Hi everyone! Here's a brand-new chapter that I hope that you'll all enjoy very much! As always, comments are more than welcomed! :)

Special thanks to my beta wildsky_sheri for her help!

Sansa

For about half an hour, the thugs had led Sansa and Julius at the fastest pace that they could manage deep into the forest, without exchanging so much as a word with their captives and only a few with one another. During one of those sparse dialogues, Sansa had nonetheless overheard one of the bandits calling the bearded man Robert. Like the old king, she had observed, although apart from the name and the dark beard, the man didn't share much with Joffrey's late father, with his small build and tattered clothes. Yet, Robert was no exception among his group: his companions' demeanours and garments stank of poverty and even the old beasts that carried them had obviously known better days, but what else could be expected from poor wanderers like them?

"What do you want from us?" Sansa suddenly asked as the urge of at least knowing her fate – whatever it might be – was becoming unbearable.

Turning his gaze on her, Robert slowed his mount. "Calm down, lass. As we told you, no one will hurt you. Only, we have need of the gold we can get if we ransom the both of you."

"Ransom? But who will you ransom us to?" Sansa worriedly asked as dread that she would be brought back to the Lannisters overtook her.

Grinning, the man replied, "Well, although the Lannisters of Lannisport aren't as rich as their cousins of Casterly Rock, they're still richer than the likes of us and we'll find good use for their gold. As for you, lass, I'm sure that the sister of the Young Wolf must be worth her weight in gold-"

Gasping immediately as she heard Robert's assumptions, Sansa turned wide eyes on him. "How... how do you know?"

The man laughed at her reaction before explaining himself with blatant amusement. "We suspected it from the beginning. Tell me, why would King Joffrey send his favourite guard to wander the Westerlands only to deliver a lesser cousin home? Since the boy is clearly not worth the trouble, we figured that you were the one that the Hound truly looked after. Deducing the rest afterward wasn't too hard: the young king has a new betrothed - thus he has put Sansa Stark aside - and since the Kingslayer is still hostage to the Northerners, it's only natural that an exchange would occur to retrieve His Grace's uncle." Eyeing Sansa, Robert grinned, clearly pleased with the turn of events. "You'd like to know though, what really tipped us off?"

Sansa stayed silent but gazed at him intently.

"That devoted Hound of yours pretty much confirmed our suspicions when he chose to sleep against your door last night. Only a man guarding a treasure would sacrifice a real bed to bunk down in a spartan corridor..." His expression now softer, Robert smiled at Sansa. "You don't have to worry though. We have every intention of delivering you to your family and no one will touch you in any improper way. You're as safe with us as you were with the Hound and very soon, you'll be with your brother. We heard that he was in Riverrun, so that's where were heading."

"That's not where the exchange was supposed to take place -"

"Where it was supposed to take place doesn't matter much to us: we're not interested in exchanging you for Ser Jaime Lannister! No, as I told you, we want gold. We're poor folk here; those precious dragons will help us feed our people while you nobles bleed us smallfolk to death with your damned war. Of course, I know that you and the boy here are too young to be blamed for it and so, I apologize for this situation. Try to see it as repaying some of the horrible injustices that we commoners have been put through by your kind."

"Oh, I see... and you think that there will be more gold in Riverrun, my lord? That's why were heading there?" Sansa asked flatly.

"That's what we're hoping." Robert paused a moment before adding with a gentle smile, "By the way, no need to give lords or sers to any of us, lass. We're only a bunch of smallfolk; none of us have titles. No, call me Robert, if you want."

Sansa nodded but quickly looked elsewhere. Well, they certainly don't seem as bad as I first thought they were. They'll bring me back to my family. Naught has changed, really... so why do I feel so uneasy? Being dragged into the woods by force certainly hadn't helped to put her at ease but her situation was for the most part totally unchanged. A pawn is only valued by what it can be traded with, that's all I am… sometimes I feel like that's all I'll ever be. Only, there was no denying that although she had been Sandor Clegane's prisoner, the man had nonetheless slowly gained her trust throughout their travels and even managed to bring her a measure of security that she was now starting to miss. The Hound. Where is he? What is he doing?

Suddenly curious, Sansa jerked her head toward Robert. "How did you know that the Hound wouldn't be with us?"

"We weren't certain but one of us went into the woods to create a diversion. Apparently it worked."

