That night Sansa hardly slept. She had hoped that dreams would claim her so she could escape her misfortunate reality. But they never came. She was stirred by Shae, who clamored around her bed-chamber. Although she could hardly be considered a proper lady, Shae was kind to her, and Sansa knew Shae was one of the only people she could trust. When she noticed that Sansa had woken, Shae sat on her bedside, reaching out to grasp her hand.
"I heard the news. How do you feel?"
For a time Sansa didn't respond, how did she feel? She was cast aside by Joffrey, so that he and Margery could wed. Sansa would never have to bear his children, be his wife, or pretend to love him. I won't be his queen, she thought. I won't have to marry a monster. However, by escaping one cruel fate Joffrey created another for her: marrying The Hound. Sansa would have to bear his children, be his wife, and pretend to love him instead.
The Hound was a man who frightened her; in fact, he enjoyed frightening her, but he also treated her with respect. He was a man who spoke to her in a brutally honest way.
A man who enjoyed killing.
A man that showed glimpses of gentleness.
A man of a thousand contradictions.
He scared off Ser Ilyn Payne when he had frightened her, wiped the blood off her lip after Ser Meryn slapped her, saved her from being raped during the bread-riots, stood up for her on Joffrey's name day celebration, caught her and Shae trying to burn her moonblood stained mattress, and even covered her with his white Kingsguard cloak when Joffrey had her publicly shamed and beaten.
Why?
Why would he show her kindness, and mock her so? What was he gaining through all of this? He was terribly hideous, and cruel in his own way, and when the words Lady Clegane flashed across her mind, her heart sunk.
In no way did she want to marry The Hound; however, it was better than marrying Joffrey.
"I can't put it into words Shae."
"That boy is so cruel to you, you do not deserve this. He-"
"I am a traitor's daughter, with traitor's blood, this is what I deser-" Before Sansa could finish Shae gripped onto her wrist and glared at her, her brown eyes ablaze with a shocking anger.
"Stop saying that. The more you say it the more you will believe it."
Outside, a bird sang.
"I don't want to marry him."
"Would you rather marry that evil boy-king?
"Of course not Shae! It's just that.. The Hound is so.."
"Ugly."
"Shae!"
"It is true he is an ugly man, but as far as I know he is not the worst, no?"
"He told me that he likes killing, that it's the sweetest thing there is." Sansa recalled how he ran down the butcher's boy, Mycah, during their time on the Kingsroad, as if it were nothing. He took pleasure in killing and it frightened her.
"Well then he is either stupid man or a liar. Men love two things, killing and women. Especially pretty women."
With that, Sansa allowed herself to smile. Shae hardly spoke very courtly or lady-like, she spoke truly, and that's what she admired in her. It reminded Sansa of her lost sister.
"Don't worry about that man, I will make sure he treats you good my lady." Shae said, sitting up from the bed.
"What do you mean, what can someone like you do?"
"Don't worry. If he hurts you, I will kill him."
Sansa remembered the night of the Battle of the Blackwater; Shae had told her to run back to her chambers, then revealed the dagger underneath her skirts. Sansa was still unsure of who the strange woman called Shae was, but she knew she could trust her all the same.
"He won't hurt me."
"I will make sure of it." Shae said with her sweet smile, beginning to dress and prepare Sansa for her day.
That day she met with Lady Margaery and her grandmother, the Queen of Thorns, in one of the Red Keep's various luxurious gardens. She found that Margaery was as gentle, elegant, and cunning as the stories said, and her grandmother, witty and blunt. Margaery surprised her with a secret: one of the dress makers that accompanied the Tyrell litter to Kings Landing was going to make her wedding dress, in light of their new friendship. Sansa couldn't imagine the kind of dress Cersei, or any of the Lannisters, would have made her wear. Probably Lannister colors just to mock me, she thought.
Sansa had also had confessed that she believed Joffrey was a monster, the words coming out as a choke. This came at almost no surprise to the two Tyrell women. Sansa felt as if a weight from her chest had been lifted; she was no longer alone to deal with Joffrey's cruelty. Although she felt relieved, it was at Margaery's expense. Then again, Sansa was marrying The Hound at the end of the week. He was no Joffrey, but no ideal match mate all the same.
The Queen of Thorns expressed how she had wished to marry Sansa to Loras, and Sansa's heart leaped in her chest. Oh how she wished that somehow the Tyrells could convince Joffrey to let her marry Loras instead of The Hound! Loras was perfect, as if he was created from one of the song's about knightly valor and a maiden's love. Loras was a man as different from Sandor Clegane as... well, as a flower from a dog.
