Author's Note: Thus begins more divergence from canon, and an increase in chapter length. No promises that the rest the chapters of this story are going to be this long, but I do have a history.
Warning: Long chapter, SanSan scenes, language, plot divergence, mentions of violence and whatnot.
Disclaimer: the song Sansa sings to Sandor in this chapter is Linger by Epica, I use it for the purpose of this fanfiction only because I know nothing of song writing and trying to make up a song would kill the scene. Once again all recognizable characters and plots are GRRM's.
A Sword with Wings
Following Sandor's victory over Beric, he had been ushered away to have his stab wounds looked at. Sansa and Arya were cornered by several of the Brothers, but gently assured that no harm would come to them. Despite this, however, Sansa couldn't remain calm.
Every time she saw a man approaching her she had flashbacks to King's Landing; to her beatings, Joffery's threats, and the attempted rape. It hadn't taken much convincing to get Thoros to agree to let her stay with Sandor until he was allowed to leave. Arya could learn a thing or two about how acting like a lady got a woman what she wanted.
A few smiles, some gentle curtsies, and polite conversations and a few hours later Sansa was left alone with the Hound.
Adrenalin from the fight had kept him energetic for a few minutes, but once it had calmed, Sandor was having trouble moving. Members of the Brotherhood had to help him remove his armor, and looking at him now, Sansa could understand why. He was covered in scars and black bruises.
Many of the pale marks across his chest and arms were clearly old, others fresher, some may have come from Blackwater, the bruises were from the fight with Beric, but the main concern was the stab wounds inflicted by Arya just after.
He'd reluctantly taken a small dose of milk of the poppy, expressing more interest in a flask of wine the Brotherhood could not provide, while the wounds were stitched up. Thoros had explained to Sansa that his armor had protected him enough that the stabs were not deep enough to warrant much concern for his health, but Sandor refused to use the foreign ointment that was recommended to be spread on the wounds. Before he left, the priest had handed her the container of medicine and asked her to see if she could talk him into using it.
"It's perfectly safe." Thoros said, although he didn't give any details about what was in the balm, or where it had come from, "We're not trying to poison him, the Lord of Light has judged him innocent. Look here, I've used it myself several times. Those wounds will be just more scars in a few days, rather than a week."
"I'll see what I can do," Sansa replied, "But if he still refuses, I won't press." She told him.
"Night will be falling soon, we'll have his horse packed and ready for him to depart by morning." Thoros nodded, and looked over to Sandor, "Before you go Hound, you must tell me what you were doing so far from home with the little lady Stark." He said.
"Piss off." Came Sandor's gruff reply.
"I pray the Lord of Light sees fit to give you a quick recovery Clegane," Thoros said, "The sooner you're out of here the better. You should do the same."
"I don't pray to my gods, what makes you think I'll pray to yours?" The Hound called to him as he left.
A few other members of the Brotherhood remained in the small section of the cave that was being used as a medical ward, but they were quick to leave, wishing the Hound a speedy recovery with as much sincerity as Thoros had and giving Sansa a few blessings, "For the night is dark and full of terrors." People kept saying that over and over, Sansa thought it was odd that they seemed to find comfort in it.
She wanted to talk to Sandor about her dream, and how the image of him from it had come to life. She'd leave out any mention of the dream-kiss, someone had told her once that kissing in dreams meant no more than a longing to know someone better, which made sense in a way: she had no idea how long she and Sandor would be together, she probably wanted to get to know him. Still, best leave that part out.
He'd probably mock her, kiss or not it was a silly dream no doubt, but she wanted to at least mention it. The fact that she had seen his victory (well, maybe not exactly) had to be important. Though as Sansa approached it was obvious the Hound was in no condition to be talking about silly dreams.
Sansa stepped over to Sandor once they were finally alone, she held the medicine and didn't say anything when he looked at her. Sandor didn't seem to recognize her for a moment, a side effect of the milk of the poppy, and it took him even longer to realize what she was holding. "You too?" He grumbled dizzily and then proceeded to chew on his tongue as if noticing he had one for the first time.
