A/N: Thanks to everyone for the kind reviews! Here are a few notes about this chapter:
*Allspice, basil, borage flowers, comfrey root, cherry bark and red clover are herbs used in Native American medicine to ensure safe travel, protection from illness and injury, and from harm from strangers. They are also used to bless marriages and ensure financial security, keep the couple as well as the children safe from harm, stimulate and maintain a a satisfying sexual relationship between the couple, promote peace and calm in the home and between the couple. Red flannel is the traditional material for such pouches, which are worn around the neck in times of distress or danger.
The Ojibwa people are a matriarchal society and so the woman is the one who traditionally speaks for the family, and Jennifer's doing so here reflects her respect for Sansa's culture.
Handfasting is a Scottish wedding custom.
The ASOIAF theory about Elder brother's true identity found here on : . /topic/108178-who-is-the-elder-brother/
Make of it what you will ;)
As Elder brother laid down the conditions for performing the marriage, Sansa barely heard the holy man's words as she stared at Sandor, smiling all the while. She smiled the entire time he explained the ceremony, smiled even as he asked if there were problems between them, and only answered after repeated prompting.
"Pardon me, perhaps I didn't speak loudly enough: do either of you have any serious problems or doubts about the relationship?" Elder brother raised his brow.
Embarrassed though she was, Sansa was pleased to see that Sandor appeared to be similarly distracted. Deep gray eyes full of longing searched her face while large hands caressed her cheek in an almost worshipful fashion, the man veritably drinking in the sight of her, as though he was trying to commit every detail of her features to memory for the time they would part. She then nudged Sandor, willing him to go first.
We cannot just spend the entire ceremony standing here staring at each other and ignore the holy man at our wedding, she cursed herself when he remained silent. You must say something-anything.
"Yes and no, Elder brother. It seems the origin of our problems do not rest between us," Sansa finally answered quietly, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from her fiancé. "The problems we have faced-well, they reveal themselves when our respective pasts intrude on us."
"Sandor, what say you on the matter?" Elder brother glanced at Sandor, waiting for his reply.
Clearing his throat, Sandor then attempted to speak, his voice curt and strained with nerves. "True enough, that." He finally managed.
"And what might those troubles entail specifically?" Elder brother leaned in close. "Please, free yourself, Ms. Stark. I am not here to judge, only to offer help."
Normally Sansa would have bristled at such a question, but the elder man looked between them with such genuine concern and affection that she blurted out: "I have problems with trusting men in particular due to physical and verbal abuse I experienced at the hands of another man."
Sandor's face turned to stone, but the man did not interrupt her. Gently he squeezed her hand. "It's okay, Sansa."
"I see," Elder brother's grave eyes fell on Sandor's clenched fists resting his knees. "Would you like to share a bit about the situation, my dear? It is understandable if you do not wish it on your wedding day. We can talk about it another time."
Her palms damp, suddenly Sansa felt as though the air had been driven from her lungs. She did not want to think of those things, especially on her wedding day, but she knew she must. Not knowing what else to do, quietly she prayed to her father and immediately Ned's deep reassuring voice resounded in her mind. You need a fresh start with Sandor and talking about it will help you heal.
Shakily Sansa drew a deep breath. "No, please Elder brother, I wish to tell you, to have a fresh start as my father would say. Joffrey Baratheon is his name; he is the nephew of Jaime Lannister. He was my fiancé, but not of my own free will."
Elder brother's heavy brow knitted into a frown as she spoke, while Sandor's hand tightened on her own. "Our betrothal was arranged by our parents as a political alliance. After my parents died, they forcibly kept me in the Red Mansion until I escaped and returned to my family home in Alaska."
Squinting, Elder brother studied her before turning to Sandor. "That must have been a very frightening experience." After a moment, he asked gently: "Are you a person of faith, Sansa?"
"Yes," she eagerly nodded. "I follow Catholicism somewhat loosely-actually, very little. But I am devoted the Ojibwa spiritual beliefs of my father. Is that acceptable?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Sandor interrupted, the sound of his voice a low snarl, his tone immediately causing Sansa to jerk her head toward him in shocked silence. "This is a free country or so I've been led to believe, so why would you ask her such a thing?"
"A good question, Sandor, and one that has a simple answer. If Sansa has a spiritual side in her life, then I want to honor that in my advice to her and in your marriage ceremony, just as I honor your atheism by tailoring my guidance to your needs." Elder brother rose.
Snorting, Sandor grudgingly nodded but still remained tense. "I'm no atheist, just an agnostic. When I see it, then I'll believe it."
