Should I go after him? It was Sansa's first instinct, but considering that they had only started getting to know one another that same day, she really had no idea what Sandor needed from her in that moment. It must be quite a shock to find yourself home from a war, thankful you survived, only to find a letter waiting for you ordering you to return. Shuddering, Sansa could not imagine what Sandor was feeling.
Perhaps it would be better for Sandor to be let alone for a bit. Maybe I should just go. Sansa dismissed the thought as soon as it came; she didn't want Sandor to think she would just leave him whenever he got upset, and clearly, he was the very kind of man who would tell her to get out if he truly wanted to be alone.
Briefly Sansa wondered if she should say something to him about his health. Another tour of duty would be his undoing: she had seen how he struggled in the coffee house and another deployment could very well break him. Sandor was clearly showing signs of PTSD-and the last thing he needed was for her to abandon him.
Praying silently, Sansa moved to the window and stared out at the rain. Mother, Father, help me know how to help him. Give me the strength to comfort him, and to know the right words to say. Help me give him the comfort that I so desperately needed-and still do. The rain was coming down in droves, turning the mud and gravel driveway into a washed out mess. Streams of muddy water flowed downhill, bypassing the house in the drainage area cut out along the side of the property.
Even if I wanted to leave I could not, not in this weather. Sighing, Sansa decided to settle in and wait for Sandor to return. She suddenly noticed how sticky she was from working, and though Sansa believed it inappropriate to just strip off her clothing and bathe in a single man's house, propriety soon gave way to the desire to be neat and clean.
Maybe he decided to lie down a while. I wonder if Sandor would mind if I take a shower. Surely not. I cleaned his whole house for him, the least he can allow me is a bath. Tiptoeing down the hall, Sansa drew out two towels and washcloth and then went into the bathroom. After turning on the water, Sansa scanned the small space. It was clean but sparse, just like the rest of the house.
She took off her dress and hung it up next to the shower in the hopes it would freshen it up. Inside the cupboard she found a plain bar of Dial soap and a bottle of 2 in 1 shampoo, as well as a few hotel size bottles of body lotion, so she stripped off the rest of her clothing and climbed into the shower.
For a long time Sansa let the steaming water soothe her, cleansing her worries and frayed nerves. It was a habit from her days in Winterfell, one that had served her well. She would help Sandor as best she could, she made up her mind, no matter what it entailed. The feeling that it was unseemly to stay in someone else's shower for very long interrupted her thoughts and so Sansa quickly set about scrubbing her long hair and washing her body, hoping she would finish cleaning up before Sandor opened the door.
When Sansa climbed out of the tub, she carefully picked through the limited toiletries under the sink, taking a peculiar satisfaction from the fact that there were no products that suggested a woman lived there among them.
After drying off, she used a bit of his deodorant, rubbed the coconut scented hotel lotion over her skin, and hung up her towels neatly. Sansa stepped back into her fuchsia dress, wishing she had a change of clothes, for the afternoon had grown chilly.
Having found a comb on the cabinet, Sansa applied a bit of mascara and lipstick and then settled down in front of the television. Much to her delight, there was a John Wayne marathon on the movie classics channel. Settling back on the couch, Sansa then carefully set about detangling her waist length hair.
Before long, she heard the bedroom door open, but still Sansa kept her focus on the television. Let him come to me when he's ready. It was sooner than she imagined, for suddenly Sansa felt Sandor's breath on her ear, sending a tantalizing shiver through her body, even though he otherwise did not touch her.
"I couldn't just stay in there wondering if you were sitting on my couch wearing nothing but a towel." He rasped into her ear before climbing over the back of the couch and sitting beside her. Sandor leaned in close, nuzzling into her neck as he did so. "Hmm, you smell good."
"Thank you." Sansa blushed heatedly, moving aside to make room for him. "Did you rest?"
"You expect me to sleep with your scent on my pillow, Little bird? If only I'd known you were in my bed while I was showering." He grinned devilishly at her, the lewd implication of his words causing her to blush even more deeply. "There it is." Sandor smiled, tracing the back of his index finger over her cheek as he spoke.
Shaking her head, Sansa could not help but laugh at the fact that Sandor managed to flirt with her even when he had been so distressed earlier. "I-I was only imagining what it would be like to live here…I mean, that is to say, if you would ever consider renting to me, should you get deployed again." Sadly, Sansa shook her head once more. "I had no idea it would be so soon." Suddenly her eyes filled with tears, and Sansa bit her lip to keep from crying.
