As always, I'd like to thank wildsky sheri, my beta, for her much needed and appreciated help.
I'd also like to thank everyone who commented, followed or favoured the first chapter of this fic. I hope you'll also enjoy this one!
Sansa
The first rays of morning light were only timidly beginning to reach her small chamber and the air that entered by the slightly-opened window still had the freshness of the cold autumn nights but Sansa was nonetheless starting to grow impatient. She had been ready to depart for hours; her nervousness had made it almost impossible for her to fall asleep and so Sansa had finally given up all hope of being decently rested on the morrow and got out of bed in the black of night. By candlelight, she dressed in the woollen grey dress, warm stockings and underclothes that she had prepared the day before and tightly braided her long auburn hair. After making her bed, Sansa had neatly laid over the rich blankets a woollen grey cloak lined with dark fur that had once belonged to her mother and that she had so often worn at Winterfell. The sight of that familiar garment brought a momentary smile to her lips.
On the previous day, Sansa had packed the few belongings that she cared to bring along, choosing only the essential and more practical as it wouldn't be possible to carry much on horseback. Since she had outgrown most of her gowns, it wasn't such a big loss to leave her once-beloved summer silks behind. Servants had already carried her luggage to the stables hours ago; all that was left for Sansa to do was to sit by the window and anxiously twiddle her thumbs as the sun rose on the capital.
As the poison of fear that no-one would come and that this had all been a cruel play orchestrated only with an intention to torment her further began to crawl into her mind, Sansa finally heard a strong knock on the door. Without hesitation, she opened the heavy lock, too excited to even think to enquire about the identity of her visitor. In a strident creak, the thick wooden door slid open to reveal a young man who couldn't be much older than Sansa standing in the corridor. He was blond of hair, fair of face and his shoulders were covered by a rich crimson velvet cloak; Sansa would have taken him for Joffrey's brother if she didn't know better.
"Lady Sansa, I'm Julius of House Lannister of Lannisport. I'll be a member of the escort that will lead you to the area of the Golden Tooth so that you may be exchanged for
Ser Jaime Lannister," he recited in a pompous but serious tone.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she replied, curtseying gracefully to the young man. After shyly raising puzzled eyes to him, Sansa politely asked, "You talked of an escort; how many will we be? I thought the Hound had asked for only a squire to accompany us."
The young man frowned at her question. "I am the squire you've been told of, and the Hound and I are your escort. Isn't that enough for you? Or do you believe that you deserve an honour guard?" he retorted while glaring at her.
Sansa jumped at his sudden unfriendliness. Nothing new with Lannisters, she concluded before vainly trying to explain herself. "Of course not! It's just that… the way you were talking, it seemed as if-"
"The king was right," Julius interrupted her with a smirk on his lips, "you are a stupid girl. Follow me now. I'm to bring you to the throne room for your farewells to the court." With that, Julius turned around and walked away from her.
Sansa glanced in his direction as she re-entered her room. Am I to be surrounded by cocky Lannisters for the rest of my life? she desperately wondered as she swiftly draped her cloak around her shoulders and quickly ran after Julius. The young man was already halfway down the serpentine steps when she finally caught up with him. With a sigh, Sansa resigned herself. One more blond-haired boy can be handled for a few more weeks; it's a low price to pay to regain my freedom after all, she reasoned.
They walked in silence for some time, Sansa looking around as if it was her first visit to the Red Keep in order to avoid Julius's gaze. I hope that I'll be able to forget this terrible place, she thought, knowing very well that it would be impossible.
It was barely past dawn but the throne room was already filled with people. For a short instant, Sansa feared that Joffrey was planning one last humiliation for her and was eager to share it with all those noblemen and women that she had come to hate but she quickly remembered that the departure of a highborn maiden, hostage or not, required the presence of the whole court. Although, what assurance did she truly have that the king didn't want to chastise her one final time?
"Sansa, my lady!" Joffrey hailed her as soon as he saw her. "Come closer, I want to admire you before you leave," he sarcastically said.
Sansa reluctantly obeyed and knelt before him.
After eyeing her for a long moment with a disgusted expression, the king finally confessed, "I won't miss you. In fact, I'm rather glad you're going."
How was she supposed to answer such an insult? "I'm… so sad to hear this, my king," she whispered nervously. Why isn't he just letting me go?
