"So, I have made my decision on Arya's proposal. Although, as of yet, Arya has been the only one to propose anything." Sansa hinted, taking Sandor's hand. "Oh, you're shaking." She observed, concerned.
"Little bird, I . . . ." Tears were welling in his deep gray eyes, and he cast his eyes down, shaking his head.
She hadn't seen him cry on the night of the battle, only felt his tears. It made her nervous, she suddenly feared he might not ask her, and she said whatever came to her mind, a jumbled mix of his words and her thoughts. "Do I frighten you so much? Or is it the thought of taking marriage vows making you shake? Maybe it's that your mind is frantically occupied conjuring up some crafty means of giving me offense in order for you to push me away, as you did anytime you opened your heart to me in King's Landing. Well, here is my advice: save yourself some pain, my Lord, and give yourself what you want."
"And what is it that I want?" He asked, knowing the answer.
This time, she was more confident in her response. "Me. You want me to smile and smell sweet and be your lady love. You want me to love you and never fear you. You want me to rescue you, take you North somewhere, anywhere. I could keep you safe. No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them. I'll never hurt you again."
The big man came to one knee, head bowed, in the same gesture she had seen him use to reverence to the King at the Hand's Tourney.
"Look at me," she commanded, tipping his chin up with two fingers. He looked up at her through his hair, trying desperately to maintain his composure.
"If you were to ask me, I would be a good wife. I swear I'd be yours and only yours; no hugging the manservants, no giving my favours to tourney knights for hand kisses, and I'll never have or want another man in my bed or in my heart, just you every night and sometimes during the day. I may not have sung you the song I promised you, but I hope it was the song you wanted most to hear. Either way, it is the truest one I know. "
He made a queer sound, and it took a moment for her to realize he was sobbing. She reached into her dress at the spot above her heart, withdrawing the new handkerchief he had used to wipe her tears earlier that day, glad that she'd taken the time back in her room to grab it. She began to dab at his face.
Through his tears, he saw the last ray of the day's sun reflected off the golden image of the Mother at her throat. He knelt there in the sand, summoning courtesy and formality, painstaking as it was for him. I'll give her a proper proposal. That much I can do. He took her hand. "My Lady Sansa of House Stark," he began, clearing his throat. "I wish, more than you know, that I could ask your honorable father for your hand."
She began to cry.
"My house is not as noble as yours, nor is my fortune as great. I do not deserve what I am asking. Yet, I humbly beg you the honor of your hand in marriage. Will you accept me?"
"I will."
His voice betrayed his relief. "Then choose the day, and I'll take the vows before some Septon, here in Lorath." Then he added in a mock begrudging tone, "And when the day comes that we return to the North, I know you'll want us to do the same before your old tree gods."
"In the godswood! Truly? You'd do that for me, Sandor, wed me twice? Before the old gods and the new?"
"Aye. I'll be a Northman." He stood and picked her up over his shoulder and started walking back toward her home, "But I'll bed you twice, too."
"Put me down!" She giggled. "And no bedding until the wedding!"
He set her down, and answered solemnly. "I agree."
When they returned arm in arm to her home, the candlelight within and the disappearance of the dinner dishes from the patio told them that Veena and Rona had returned from their dinner at the local inn. Sansa collected her shoes, and Sandor collected his shirt and boots.
"This is the happiest I've been since Winterfell. I believe this was the prophecy of King Robert." She teased.
"Prophecy? That old, drunk whore-monger was no prophet. What are you talking about, girl?"
"On the Kingsroad, he told my father 'Get her a dog, she'll be happier for it'."
Instead of appreciating her joke, his mood turned sour. "That was the day I . . . ." I rode down Arya's friend Mycah.
"Please, don't ruin this day for me, Sandor." She warned.
He was sullen, still remorseful about the butcher's son.
After his continued silence, she yelled, "Enough!" She was louder than he'd ever heard her, angrier than he'd ever seen. "It doesn't matter what you did that day or any day before today, what's done is done. You've made your demands on me, and this one is mine: forget it, Sandor! Forgive yourself and forget it all. I've lived here in exile not in fear of returning but in shame. I know too well the damage regret does. I let you leave that night without me, and I . . . I married the Imp! The buggering Imp!" She laughed contemptuously.
He was taken aback at her language, and as her ferocity increased. "I pretended to be Littlefinger's bastard while he touched me in ways no true father would! I stood by and watched him kill my Aunt and Ser Dontos! My own hairnet killed a King, may he rot in seven hells!"
Her eyes were on fire, nostrils flaring, and she became more her mother's daughter with each word as she continued. "And my own actions, my stupidity, killed my father! But I swear to Seven, that I've had my fill of remorse, and I will reclaim my life. I will return to Winterfell as Lady Sansa Clegane and go make my home at the thrice-damned Dreadfort! And I will finally allow myself to be free of all the bloody shame and regrets! I'm ready to be happy. I will be happy! And you will, too!"
In an instant, the growl of the direwolf was silenced by courtesy, as she corrected her words. "That is to say that I will do all that is in my power to make you happy, my Lord, but the task is easier accomplished if you would please consent to breaking with our pasts and beginning our lives anew together with clean consciences."
He was still shocked by her outburst, and could only ask, "So, it's true what they say about the Dreadfort being cursed?"
"We shall change that, too." She resolved elegantly.