She felt Sandor reach out to brush back her hair; she timidly wiped away her tears and offered him a small smile. His eyes narrowed sharply with a frightening intensity as they traversed her face to her right temple.
"You got a boyfriend who likes knocking you around?"
Sheepishly she raised her hand to cover the scar. "No, not for a long while now. I was once engaged to a young man from Washington D.C. His name is Joffrey. His father and mine all but arranged it; neither of us really wanted to be married and I only went along with it to please him." Sansa paused to gauge his reaction.
Sandor stared at her intently but allowed her to continue. "After my parents and brother died, I ended it once and for all with him. His family is very well connected politically, and the break up came as an embarrassment to them. So when he came out here to see his uncle off to his deployment, he found out where I went to school and tried to persuade me to take him back." She gestured to her head. "What he ended up with was getting arrested and being slapped with a restraining order. Another uncle arrived shortly after, posting his bail, and then made him go back to Washington. I don't think he'll be back here anytime soon."
Fury roiled through Sandor's gaze as he leaned in closer and traced the silvery scar gently with his index finger. "The little fucker came to see his uncle, you say?"
"Yes."
"How long ago?"
"Come to think of it, not long after your own deployment. Why?"
"His last name Lannister?"
Startled, Sansa sat bolt upright "Y-yes, how did you know?"
"His grandfather is a general-General Tywin Lannister."
"Yes, that's him!"
"My father once served under him during the Vietnam war. After my parents died, he forced me into joining the service when I was very young, saying it was my father's wish, and that it would help pay for my medical expenses and the like."
"You lost your parents too?" Sansa asked quietly.
"Aye, under what was neatly labeled "mysterious circumstances". My sister, too."
Sansa sniffed. "That is just how the police described the death of my parents and eldest brother. It must be in the manual or something."
Sandor laughed without mirth, his lip curling into a sneer as he spoke. "His uncle Jaime is married to Brienne. We're in the same regiment."
God gods, Sandor lives just down the road from Joffrey's uncle. Am I never to get a moment's peace? Her eyes darting to the door, Sansa started to tremble violently, but Sandor took her hands in his. "Easy, lass. He won't be bothering you again, believe that. No one will hurt you again, Sansa, or I'll kill them."
Sandor's threat was no mere talk, of that she was certain; in fact, he sounded so definite, so cold and frightening that Sansa believed he would do just as he said. What sort of man is Sandor? She knew that part of being a soldier was killing the enemy when you were ordered to do so, but how did such values carry over into civilian life? Sandor's words both thrilled and frightened her, and at once her trembling worsened.
"I'll keep you safe, Sansa," Sandor rasped low. "Though I've done things I'm not proud of, I'm a soldier and I protect those I care for. Only a bloody coward strikes a woman or a child and I'll be damned before it happens again."
Shyly Sansa offered him a small smile, his words reassuring and comforting her. "You care for me? That is why you would do such?"
"Might be. Could be." Sandor gruffly confessed, then moved away from her. "I mean it, Sansa. That little shit comes near you again and it will be the last thing he does on this gods forsaken earth, believe that."
Why does he look so embarrassed to admit his feelings? Sansa wondered as she watched Sandor nervously move about the room, though she knew such was the way of men. "I do believe you, Sandor."
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he stood inside the small bay window and watched the rain, his mouth quirking into a small grin. "Rough weather out there."
"Yes, I'm glad we decided to stay in," she broke the silence while moving beside him, resting her hand on his bicep. "I'm ready to eat if you are."
"Aye, let me get it."
When he turned to leave the room, Sansa threw her arms around him, pulling him close. "I care for you, too." She breathed in his ear before kissing him soundly.
"Little bird." Sandor whispered against her mouth before covering her lips with his own. After they kissed a while, Sandor reluctantly stopped, burying his face in her neck and breathing heavily, the man seeming to summon his self-control before moving away from her. Flustered, Sansa too struggled to control her breathing, taking turns smoothing down her hair and dress as she waited for him to speak.
"That was dessert; let's have the main course." He grinned sheepishly at her. After doling out the contents of Brienne's basket onto two plates, they stepped out onto wraparound porch and settled on the swing to eat their meal.
Sandor draped a blanket over the two of them. "This will ward off the chill. You want something warmer to put on?"
He's offering me his clothing? A pleasant thrill went through Sansa. "Yes, please."
Sandor rose and brought back his Army issue jacket, very heavy and in blue and white camouflage, very different from the garment he wore earlier. "From Kosovo," Sandor explained. "My first deployment."
