Hey everyone! Here's a new longer chapter that I hope that you'll all enjoy! Don't forget to comment if you do: it helps me write faster, hehehe! ;)
Sansa
The rain had begun shortly after their morning departure and there had not been one respite in the foul weather since then. Dusk was swiftly shrouding the sky, covering the forest with its shadowy cloak as the barely-visible shape of the sun disappeared behind the distant mountains before them. A bitter wind rose as if to greet the nightfall, bringing Sansa's exhaustion and discomfort to a whole new height. The draught penetrated her soaked and heavy clothes while cold droplets trailed down her frozen face; she shivered, shutting her eyes in a silent payer to the gods for a warm and dry shelter. The Hound, who knew the area, had assured her and Julius that an inn was nearby and Sansa could only hope that he was right. Is autumn always going to be so wet and chilly? she wondered with dread. A summer child born in spring, Sansa had entered the winter with curiosity but her initial inquiring feelings were now pervaded with the anxiety of what was to come.
"Look," the Hound suddenly rasped, steam coming from his mouth, while raising a steel-gloved hand to point a finger at what lay ahead.
Immediately, Sansa lifted her gaze and searched the horizon, squinting her eyes in an attempt to protect them from the heavy rain. She sighed in relief when she finally saw what she had prayed for only moments ago: barely visible, the top of a high chimney was coming out from behind the edge of the forest, a thick column of smoke filling the sky above it. With a whole new energy, the group hurried their mounts toward that tempting promise of warmth, quickly arriving in front of an old but neat-looking inn. A stable boy, alarmed by the noise of their horses, briskly approached them and took charge of the beasts.
The inn was such an appealing sight after her ordeal that Sansa wanted nothing more than to rush toward its door but a strong hand grasped her by the shoulder and stopped her on her way. The young girl turned her head around to see the dark shape of the Hound looming above her as his steely fingers picked up the long braid that was hanging out of her hood.
"Hide it," he told her while pulling lightly at it.
Taking the plait from the Hound, Sansa felt herself blush under his insistent stare as she hastily tucked it into her cloak.
"Are we going inside?" Julius exclaimed, while glaring at them before pushing the door open and entering the inn.
The common room was dim but warm and strangely crowded given the emptiness of the surroundings. Dirty-looking men were playing dice while drinking ale and some of them turned curious eyes on Sansa and her escort when they heard the sound of the opening door.
Without sparing them a glance, the Hound went straight to the old man who appeared to be the innkeeper and laid a heavy hand on the counter before him. "Still have places?" he asked.
The old man eyed him for a moment; from that close, he was certainly able to make out Sandor Clegane's scarred features from under his hood. "We do," the innkeeper finally answered. "How many rooms will you require?"
"Two. We'll need warm meals also, but bring some hot water to each room first; the children are going to bathe," the Hound rasped, while turning mocking eyes on his charges, obviously waiting for a reaction on Julius' part. He wasn't disappointed; the young man was fuming with evident rage but nonetheless stayed silent.
Once in her room, Sansa took off her cloak. It was so soaked that she had to wring it out over the chamber pot a couple of times before she could hang it in front of the fireplace. Her dress wasn't in a much better state. Even her shift and underclothes weren't completely dry but she nevertheless decided to stay in them until the hot water arrived.
"Your bath, girl," she heard Sandor Clegane's rough voice announce from the corridor.
Hurriedly, she grasped her cloak and reluctantly covered herself with it again before opening the lock. Two boys carrying a big and heavy cauldron entered and filled the bathtub with its steaming contents. Another boy followed with a bucket of cold water in each hand and added them to the mix. The boys all went out of the room without a word and Sansa was about to close the door behind them when the Hound's hand stopped it from closing, leaving it ajar.
Droplets of water were still running down his face, cloak and armour. "I'll come to pick you up for the meal once we're all dried up and clean. Until then, bolt your door, as always," he instructed her.
"I will, my lord," Sansa answered politely.
He only grunted and went away.
The bath was a real blessing from the heavens and Sansa felt like a new maiden when she came out of its warm water and slid into a dry gown. Sitting on the straw bed, she was finishing brushing her long hair when someone knocked on the door.
"Little bird?" Sansa heard the Hound rasp from behind it.