"It couldn't hurt." She said with a small shrug, expecting him to decline she started to put it down.
Instead Sandor made a face and grabbed the container from her hands. "I'd rather have a song…" He muttered, he couldn't seem to get the lid off on his own, so Sansa took it back and spread the lotion over his stitched up wounds.
"I knew you would win." Sansa said quietly. Sandor didn't reply. She couldn't help staring at the numerous scars he had across his body, wondering how he could have gotten so many, where he had, and what has cause such odd shaped marks. Sandor still hadn't said a word when she had finished spreading the ointment and put the lid back on it. "The Brotherhood plans for me to stay here."
"Like fuck you are." Sandor finally answered her, "Soon as I can stand again I'm packing up Stranger and leaving. You're coming with me whether the Brotherhood like it or not."
"What about Arya?" Sansa asked, Sandor turned to face her with a scowl, "She's my sister, I can't just leave her here." She knew that Sandor was never close to his brother so perhaps he didn't understand how much it meant to her to have Arya back, even if she did tend to be quite obnoxious at times.
Sandor got a thoughtful look on his face before he closed his eyes with a groan. Sansa thought he passed out, but after a moment he spoke up again. "I can fight off any man who'd try to stop me from getting you out of here, but if I'm taking both of you we'll have to be more tricky than that…"
"What do you mean?" Sansa asked.
"…" Sandor looked a little paler than he had a moment ago, and he noticed his tongue again before continuing "I'm tired…Find the little bitch and talk to her." Sansa tried to protest to calling Arya that, but Sandor didn't answer seemingly having fallen asleep.
Sansa didn't want to go back out into the cave with all the men she did not know or trust, but with Sandor unresponsive she finally stood up and gathered her courage to talk to a few people. Smiling gently and giving small curtsies she asked if anyone knew where her sister was and finally she was directed to another part of the cave where the smith was set up.
A boy was there, the one who had helped her stop Arya from attacking Sandor after the trial. She assumed he was the the friend 'Gendry' Arya had mentioned when she had met them in the cart. He looked up at her as she approached, "Looking for Arya?" He asked with a soft smile.
Sansa had been feeling tense, wanting to run back to Sandor, but that tenseness eased a little with the easiness of Gendry's smile. "Yes." She replied.
"You just missed her." He said, pointing back out the way she had come, "She went to find Lord Beric, not too long ago, He's at the front you might be able to catch her before she moves again."
That sounded like Arya, couldn't keep still when she was nervous. She nodded her thanks, and turned to leave, but Gendry called her back to show Sansa what he was working on. He carefully handed her a sword wrapped up in a cloth, warning her to be careful handling it.
"The Brotherhood wanted to keep it so they could reforge it for their use, but I talked Thoros into letting the Hound have it back." Gendry said, "Even a man like him is going to need a weapon out there."
It took Sansa a moment to realize what he meant. This wasn't just any sword, it was Sandor's, the one that had snapped out of the hilt and twisted by the heat of the fire. Gendry had fixed it, but that was not all, Sansa discovered when she lifted the cloth to see the blade.
"I heard he calls you Little Bird." Gendry explained, pointing to the design he had etched onto the blade. There was a carefully engraved feathered wing resting atop 3 cross-hatched knots going down from the hilt. Gendry flipped it over to show the same design half finished on the other side of the blade, "There's some small flaws in the design, but I doubt anyone but a master smith would notice. When I finish with the blade, I'll add a Hound's head, here on the hilt."
Sansa was amazed at the craftsman's ship, she didn't see these flaws Gendry had spoken of. "It's beautiful." She said and folded the cloth back over the blade. "I'm sure Sandor will appreciate you returning his sword." She said handing it back.
Then she remembered that Arya had said she wanted to get Gendry to help them escape, and leaned forward a bit. If Arya trusted him, Sansa saw no reason why she shouldn't, "I'm going to escape with Sandor when he's recovered. I'm taking Arya too, that's why I need to find her." She whispered, "You should come with us. We could use your help."