"We needs not revisit this just now, Sandor, as we discussed it earlier. Sansa, I would recommend that you have a series of private sessions with me while Sandor is deployed to help you work through your trauma. It is imperative for the health and future of your relationships, as well as for your own good mental health."
"I would like that very much," Sansa beamed at Sandor. He looked as though he were about to protest but upon looking into Sansa's eyes, he changed his mind.
Elder brother watched the silent exchange between them before speaking. "As his wife, Sandor's medical benefits will extend to you, so you need not worry about cost. Now then, is there anything you would like to say to one another before we proceed with the wedding?"
Turning to Sandor, Sansa suddenly felt the absence of her family, the familiar pain of grief once more cutting into her heart acutely. Father, how I wish you and the family were with me now. Please bless our marriage. Drawing a deep breath, she gazed long and deep into his eyes as she cupped his cheek.
"Sandor, I know we have a difficult road ahead of us, and that it is very soon to enter into a serious commitment like marriage. But despite this, I am committed to you in my heart and I am devoted to working together making our relationship as good as it possibly can be and to letting go of the past." Tears filled her eyes. "I want us to heal together and do better for ourselves and each other than either of us have known before. And I know love will see us through."
Elder brother smiled at her. "Recognizing the need for change and being willing to work for it is the first and most important step toward change, my lady." He then turned to Sandor.
His clenched jaw was so tight that the vein at Sandor's temple prominently stood out. After coughing a bit, he rasped low, "It is soon, I admit, and I'm sure many will tell you it's too soon to wed. Well, bugger that. They don't know us, how we are together, what we've been through. I don't give a fu-" Gritting his teeth, Sandor cleared his throat once more. "I don't care what anyone says, little bird. You're a strong woman, and you somehow managed to stay sweet and pure and honest despite the sh-uh, trials you've been through. I don't deserve you, lass, but I love you true. The only thing that matters is that you love me and that I love you."
Sansa started to speak, but upon noticing her parted lips, Sandor gently rested his finger on her mouth. "Let me get this out, Sansa, before I choke on my fucking tongue."
Nodding, she smiled and squeezed his hands.
"I'll keep you safe, and I'm committed to getting whatever help I need to make this work." Tenderly he stroked the back of his finger against her cheek. "I feel complete with you by my side. We belong together."
Smiling, Elder brother looked between them. "Do you have sponsors?"
"Oh, yes, we each have two." Sansa beamed at Sandor. "In the custom of my father's people, a couple must have at least four respected members of the community as sponsors."
"What in buggering-" Sandor abruptly corrected his rough language. "What for?"
"To ensure the couple is taking their vows seriously. There is no allowance for divorce in the Ojibwa custom, Sandor, and in this way the tribe provides marriage counselling and support for the duration of the marriage."
"It is a beautiful custom, one I wish more religious institutions would adopt," Elder brother smiled. "I can both serve and officiate, if that pleases you."
"Aye, good on you, then," Sandor agreed and shook his hand. Sansa happily assented.
"And Brienne Tarth Lannister; she's my next one."
"And who would you have as sponsors, Ms. Stark?" Elder brother inquired.
"Um, forgive me but I'm afraid one of my friends might not be accepted." Sansa played with the rose petals on her bouquet, her face coloring as she spoke.
"How so?" Elder brother studied her curiously. "Please, do elaborate."
Clergymen made Sansa nervous, which is probably why she didn't take to her mother's religion but Elder brother was so amiable and warm that she decided she would go ahead and speak her mind.
"Well, one of my friends is married: her name is Jennifer Running Bear but she is not a Christian." Sansa's hands began shaking. "My friend Loras was married but recently lost his spouse in the war."
"I'm not a Christian either, my dear," Elder brother patted her hand. "that is to say, I believe in Christ but I do not belong to his religions. I am Buddhist."
"Oh, how foolish of me to forget-I've never known anyone of that faith." Sansa blushed deeply.
Elder brother chuckled but soon turned serious. "I am truly sorry to hear that your friend lost his mate. But losing his spouse would not prevent him from participating in your wedding."
"Well, the fact is, Loras is gay," Sansa whispered, cringing as she gauged his reaction. "I understand that his marriage was not well received among the military."
Sneering, Sandor chuckled under his breath. "Go get 'em, little bird."
Hurriedly Sansa explained: "Please, Elder brother, I do not wish to be confrontational. I just feel it is better to be upfront. If you cannot marry us, if it violates your beliefs, I'll understand. Such was commonplace among the clergy of my mother's religion."
"Buggering hells, I won't understand." Sandor growled out beside her. "Why should anyone care who Loras-" he looked over at Elder brother before finishing, "um, marries?"