Finally, she thought hungrily while jumping from the bed and heading for the door to open its lock. Once it was done, the Hound abruptly entered and fixed his attention upon her. He too had changed garments: he now wore dark leather breeches and a studded leather jerkin with a large hooded tunic above it. The hood of the tunic was deep and concealed Sandor Clegane's upper face almost perfectly but only a blind man wouldn't notice his burned jaw and that terrible bone that Sansa had once been so appalled by. His long black hair was still wet and lank locks of it were coming out of his hood, dripping on the roughspun fabric of his tunic. After an instant of staring, the Hound closed the door behind him. Sansa sighed; it wasn't fitting for a maiden to be alone in a room with a man that wasn't kin of hers, but she knew that if she voiced her unease, Sandor Clegane would probably only laugh at her. The Hound doesn't care about those kinds of precepts. Maybe I shouldn't either, nothing improper will happen and I know it, but it's hard to change from what you have been bred to be.
"The place is packed," he said after a few seconds, "might be better if you stayed in here. I'll bring you some food-"
Sansa bit her lip in disappointment; despite all the prejudice that she once had, she had liked the atmosphere of the common rooms in which they had eaten during the past few days. Although the Hound could be grumpy company, she preferred the prospect of being at his side downstairs than the one of spending the evening in her room by herself with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling. "No, please! I want to come with you!" she exclaimed without thinking, only realising afterward how unladylike she had sounded.
The Hound laughed at her reaction. "Fine then. At your command, Lady Stark, but braid those locks and put a scarf on. Go on! No time to lose, I'm thirsty!"
Leaning on the stone wall, he watched as Sansa headed for the mirror and did as she was bid. A deep blush was creeping over her pale skin as she tied a ribbon around her long plait, trying all she could not to glance at the reflection of the Hound as the man brazenly studied her from where he stood. When she was done, having covered her hair with a large dark scarf, they both went out of the room and headed down the stairs.
Once in the common room, the Hound led Sansa to the most remote table he could find and sat her on a bench between the wall and himself.
"Where's the damned boy?" he rasped while impatiently looking around the room.
Sansa raised her gaze and instantly saw him. "There," she said, as she nodded toward him.
On the other side of the room, Julius was sitting with a group of men, a tankard of ale in his hand. Draped in his usual crimson clothes, he was laughing and appeared relaxed as he exchanged words with his neighbours. The Hound frowned when he saw him and was about to stand when Sansa touched his arm to stop him.
"No, leave him, please," she boldly pleaded. Sandor Clegane stopped and laid prying eyes on her. Suddenly cowed by his intense stare, Sansa lowered her gaze before shyly explaining herself. "Maybe if he enjoys himself tonight, he'll be in a better mood tomorrow."
Relaxing, the Hound smirked and asked, "Why would you care about that, little bird? The boy doesn't give a rat's arse about your frame of mind, so why should you worry about his?"
She explained herself in a soft whisper. "Maybe if he's in a better mood, he won't pick on me so much…he looks at me with so much hate sometimes, it makes me uneasy."
"You can't be loved by everyone, girl. Best you learn to live with that," he muttered gravely while leaning further back on the bench and stretching his long legs under the table before snapping his finger to draw the attention of a serving woman. "A jug of wine for myself and cider for the girl. And bring us our meals, wench," he barked in her direction.
The woman nodded and went on her way. Discreetly, Sansa glanced at the Hound and saw that he had apparently forgotten about Julius. She allowed herself a slight smile: although he would never admit it, Sandor Clegane had given way to her. It was good to finally see her wishes considered by someone after a year of feeling like a ghost in the capital. The Hound was a strange beast but he wasn't as feral as some people would have others believe, starting with himself.
Taking her out of her musings, the serving woman returned with their drinks and settled them on the table, leaving room for the boy who had followed her to put down two bowls of steaming stew. Sansa was starving and therefore she lost no time in inhaling a spoonful of stew while the Hound poured himself a full glass of wine. He emptied its contents in one deep gulp before following her lead, finishing his stew well before she did.
Licking his spoon, the Hound grunted while glaring at Julius, "Look at him! All puffed up and proud. The perfect Lannister, I'd say." He snorted at his own comment.
Sansa raised her gaze from her almost-empty bowl to glance at Julius. He did look puffed up and proud and so she grinned at the Hound's remark.