Gendry's face fell a little, and Sansa knew that he wasn't going to come. The young smith looked around before answering, "I've already talked to Arya about this," He said, "I'm going to stay on with the Brotherhood, they could use my help too."
Sansa felt a little sad, Arya would have undoubtedly been upset to hear that, but Sansa decided not to press about it. "I wish you luck then."
Gendry seemed to be relieved by her understanding. "I can still help you escape though." He replied quietly, "What's you plan?" He asked.
Sansa shook her head, "Still working on that. Sandor will be allowed to leave by morning, that's all I know." She explained.
"Then your best chance would be to leave before sunrise." He told her. "Go find Arya. The Brotherhood doesn't want this place discovered, so you have to plan this carefully."
"Yes." Sansa agreed, "Thank you." She said and turned to leave again.
"Good luck." Gendry called after her. Before she left the Smith, however, Sansa caught a glimpse of her knife on a rock serving as a table. She glanced back to make sure Gendry was busy before she snatched it and hid it back under her skirt. This knife is your life, don't throw it away.
He had said that Arya had gone to talk to Beric, up at the front of the cave. Sansa weaved through the crowds of men bustling around, trying to get there. With her knife back in reach, Sansa felt a little more at ease than she had before. Her smiles came a little easier with the knowledge that if a man tried to touch her, or threaten her in anyway, that she had a way to defend herself.
It seemed like they were deliberately trying to get in her way, but Sansa scolded herself, it was probably just her imagination. She listened to them speaking as she walked, there was a lot of talk about the Stark family that didn't stop as she passed. She heard that Arya had someone watching her almost constantly to make sure she didn't try to finish what she'd started with the Hound. For that she was grateful.
She heard snippets of conversation, a plan to take her and Arya to Riverrun, something about her mother and brother being also overheard terrible news that Theon Greyjoy had betrayed them and taken Winterfell, reports that were 'unconfirmed' about the destruction of her home, and rumors that her younger brothers may or may not still be alive. Dark thoughts filled Sansa's head, the plan to escape may need to include a plan of what to do after.
She didn't know the truth about what had happened to Winterfell, but Sansa wasn't sure she trusted the Brothehood's claim that her mother and Robb were in Riverrun.
She was almost back where she started, at the part of the cave where Sandor had been taken for treatment. That's when conversations she overheard turned from the Stark's to the Hound. Something was wrong, people were saying he must have been guilty after all. Surprised, Sansa broke into a run, diverting her course, leaving Arya for later, she needed to know what was happening with Sandor.
She reached the section of the cave. Thoros was back and stopped her from going to Sandor's side. "What's happening?" She begged.
"A reaction to the ointment." He answered, "The Hound's not going anywhere by morning. It may be a few days before we know if he's going anywhere at all." He tried to usher her away, saying something about how she should be with her sister, but Sansa pushed passed him and sat beside Sandor.
He had gone pale as a ghost, and he trembled in his sleep, breathing irregularly and sweating. The spots on his chest where Sansa had applied the balm herself not too long ago had turned red and the scar tissue forming over his wounds was blistering. He made a few noises, gurgles, and moans.
Sansa felt a hand on her shoulder, but didn't look up at Thoros when he spoke, "This is a rare reaction. I've only seen it a few times, and seen people survive it even fewer." He said.
Sansa's stomach flipped. "If…If he dies…" She choked, "Can you bring him back…like you did with Lord Beric?"
Thoros seemed confused by her concern. "You're awfully worried about a man who kidnapped you." He mused.
She didn't know where he had gotten this information, but Sansa finally looked up at him, angrily she snapped at the priest. "He didn't kidnap me! He saved me!" She wiped her face and regained her composure, ladies didn't lose their tempers. "He's been saving me since they killed my father… can you bring him back or not?"
That was a bit of an exaggeration, the number of times the Hound had stood by and done nothing out numbered the times he had actually helped her, but Thoros had no need to know that much. There was a shift in the priest's expression as he considered the answer.
"I'm not the one that brings people back from the grave, child." He told her, "Only the Lord of Light can do that, I merely say the words."
"Then will you say them?" Sansa asked sternly.