Poor man, he's seen a lot of combat, a lot of suffering. "What is your rank, Sandor?" Sansa asked, hoping to draw him out a bit.
"Master Sergeant," Sandor sniffed, his words tight and forced as he spoke. "I'm not an officer."
"You've never wanted to go to officer candidate school?
"I don't believe in their so-called honor."
What a strange position for a man who has served for so long to take. Sansa couldn't help herself. "If you don't mind me asking: why not? Is it not out of honor that you serve?"
"Duty and honor are two very different things, lass, and rank has nothing to do with it. I've seen plenty of so-called officers do many a dishonorable thing in this man's army." Sandor's tone indicated it was his final word on the subject, and so Sansa let it go.
They sat in silence for a while until she tried again. "These dumplings are delicious."
Sandor snorted. "They ought to be. I taught Brienne how to make them."
"You taught her to cook?"
"Aye I did. She couldn't boil water when she married Jaime. She served along with us from the beginning, and a harder assed soldier you'll be pressed to find, believe that. She's a police detective now."
"Oh." Sansa said absently, wondering why Sandor did not choose a similar woman to date instead of her.
"How about you?" Sandor asked, handing her another cathead biscuit. "You're learning to be an RN?"
"Yes, with a subspecialty in wound care. It isn't the highest paying area in medicine for a nurse-in fact it is one of the lowest. After my youngest brother was crippled in a fall, though, it just didn't matter. I wanted to work on a one on one basis with patients so that I can make a real difference, maybe even change their lives." She stared off into the distance. "I will start my internship around Christmas; the same time you will leave for deployment." Her voice quivered on the last word.
Sandor changed the subject then. He went on to tell her that his elder brother, who recently died overseas. When Sansa offered her condolences, he replied, "Save your sorries for someone who deserves them, lass. Gregor may have been a lieutenant but he was also a rapist, a thief and a killer so horrible that one of his own men murdered him," he explained. "A death more merciful that he deserved, too." Dumbstruck, Sansa gaped at him, not knowing what to say, while Sandor continued to stare out at the rain.
His brother is the reason he doesn't believe in the honor of officers, she concluded. "Then I am sorry you had such a brother," Sansa offered softly. He shrugged and placed another piece of chicken on her plate.
Sansa told Sandor about her father, who served in the Vietnam war and went on to strike oil in Alaska, and her brothers and sister. Lastly she told him of her mother and Robb, who died on their way to a cousin's wedding reception.
Sandor listened quietly, sniffing and patting her on the arm as she spoke. When Sansa finished, he then shared that his father happened to serve in Vietnam too, alongside General Lannister, who rewarded him well afterward with lands out in Colorado. All the time Sandor was speaking, Sansa could not help but wonder if he knew more about Joffrey than he first let on.
"Have you ever met Joffrey?" Sansa ventured quietly, unable to stifle her curiosity any longer.
"Aye I know him well. I worked for his mother. His grandfather figured our family owed him a debt of gratitude, what with getting our family's green cards and citizenships expedited, so he had me serve as her bodyguard for a bit."
"Bodyguard? Did you receive special training for that?"
"You best believe I did," Sandor hissed through gritted teeth. "Took my brother and I into his "private security" force from the time we grew big enough. I didn't have the propensity for cruelty that he and Gregor did, though, so General Lannister had me watch over his grandson and made Gregor his special pet."
"Joffrey never told me you were his bodyguard," Sansa shook her head in amazement. "Or that he ever had a bodyguard before Meryn Trant."
"I quit when he was fifteen. When I saw what a cruel little shit Joffrey was growing into as he neared manhood, I lit out of there, duty or no; but the general made sure I served him another way-in the Army."
"I see. I'm so sorry."
Sandor just shrugged but Sansa could not let it go. No wonder he took no pride in service! Anger flooded her mind at the thought. In exchange for legal citizenship, Sandor and his family were virtually slaves to the Lannisters! They should go to jail for it, but Sansa knew that even if they told the authorities, no one would believe a war hero like General Lannister would do such a thing.
Sandor grew somewhat taciturn after this revelation, as though he had not intended to share so much with her so early in their relationship. Sansa did not press him further and they finished the meal in comfortable silence, each lost in thought.
When they were through, Sandor took the dishes inside while Sansa stayed outside and watched the storm. Suddenly an idea struck her. I could try for a position in the Veteran's hospital-I'm sure there are many soldiers who need wound care. I have to get my state license first, but the VA could be a good fit for me. Yes, the more Sansa thought of it, the better she liked the idea. Sansa decided she would look into it but also made up her mind that she would keep her idea to herself for now.