Suddenly serious, Sandor Clegane turned his grey eyes on hers. "Might be a good idea to drag him back to his room before he drinks too much and spills all of our little secrets to those thugs he's with." He tossed his spoon on the table and stood up. "Come."
With a mouth still full with her last spoonful of stew, Sansa nodded and followed him.
His back to the room, Julius was comfortably leaning back in his chair and had no clue that the Hound was coming for him. This is not going to be pretty, Sansa predicted as she took a few steps back toward the stairs.
"Time to sleep, boy. Come," the Hound rasped, while seizing Julius by the upper arm.
The young man turned around, an offended expression deforming his face as he squirmed to free himself from the bigger man's grip. "Get away! I don't need you to watch over me! I'll go to sleep when I feel tired."
"Who says that?" the Hound grunted, unimpressed.
"Me!" Julius answered before sighing in exasperation. "In fact, you won't even need to worry about me anymore; I'll be travelling with my friends here from now on," the young man announced while nodding toward his new companions.
A small but brawny man with a brown beard that sat at the other side of the table from Julius acquiesced. "We folks are heading toward Lannisport; we'll share the road with the young man," he said calmly.
Pausing to gauge the unknown man, the Hound appeared to consider his offer for a short instant, but then rolled his eyes in resignation and told Julius, "No matter how much I'd like to be bloody rid of you, I can't leave you in the hands of those thugs. Now you come, boy." In a quick movement, Sandor Clegane reached for Julius' arm but the latter recoiled from him just in time.
"Leave me be, Hound! I don't want anything to do with you anymore!" the young man yelled, moving backward.
A hush suddenly fell on the group of men as they exchanged looks with each another.
The bearded man was the first to break the silence. "So my suspicions were right: you are the Hound. What brings you so far from your den?" he asked, his gaze moving from the Hound to where Sansa was standing, closer to the stairs, "-and who's this one? Another little Lannister?" The man advanced, his grin showing off crooked yellowish teeth.
I'm not a Lannister! I hate them! Sansa thought furiously, her hands clenched in tight fists as she felt the stares of the men creeping over her in the most unpleasant manner.
"It's none of your bloody business who the girl is," the Hound spat at the man, before turning around and grabbing Julius' arm. "No fucking grumbling this time!" he ordered, while dragging the red-faced young man along.
As the Hound was nearing the stairs, a dirty blond-haired man stood up to rejoin Sansa before him. "Who could you be, lass?" he said in a soft voice, while gazing at her a bit too intensely. "A real beauty to be sure," he added as she wordlessly flinched away from him.
Intervening between them, the Hound snarled at the man while shoving him with his free hand. "Unless you seek trouble, I advise you to keep your distance from the girl, you hear me?"
"Calm down, I was only talking to her! There's no reason for you to react like this, I'm only curious to know who she is. We don't see pretty maidens such as her often in these surroundings, as you probably can imagine," the man explained, while scowling at the Hound.
"Keep wondering then," the Hound growled while pushing Sansa up the stairs with one hand and dragging Julius with the other.
Once upstairs, the Hound opened the door of his and Julius' shared room and violently thrust the young man inside of it. "You'll stay in there for the rest of the night, you buggering halfwit! You might have gotten us in trouble with that fucking big mouth of yours," he snarled, his voice as rough as steel on stone. Shutting the door, the big man turned his attention on Sansa. "The stupid lad!" he said, more calmly. "The boy has attracted a bit too much attention to us." The Hound paused and studied Sansa for a moment. "I didn't like how those bastards looked at you," he grumbled, almost to himself while eyeing her, an angry gleam shining in his dark eyes. "I'll sleep in the passageway, in front of your door. We'll see if the boors try anything then."
Sansa's eyes widened. In front of my door? she thought, before realising that since they had already slept side by side just a few nights before while in the woods, there was really no reason for her to be shocked by something so innocent.
"Bolt your door; I'm going downstairs to see if anyone has stolen my jug of wine. I shouldn't take long," he rasped while opening the door of Sansa's room for her.
Has Julius indeed got us into trouble? Sansa wondered, while taking off her scarf and gown. His companions had undeniably appeared to be interested by her but who knew if they weren't only curious, as they had claimed to be? Mayhap the Hound is a little too leery after all, she concluded while laying her tired body on the straw bed.
