The whole week Sansa had wished that this day would never have to come, but it did.
She would be Lady Clegane by sundown.
The bride to be woke up with a groan.
"You're finally awake my lady." She heard Shae say. "I thought you would try to sleep the day away."
"If I could, I would never have to marry The Hound." Sansa said, propping herself up on her bed. Shae walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down, like the way she did a few days before, and held her hand. Shae didn't say anything. She examined her face, and looked into Sansa's Tully blue eyes, with her large, brown, and warm ones staring back, giving her silent comfort. Her eyes read: it's going to be okay. Feeling a sense of new-kindled hope, Sansa shifted out of her bedsheets and swung her long, pale legs over the edge of the bed, sitting sideways to Shae.
"It'll be okay." Sansa said, turning to look at Shae, who returned her statement with a small, warm smile.
"It will." She gave the girl's had a squeeze. So young, so innocent; a child bride, Shae thought.
"They brought me your gown for tonight my lady, do you want to see it?" Shae asked. With excitement Sansa replied: "Yes of course. I'm been dying to see."
Shae brought the dress over and held it up for Sansa. The dress looked very southern with an off the shoulder neckline, column shaped bottom, and swirling leaf and flower patterned fabric design. At the top of the dress simple roses and birds were embroidered. The dress was made of a light grey, thick, cashmere. It was one of the least conservative dresses she would probably ever wear, very much unlike the dresses she wore every day in Kings Landing. She always dressed modestly like her lady mother. But this dress was definitely from Highgarden, and reminded Sansa of the beautiful flowing gowns that Margaery wore. Less revealing of course, but a statement nonetheless. And a statement it was.
Sansa wiped a tear away from her eye at the sight of her house colors. Surely Cersei and the rest of the Lannisters wouldn't be happy about the color choices. It was clearly a statement from Margaery and her grandmother. She silently thanked them, and knew that she would repay them as soon as she could. The Stark girl hadn't worn her house colors since she left Winterfell.
"It's beautiful."
"You will look even more beautiful in it tonight." Shae said, smiling. "The Queen has asked to dine with you in the gardens this afternoon, along with Lady Margaery." Shae's smile quickly melting into a frown.
In the gardens, the shade was cool, and a gentle breeze could be felt blowing off the Blackwater. Any other day Sansa would have enjoyed dining in the gardens under these weather conditions, but not today.
"Did you have a chance to look at the dress my lady?" Margaery asked sweetly. The queen regent raised her eyebrow, looking at Sansa to see her response.
"I did, and I am most grateful to you and your grandmother Lady Margaery. It's so beautiful…" Sansa trailed off, uncomfortable under Cersei's stare.
"I'm delighted to hear that. You will look beautiful tonight, I know it." Margaery said with her signature smile.
"What color is the gown?" Cersei asked, unamused.
"It's very light color, your Grace. In the morning sunlight I couldn't quite tell what shade it was." Sansa said, uncomfortable to reveal the color to the Queen Regent. Which was silly of her because by tonight she would see the dress anyways. Sansa was afraid that the Queen might refuse to let her wear it or yell at her.
"Ah, I see. Come tonight we'll know, won't we?" She replied, looking towards Margaery. Sansa couldn't tell who looked more unhappy to be there, her or Cersei. If Margaery was uncomfortable, she clearly didn't express it.
"Tonight, yes. How are you feeling Sansa, are you nervous?" Margaery asked Sansa. Again, the queen watched Sansa for her response.
"Isn't every bride to be nervous before her wedding night?" Sansa said, quickly grabbing a small cake off the table in hopes that she wouldn't be asked any more questions about the wedding while she was eating.
"Were you nervous on your wedding day, your Grace?" Margaery countered.
"Yes. But then again Robert was no Sandor Clegane. That day I was the most envied girl in all of Westeros. Robert was tall, proud, fit like a bull, and handsome." Cersei said, adding the last bit just to hurt Sansa more.
"Is that so your Grace," Sansa said flatly.
Sansa did look beautiful. The dress complimented her creamy complexion and her bright blue eyes, and contrasted the fiery brightness of her auburn hair. Sansa had requested to have her hair left down, not wanting her hair to be done in the southern fashion. One of the handmaidens sent by the queen protested, but Sansa remained firm. In the end, Sansa's hair was styled in a half up and half down style: two braids coming from behind her ears, and falling into the gentle waves of hair behind her. When she looked in the mirror she couldn't believe the girl who was staring back at her was herself. A beautiful maid, a bride to be.
Before she left her chamber to be escorted to the sept, she looked at her reflection once more. She looked so much like her lady mother, and thought, I am a Stark, I can be brave.
At the sept's doors she was greeted by Joffrey, who told her that because her father was dead, he being the "father of the kingdoms" would be the one walking her down the aisle to her intended.
Sandor Clegane.
He stood all the way at the end of the sept, immediately catching Sansa's gaze upon her entry. She couldn't read his expression, he looked very different somehow. Maybe it was the way the dying afternoon light pooled into the sept. Or maybe Sansa's mind was playing tricks on her and he didn't look any different at all. Certainly he didn't look anymore handsome, but from far away she couldn't really tell.
I can be brave.
Sansa took Joffrey's arm as she walked down the stairs of the sept and onto the aisle. She kept her spine straight and made sure she didn't cast her eyes down. At the front she could see a hint of fury flicker across the queen's countenance; Margaery gave her a soft smile. Sansa made sure she didn't look at anyone but her intended for too long. She was going to make a statement: she was going to show them that she's a Stark of Winterfell.
She wasn't afraid, not anymore.
Upon reaching the top of the steps at the end of the sept, she realized what looked so different about The Hound. It was his eyes. They weren't filled with the usual anger that she had always seen, nor was it the gentleness that she saw briefly at times. No, it was something else. He looked at her in a way that no other man had looked at her before. His mouth was slightly agape, and he just looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time, with a sense of clarity.
"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." The septon said.
Sansa turned around, and The Hound draped a yellow and black maiden-cloak around her shoulders. From the texture, Sansa could feel that the cloak was well worn. She then turned, and faced her intended, looking up at him as he seemed to tower over her. Her expression matched his.
They held out their hands: The Hound's large atop her small, delicate other to be symbolically bound by the light of the Seven.
"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one, for eternity. Look upon each other and say the words."
At first Sansa's voice quivered, but by the end her voice was filled with composure and clarity. The Hound seemed almost reluctant to say the words, audibly snorting at the septon. By the end he too sounded more confident in what he was saying, both their voices coming together to make one steady sound.
"Father, Smith, Warrior, Maiden, Mother, Crone, Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine. From this day until the end of my days."
"Father, Smith, Warrior, Maiden, Mother, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine. From this day until the end of my days."
For a moment the sept was still. Sansa looked up at him, and he back down at her. There was only one last thing to do. She let her eyes wander across his face: the hook of his nose, his sharp cheekbones and his heavy brow. His eyes were a soft grey. She made to sure to look at his burns, twisted and ugly as they were, but in the warm, yellow sunlight, they didn't look as awful. In that moment they looked into each other's eyes, searching. Sansa then stood on her tips of her toes, and placed her hand gently on his breast so that she could reach his lips for their wedding kiss. She heard him clear his throat, and then leaned down to give her a quick, dry, peck on the lips.
Everyone clapped, Sansa forced herself to smile, her lord husband cleared his throat again.
Notes:
I really love Sansa and Shae's relationship in the HBO series, until it turned sour of course.
Westeros wedding traditions are really interesting, and the vows they take are so beautiful. I wish GRRM or HBO would give us a northern style wedding though.