, he was a sharp man, as was his father, but he'll try to help her and that was the only thing that mattered to him. He ran his fingers over his chest to his side and touched for the thousandth time the scar caused by her stitches. It was true he'd thought of leaving the Castle during the night, leaving her safe with her brother. He didn't want to be where he wasn't welcome, but somehow she had known. How could she read him so damn right? He thought of her looking at him from the door of her cell, asking him to stay. He couldn't leave; he was tied up by her words. Do not go... He stretched out his arm to the other side of the bed, but her absence made a hollow in the cot. Don't be stupid, dog; she won't be sleeping with you anymore. You were lucky to have her for a few nights. But the truth doesn't make it easier. Would she be relieved by not having to sleep next to him again?

He looked back on the days spent together at the wood; the men he'd killed, the nights huddled under their cloaks, the cold, the hunger, the long days she was about to die. He also recalled her sewing the wound, her hands touching his skin while making the bandages, her bright smile the first time it snowed, her cheek over his hand, her lips again his, her tongue tangled with his, her moaning in his own mouth, the pressure and warmth of her slim body against him those last nights… Now, alone in that small cell at the end of the world he finally released his desire and let his excitement grow as he closed his eyes and lowered his hand down his body to touch himself eagerly and freely; feeling as it had been yesterday how she surrendered to him without reservations. I'm just a woman, she'd said to him that night. And he was just a man; a man who also needed a woman and who already missed her so badly that it hurt.