As she closed her eyes, Sansa heard the sound of someone crouching against her door. The Hound, she deducted as she heard him grunt and yawn while he noisily leaned against the old wooden door, which complained in strident creaks. Her eyes now wide open, Sansa turned around in her bed to look in the direction of the noises; Sandor Clegane's large shape was blocking most of the light from passing through the slight crack under the door. After a few seconds, Sansa heard a liquid sound and then a long and thirsty gulp.
"It was still there?" she asked just loudly enough for him to hear.
"Uh?" the Hound grunted, apparently puzzled.
"Your wine!" she continued, a smile on her lips.
Barking a rough laugh, the man answered, "Aye, and I took your cider too; no waste."
Sansa giggled softly at that. "Good night."
"'Night."
On that particular morning, the Goldroad was deserted but beautiful. Thankfully unlike the day before, the sun was finally showing itself and the yellowish earth of the lane was sparking under the bright light, giving it a pretty golden hue. Julius' hair was also shining like beaten gold under the sunbeam but nothing else gleamed about the young man on that day. His mood was as foul as ever and his skin was pale and sickly like that of a dying man.
"Wine is not for everyone," Sandor Clegane had whispered to Sansa while they were at the stables, a few hours before. "See how green the boy is?" he had added with a wicked grin, his voice a low and hoarse rasp as he effortlessly lifted her into her saddle.
Julius did look greenish, there was no denying it. The Hound, who had probably drunk three times as much and slept against a wooden door, looked dashing in comparison to the young man. Although, Sansa was conscious that not many men could compare to Sandor Clegane where wine and endurance were implied. Julius simply wasn't of the same calibre. Throughout the preceding week, the Hound's constant presence by her side had confirmed Sansa's previous suspicions: the man was seemingly indefatigable. Nothing seemed to bother him when it came to travelling. It didn't matter if it rained, blew a gale or if the sun was burning hot; Sandor Clegane had never yet lost even a hint of his strength and speed. As much as Sansa had initially been reluctant to be escorted by Joffrey's dog, she had to admit now that she was beginning to get accustomed to his rude manners, that they weren't many men with whom she would feel as secure in a precarious situation such as theirs. Very rare were those who could claim not to be intimidated by the Hound, especially at first sight. Most people that they had come acrosswereapprehensive, even frightened to approach such an imposing figure. Just as I was… and still am to some extent, she admitted to herself. I should be thankful for his fearsome appearance and rough ways; as much as I used to dread him for those reasons, it's also because of them that we have been left alone until now. My current relative safety is due to everything that I once hated about him.
As Sansa was silently assimilating these new realisations, the Hound abruptly halted his mount and raised a hand to urge her and Julius to do the same. Intrigued, she raised her gaze and saw what had drawn the Hound's attention. Approximately twenty feet from them, a slight opening in the forest led to a small and dilapidated house. Standing still, Sandor Clegane stared at the setting from afar for a long moment.
Breaking the silence, Julius grumbled, "What are we waiting for? This is just an old house. We have seen hundreds before."
"Not just any house, you damned fool. This one has been attacked. See how it's been broken down, even partly burned? Might be that war has travelled south and reached our path... or that there are bandits in the area. Anyhow, we'd best go check it out and see if we can learn anything," the Hound flatly explained, while kicking his stallion with his heels and slowly approaching the abandoned house. "Come."
Both Julius and Sansa did as they were bid, a palpable dread building between them as they began to grasp the scene in its entirety. Oh, this is horrible, Sansa thought, her eyes widening in shock. Everywhere she looked, the ground was covered with small pieces of rotten or burned wood mixed with broken household items in an ugly mess that carried a sickening memory of violence. Sansa felt her stomach clench painfully as she turned her tearful eyes on the remnants of the house and gazed at its high skeleton, rising eerily toward the sky like a cold, dark spectre, standing alone in the woods. People lived here, but every detail of their lives has been destroyed with no consideration. No trace has been left of whatever happiness they might once have had. Tears went rolling down her cheeks as Sansa's thoughts wandered to her own distant and broken home. Has the same horrible fate befallen Winterfell? War was an ugly thing, Sansa realised not for the first time as she began to sob in silence.
