"Marry?"
"Marry?"
Sansa and the Hound voiced their doubts in harmony.
"Would you both just shut up and give me time to explain! But first, get one of your girls to bring us up some food before we all starve to death. Have the smarter one do it, not that one who met us at the door. Oh, and somebody get that hulking eavesdropper out of the doorway."
Everyone's attention turned to the red-faced guard.
"Kellan, would you please excuse us? We have some delicate personal matters to discuss." Sansa's voice was apologetic.
"As my lady wishes."
"And Kellan, could you kindly ask Veena to send up something from the kitchen for my guests?"
The guard bowed curtly, and turned on a heel, exiting quickly.
"I don't like him." Arya volunteered, cocking her head toward the empty doorway.
"Arya! You hardly know him!" Sansa scolded.
I agree with the little she-wolf on that one. The Hound kept his thoughts to himself.
They moved to the table, Arya bouncing into her chair, Sansa sitting as gracefully as a queen on a throne, and the heavy Hound thudding into his seat. He decided to listen after coming this far.
"So, after I last saw you," Arya motioned to Sansa, "I went to Westeros on some business. By the way, Littlefinger is dead."
"Arya!"
"He was trying to kill our own cousin! And have you forgotten what he did to you?" Arya glared at her sister, and continued. "Besides, I didn't do it. I'm not allowed to kill anyone I know. Anyway, the Vale is now safely back in Lord Robert Arryn's tiny shaking hands, for all the good it will do him."
Sansa shook her head, while Arya continued, "While I was there, I corresponded with Bran. He is relieved that you are alive and desperate to continue rebuilding Winterfell, but this Winter has been long and hard, and there is no coin to be had, unless you're a Lannister or owed money by a Lannister. He mentioned that, with your marriage to Lord Tyrion now annulled, he'd like to see you married to a Northman . . . ."
"The Hound is from the South. So, there goes your plan." Sansa interrupted, speaking as if the man wasn't there and dismissing the plan. "And I won't take some Umber or Karstark or whoever Bran has planned. No! No! I won't be traded like a horse ever again. I won't do it. Not for family or duty or honor . . . ."
"Calm down and hear me out, Sansa. I told him that you had re-married while you were in exile. You thought the whole family dead and could seek no one's permission to marry. I've never described nor named your new husband in my letters, despite Bran's asking thrice. He has offered to gift you and his new good-brother the Dreadfort, now that the Bolton line has been extinguished."
"But Arya, there is no husband! And the Dreadfort is an awful place."
"Gods you're stupid, Sansa! You're free to marry whomever you choose, whenever you choose, and to bring him home as a Lord to your fancy new castle whenever you'd like. Your sons and grandsons will be lords and bannermen to Winterfell."
Sansa brought her hand to her lips in shock, realizing what her sister had done for her. "Oh."
Just then, Veena arrived with a platter of fruit, cheeses, and olives, and bread apologizing, "Dinner is not yet done. Should I bring some wine?"
"Yes!" Three voices echoed.
Arya dove into the food and continued speaking as chewed. "Also, while I was there, I discovered that the Lannisters seated some Frey at Clegane keep."
The Hound leaned toward Arya, looking angry, but maintaining his silence. He grabbed a piece of bread.
She explained. "After the war, there was a mess of inheritance claims, men fighting over property like vultures over carrion. To maintain the peace, the crown itself ruled that any overlord who makes an improper distribution of property must make restitution to the rightful heirs in the form of coin or property. The rightful heir to Clegane Keep is Sandor Clegane, and the restitution must come from House Lannister, who assumed him dead too quickly and gave his lands to that thrice damned Frey. So, I wrote Tommen a letter in your name." She motioned toward him and pulled a decree from the pocket of her jerkin with the King's seal on it.
"His response was," she waved the paper and began reading, "Dear Lord Clegane, a grievous mistake was made by house Lannister. As the rightful heir to House Clegane, you may choose to pledge fealty to house Lannister and return to your father's lands, or you may choose to receive payment in coin for the value of your estate. As you took no knightly vows, you are no oathbreaker, and your return to the Seven Kingdoms is most welcomed. Your years of loyal service to our family are not forgotten."
Would that I could forget.
Arya smiled and handed him the document. "Don't you see? The Lannisters are the only people in Westeros with coin! Enough coin to make good on that offer. Enough coin to restore the North. And, as you know, they always pay their debts."
An uncomfortable silence followed. "So, you've worked it all out, then. Have you?" The Hound asked, nodding. "I'd bend the knee to a wolf instead of a lion and my coin would restore your North. I'd have a castle greater than my Father's home, in the North, far from the Lannisters. Your sister would return home, and you could go about your business of changing faces and lying to people."
Arya had a satisfied smile.
He continued. "And those future bannermen of House Stark, our sons and grandsons. Did your septa ever tell you how they get made? Because she," he pointed to Sansa," isn't interested in doing that with me. So, leave her be. She can stay here in Lorath, singing her little heart out. I'll guard her myself if she'll have my sword. When the day comes that she finds some pretty, charming lad who she can actually love, he'll become her Lord of the Dreadfort. Your brother can have the use my coin in the meantime, on loan, and when the time comes to return to the North, just give me some cottage in the North woods where I can be left alone."
Veena arrived with three flagons of wine and three cups. The Hound snatched one off her serving tray and began drinking from it.