Chapter One

She sucked her tender lower lip and winced at the pain. Ser Merryn had hit her again today. She did not know why she kept saying things to anger Joff, why she could not keep her thoughts to herself. She was a good girl, an obedient girl. She should know better.

The Hound had pulled her to her feet yet again after Joff and the others left. This time he had said nothing. No advice on how she should save herself some trouble and give Joff what he wanted. He had simply walked away, leaving her alone in the courtyard.

She had watched his retreating back, his flowing white cloak, and dark hair. It wounded more than she expected that he did not even acknowledge her this time, did not even try to wipe away the salty blood leaking into her mouth. Was even the Hound coming to think of Joff punishing her as something common, something routine?

She raised her chin to look at the heart tree of Kings Landing. It was a gnarled old oak, tall and with weary twisted limbs stretching high into the sky. But it had no face, and she missed the wise, sad old weirwood of Winterfell.

Her Florian was sitting on the ground beside her, playing with a lock of her long hair. "Ser Dontos, please tell me when we can leave this place," she said to him. "I do not know how much longer I can take this."

"Do not give up hope, my sweet lady! Be brave for me. Now is not the time, but soon." He picked up her limp hand from her lap and kissed it. It was a moist kiss and she thought she felt a hint of his tongue on her skin, but she kept her face still. He suddenly dropped her hand and looked to the side.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Hush, my lady," he said. "There is someone here."

She stood up slowly, listening. Ser Dontos had moved close to her and had placed his arm around her waist. She could hear his ragged breathing, could smell the sour stench of his breath and his sweat. She kept her own breathing steady and then she finally heard it. A splashing of water.

"Someone is taking a swim to cool off, Ser Dontos," she said, pushing him away from her gently. "There was no need to frighten me so." The past week had been the hottest she had experienced in her young life. Even at night she twisted and turned in her bed. Sometimes she awoke with her sheets tangling her limbs, suffocating her, making her scream in anguish and despair for the crisp nights of Winterfell.

Ser Dontos sniffed and looked left and right, his eyes anxious. "We should go see who it is. We may not be able to meet here again after today."

Through the tangled growth they made their way towards the back of the godswood where a small clear pool lay hidden. Sansa liked to soak her feet in the cool water now and then as she practiced singing her songs. She had not been there for weeks now but it still saddened her that someone else had discovered her secret place.

Together they peered through the thickets and saw clothing strewn beside the pond. A snowy white cloak was thrown carelessly upon soot grey armor. But it was not until she saw his dark hair and shoulders rise out of the water did she begin to panic. "Ser Dontos," she whispered urgently. "You have to leave. The Hound cannot find us here together."

"Farewell my sweet lady," said her Florian, in a jittery haste to leave. "I will try to send you a message soon."

She watched the fat knight leave, nay, run away, and pondered her fate sadly. Then she thought of what to do. She was loath to return to her rooms when she could spend an hour or two in the godswood.

Perhaps the Hound will leave soon and I can come out of hiding.

She peered back towards the pond but he was no longer there. She gasped when she felt a hand clamp onto her arm and roughly turn her around.

The Hound, dripping and shirtless and with a naked sword in his hand, looked her up and down slowly. There was anger in his eyes even as his mouth twisted into a mockery of a grin. "Enjoying the view, little bird?" he asked. "You didn't have to hide like a thief. I would freely let you look your fill, all you had to do was ask."

"No I… I'm sorry, my lord," she said, averting her gaze from his bare chest. He could be so awful sometimes! "I did not mean to watch. And I did not see anything! I was just waiting for you to leave."

"Waiting for me to leave?" he asked, his voice low and throaty. And drunken, she realized. His grip on her arm tightened and he pulled her closer. "Why? There's enough room in there for the both of us."

She looked at him, carefully making sure to look at his whole face. The water had plastered his hair to his scalp and there was no hiding the ruin of his features. But now the look in his eyes was different from anger, and she was not frightened.

"I am sure the king would not appreciate you speaking to me thus, my lord. And please let me go. You're hurting me."

He shoved her away from him as if she had scalded him. He sheathed his sword and looked down at her, his face sullen. "You shouldn't be out here alone, little bird," he said. "Thanks to the Imp there are all sorts of unsavory buggers crawling over the Red Keep. I'll have them post a guard on you when I get back."

"No," she said, following him back to the pond where his things were. "Please, ser. My lord. Please don't tell them. This is the only place I can be by myself, only place I can be at peace. If King Joffrey finds out about it, he will take it from me. "

She knew she was begging, and she was in truth embarrassed by the tears that came unbidden to her eyes so easily nowadays. But she could not lose the godswood. She was a daughter of Winterfell, and prayer did not come to her easily in a sept.

His grey eyes followed a tear down her cheek, and then paused to look at her split lip. "Alright, little bird," he rasped. "I'll tell no one. But I hope you are prepared to pay the price for my silence."