Something about the way she was speaking now seemed to change the way Thoros viewed her, Sansa could almost not believe the way she sounded herself, so confident, almost commanding. She wasn't a child anymore, she was a woman, a Lady, and now she was speaking like one.
"The Hound's passed his trial by combat." Thoros said after a while, "Perhaps R'hllor is giving him another trial. If he dies, it is not my place to interfere with the Lord's work."
Sansa didn't like that response, but before she got a word in Thoros was giving his blessing, praying for her to be strong no matter the Lord of Light's judgement. And then he turned to leave, as he did, Sansa saw Arya standing not far off. They made eye contact only for a brief moment, before Arya ran off.
But Sansa had seen the hate in her sister's was praying for the Hound's death, probably harder than she'd ever prayed for anything in her life.
And Sansa knew that she would have to pray even harder for him to live.
She couldn't explain it, but she felt a nagging sickness inside her, like she was responsible for Sandor being like this. It wasn't just that he had brought her along, she had a feeling that the Brotherhood would have caught him with or with out. This feeling of guilt reached further than that. Back to the King's Road…
Night fell. A few men tried to lead her away, find a place for her to sleep for the night, but Sansa refused to leave Sandor's side. She stayed awake longer than she thought herself capable of, praying to every god she knew. The Old, the New, even the Lord of Light she spared a prayer for.
I don't know if you listen to girl's who don't believe, but please… She prayed, please, you judged him not guilty before. Do not take him now.
It was not quite morning when she fell asleep sitting up, but it must have been close when Gendry shook her shoulder. Sansa spent the early hours in a bit of a haze, her feelings of sickness left her with no appetite and Sansa wandered the cavern doing simple chores that the Brotherhood asked her to. Mostly concerning with Stranger, the horse seemed to like her enough that he allowed her to feed him, even if he flattened his ears and curled back his lips.
Hopefully they wouldn't think her capable of saddling him too.
Once that was finished Sansa was awake enough to continue as she had the previous day. Smile, be pleasant, ask questions, get answers. While Arya sulked in one part of the cave or another, Sansa familiarized herself with the layout, who was on guard and when, all under the guise of just being a foolish girl making pleasant conversation with her captors.
She returned to Gendry by noon, whispering what she had learned to him. They had a decent plan put together that they promised to tell Arya the next time either of them saw her, but the whole thing would fall apart if Sandor didn't recover. She still hadn't eaten, and nor had that bulge of guilt within her dissipated. It ate at her, feeling as though she had a lump in her belly that was growing bigger the longer the Hound lay unconscious.
Sansa fell asleep in a corner of the cave for a what felt like only minutes for how rested she felt. When she woke Sansa returned to where Sandor lay.
Thoros was already there with a few other men tending to the Hound, between them Sansa could see that some of the color had come back to Sandor's face, which she hoped was a good sign, it made her guilt ease a little at lease. Pretty soon the others were dismissed, but Thoros stayed, to Sansa's disappointment. She knelt beside him again to resume her prayers for Sandor's recovery, the priest touched her shoulder again. Why couldn't he just leave her be?
"You should eat M'lady,." He said.
"I'm not hungry." Sansa replied, though that was a lie quickly dismissed by an embarrassingly loud growl from her stomach.
"Making yourself sick isn't going to make him better any sooner." Thoros told her, Sansa didn't budge. Thoros knelt beside her holding a flask of wine. He wasn't drunk, but he took a sip from it before speaking, "I have a feeling this is about more than him getting you out of King's Landing." He said after swallowing, "Tell me girl, why so concerned?"
Tears dripped over Sansa's eyelids and she couldn't hold it in any longer. "I should have been the one on trial…for Mycah." She moaned.
Thoros seemed surprised to hear this, "What do you mean?"
She explained as best she could, with as many details about that day by the river as she could remember. How Arya and Mycah were only playing, as Arya had asked of him. How Joffery had harassed them first, and she had stood back saying nothing. Arya attacked the prince to protect her friend, and Nymeria attacked Joffery to protect Arya.
Sansa had done nothing.
And then she lied about what had happened in front of everyone. And for what? To protect a spoiled little boy who had only ever pretended to love her.