The muffled scream... Sansa realised with guilt. So this is my fault, after all. The Hound would never have left us if not for me. Is he looking for us right now? she wondered while glancing furtively around her.

"It's getting late, let's set up camp!" Robert yelled to his companions.

A man with dirty blond hair, whom Sansa remembered from the night before jumped off his horse and approached her. "Need help off your saddle, my lady?" he asked, a little too politely to strike her as truly genuine.

Hesitant and nervous, Sansa nevertheless nodded. Grinning at her shy response, the man hastily circled her waist with his hands and brought her down a little too slowly for Sansa's taste. "Thank you," she said afterward, her voice trembling slightly while she took a step back away from him.

"You're very welcome," the man muttered softly as he closed in on her.

"Stuart! Leave the girl be. I don't want her to regret leaving the Hound's company," Robert snapped, plainly annoyed by the man, who nodded and walked away still gazing at Sansa.

"I'm sorry, lass. That one doesn't always know how to behave. He's no danger to you, though."

Sighing, Sansa gave Robert a tight smile before turning to her mare and reaching for its saddle, but the man gently pushed her aside and untied it for her.

"Thank you... Robert," she whispered, while grasping the satchel and bedroll that he handed her.

An old man with long grey hair was working on a fire not far from where she stood while Robert and the man that he had called Stuart were setting the bedrolls on the wet ground. Where are the others? Sansa wondered distractedly. Julius was still tied up, although now lying on the ground. The young man was shaking like a leaf, his face wet with tears. Absorbed by the pathetic sight, Sansa stared at him for a long moment. I don't pity him, she realised, appalled by her own mercilessness. He used to mock me and play the man but now he's less than a boy.

"Sit down, lass. You need rest. Another long day awaits us tomorrow," Robert told her, pointing at an empty spot beside him.

There was no denying that she did feel tired and so Sansa obeyed, laying her bedroll between Robert and Julius. As she sat down, two filthy young men arrived with a few hares in their arms.

"The gods are truly smiling on us! First we came upon those two noble pricks and now, see what we have found in the snares!" one of the young men joyfully announced as he tossed the game near the fire.

Robert laid reproachful eyes on him. "Careful how you address our guests, Ulmer."

Grunting, the young man scowled as he began to skin the hares with the help of his companion.

Sansa hadn't eaten since dawn and thus when the animals were cooked at last, she had to use all of her self-control to not devour her meal in a heartbeat. As she was chewing on a chunk of the tender and delicious flesh, she realised with some guilt that Julius was unable to eat anything, tied up as he was and that he was probably starving.

"Aren't you going to unbind him? I'm sure he's hungry," Sansa murmured to Robert while gazing at her greasy hands.

"I'll feed him when I'm done with my own meal," the man muttered with his mouth full of meat.

"Why haven't you untied him? I don't think that he'd try to escape. He wanted to go with you instead of the Hound anyway."

The man jerked his head to glance at Sansa. "Yes, but that was before we abducted him. He probably doesn't like us as much anymore and besides, the lad might look inoffensive but he has most likely been trained in the art of fighting and so it's better not to take any risk at all." Smirking, Robert added in a low, satisfied tone as he gazed into the fire, "Moreover, I'd lie if I told you that I didn't take pleasure in this. You see, we Westerlands smallfolk have no love for Lannisters."

"Really?" Sansa exclaimed with shock as she turned wide eyes on Robert.

Grinning at her confusion, the man answered, "Yes, my lady. Commoners don't always love their liege lords. Respect and devotion don't come automatically; they have to be cultivated, same as the land." Snorting, Robert mused almost to himself, "Yes, the land. Ours isn't very fertile. Rocks, that's all there is around here, although some of those stones are more precious than others." His smile fading away, the man turned his gaze on Sansa again. "We Westerlanders are highly dependant on the gold mines for our sustenance, all of us here used to work in one. Only, now that this damned war is bleeding the kingdoms and food is no longer freely available, what's the use of the stags and dragons we made with our work? The Riverlanders have provided us with wheat and vegetables for as long as we can remember, but those days are gone: only halfwits would supply their enemies with victuals. Furthermore, if the rumours are true, most of their crops have been burned down by the very honourable Ser Gregor Clegane. Still, some traders are brave enough to come into our villages and towns, but they sell their goods at impossible prices. We can't pay."