Sandor Clegane was standing next to the throne, his dark shape towering over everyone that surrounded him. As always, he appeared unperturbed by Joffrey's rudeness and only stared straight ahead, not looking at anything in particular and scowling at anyone daring to glance at him. From where she was kneeling, Sansa could see the left side of the Hound's face and his burns were more terrible than ever under the merciless luminosity of the morning, the clear light emphasizing every gruesome detail of the scars. The imposing man was wearing his plain grey armour and holding his snarling dog helm under his arm but had not worn his white Kingsguard cloak, preferring a hooded one of dusky brown instead.
The queen's commanding voice suddenly cut through the heavy silence that had token over the hall. "I see you are ready to leave," she established with a slight smile. In a graceful movement, the woman slowly put a lock of golden hair behind her ear while turning her gaze to the Hound. "Sandor Clegane, you asked for a squire and here he is," she said while nodding in Julius' direction. The young man instantly bowed before her. "Julius Lannister is a distant cousin of ours, a Lannister of Lannisport. He was visiting the capital but must now rejoin his family. Since it wouldn't be safe for him to travel by himself all the way to the Westerlands, we thought that he might accompany you on your way." Julius grinned at the queen and she added while gazing at him with emerald eyes, "I'm certain that he'll make a fine squire."
The Hound grunted at that before rasping, "He'll do," but his eyes told a whole other story.
"Everything is settled then. You may go now, dog," the king uttered with an air of boredom while suppressing a yawn.
The Hound's only response was to bow wordlessly before turning around and heading toward the door. Sansa immediately stood up and followed him. As she left that dreadful place that had witnessed so many unhappy and tragic moments throughout the past year, Sansa couldn't help but feel a strange mix of relief and fear. What if, at some point, she were to come back to King's Landing for some unknown reason? She'd choose death over the chance of going through anything similar to the ordeal that she had experienced in that dreadful city.
The stables weren't too far from the throne room; only a long guarded corridor separated the two places but never had they seemed so distant from one another in the past. The gold cloaks posted along the rich and ornately decorated walls were studying their small group with open curiosity and Sansa was eager to be free from their stares. After a few minutes, the doors of the stables were finally in view and two guards opened them up for them. The Hound turned around and waved at Sansa to follow him; she did and the man showed her the way to a loose box.
"Your horse, girl," the Hound rasped while pointing at the chestnut mare that Sansa had used on her rare outings since she had arrived in King's Landing. She slowly approached the gentle beast to pet it; her luggage was already fixed to the saddle and a bedroll was hitched on the other side. Is the Hound planning for us to sleep in the woods? she wondered uneasily.
Strong hands circling her waist from behind abruptly took her out of her worried musing. Her eyes widened and she stiffened under their touch as they lifted her from the ground and put her on the mare's saddle. Sansa turned to gaze at the Hound's broad back as he stalked toward his huge black stallion; she still could feel the warmth of his hands lingering on her middle.
In one swift movement, Sandor Clegane jumped into the saddle while hoarsely barking in Julius's direction, "Hurry, boy! It's already bloody late!"
The young man uttered a shocked sound before replying, "Don't speak to me like that! I'm a Lannister of Lannisport, I'm not your boy."
The Hound snorted at that. "I know damn well you're not my boy, but you're a boy nonetheless. Now come, both of you." With no further delay, he kicked his stallion with his heels and the fierce beast hurried out of the stables.
Sansa was quick to follow his lead while Julius hurriedly straddled his elegant white horse; the animal was of good quality and it took him no time to catch up with the rest of the party.
Both the gates of the Red Keep and of the city were passed with no trouble whatsoever and the group was on the Goldroad before midday. The sky was cloudy but the sun was present from time to time. It wouldn't be so bad if the weather stayed this way for the rest of our travel, Sansa reflected, although she knew very well that there was little chance of that given that autumn had recently begun. Rain would inevitably come.
They were travelling side by side, Sansa between the two men. Do they truly believe that I would flee by myself in these unknown parts? Not a word had been said by any of them for hours; Julius still appeared to be put off by the Hound's harsh attitude and the man himself had not even spared a glance at him or Sansa since they had left the stables. The silence was becoming extremely uncomfortable for Sansa and she felt an urge to start some sort of conversation. It was what ladies were for after all: to lead discussions and make people feel at ease, she tried to convince herself as she opened her mouth to speak.
Jerking her head to gaze at the Hound, she politely asked, "How long are we going to ride today, my lord?"
"Till twilight," he growled without even looking at her.