She knew Sandor had probably already killed Mycah by the time the orders to kill Lady had been given…"But if I'd spoken up earlier- any time before nightfall- even just to tell one person the truth, that butcher's boy might still be alive." She finished, wiping her eyes.
Thoros still seemed to be surprised by what he was hearing, he didn't know what to say and instead passed her his flask. Accustomed to the Queen having her drink, Sansa put the flask to her lips and took a sip, only to find that it wasn't wine- it had a much earthier taste to it. Must have been ale, she supposed and even though it wasn't the fine drink she'd been given at King's Landing, Sansa continued her sip to be polite.
She almost preferred it to the wine, it felt appropriate after that spill.
Finally Thoros spoke again. "The Lord of Light has heard your confession, Child." He assured her, "I don't know if it'll help your friend or not, but he's heard you."
Calling Sandor Clegane her friend didn't seem like the right word, but Sansa just nodded her head. Thoros spoke to her a little while longer, but he figured out quickly that she wasn't listening and stood to leave. He returned a few minutes later with some dry bread for her, but Sansa didn't touch it. She couldn't stay awake the way she had the night before however. Sansa dreamed again- not of Sandor and kisses that would never happen though.
This night she dreamed of fire, of Winterfell falling into ruin. She wandered through the smoke and flames, ashes turned her dress black. Beyond the clouds of soot, she saw figures, Bran and Rickon with Summer and Shaggydog trotting along behind. She called out to them, but they were too far to hear her. She tried to run and catch them, but they vanished out of view.
The scene shifted, still aflame, to another castle, another ruin, this one she did not know, and another familiar figure. "Robb!" She called through the fire. This time her voice carried over the crackle of the flames and her eldest brother turned toward her.
She could see him, and Grey Wind, as clearly as though she were awake and standing only a short distance away. "Sansa?" He called back, plainly confused and as clear as any speaker. His wolf stood at his side and wagged his tail.
She wanted to call out to him again, but didn't know what to say. The ashes under her feet began to rise, as if hiding a massive beast. And it was. She stumbled back, somehow unsurprised, merely getting out of the way and a great bird rose from underneath her. Fire beat from it's wings and it floated just in front of her for a moment before it shot into the sky.
It's path left a trail of embers drifting downward and when Sansa looked back at Robb, he was no longer there. Instead Sandor stood before her closer than her brother. Close enough to cup her cheek. "Sing me a song Little Bird."
Like her brother's, his voice seemed too real to be just a dream, but unlike it, this time it woke her. Sansa blinked away the image to find Sanor's hand really touching her cheek, and him repeating the command to sing. It was too dark to see his face, but for a few details illuminated by nearby torches, but his voice was drowsy, and his fingers trembled against her face.
Sansa wasn't sure if Sandor even realized he was awake, he hadn't asked her for a song since she said she no longer knew any. He sounded so tired and desperate, she wanted to sing for him, but none of the songs she once knew by heart were coming to her. The song of Jonquil and Florian felt as far away as Winterfell, and she was certain that neither of them wanted to hear the The Rains of Castamere ever again if they could help it.
But she wanted to sing.
Sandor's hand slipped from her face a little and finally Sansa's mouth opened, and a song came forth, she'd memorized it for the Scepta, but never had a particular fondness for it and so wasn't sure if she was even had the words right. She sang quietly, trying not to disturb anyone else, and Sandor's falling hand clutched her dress, pulling her downward so he could hear better.
"It feels so warm when you are near
You are all I want to feel
Tell me now, is this for real?
It's hard to breath
We're all lost in travelled time, cannot find my peace of mind
When the sun will rise again, we'll fly away
Take the stairs to the stars
Wander long, travel far
Someday…
A summer breeze makes all of our winters freeze
Autumn leaves
There's no chance for spring's romance
We linger on but leave the past behind us
Old lovers live it all anew
But chances are so few…"
The song had always made Sansa sad when she was learning it, probably why she hadn't enjoyed singing it, but the lyrics seemed to soothe Sandor. His arm quit shaking as she sang and he stopped pulling on her dress as he listened. She still wasn't sure Sandor thought this was anything more than a dream as she continued the song, she got through it's entirety without interruption.