Glancing down at the remains of the hare's thigh that she was eating, Sansa felt a sudden pang of culpability. "I'm so sorry, Robert. This is so sad…"

"Yes, it is, lass. Our children and wives are getting skinnier by the day and the only thing we're left to do is to watch them disappear in front of our eyes." A hush fell between them for a few minutes while the rest of the group kept on laughing and talking loudly, oblivious to the gravity of their neighbours' discussion. After a moment, Robert sighed and carried on. "All of our misfortune began when our dear liege lord, Tywin Lannister, decided to let his most rabid dog loose in the Riverlands." Laughing wryly, the man added, "His grandson did the rest when he chopped your father's head off…"

"Please, don't talk about that," Sansa whispered in irritation while staring at her hands.

"Sorry, lass. You get my point though. Lannisters have done nothing but wrong us of late. As for your family, we don't know much about them but heard that they were loved in the North and Riverlands. Still, we need the gold we can get for you."

"I understand now."

Giving her a small grateful smile as he wiped his greasy hands on his tattered tunic, Robert stood up with a grunt. "Dusk is at our door. You have any… business in the forest before it's too dark?"

Sansa blushed at the implication but she did need to make water and so she rose and followed him through the edge of the woods. They walked for some time until they were isolated enough for Sansa to be certain that none of the men could get even the slightest glimpse of her.

All flushed, Sansa shut her eyes in shame. "Please, could you…?"

"Of course," Robert hurriedly replied, an embarrassed smile on his lips while moving away from her.

As he turned his back on her, Sansa uttered a resigned sigh. Robert wasn't far enough for her to be completely at ease but her bladder badly needed to be relieved and she was too weary to complain anyway. Turning around, she crouched and did what she had to, but as she stood up afterward and smoothed her skirts, she heard a strange throaty sound from behind her. Her eyes widened and she froze for a short instant before she turned around in one quick movement and gaped at what she saw. A few feet away from her, Robert was now facing her and wore an expression of utter shock and fear. His eyes were big and white and Sansa could read in them that the man had no clue about what had just transpired. A huge hand was covering his mouth and the point of a long sword was coming out from his chest, blood slowly dripping from it. Behind him, the dark and imposing shape of a man was standing still, as if waiting for his victim to die. An instant later, Sansa saw life vanish from Robert's eyes. The man behind him then withdrew his sword from the dead man's chest and let him fall heavily to the ground. Raising her gaze to the attacker, Sansa realised with some relief but no real surprise that it was none other than the Hound. The tall man wordlessly looked at her for a few seconds, a scowl on his face as usual, before he crouched and wiped his sword on Robert's tunic.

"Are you going to stay frozen in place all night or what? Come!" the Hound rasped impatiently with his familiar rough voice, as he rose and sheathed his long sword on his hip.

"You… you didn't have to kill him. He didn't deserve it," Sansa managed to articulate, her voice trembling, still shaken by what she had just witnessed.

Sandor Clegane's mouth twitched. "You're quick making friends. That damned bugger kidnapped you, remember?" he spat, while giving a small kick to the body to punctuate his words before urgently striding toward Sansa.

Taken aback by the Hound's rash actions and demeanour, Sansa unconsciously took a step away from him.

As he noticed her gesture, the man stopped abruptly in his way and snorted with contempt. "Now what? You want to stay with those bloody poxy thugs, is that it? I'll leave you with them, if that's what you want," he said in a tone that truly implied the opposite.

"No! I don't want to stay with them!" Sansa cried out in panic as she hastily ran toward him. "Please, take me with you!"

Grunting, the Hound grabbed her by the upper arm and began dragging her through the forest at such a fast pace that she almost fell over a couple of times. After her second stumble, he bent and slung her over his shoulder before continuing on his way through the woods. After what seemed like an eternity to Sansa, the Hound finally set her down on the forest floor. Stranger was just behind her and without warning, Sandor Clegane circled her waist with his strong hands and settled her on the horse's back before he jumped up behind her.

As the beast began moving, Sansa gasped in dread. "Wait! What about Julius?"

"What about him?" the Hound flatly rasped with obvious disinterest.

Jerking her head up to gaze at him, Sansa added in puzzlement, "He's still with the others!"

