Author's Note: This chapter sees the start of some light divergence from canon, while following the same storyline.
Warning: SanSan shipping, language, violent content/mentions of violent content
Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
A Sword with Wings
"When a man's blood is up, anything with tits looks good."
The queen's words echoed in Sansa's head the whole time she was trapped alone in her room with Sandor Clegane. He'd just come in from battle,with fires raging all around him. His blood was as up as it could get.
"A precious thing like you will look…very, very, good…"
Sandor stepped closer, she was so afraid. What did he want, was he here to rape her, as the queen had suggested Stannis's men would if the city was sacked?
"A slice of cake, just waiting to be eaten…"
He leaned forward suddenly, his scarred face against hers, noses touching. She whimpered in fright when he grabbed her shoulder in one of his massive hands, but his grip was surprisingly gently. "Little Bird…" He rasped, and his lips touched hers for a brief second. Then suddenly he was shaking her.
"Little Bird, wake up."
Sansa's eyes snapped open with a flush on her cheeks, expecting the Hound to be in front of her face, but surprised to find out he wasn't. She turned, looking over her should to find him on his knees beside her "Wh-what is-"
Obviously she was being too loud because Sandor silenced her by covering her mouth with his hand and raising a finger to his lips. "We're not alone." He said after a moment, he removed his hand and helped Sansa to her feet.
She was almost afraid to speak, and when she did it came out so soft Sansa thought he wouldn't hear her. "What do we do?" She had no idea who was out there, Joffery's men? Bandits?
Sandor did hear her though and beckoned her over to the horses, he cut the pack horse free from Stranger and lifted Sansa onto the mare's back. "Go." He said, "Try not to loose the stream, but find a place to hide."
Her heart pounded in her chest, "How will I find you?" She asked.
Sandor looked her in the eye "You might not." He answered with brutal honesty. He drew forth the knife from King's Landing and handed it her.
The sight of it turned her face even paler and Sansa wanted nothing more than to toss the thing into the stream. He seemed to see that in her eyes, he shoved it into her hands and glared at her, "This knife is your life, don't throw it away." He growled, scolding her like a child. He'd probably hear the same rhyme, or at least a similar one wen he had been learning to use a blade himself.
Sansa gripped the hilt of the knife and her fingers brushed the top of Sandor's hands when she did. Her gaze lifted from the knife to his his hands, they were still stained with hair dye from the day before, looking almost black. Her eyes went up his arm and to his face, he was still glaring at her, seemingly because she wasn't gone yet.
She almost didn't want to leave him. Staying here and facing whoever was out there seemed like a much more safer idea than running off into the forest on her own with only a little food and a knife she didn't even know how to use. Sandor raised his hand an smacked the mare's side to get her to move.
Just as he did though, Sansa saw his eyes widen as he realized the flaw in this plan. The same one she was just thinking: That Sansa wouldn't last very long on her own and she was in fact much safer staying with him. She heard him curse and turned around on her horse to seem him running to Stranger, obviously hoping she wouldn't get that far ahead of him before he caught up.
Sansa tried to get the mare to stop or slow down, but something had spooked her. Probably Sandor's cursing. Sansa managed to get the mare to stop and turn around, she caught a glimpse of Sandor and Stranger behind them on their way when she heard a sudden loud thwack!
She was familiar with the sound of an arrow hitting wood, but her mare was not, the horse reared and whinnied in fright before taking off into the woods. Sansa just barely managed to hold on to her mane, and heard the thump of some of the supplies falling out of the pack. More arrows shot around her, hitting the trees and frightening the mare.
Sansa screamed, and heard Sandor shouting somewhere behind her, getting further away. Sansa gripped her horse's mane, trying to hold on, she saw a ledge ahead that the mare jumped, knocking her off balance. She tried to keep track of which way they were going but it was hopeless and she was starting to feel sick.