She then remembered what he father told her before he was arrested: that he'd find her a match who was more worthy of her, kind and strong. Surely her father would have agreed that Loras was the ideal match. Even though she was considered to have traitor's blood, someone as highborn and refined as she didn't deserve to marry someone as rough, mean, and lowborn as The Hound.
Sansa also thought of how her lady mother would react to her future union. When her mother got the news, she knew that she would weep for her; her precious daughter married off to a lowborn man. On the other hand, her mother would also tell her: "Family, Duty, Honor." She would tell her to be brave, to be strong, and to try to be the best wife that she could, even if she disapproved strongly. Sansa missed her mother terribly, and wished she was here to tell her what she should do.
The only thing that Sansa knew she had to do is that, she had to be brave. Walking back from the gardens, she silently vowed to herself that she would not let Joffrey know that he won. Sansa would try to be the best wife she could be to The Hound, and perhaps the best liar in all of Westeros.
Sansa and Shae had decided to take the long route back to her chambers, Sansa enjoying the open air and gardens tremendously. Most of the time she was locked up in her chambers, her only company Shae or embroidery. Sansa loved the way the sun felt on her skin, and how it made her auburn hair shine like bright copper. In many ways, The Hound's nickname for her was a perfect suit: a little bird, locked up in a cage wishing to fly free. A bird who knew only how to chirp the songs and courtesies her septa taught her. A stupid, annoying little bird, she thought, That's what he thinks of me, and it's true. A stupid girl, with stupid dreams who learns nothing. I only know my courtesies, and it's only cause me harm here in Kings Landing. She didn't want to be a little bird anymore.
Passing near where the men would practice arms, she saw the one man she was hoping to avoid, walking towards her with Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blount in tow. She could already see their mocking grins upon their faces, making her chest tighten. What would she say? Was he going to just walk by her, or would he stop to mock her in front of the other Kingsgaurd members? Shae gave her her usual strong look. She was there to help if needed be. Sansa thought about how Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blount would tell Joffrey of her and the Hound's meeting. Joffrey will not laugh at the story they would tell him, she promised.
"My lord, Ser Meryn, Ser Boros." She curtsied.
"Lady Stark, or should I say, Lady Clegane." Ser Boros said, mocking her. Ser Meryn chuckling to himself.
She looked directly at The Hound. "Are you off to train my lord?" She asked as politely as she could.
"What of it?" He replied harshly, obviously annoyed at her formality. Although he hated it, Sansa knew that courtesy is a woman's weapon.
"Just curious my lord. Do you train everyday then?"
"Just about. We'll be going on our way now." He said as he took a step to walk past her.
"My lord, if you have a moment.. I would like to give you something."
Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blount were thoroughly enjoying their little show. The Hound wanted to get far away from his future, chirping wife as soon as possibly. Joffrey would be roaring!
"What?" He replied curtly, showing even more aggravation. She could tell that he didn't like being put on the spot, especially with an audience.
"May I see your sword my lord?" She asked, making sure to look at his burned side and into his eyes.
"What the seven hells for?
"A gift my lord, may I see?"
With a grunt that sounded more like a feral growl, he unsheathed his sword, and held it out to her. And with as much grace as she could muster, Sansa untied the ribbon that held up her hair, her auburn curls bounced free. They cascaded down her back and shoulders, her face was framed by hair that appeared aflame in the bright sunlight. She tied the delicate ribbon around his sword's hilt.
"A favor my lord." She again looked him in the eyes, but this time she saw a change of expression on his face. It was something mixed between shock and anger. Without missing a heartbeat, Sansa bowed her head and kissed the blade. Looking up from the sword, she smiled as prettily as she could and said: "Until we see each other again my lord, perhaps that day will be our wedding day. Come Shae."
And with that, Sansa Stark swiftly walked away, with her handmaiden in tow. Leaving Ser Meryn Trant, Ser Boros Blount with a unbelievable story to tell.
Author's notes:
"A man as different from Sandor Clegane as... well, as a flower from a dog." Quote from A Storm of Swords by George R.R Martin.
"A stupid girl, with stupid dreams who learns nothing." Quote from the HBO adaptation, when Sansa and Margaery talk about Sansa's betrothal to Tyrion. Sophie Turner's portrayal of Sansa is amazing, and I just love that quote.