Sandor had never seen the horse so excited. The warhorse squirmed in his stall and neighed cheerily at the sight of his master.
"Woah, there, there now. Woah! Stranger," he clucked as the horse nudged its massive head into him, nipping at him playfully. Sansa watched as Sandor pet the black beast and whispered affectionately into his ear.
"Here," Sansa said, placing an apple in Sandor's palm for him to feed the horse. Stranger ate the apple heartily and gobbled down a second one Sansa gave to him. She received a cheery nudge from him, which made her giggle.
"He likes you more than me now, hm?" Sandor joked. Sansa gave him a smile as she scratched the beast behind the ears and placed kisses on his nose.
After spending time with Stranger, the two walked into the septry's enclosed yard, where a large apple tree stood with a stone carved bench beneath it. Under the tree they sat, silently for a while, as Sandor sharpened his longsword with a whetstone.
"As soon as I'm well enough we'll seek passage across the Narrow Sea," he mentioned, still sharpening his longsword intently.
"To where will we seek passage?"
"Braavos might be our best option. I can speak a spit of Valyrian, and less Braavosi."
"Maester Luwin made us practice High Valyrian, and made us read poems and stories from great, old books. Although no one speaks it anymore," Sansa spoke.
"Either way, we'll get by. Braavos is closest, and we're bound to find someone who speaks the common tongue there. Braavos it is then," he decided, drawing the whetstone upon his blade a final time before he put it back in its hilt.
"What are we going to do in Braavos, my lord?"
"First we find somewhere to live. We'll probably spend some nights at an inn or two until we can find more permanent lodging. I'll get a job because my coin and your jewels can only get us so far."
"What kind of job? Will you be a bodyguard again?" she asked worriedly, knowing that if he were to become a bodyguard, there was the possibility of him becoming injured again.
"I don't know, little bird. Whatever I can find to make ends meet for the both of us."
"What kind of work should I try to find?" Sansa offered.
"No need to worry your pretty little head over those things. I'll work enough for the both of us," Sandor reiterated.
This surprised Sansa. On their journey, she knew that her lack of practical had irked Sandor. She was a lady, after all. But Sandor could be so selfless at times, and this Sansa admired. He was changing. Moments like this she saw less of the man he perceived himself to be and began to see the man that he truly was. Someday he'd be a proper lord husband to her.
Sandor stood, still favoring his leg, and picked two apples off the tree above, handing one to Sansa. Although the air had grown cooler, Sandor wore only the simple tunic and breeches that Sansa had made for him during their time at the septry. She could see that he liked to be without his armor, and he was more relaxed without it. Under her thick cloak, she felt comfortably warm under the apple tree.
They returned to the yard everyday so that Sandor could train, so that his body could return to its previous state. Sansa watched from her spot underneath the apple tree for hours, often reminding Sandor that he should take breaks. She fed him apples, cheese, and cold meat on fresh baked bread. Often eating wordlessly on the bench, they enjoyed the peace that fell over the yard. A kinship began to grow between the two, but neither of them noticed.
Sandor pushed himself to his breaking point each day. Sansa took notice, and sometimes when she called to him, bidding him to take a sip from their waterskin, he'd pretend not to hear her and continue with his training until his legs wobbled and his shoulder pulsated.
By the end of the day, he was covered in a thick coat of sweat, and his tunic and breeches stuck tightly to his muscular form. Sandor exhausted, Sansa would draw him a bath and leave to find out about their dinner. This continued every day until Sandor felt completely confident in his skills once more.
One late afternoon, the Elder Brother sat in his private solar, when a silent brother knocked on his door. The silent brother had not needed his words for The Elder brother to understand. He could plainly see the overwhelming sense of worry in the brother's countenance.
"Show me," the Elder Brother said, letting the silent brother lead the way. He was led to the septry's gate, where a group of ten to fifteen armed men on horseback awaited. Opening the gate with a large, iron key, the Elder Brother stepped outside the gate, while motioning to the silent brother to go back inside.
"Good afternoon, men. Welcome to the Saltpans' Septry. How may I be of service to you?"
The banners flew the sigils of Frey and Bolton.
"I, Lord Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort, and Warden of the North, am looking for Sandor Clegane, 'The Hound,' and his wife Lady Sansa, a beautiful girl red of hair. And I have reasonable suspicion that they have stopped at this very sept," the man said.
"Ah yes, the burned man and his lady. They stopped here for a while, for the man was severely injured." the Elder brother said, choosing his words with the utmost care.
"Do you know where they have gone, brother?" Lord Bolton asked, his eyes calculating.
"I heard them discuss where they should go from here. The lady said she has an aunt in the Vale, and that they'd be safest there since the Vale is impregnable."
"I'll impregnate that bitch!" a younger man next to Lord Bolton yelled. The rest of the men hollered along with him. Lord Bolton gave them a cross look, and all fell silent.
"Anything else, brother?" Lord Bolton asked.
"The burned man debated returning to the westerlands, but I believe they're trying to make their way to the Vale. They're probably at Maidenpool by now."
The air around them grew suddenly cold. Lord Bolton inspected the Elder Brother from atop his horse, speculating whether or not he believed the man's words. But what the man said made sense. Sansa Stark had no other kin. Edmure Tully was kept hostage at Riverrun, and the Blackfish escaped into thin air. Her Aunt Lysa Arryn was her only option.
"We thank you for your insight, brother," he finally replied, throwing a heavy sack of coins into the man's hands.
"May the Seven light your way," The Elder Brother said softly, as the entourage spurred away from the septry.