She lost track of how long the mare had been running when she suddenly reared up again, this time throwing Sansa off her back before taking off again. Sansa landed on the ground hard with a loud painful gasp. She was still holding the knife, and when she sat up she discovered her skirt had been torn and a tinkle of blood decorated her leg, apparently the blade had grazed her when she fell.
A loud hiss also informed her of what had frightened her mare into throwing her off. Sansa screamed as a large snake raised it's head from the under brush. It lunged, Sansa recated almost as if the whole event were taking place in slow motion. The wide open mouth of the snake came closer and closer as she inched out of it's path, she was sure she wasn't going to make it.
Then suddenly time caught up back to it's regular speed, and Sansa threw her arm forward, clutching the knife and slammed it down on the snake's head. She ripped it free and slammed it down again, and again, the snake was obviously dead, but it's body still squirmed. She kept stabbing until it stopped moving.
"Killing is the sweetest thing there is."
Sandor had told her that once. Sansa had killed a man in King's Landing and the horror of what she had done haunted her as she stared at the dead snake, wondering if the man she had killed looked like this. An odd feeling swelled inside her, something not quite disgust yet almost pleasant.
Thrill.
Sansa backed away from the corpse breathing heavily and crying. When had she started crying? A twig snapped somewhere and she got to her feet holding the knife out in front of her wildly, expecting someone to come rushing out of the forest at her.
Nothing.
There were few items that had fallen out of the pack when Sansa had been thrown by the horse scattered about, she rushed to pick them up. A small twine of rope, her hairbrush, and a small sack of what she found was the flint and steel.
Her heart thudded in her chest. A breeze blew some leaves from the tree beside her, she swung around thinking the movement she saw was a person. In the branches a squirrel chased another, and Sansa pointed her knife upward at them. She backed into the tree behind her so that her back wasn't exposedt he moss was damp on her back, but she could see everything around her.
Every noise that she heard sent Sansa into a panic, and after swinging around several times she got dizzy and sank to the ground sobbing slightly. Her leg throbbed where she had accidentally cut herself and the stink of blood from the snake's corpse was making her sick. She wished Sandor were here, or anyone for that matter, she didn't want to be alone in this forest any longer.
At some point, Sansa found that she had gotten up and started walking. Or, actually, limping was more what she was doing. She looked around, hoping to find something that looked familiar. The forest was filled with trees of all sizes, shapes and colors, yet they all looked the same. There were rocks and boulders scattered around, a fallen log here and there with ferns and bushes growing out of the dead wood. Flowers were still blooming, though not a variety of them.
No sign of the stream she had gotten separated for Sandor at.
For the first time Sansa understood why Arya and even queen Cersei had expressed interest in being born as men, or at least treated the same as them. She would know more about how to take care of herself if she had. Suddenly Sansa felt weak and powerless, and that feeling caused her tears to start fresh and she had to lean against a tree just to keep from collapsing.
She didn't know how long she stood against that tree, but after some time she looked up and wiped her face. Sandor would probably mock her if he saw her just standing there crying. It was then that she noticed the moss on the tree. She felt it in comparison to the moss on the tree she had been leaning against earlier. It was much wetter than the last tree.
Sansa had spent a few nights out on the Wolf's Woods with her family and a few friends. If she recalled correctly, wet moss meant water was nearby. This gave her a little hope, she was heading in the direction of water at least. If it wasn't the stream then maybe a river, something she could follow and find a village or town!
She limped on. The cut hurt with each step, and finally Sansa forced herself to stop and look at it. She wasn't an expert with injuries so she didn't really know if the wound was as bad as it looked. Regardless she tore her her already ruined skirt and tied up the piece of cloth around her leg.
She took a look at the items she had picked up, the only supplies she had. Her hairbrush, the flint and steel, the twine of rope and her knife. Sansa stared at them for a moment before she used the knife to cut pieces of the rope off, to make a belt on her dress to hang the items off her waist so she didn't have to carry them in her hands the whole way.