The torches outlined Sandor's face, but his expression was still impossible to see even as close as he had pulled her. Sandor hadn't released his grip on her dress, Sansa reached up to try and pry his fingers off so she could scoot away. When she did he pulled downward again, taken by surprise Sansa let out a small gasp, but then her lips were suddenly against his.
It was nothing like her dreams, his lips were hard and and unmoving. It took Sansa a moment to realize he wasn't even awake anymore, so this kiss must have been nothing more than an accident. Still, her face turned hot and she pulled away as quickly as she could.
She didn't scoot away, however.
Exhaustion from having barely slept the night before suddenly caught up to Sansa all at once. She laid down away from Sandor, her face still flushing over the accidental kiss, and was in a deep sleep again in moments. By morning no other dreams had come to her, and she was awoken by a loud, angry complaint.
"What the fuck did you do to my sword!?"
She opened her eyes and sat up startled, Sandor was awake, standing and attempting to get his armor on while Gendry stood before him presenting his reforged blade. "I-I thought-" Gendry was at a loss for what to say, obviously surprised that the Hound wasn't as impressed with his craftsmanship as Sansa had been.
Sansa herself was a little taken back as well. Though she hadn't expected Sandor to praise the detail that had gone into the extra work, she had at least thought he could appreciate having his sword back. Apparently not, Sandor seemed furious about it, like he'd rather just have a new one altogether than have the blade decorated with a custom design.
"You thought wrong. I don't want your fucking fancy sword, I don't want any of you fucking coddling me and I don't want any fucking milk of the poppy. I want my gold, my horse and to get the fuck out of here!" Sandor growled.
Sansa noticed Arya standing not far off, her sister was staring at him, then glanced her way with a glare as if to say, see what he's like? Sansa stood up and quickly walked over to them and took the sword from Gendry. "You did a fine job," She said with a smile and handed it to Sandor, "Milk of the Poppy's probably just made is temper a little quicker-"
"-Milk of the Poppy's done shit to my temper, it's made me overly aware of the existence of my own tongue-" Sandor muttered.
Sansa ignored him and his language "-But I'm sure once he actually starts using it he'll realize it's just as good as it was before."
It seemed like a long time ago he had handed her a knife and told her a rhyme like she was a child, now the tables had turned and now Sandor was the one being scolded. His lips curled up and his teeth were bared as if he were about to snarl, but he took his sword and said nothing more of the the wings carved into the blade.
He sheathed it and clicked his shoulder armor into place, "And my gold?" He growled unhappily.
"Beric told me to give you this." Gendry said, though any faith he might have had that the piece of paper he gave the Hound would please the man was completely shattered.
Sandor took the paper and looked it over, Sansa saw his temper rising even before he threw it on the ground angrily, "What absolute shit-"
"-Beric said you'd be repaid in full when the is over." Gendry tried to explain.
"Absolute shit!" Sandor snarled a second time, "And what if I'm dead by the time this war is over, huh? What use is my gold to a dead man!?"
"The Brotherhood need gold to fund their efforts." Gendry answered, clearly only repeating something that Beric, maybe Thoros had told him.
Gods, Sansa realized, that must be what I sound like to Sandor.
"I need my gold!" The Hound barked loudly enough to draw some attention his way, and he quieted his voice when he spoke again, "And I'm especially gonna need it if I'm dragging the two of them along."
She must have missed the part where Gendry had explained that he was helping young man repeated the answer with a mumbled apology that there was nothing he could do. "Your horse is being saddled and will be ready for you to leave in an hour." He said.
"No way in seven hells would Stranger let them get him ready, where is he I'll saddle him myself!" The Hound barked again, a passing group of Brothers quickened their pace making the only thing they could hear was that familiar 'for the night is dark and full of terrors'. Sandor rolled his eyes and touched his sword "And the next man I hear say that I am going to fucking gut!"
