Chapter 5:

She tried to pull away from Sandor, but he held onto her wrist fast, her skin twisting painfully as she tried to wrench herself free. The tears were coming. She was striking his huge chest with her free hand clenched in a fist. She was as helpless as her sister had been when he had snatched her, but in her own mind Sansa was a fighting direwolf, with all the beauty of Lady and the fury of Nymeria. He will not stop me. I won't let him.

She felt a hot tear slide down her cheek but her anger was quenched by Sandor's too strong hands now clutching her arms, stopping any physical fight she might want to make. She gave a small choking sob of frustration and buried her head helplessly in the horse's side. The animal gave a careless toss of the head.

She couldn't believe what she had just allowed Brienne and her sister to witness.

"I'll take you west."

The words were unexpected in her ear. She looked up, and Sandor Clegane with his hands still on her arms was speaking in a low rasp to her. She looked over to Brienne, who was craning her neck, never coming closer but trying to hear.

If I accept him, I won't be able to repay him. But they will take me to the wall otherwise.

She nodded.

"Take the wolf girl to the wall, Tarth," Sandor said to Brienne, "I'll take the little bird to this Greyjoy bitch on the Iron Islands."

"I will take Lady Sansa," Brienne replied instantly. Trust Brienne to object.

"You need to take Arya to the Wall," Sansa said, wiping her face as Sandor released her, "Please."

"It is my duty to protect you and shield your back, my lady," the Maid of Tarth continued to press, "I swore a vow to your mother."

"I swore a vow to protect Joffrey Baratheon and shield his back," Sandor cut in, "Here I am. Honour and all." The sarcasm did not go unnoticed.

"Your honour is worth nothing, deserting hound." Brienne retorted.

"Brienne, please listen to me," Sansa pleaded, "I understand your wanting to keep your honour. My Mother would have been proud to have a Knight of your calibre serving her," She heard a snort from Sandor behind her but she carried on anyway, "I just hope I've been as great a lady to you the way my Mother was. Please, help me the way you wanted to help her. You found me, just as you swore you would. You served Catelyn Stark. Please do her daughters the same justice. Protect one and help the other."

When she had finished speaking, Sansa realised she had taken hold of one of Brienne's hands. She had hands as big as Sandor's, probably as just as rough and cut under her heavy leather gloves. Looking up into the big woman's face, Sansa saw her stunning blue eyes were staring sadly at her.

"You bear so much resemblance to your mother, Lady Stark," Brienne spoke slowly in a mournful voice, "Very well." She took a step back to face Sansa and Arya equally. "I am yours, daughters of House Stark. I shall shield your backs and give my life for yours if it should come to that. I swear it by the old gods and the new."

"You will always have a place in our home and at our table," Sansa replied with every dignity she had seen her father speak similar words, "And we shall never ask anything of you that would bring you dishonour." She then waited, and Arya finished,

"We swear it by the old gods and the new."

There was silence for a few minutes. Sandor stood unsure of whether to speak first or let the women begin. Brienne stared at the ground, her eyes closed. Arya looked up expectantly at Sansa, who had no idea of what to do next. The stories all speak of Knights swearing vows but never who said what after.

"You should go now, then," Brienne suddenly spoke up, turning to walk away to her horse, "You'll need as much time as possible to reach Greyjoy before she comes to you."

Sansa looked after her almost helplessly, when she felt an urgent hand on her shoulder from Sandor, silently telling her to get on her horse. But I never meant for it to happen this quick, the child in her insisted, but if not now, when?

"Arya," She went to her sister, as Brienne came back straight to Sandor, warning him what would happen if Sansa came back injured or not at all.

"I've got it, bitch of Tarth," He retorted bluntly, going off to get his own horse.

"Nevertheless," Brienne's voice became slightly louder, "If you don't take care of her, if I find her hurt, you will hang. By the Gods I swear it."

"I'll miss you too. Piss off now with that wolf bitch. I'll be fucking glad to finally see the back of her. Don't be surprised if you wake up to find her about to smash your skull in."

Sansa ignored the jibes between them. Something I won't miss, she thought, before taking Arya a few paces away.

"I don't like this plan," Arya said uncertainly.

"It's this or nothing," Sansa replied, "Be good to Brienne. She really is a good woman, and mother trusted her. She's kept me alive."

"I like her." Arya looked over to Brienne. Sansa knew she was pleased about finally parting with the Hound, and Brienne was obviously fond of the girl. "I'm going to miss you." Arya sniffed before throwing her arms around her sister. The Stark daughters embraced whilst the leaves were gently nudged from their branches and the two on the horses waited.

"We've found each other once. It will happen again," Sansa said in her sister's ear.

"Did he really save you from being raped?" She heard Arya whisper back.

"Yes. I'm sorry I lied to Father about Nymeria." The confession came out of her quickly, as if she didn't tell Arya it would be her last chance. She wanted to ask everything and tell her sister everything, in what precious small time they had before House Stark was scattered again.

"I'm sorry they killed Lady. We had to drive Nymeria off with rocks. It was all the hound's fault."

"Did you really try to smash his head in with a skull?"

"Yes."

"Arya…" Sansa wanted to say something wise like Mother that showed her advanced years over Arya, but found she couldn't. No matter how passionately she spoke, or how she tried to come up new plans and ideas, the two of them were still just girls. But the daughters of wolves. "Stay…you. Please don't change."

Arya smiled, and the two made their way over to their horses.

"Goodbye, Brienne of Tarth. I pray the Gods hold you in good stead." Sansa spoke to Brienne with every respect she had ever been taught.

"Farewell, my lady," Brienne replied, and Sansa wondered if she had said the same thing to her mother, "May the Gods protect you from any…" She cast an eye at Sandor, "Danger you may encounter."

"Thank you." Sansa's voice was beginning to tremble. She grabbed Arya for one last hug. If she didn't go now, she would tell Sandor to give it up and just head for the wall with Brienne and Arya. That small part of her wanted to remain with her sister, desperately. This road will be long. But the paths always are, like in the songs. My sister will be waiting for me at the end of this one. And so will Winterfell.

The girls mounted their horses.

With a deep breath, a trembling lip, and strength she did not feel, Sansa Stark put her heels to her horse and turned from Arya Stark and Brienne, maid of Tarth. With Sandor Clegane beside her, it was west she went to conquer the North, her Mother's forbearance and red hair upon her, and blood of her Father and the First men inside her, a mighty people who would not know defeat even when it rode behind them, biting at their heels.