A gruff voice that came from the other side of the house took her out of her sad introspection. "You see that?" The Hound had left his mount at the edge of the forest to explore the site on foot and he was pointing at a heap of faded embers and ashes over which the remainder of smoke floated lazily. "People have been here recently," he rasped. "Let's get away from here."
As Sansa was about to nod her agreement, a muffled but undeniable cry for help resounded further into the forest. Gasping, the young girl turned wide eyes on the Hound who was staring in the sound's direction, his mouth twitching.
After a moment, he strode toward his stallion while glancing at Sansa and Julius in turn. "You heard me? We're going!" the Hound hurried them with annoyance.
Julius was getting ready to go but Sansa herself just couldn't move; her body was frozen in place. "We can't!" she almost immediately exclaimed. "We need to do something!"
The Hound snorted while raising his gaze on her. "You mean I need to do something, don't you? Tell me, little bird, why should I risk my life for some unknown bugger? He's not the only one suffering in this bloody war, you can be certain about that, and I can't save everyone."
Swallowing, Sansa nevertheless boldly kept her eyes on the Hound's. "You can save this one though," she retorted.
The big man stared at her for a long moment of silence, his expression more unreadable than ever, before a smirk appeared on his lips. "Aye, I can," he admitted with a harsh and short laugh, while patting his mount's side. "I'll go without Stranger. Less likely that I get caught by some bastards while I scout the forest this way. Meanwhile, you both stay quietly here with him, you hear me?" Julius nodded stiffly while the Hound approached Sansa and raised his eyes to her once again. "I warn you though; I might do nothing if I judge it foolish to do otherwise."
Sighing with relief, Sansa nodded while biting her lip. His usual scowl returning on his face, the Hound unsheathed his long sword and turned around before disappearing into the thick woods. Father, Bran, Rickon... they're all dead now, but the war won't consume everyone, some people can still be saved.
"You're stupid. We're losing time because of you. I really don't understand why the Hound cares to please you so much..." Julius spat while glaring at Sansa before heading his horse toward the road.
"Where are you going?We're supposed to wait here until the Hound comes back!"
"I don't care. I'm not staying in this stinking place any moment longer," the young man said, his voice filled with contempt.
Dumbstruck, Sansa followed Julius with her eyes as he moved away from her. I can't let him leave like this, she decided, kicking her mare to catch up with him. "Wait! You can't go!"
The young man had turned on the lane and was already out of her sight, concealed by the trees that separated the abandoned house from the Goldroad. Panting, Sansa brought her mount to a trot to close the gap between them, which she did in a matter of seconds.
As she passed the edge of the woods and turned onto the road, Sansa cried out, "Julius! You can't-" but her voice was unexpectedly caught in her throat by the spectacle that was waiting for her.
A group of men was surrounding Julius and one of them had a sword pressed under the young man's jaw. As they heard her arrive, they all turned their heads to gaze at her.
"We were hoping that you would join us, lass. Come," a bearded man told Sansa before heading his mount toward her.
I remember this man. It's one of Julius' companions from last night… Looking anxiously around her, Sansa realised that she recognised each man from the previous evening. What do they want from us?
"No one wants to hurt you, lass, but for that, stay quiet and do as we ask. Don't scream or try to run from us or else, we'll kill the boy. Understand?" he said as he approached her.
Sansa jerked her head around to see if the Hound was coming back. Where is he?! she wondered while nervously moving back from her attacker.
"I'm serious, lass! Do you want your friend's life on you conscience?!" the man said in a louder, more menacing tone.
He's not my friend! I hate him! Sansa though angrily, but still, she couldn't let those men murder Julius, she didn't want to be the cause of anyone's death, and so she froze in place, petrified by the horror of what was happening.
"You're a good girl," the man said almost softly while snatching her reins from her hands. "Now remember, not a sound or we kill the boy," he added as he hurried both horses along the road, quickly followed by the rest of his group.
Julius had been tied up on his saddle and the man with the sword was riding by his side, keeping an eye on his captive. Sansa gazed at the once so-cocky young man: he was trembling and his face was wet with tears. She felt her own tears starting to roll down her cheeks as she glanced behind her and saw nothing but the golden hue of the road as it shone in the afternoon sun.