Sansa cast a worried glance at Gendry as Sandor shoved his way passed without waiting for an answer about where his horse was. They were running out of time, Sandor would be gone in an hour. Arya stepped closer as Gendry quietly revealed the latest version of the plan. "They're going to blindfold him again, but his horse will know the way back. You have to sneak out tonight and follow the water, he'll find you."
"I'm not going." Arya protested, "Not with him. And not without you."
"I'm not leaving." Gendry told her.
"We could steal a horse, maybe two, ride out and find Hot Pie!" Arya said, she sounded ready to cry.
Sansa couldn't help noticing that her sister would rather stay here with the Brotherhood if it meant being with Gendry, but wouldn't leave with the Hound even if it meant being with Sansa. How could her own sister prefer the company of these men for the sake of one, if she couldn't put up with one man for Sansa's sake. It made the elder sister feel a tinge of anger plant itself inside her. Probably jealousy too.
Arya would rather stay here with Gendry than leave with her.
Then again, Sansa would gladly leave with Sandor alone than stay here with Arya, and all of these men who wanted to sell them back to their family. The sisters were never particularly close and got on each other's nerves frequently, but how had it come to this?
Gendry shook his head and held onto Arya's shoulders, "You have a family, you belong with them. I've got no one."
"I could be your famil-" The moment was interrupted by Stranger's loud whinny, and a distant clash of steel.
Worried that Sandor might have started a fight to get his gold, Sansa ran off to see what was happening. She was relieved to find that it wasn't even Stranger that had made the noise and the sword fighting she had heard was just a fight between two men over some stupid thing she didn't bother to find out about.
However, it did cause quite a bit of distraction, and while many were looking on the fight, Sansa noticed few purses left unguarded on a makeshift table. Gold and silver coins spilled out of some and there were stacks left in piles at each chair, a betting pool for some game that had been abandoned to watch the fight. Sansa grabbed one of the purses without thinking, a handful of coin from the table and walked off without a word.
She ducked behind some crates, put the coins in the purse she had stolen, and carefully lifted her skirt to tie it next to her knife. As Sansa lowered her skirt again, it occurred to her that she had just stolen a man's purse, and coins that were not hers. A sick feeling welled in her, like the guilt that had eaten at her yesterday.
These men stole Sandor's gold, she told herself, and we will need gold. I'm just taking back what they took from us.
She didn't know exactly how much gold Sandor had been robbed of, but Sansa felt this made them even. There was a grim satisfaction to this thought that made her almost as sick as the thought that she had stolen from someone.
Ladies don't take things that don't belong to them...
…We need gold to get to mother and Robb, and when we get home I won't have to take things that don't belong to me anymore.
The two thoughts were both her own voice in her head, but something seemed different about the second. A rasp accompanied it, dark, bitter, like Sandor's voice. She rethought the sentence, trying to make it sound more like her own. We need gold to get to mother and Robb, and when we get home I won't have to take things that don't belong to me anymore…
I'm not going mad am I…?
Sansa kept up her routine from the previous few days. Smile, be pleasant, ask questions, get answers. Be courteous, don't make a scene, don't let them know you plan to leave. Gendry caught her at some point, telling her that Arya was still refusing to go. "She has to, though." He said, "Even if I have to carry her out while she's asleep and sneak back in later."
She only looked at him, almost as if telling him through thought alone that he would do exactly that. He ran off again, like he'd been threatened even though Sansa had said nothing.
She continued though the daily tasks she'd assigned herself, and found Sandor hadn't quite left yet. When Sansa saw his he was atop Stranger with a few men on their own horses to guide him out once he had a bag over his head. Thoros stood close to Sandor, speaking to him, Sansa couldn't hear what he said, but she could hear the Hound's angry bark."Piss on that and your fucking fire god!"
The priest visibly rolled his eyes and made a hand signal to have the bag put over Sandor and they were trotting off before Sansa could get close enough to even give a theatrical good-bye. She wondered what Thoros had said to him that had made Sandor react like that? Probably something about his gold, probably a number of things.
She ran into Beric and Thoros a few times after that. Sansa could see in their eyes that they knew she was planning something, but she smiled and nodded at them. She was a terrible liar, but she wasn't lying now.