Sandor poked his head out the door. "I laid out warmer clothes for you, if you want them." Without waiting for a reply, he opened the door for her and jerked his head toward his bedroom. "My sister's things. They've been in a Space Bag for quite a while now but they were laundered before they were stored." Sandor drew a deep breath. "Wear whatever you want."
Biting her lip to hold her questions at bay, Sansa went into the bedroom. Laid neatly on the bed was a pair of black Juicy sweatpants, fuzzy socks, a pink t shirt and black hoodie for her. They were a bit big on her but Sansa was very grateful for them, for the weather turned colder still. Hurriedly Sansa pulled on the clothes before taking in her reflection. I hope it won't unnerve him to see me wearing her clothing.
The sound of the television drew her to the den. Sandor had turned off the lights, put a fire in the fireplace and lit a few candles. He was curled up on the couch with a blanket, half dozing, until he caught sight of her. Raising his brow at her, Sandor whistled low and patted the space beside him.
"True Grit just started." He pointed to the screen.
"Oh good, this one's my favorite!" Sansa carefully sat down beside Sandor and pulled the blanket over her lap. Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her tightly against an equally muscular chest. Bashfully Sansa glanced up at him. "This is the perfect first date, Sandor."
"Aye, it is, and the perfect welcome home for one such as me as well." He murmured as he buried his face in her hair and then kissed her lightly on the neck. True to his word, Sandor did not pressure her to go further. The sound of the rain paired with the warm feeling of Sandor's embrace soon lulled Sansa into a peaceful sleep.
The sound of Sandor's desperate voice in her ear awakened her sometime later. "Sansa, wake up lass. It's after midnight." The only other noise in the house was the rain pattering on the tin she rubbed her eyes, trying to get her bearings. His arms were still tightly around her, and so she rested against his chest.
"Oh Sandor forgive men, I overstayed my welcome-"
"Stay with me." Sandor rasped low.
"Why do you want me to stay?" Sansa asked softly, trying to understand him. His voice sounded different, frightened even. What has happened?She leaned over and turned on the lamp. "I told you I am not that type of woman. I'm not here so you can-"
"I know you're not, Sansa." His hand slipped around her waist, gripping her closer to him. "I want you to stay. I need you to stay." Sandor trembled beneath her. "Just let me hold you."
"It's alright. You can hold me." She whispered back to him, pressing her fingers on his lips lightly. Her mind said no, it was not right for her to spend the night with him, but her heart screamed yes, stay with him and comfort him. There was no reason, no logic in her decision; only the desire to keep him safe, to provide solace and rest. "But I don't think it appropriate to sleep in your bed with you when we hardly-"
Sandor encircled his arms around her body and tightly gripped Sansa against him, surrounding her with his body. His hands clutched her harder again, and Sansa soon realized that he was crying, his tears wetting her hair and neck as he struggled to speak.
"Stay," Sandor finally managed, the sound from his throat forced, desperate. "Say you'll stay with me, Sansa. We'll sleep here. I just want to hold you for the rest of the night," Sandor told her truthfully; Sansa saw it in his eyes. "I want to sleep with you in my arms. Sleep without the nightmares. You-you keep them away." Sandor averted his eyes, and then began running his hands over his head. "Fuck, listen to me. You must think I'm a bloody-"
"Shh," she murmured into Sandor's ear, her hands gliding over his back and up to his neck with gentle, soothing caresses. "It's alright." Sansa said softly. "Yes, I'll stay. I'll stay right here with you."
She raised her hands to gently hold Sandor's face, cupping him on either side of his jaw with her hands, and then Sansa pressed her lips against his cheek to kiss him there. Next she pressed her lips to the side of his face near his ear and then along his jawline. She would give him this, this comfort and simple reassurance, the consolation he so desperately needed. Sansa trusted him and she knew the first night home was bound to be difficult, so why should she not stay?
Sandor turned his head, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss. Tenderly his hand came up to hold the back of her head as he parted his lips. Sansa slowly allowed her mouth to open to him, let him slip his tongue past her lips against her own tongue, and she moaned softly at the feel of him. Gasping, Sandor pulled away from her mouth, suddenly pressing his forehead to hers.
"You're safe with me, Sansa. I'll not pressure you." Sandor gathered her close to him once more and snuggled down in the crook of her neck.
"I know. I trust you. Just get some rest, Sandor." They spoke no more then, only held each other and listened to the rain while Sansa ran her hands over his shoulders soothingly. Soon, the two fell fast asleep once more.