Not very talkative without his wine, Sansa reflected, desperate to find a subject that could interest him. Since some details of their travel were still bothering her, Sansa decided to voice her worries. It would be as good a place to start as any. "We all carry bedrolls. Are we… going to sleep under the stars or-"
"Afraid to sleep outside, are you? I'd reckon you would be." The Hound turned his hard grey stare on her while laughing hoarsely before adding, "If we come across an inn, we'll take chambers there, but you can be bloody certain that those bedrolls will be used sooner or later."
The idea of spending a night in the gloomy forest that surrounded her was far from appealing to Sansa. Wild animals and disgusting insects would crawl around her during her sleep and their noises would inevitably wake her in the black of night. She had never liked spending time in the Wolfswood after sunset, when darkness made it impossible to discern anything beyond arm's length. With a sigh, Sansa's thoughts went to Arya, her long lost sister. Arya would be thrilled at the prospect, Sansa mused, but both siblings had always been so different from one another. I must be imbued by some of her boldness if I want to survive this journey without suffering too much. I am a wolf as well after all; wolves don't mind sleeping in the wild.
As Sansa was trying to gather her courage, Julius Lannister turned a scornful look on her before snapping, "By what right do you complain? As long as the exchange has not taken place, you're still a hostage, and you've no more rights than any other prisoner."
His retort had been so brutal that for a brief instant, Sansa felt as if she had been thrown back into the throne room to stand before Joffrey. She lowered her gaze to her pommel and bit her lip while holding back the tears of rage that were quickly forming in her eyes but the rasping voice of the Hound took her out of her building doldrums.
"She has as much right to talk as you do, boy, which means none. Both of you keep quiet! I'm in no mood to hear your fucking childish squabbles," he growled with annoyance.
From the corner of her eye, Sansa could see that Julius was turning red and frowning like a madman. He led his horse in front the Hound's to halt him and yelled, "I told you before, you dog: don't call me boy! I'm not going to tolerate that kind of treatment from the likes of you."
Sandor Clegane stopped his dark stallion and for a long and uncomfortable moment, the man stared at Julius with cold eyes, the burned corner of his mouth twitching threateningly. After what appeared to be an eternity, the Hound finally snarled, "You think you're doing me a favour coming with us, boy? I asked for a squire; I thought they'd give me some unknown but hardworking lad. Now I'm stuck with a buggering green boy who has never seen anything but castles and noblemen." He spat to express his disgust and brought his horse closer to Julius before adding, "Until you've proven yourself useful, you'll be a fucking boy to me."
Obviously less assured of himself, Julius nonetheless retorted, "But I am a Lannister-"
"I don't give a rat's arse about what you are. Think that pretty crimson cloak of yours will help us when we're further down the road? We'll only get trouble for it; you should've chosen a plain one as the girl did."
"Award her no merit for that. Grey is her House's colour!"
The Hound snorted. "Seems like the Starks could teach the Lannisters a few things after all." With that, he passed by the fuming young man and continued on his way. Sansa immediately followed him, eager to flee from the wrath that was oozing from Julius. Who would have predicted that I would one day rush to Sandor Clegane to avoid someone else's rage? she mused as she glanced back at the blond young man behind her.
The light was getting dimmer by the minute and Sansa was beginning to be apprehensive that they would have to sleep in the open when an inn finally came into view. Without a word, the Hound rode in its direction, both Sansa and Julius following in his path. They were greeted by a dirty and skinny stable boy who directed them to the entry of the place while wordlessly taking the reins of the horses.
The common room was full but the innkeeper nevertheless assured the Hound that there were still enough rooms left for them.
"Want a bath, little bird? Can't be certain of when we'll come across an inn again," the Hound rasped flatly, while paying the old man behind the counter.
Only one day on the road had dirtied her as she would have never imagined possible; Sansa couldn't even guess how covered with filth she would end up after weeks of travelling. "Yes, of course. Thank you, my lord," she said politely while lowering her gaze to her stained hands.
"A bath to the girl's room," the Hound ordered while tossing an extra coin at the innkeeper.
Her eyelids were getting heavier by the second. Sansa could hardly keep them open as she followed Sandor Clegane to her chamber.
When they were in front of the door, the Hound grabbed her jaw and lifted her head to make sure that she would look at him before saying, "Listen, girl. You lock your door. I'll stay outside and wait for your bath to arrive. Don't open to anyone but me, understood?"
"Yes, my lord," she murmured almost inaudibly.
He let go of her and opened the door; Sansa hurried inside. One day gone! One day less until the end of my ordeal! she repeated to herself, tired as never before in her life as she sat on her straw bed.