Just not saying anything.
Which was a kind of lie on it own she supposed. Sansa found a map, she only got a brief look at it before the man standing over it left taking it with him, but there had been a few places marked. One was labled with a sigil she had seen around the cave, Sansa thought it must have been marking where this cave was located, and based on what she had seen made a rough estimate of where they were. Closer to the Red Fork than the Blackwater, that was a relief.
Sansa kept an eye out for Gendry and Arya, hoping to change Arya's mind about the situation. they were less likely to be caught if it was just Arya and Sansa sneaking out, rather than Gendry trying to carry her. Someone arrived with news of an army, which faction Sansa did not hear, but many of the men left to raid them. Night started to fall again without them returning, and still when the sky was black.
Now or never.
Sansa found Gendry, as promised he was carrying Arya asleep on his back. Sansa led the way out of the cave, stopping to talk to guards and keep them distracted while Gendry slipped passed. They reached the cavern entrance with no incidents, though Sansa worried the waterfall might wake Arya. Her little sister slept right though it though and Gendry disappeared into the darkness with her.
Sansa didn't get more than a couple steps before someone stopped her though. "What are you doing out here?" A voice said.
Sansa recognized it as one of the guards she had spoken to a few times over the last couple of days, "I just wanted some air." She said, her voice wavered a bit and she was certain that she'd get caught in a lie.
The guard didn't seem to notice though, "It does get a bit musky in there doesn't it, would you like some company?" he couldn't have been a year or two younger or older than Rob.
"Just some air." Sansa repeated, "I'll go back inside in a few minutes."
"Not necessary, if you want to take a walk I'll happily escort you m'lady." the man said, he turned around and walked a few steps out, Sansa scooped a rock off the ground. "A woman shouldn't be out alone. You know what they say, for the night is dark and- oooof!"
Sansa feared she wasn't strong enough to knock him out, but when she struck his head with the rock the man tumbled over, she quickly checked to be sure he was still breathing before she whispered "-And full of terrors, yes I know."
She dropped the rock and lifted her skirts to run along the small river before she found Gendry and they both waded into the water. She though he would give Arya to her and go back, but he continued to carry walked in silence, but occasionally Arya groaned in her sleep.
Only the light of the moon illuminated their way, and meager glow of stars reflecting off the water's surface. A few times Sansa thought she saw camp fires, but her eyes seemed to be tricking her. Her heart started to pound the longer they walked through the darkness, without meeting Sandor. and the splashing of their feet seemed to get louder.
This plan was starting to feel not quite as well thought out as she imagined, and fear started to grip at her heart. She heard a noise like the grunt of an animal and she couldn't help squeaking in surprise. "Little Bird, that you?"
The scream of terror that caught in her throat turned into a sigh of relief when Sandor stepped out of the shadow cast by a rock formation, Stranger was pulled along behind him, though the horse seemed less than pleased about their arrival. "Yes." Sansa called softly.
No words were spoken, Sandor found her in the dark and lifted her on to Stranger's back, followed by him taking Arya from Gendry and placing her carefully in front of Sansa. "And you are staying, correct?" Sandor asked Gendry as he mounted himself, Stranger made a noise of protest, obviously not used to this much weight, Sansa worried about it, but Sandor didn't say anything.
"Yes," Gendry replied, "I do think the Brotherhood truly meant to take her back to her family, but I'm worried about what could happen to her in the meantime."
"Don't trust the men you trust?" Sandor asked, Stranger clopped his hooves and nipped at the reings, wanted to move but waiting for a command. Gendry didn't answer, or at least Sansa couldn't hear an answer before Sandor continued. "Don't die. If possible I think it might be worth it to meet you again someday."
Sandor tugged on Stranger's reigns and the war horse began to trod away, Sansa looked back to say good bye, but dared not call out loudly. Sandor took hold of her shoulder and forced her to sit straight on the horse's back.
"No time, we need to get as much distance between us and this place before sunrise and someone notices you're missing." He said, "For the night is dark and full of shitheads."