Sandor Clegane laughed harshly at her concern. "Why should I care? That little piece of shit has always been a fucking pain in my arse and nothing more."

"But he's your charge-" Sansa retorted in disbelief.

"Bugger that."

Lowering her gaze towards Stranger's mane, Sansa asked in a whisper, "Why come for me then? I'm your charge too."

The man growled some incomprehensible words, his previous mirth nowhere to be seen.

"We were both your charges!" Sansa boldly insisted, an unknown and desperate force giving her a courage that she didn't know she had.

"Will you shut that bloody mouth of yours, little bird, or would you prefer that I dropped you right here in the forest?" the man snarled, his voice as rough as steel scraping against steel.

The rudeness of the Hound's words did their work for Sansa didn't pronounce a single syllable for the rest of the ride, entering a numb state from which she didn't see much of her surroundings though the remainder of their flight. At some point, she did notice that they went across the Goldroad once again, but they were shortly back into the depths of the woods. It was pitch dark when they finally halted. Once the Hound had helped her from the saddle, Sansa sat on a dead tree. She felt as if she had just woken from a trance and was slowly regaining her conscience. Sandor Clegane appeared a little calmer and so Sansa decided to enquire one last time about Julius, if only to alleviate her guilt of abandoning him.

"Are we really going to leave Julius with those men?" she asked him with a soft voice, afraid that she would upset him once again.

Turning from his mount, the Hound gazed down at Sansa, his dark eyes boring into hers. "Aye, I already told you. I have no intention of risking my life to save that damned boy. Anyway, it didn't seem so bad being with those thugs, judging by your reaction when I thrust my sword through that bastard's heart."

Sansa frowned at his words. "Robert was a good man. He didn't deserve to be killed like that."

"Robert, was it?" Sandor Clegane snorted with annoyance. "If I'd known you liked him so much, I might not have wasted my time stalking after you." He paused to stare at her reproachfully before continuing. "They were going to exchange both of you for gold, I'd wager?"

"Yes," Sansa said with a small nod.

"Then you can stop worrying about Julius. The boy will be in Lannisport soon enough," the Hound explained, scorn filling his tone as he glared down at her.

Coming suddenly back to her, a memory brought a pang of sadness into Sansa's heart. "Robert told me that they were going to use the gold to feed their families-"

The Hound grunted at that. "Really? How nice of them," he rasped in a mocking tone before continuing, anger back in his hoarse voice as he approached Sansa. "Still, whatever the motivation, if you abduct highborn maidens, you're a bandit and you risk being cut into pieces by men like me. You think I'll pity a fucking thug who played a little trick on me before stealing my charge while my back was turned? I'm not a good man to provoke, little bird: I kill those who mess with me. Those peasants were overly and stupidly confident to believe that they could fool me and get away with it that easily."

"They did partly get away with it… you only have me and they still have Julius," Sansa retorted without thinking but realising as soon as she had closed her lips that she had uttered an insult.

Rage oozing from him, the Hound snorted and replied, "Julius! I don't care about him-" A strange gleam suddenly passed through the man's stormy eyes and he stopped mid-sentence, but only for a short instant before his face twisted into a deep scowl. His voice was low but menacing when he spoke again. "I never chose to have him as a charge and thus don't feel offended by them keeping him. In fact, I even feel liberated if you want to know, that's why I'm leaving him with them and taking you with me. Now, enough talk for the night. Time to sleep."

Sansa was tense as she watched Sandor Clegane hastily untying his bedroll from Stranger's saddle before almost throwing it on the ground beside her. His anger was so evident that she had to use all of her remaining courage to address him further. "You… Where will you sleep?" she almost whispered.

"Against that tree," he said in a harsh tone while pointing at an oak next to where Sansa was sitting. "Now, you sleep. You hear me?"

"Yes, my lord," Sansa answered nervously as she hurriedly unrolled the Hound's bedroll and immediately laid over it.

Sandor Clegane's eyes were gleaming with fury in the dark as he tossed her an old fur and sat against the oak tree, his armour jingling noisily all the while. A confusing mix of feelings that she couldn't quite untangle overwhelmed Sansa. She kept her eyes open for a moment, certain that she wouldn't find sleep but in the end, her tiredness got the better of her and she felt herself gradually fall into a comforting abyss of dreams and unconsciousness.