In a few minutes she had the sack with the flint and steel tied to one hip and her hairbrush on the other. Sansa was going to put her knife beside the brush, but she remembered her Handmaiden, Shae and the knife she had strapped to her leg, hidden from view. Sansa lifted her skirt again and used the last of the rope to tie the knife to her leg, on the other side of her cut so that when the tear in her skirt revealed the rope, it only looked like it was securing the cloth over her injury.
Sansa was sure there was better use for the rope she had just used, but for now, she felt pretty good about what she had done with it and continued to walk.
Hours later the sky was getting dark, which was a little disheartening, but she had heard no sign of pursuers or strangers in the woods, and better yet, distantly Sansa could hear the familiar sound of running water. She quickened her pace and broke into a smile when she pushed aside a branch and saw the stream. It had to be the same one she and Sandor had been following, she was sure of it!
She didn't leave the safety of the trees though, she crept only the edge, looking for a place that would be safe to stay. Eventually she found a hole in the earth hidden by a rock, a good den that appeared to be vacant. She slid inside and made sure it was big enough, she thought about getting wood for a fire, but decided it was too risky.
Sansa curled up in the den. It took a while to get comfortable,and it was cold, Sansa stuck her arms up her sleeves to press as much of her own body heat against herself as possible. She wished Sandor were with her again. He was a frightening man, and that first morning she had woken up beside him had made Sansa uncomfortable, but his presence would be a great comfort right now.
For how uncomfortable and frightening the night was, the day had worn her out completely and Sansa fell asleep shortly.
They were in her chambers again, and yet they were not. In the odd space of the dream they were confined to the four walls of her room, yet she and Sandor Clegan were also on the burning battle field. He wore his armor, complete with the dog's head helmet, shield and drawn sword.
Fire licked at her skirt as Sansa stepped toward him and the door. His shield was aflame and his sword had turned a searing bright red in the heat. At the back of her head Sansa told herself this was a dream, for the real Sandor would be out of his mind if this were to happen, yet he stood calm as she approached him.
The fire crawled up her dress, not harming her, but burning the cloth and turning it black with ash where it touched. She stood before Sandor, her flames burned out and leaving a strange, hauntingly beautiful new dress clinging to her body as she reached up and lifted his helmet to reveal Sandor's face.
As always it was scarred and hard, yet his eyes were soft when he looked into hers. "Little Bird…" He whispered leaning down. She rose on her toes to meet him, pressing her mouth to his.
Sansa opened her eyes, not sure what had awoken her, but the dream left a gasp on her lips and her face hot as the flames should have been. She covered her mouth and pulled herself into a tight ball, the image from her dream rested under her eyelids and flashed before her every time she closed them.
Her stomach growled, she had not eaten since the night before last, and she had no food. Sansa determined that she needed to follow the stream if she hoped to find anyone who could help her, and set to work getting out of the den she had slept in. It was proving a little difficult, her wounded leg had go stiff and every movement made it hurt, but after a few minutes she pulled herself free from the den.
Only to find herself surrounded by a group of men on horses.
Sansa screamed, they could only be bandits who would rape and kill her. The men laughed as she tried to run, proving that they must have known she was there and were waiting for her to come out. Sansa didn't get very far when one of them got off his horse and followed after. Catching her by the arm. She struck his face with her free hand and wanted to go for her knife, but a second man had already reached them.
She was struck in turn and the next thing she knew everything had gone black as a sack was pulled over her head. "No! Please!" she begged and screamed, hoping against hope that Sandor was out there somewhere to help her.
She was pulled back toward the group, and her arms tied to her sides while her captors only laughed and mocked her attempts to struggle free. She expected to be gang raped, and was a little surprised to be pulled onto a horse. She was held by one man who sang over her pleas to be released, and her throat went dry forcing her to stop and cry silently.
With the bag over her head, they could have been riding for hours or only a few minutes and Sansa wouldn't have known the difference. She tried to listen to the conversations of her captors, but could barely hear anything through the sack and the one man's singing. Finally she was pulled roughly down from the horse and the sack ripped off her head.