"You must leave at once," the Elder Brother said, as he burst into the couple's room.
"What has happened?" Sansa jumped from the bed. Sandor rose after her, reaching for his sword.
"Lord Roose Bolton and his men, along with a group of Frey men, were just at the septry's gates, looking for you. I told them that you had left for the Vale, or possibly the Westerlands. It is not longer safe for you here."
"We haven't found a ship that will take us across the Narrow Sea," Sandor reminded the Elder Brother.
"A good man I know has docked his ship a half day's ride over. I saw him when I was asked to perform a marriage a few days past. He sells salt and other goods to Braavos. His name is Karbo, and he can speak some common tongue. Just tell him I sent you, and he will grant you passage."
"Are you sure of this?" Sansa chirped.
"This I am sure."
That night, Sandor hardly slept. His chest filled with apprehension for the journey to come. He tossed and turned while Sansa stayed still beside him. A dagger was concealed under his pillow in case their aggressors decided to turn back.
She looked completely peaceful. Her lips parted slightly as she breathed softly. Moonlight flooded through the room's small window and cast a silvery light all around her. Her milky-white skin and her red hair had given her an ethereal look. Pulling her close to him, he nuzzled his face into her hair, inhaling her scent. He'd keep her safe, for she was the person he was meant to protect.
Clouds of mist and fog formed during the night, creating a white veil for the two Cleganes to depart in. The smell of salt and sea was strong. The moisture in the air made Sansa feel clammy under her thick clothing.
Her hair was tightly braided, and she wore a headscarf in addition to her cloak to conceal her fiery hair. Even in the thickest of the fog, anyone could spot her locks. Sandor donned the brother's brown robes over his black armour.
"May the Seven bless you," the Elder brother said, as he gave them the sack of coins Lord Bolton rewarded him with. He had kindly given them enough provisions for their short journey. "I have no use for these. Please use them on your journey."
"You have been too kind to us. Are you sure there is nothing we can give you in return?" Sansa asked, her eyes wet.
"Nothing at all, child," he reassured her. "Your time here has been a pleasure to us all. All that I ask is that you stay safe." He looked at Sandor knowingly. "If you find trouble in Essos, you are always welcome on the Quiet Isle."
A tear rolled down Sansa's cheek. She wiped it away, and kissed each side of the Elder Brother's face. He smiled like a green-boy, receiving his first kiss.
"Seven bless you both."
Sandor lifted Sansa by the waist onto Stranger. Sansa looked back at the Elder Brother one last time; his eyes showed their familiar warmth as he smiled, yet a sadness crept in behind. yet he looked very sad.
Sandor held the Stranger's reins close, but Sansa closer. Through her cloak's hood and headscarf he could still smell her sweet scent.
It was midday when they found the port. They found the ship's captain, Karbo, and Sandor told the man what the Elder Brother told them him to say. At first the man seemed skeptical, his deep brown eyes filled with doubt. Sansa peeped something in Valryian and the man laughed, recalling how he owed the Elder Brother a debt, and he immediately granted the couple passage and a small, yet cozy, cabin.
Stranger proved to be most difficult, kicking and bucking, unwilling to go on the ship. It took much coaxing and a few apples to get him into the hold.
Sansa had never been on a ship before, and she felt excited and extremely nauseous all at once, and heaved over the ship's side as it left the port. Seeing this, the captain laughed heartily, and chuckled something in Braavosi that she could not understand.
Their cabin was small: the bed was just big enough for the two of them, and there was little space to store their personal belongings apart from the floor space under the bed or next to the door. The room also sported a circular window that could be opened or closed, a small wall torch, and a chamber pot. Sansa hoped she'd get over her seasickness soon. Being confined in such cramped quarters could only make her sickness worse, she knew.
That night Sandor felt the little bird beside him wide awake, although he was turned away from her.
"Sleep, girl. It'll do you some good," he yawned.
"I can't," he heard her say.
"Why?" Sandor asked, as he turned around to see her. He saw her face streaked with tears. In the moonlight they looked like pearls.
Unblinking, looking up at the cabins ceiling, she rasped: "I can't stop thinking about how they died." Weeping, she continued, "If I sleep I know the bad dreams will come, as they often do."
Sandor knew the dreams she spoke of and wanted to give her words of comfort. But the dreams would never stop coming. There is no cure for nightmares, he thought. Until Gregor was sent to the worst of the Seven Hells, he'd never rest with ease. What would ease Sansa's pain, he did not know. He pulled her close until the lengths of their bodies touched. His embrace was unwanted, but she did not know how to tell him otherwise.
"We'll avenge them. Your mother, your brother, your father, and sister and brothers, " Sandor vowed, to Sansa and himself. He had people to avenge, as well. "My sword and life are yours."
Hearing this, Sansa turned towards him and buried her face in his chest. She could not tell if it was the motion of the boat or Sandor who rocked her into a dreamless sleep.
Notes:
-Off they go! I wonder what things they'll face across the Narrow Sea :)
- I'm still getting used to writing longer chapters- if anything feels out of place, or you think could be elaborated more on, please write it in the reviews! All your constructive feedback helps me to make this fic the best it can be.
-The scene the night before their departure was inspired by one of Kallielef's sansan works, which can be seen here: post/94735526657/au-future-sansan-living-somewhere-in-essos-and
-Sorry about the delayed update! I've finally settled into college, and I don't want to put this story on the backburner while I'm here but, I also have to focus on my school work too. My lovely beta queen-sansastark is also a very busy lady, so It'll take a little more time than usual for chapters to be posted. They'll be longer chapters though, so stay tuned!