A fly buzzed about the room, landing on her neck. With a wave of her hand, Sansa shooed it away, engrossed in her sewing. Stretching her back, she stood, laying aside the fabric and thread. Faint hammering drifted through the window on a warm breeze.
It had been almost three months since those men had appeared on their doorstep and almost three months since Sametyr had disappeared without a trace. Sansa had her suspicions about his fate but she would never voice them. Sandor was a changed man since burying his armor, even more quiet and reserved.
Every day was the same - meals shared in silence and hours upon hours of hammering, barely a handful of words passed between them. What little hope she'd had of a future together was being slowly chipped away.
Sighing, Sansa returned to her work, throat tightening with emotion. Tears filled her eyes turning them into shimmering pools of blue as she bent her head over the fabric. A sob caught in her throat as she violently dashed the tears away. Why do I even hope anymore?
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Sandor paused, the sun beating down on his back. Sweat drenched his body as he stripped his shirt off, panting in the heat. He turned towards the well, quickly drawing from it and drinking deeply from the bucket.
The cool water did little to alleviate the heat and he poured the rest over his head, desperate for relief from the sun. As the water dripped down his face, he caught sight of Sansa heading for the well. Setting the bucket aside, he stepped back, noting her swollen and red eyes.
His chest tightened at the all too familiar sight, sorrow filling his chest. She needs to be free of the burdens she's carrying. Sandor watched her face closely as she approached, her eyes downcast as she lowered the bucket into the water. She pulled it up, struggling to keep hold of the rope. In one quick move, he was beside her, taking the rope in his hands.
"Thank you." She murmured as he balanced the bucket on the edge of the well. Gently, he caught her face in his free hand, tilting her head back to gaze into her eyes.
"Are you alright, little bird?" He rasped, her skin cool against his rough fingertips. Sansa nodded, looking up at him with mournful eyes. Releasing her, he stared into her eyes, studying them for any clue. Finally he moved back towards the stable.
Her timid voice stopped him in his tracks. "You need to rest or else this heat will be the death of you."
He was surprised at the rush of delight that he felt when he heard the concern in her voice. A smile curled his lips slightly before as sudden thought crossed his mind. She's just worried about being left alone in a foreign land. The warning voice whispered and just as quickly as it had appeared, it dissipated.
"I don't have time to rest. I need to finish up out here." He growled, beginning to walk towards the stable again.
"What more do you need to do? Are you building a whole village out here?" Her voice grew stronger with emotion as she continued. "You swore an oath before the old gods that night in the godswood - you swore to protect me!"
Sandor spun around, glaring down at her. "You know fully well my belief on the gods, old and new." He spat, chest heaving.
"A sacred vow is a sacred vow no matter what you believe!" She retorted, eyes snapping with electricity. "Are you a liar as well as a murderer?"
"I am not a liar." He snarled through clenched teeth. "And I have already held up my oath, I made bloody well sure that man would never bother you again!"
Sansa's mouth fell open, color draining from her face. "I never asked you to do that."She said in a small voice.
"No, you didn't." He muttered, his jaw muscles clenching. "But it was the only thing I could think of doing to protect you."
"You like killing - you said so yourself!" She said softly, her eyes glaring up at him accusingly. "If you want to kill so desperately, then leave! Go find the Second Sons and join them - I don't care anymore!" Sansa turned away, stalking across the fields as he watched her retreating from, guilt flooding his soul. I will make it up to you, little bird, just you wait and see.
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The sun was setting as Sansa walked through the woods. The smell of freshly plowed soil wafted on a stale breeze, filling her nose as she trekked across the fields. Reaching up, she began to undo her long coil of hair, her aching neck desperate for relief. She had been praying before the weirwood, her hot tears watering its roots as she lay, pouring out her heart before the gods.
She slowly moved towards the house, chest tightening in fear. She wasn't very anxious to see what, if anything, awaited her inside. As she passed the stable, she caught sight of Sandor leaning against the house, whittling away at a piece of wood.
Her first instinct was to rush past him into the house but she stood, frozen before eyes remaining on the wood, only a slight shift of his head signaled his awareness of her approach. Slowly Sansa moved closer to him, kneeling down beside to look at the piece of wood he held. Her mouth opened slightly, eyes widening as she reverently traced the perpetually crying eyes with her fingertips.
"This is beautiful." She breathed, examining the intricate details before glancing up at him. "It must have taken you weeks of carving."
"Months." He grunted, his eyes still downcast. Sansa watched his face as he carved, before suddenly the realization set in.
"I'm a stupid, stupid girl." She whispered, sitting back on her heels. Sandor lifted his gaze to her face, his eyes blank as he watched her, hands hovering over the wood. After a moment, he returned to carving.
"I'm sorry about what I said - about you being a liar. You're the only person who has ever been completely truthful with me." Sansa paused, lips quivering slightly as she looked up at him, searching for the right words. "Please forgive me, my lord, for what I said earlier. I didn't mean it."
His eyes snapped to her face, his jaw clenching as he jammed his knife back into it's sheath. "I'm not a lord." He snarled. "You are a lady, little bird, but I will never be a lord."
"Maybe not back in Westros or even here in Essos but you are my lord and I am your lady. If I wanted to be married to a 'lord', I would have stayed in Westros or not said my vows under the weirwood tree with you." She moved closer, taking his hand in hers.
"I chose you, my lord and I don't want you to leave." Sansa murmured, reaching up to stroke his scarred cheek. "Please stay." She tilted up her head to press her trembling lips to his. Sandor stared at her in amazement as she pulled away, fighting the desire that suddenly burned through his veins.
"Your my lord and I'm your lady." She reiterated, gazing intently at him as she stood, pulling him up with her. Sandor looked down at her, lifting his hand to gently brush his fingers down her cheek as she looked up at him from under lowered lashes. He pulled her close, pushing back the fiery curtain of hair before lowering his lips to hers. He slowly kissed her, deepening it as her body formed to his.
Desire overwhelmed him as she wrapped her arms around his waist and he found it hard to think. Pulling her into his arms, he clutched her tightly to his chest, kissing her neck. "I love you, little bird." He breathed into her ear, his breath tickling her cheek as he carried her into the house. "I've always loved you."
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Sandor lay still, his heart still racing as Sansa slept. Her chest rose and fell, face peaceful in the moonlight. Gently he ran his fingers down her soft arm, a soft smile appearing on her lips. Her eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes, still sleepy. Her smiled widened as she met his eyes.
Sansa reached up to stroke his cheek before curling into his chest, wrapping her arms around him, his thick hairs gently tickling her face. Entwining his fingers in the mass of flaming hair, Sandor pressed a kiss to her head. Releasing his hold, he propped himself up on an elbow, watching her content face as she began to doze. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open and she looked up at him inquiringly.
"What?" She asked, smiling as she rolled onto her back.
"I can't help but think this is a dream. Like I'm gonna wake up and be back in King's Landing." He stroked her arm again, appreciating the feeling of her skin under his fingertips.
"Does this feeling like a dream?" She murmured, pulling down his face to kiss him. He smiled, moving to hover over her as he clutched her closer. Their kisses grew more intense as his desires overtook him for a second time.
Sandor lay back, his chest heaving as Sansa curled up beside him again. He could still taste her on his lips as the moonlight streamed in through the window, casting an ethereal glow about the room. After a moment, Sansa began softly breathing, her hand resting protectively on his chest. Sandor stared upwards, contentment filling his bones. I never knew how happy I could be.