She didn't even try to hide the fact that she was still crying. To her surprise that Sandor was in front of her, and a small cry of joy escaped her lips, though she regretted it when she saw that he too was tied up. If he reaction didn't give them away as knowing each other, Sandor's relieved look upon seeing her alive did, as did his concerned step forward when the man who held her suddenly put a knife to her throat.
"What's your name, girl?" He demanded, letting his blade bury itse;f just deeply enough into her skin to make Sansa gasp.
Sandor growled, "Get your hands off her!"
The group chuckled, there were at least eight on horseback, four men walking and three boys stood by the horses, Stranger the last in the line, making unhappy noises about being tied to the group. The two bigger boys blocked the third smallest from view but he was trying very hard to peek over their shoulders.
Sansa had just enough time to notice that they were still in the forest when the man behind her pulled her hair, making fresh tear sting at her eyes. "I said: What's your name girl?" He demanded again.
"Jolee!" She cried out, using the first name that came to her mind that wasn't her real one.
The man stroked her hair this time, which made her even more nervous than when he had yanked on it. "Good girl…" He whispered, "Jolee what?"
Sansa felt the blade stinging at her neck again and her heart pounded in her ears, "Jolee…Clegane." She answered and nodded to Sandor as she did, "His wife."
She was a terrible liar, Sandor had told her that more than once, but Sansa wasn't sure if it was the lie that slipped out of her mouth that caused the abrupt round of laughter from the men, or the look of shock the came over Sandor's face when she said it.
"Looks like this is news to him!" One of the men on horseback said.
A man standing near Sandor continued mockingly, "And far too young and pretty for the Hound." He laughed, "Unless this is what you like, eh Dog? Fucking little girls, is that your deal?"
Sandor only snarled at them, "She's his whore more likely," The man holding Sansa said, moving his hand downward to caress her hip and make her whimper.
Only then did Sandor actually say anything, "Don't touch her!" He barked.
"Or what?" He replied, obviously thinking that the bound man could do him no harm. His hand left Sansa's hip and traveled up her side to her breast which he then grabbed and squeezed.
Sansa shrieked and thrust her hand back, grabbing him by his balls and pulling as hard as she could. The man yelped in pain and released her, Sansa wasted no time in running. She was caught by another man fairly quickly, but at least she was away from her molester.
"You fucking cunt!" The man she had attacked screamed, "I oughtta-"
She was forced to turn around just in time to see Sandor run forward and ram the man who had groped her. The Hound out weighted him and easily knocked him to the ground. A second man came forward to try and pull Sandor back, but he only lashed out with his legs, knocking him off his feet as well, on to the first man.
Unfortunately for both of them, the first man had drawn his sword, and when the second fell upon him he was impaled on it. The weight of his companion knocked him back again, and there was a sickening crack as the man's head hit the rock beneath him. Both of them moved no more.
There was stunned silence for a minute before Sandor turned from the dead men, "Anyone else?" He spat.
Men murmured to themselves and Sansa was push forward. Her initial response was to stiffen, fearing the worst but she was placed beside Sandor and she wiggled her arm to touch his. "What do we do now?" One of the men on horseback asked.
They all turned to the apparent leader of the group. The man made a thoughtful noise then pointed to Sandor, "Get the Hound back on his demon horse and find one for his bitch." He ordered, no one jumped up at the thought of getting anywhere near Stranger, but a few men did come forward to lead Sandor away. "We'll take them to the Brotherhood and Lord Beric can decide what to do with them, and the Stark girl too."
Sansa's blood turned to ice when he said the name Stark, but Sandor shook his head and gave a subtle nod behind her as he was taken away. Sansa turned and a man was bringing a sack toward her, but beyond him were the three boys she had seen before. The smallest boy was no longer hidden behind the other two and Sansa could see him clearly.
No, not him…her.
Arya…