Folding his hands, Elder brother glanced between the couple and then nodded understandingly. "Sandor speaks truly: both as an Army chaplain and as a clergyman, I can say with certainty that our record in this area has been less than exemplary. Unfortunately, Sansa, you have every reason to be wary. But such is not the case anymore: this is your ceremony, not that of the military."
"Aye, if you say so," Sandor smirked and turned away, his glittering eyes and bitter attitude alarming Sansa at once. Did Sandor have to meet some special requirement in order to be allowed to marry? She desperately wanted to ask him about it but hesitated to interrupt the proceedings.
"Tell me truly, is there any other objection, Sansa?" Elder brother probed gently before Sansa could bring up her question.
"I'm not sure I understand," Sansa squeezed Sandor's hand nervously. "Loras' orientation is not my issue or Sandor's, for that matter. In fact, I believe it is no one's business but his."
"There's my wolf," Sandor leaned over and kissed her hand.
"Quite right, Ms. Stark," Elder brother genially grinned at the pair. "I am glad to hear you say such. What I meant to ask is this: is the young man's orientation at odds with your personal spiritual beliefs?"
"No," Sansa said quietly. "He is two-spirited by our culture and there is no stigma attached to it. In fact, he would be looked upon as lucky among the Ojibwa."
"I have no issue with it, either," Sandor gruffly responded while crossing his legs. "Religion or no, the man can do whatever he wants. That's why we serve, isn't it? So people are free to live their lives any way they choose?" Sandor laughed mirthlessly. "Loras is good to my bride and me, that's all that matters."
"Then it is settled: Loras will be your second, Sansa. For our needs, all that is required is that the sponsors have been married." Elder brother announced with a smile, the man visibly relaxing as he did so. "Please, sign your marriage certificate and then invite in your guests so we can begin."
As each guest entered the chapel, they first approached the couple and offered their well wishes. Sansa paid especially close attention to each of their offerings, the young woman cherishing each of them in her heart. When they were finished, Elder brother began the ceremony.
"Who pledges these two people in marriage?" The holy man asked as he looked toward Jennifer and Loras, who were seated in the first pew.
"My husband and I do," Jennifer stated clearly as she stood. "By the Great Spirit, we pledge our spiritual and marital guidance for the life of Sandor Clegane and Sansa Stark's union." Her husband handed Sandor and Sansa each their own red flannel pouch filled with *allspice, basil, borage flowers, comfrey root, cherry bark and red clover. Beaming, Sansa kissed each of the young man's cheeks in thanks, while Sandor, while clearly confused, nonetheless grunted out his appreciation.
"Together with my family, I pledge Sansa and Sandor in marriage," Loras nervously promised. "I-I was not married very long, but I will help them in any way I can, both individually and as a couple for the rest of their lives, as will the rest of my family, so help me God."
"Thank you for all you did for Sansa," Sandor shook his hand, after which Sansa kissed him on the cheek and handed him a rose from her bouquet.
"For Renly." She whispered.
Swallowing hard, Loras squeezed Sansa tightly in response before returning to his seat.
Teary-eyed, Brienne then stood and took Sandor and Sansa's hands in her own. "I, too, pledge Sandor and Sansa in marriage. Come what may, I will be there to help them for the rest of their lives." She then made the sign of the cross over her heart. Afterward, Sandor quickly handed Brienne a single rose, to which she sadly smiled and then kissed his cheek before taking her position.
"Thank you." Elder brother then turned to Sandor and Sansa. "I, too, pledge Sandor and Sansa in holy matrimony, and will support, counsel, and nurture them individually and as a couple for the rest of their days. Sandor, Sansa: we will now proceed with the handfasting."
His mouth twitched into a grin as Sandor raised their joined hands. With solemn deliberation, Elder brother bound them together with a tartan bearing the pattern Sansa recognized as belonging to House Clegane, thus uniting them as one in the sight of gods and men.
Elder brother smiled broadly. "Now, face one another and say the words: I am yours as you are mine from this day until the end of my days."
Nervously the couple simultaneously repeated their vows to one another, after which Sandor kissed her very tenderly on each cheek. Never had Sansa been so happy, and the young woman could not hold back the happy tears that glistened in her eyes.
"I now pronounce Sandor and Sansa as husband and wife, joined in holy matrimony forever in this life and the next. What the gods and men have yoked together, let no one tear asunder." Elder brother pronounced, a large smile brightening his face as he did so.
Everyone cheered around them as Sandor swept Sansa up in his arms, took her face in his hands and ardently kissed her on the mouth until Elder brother cleared his throat.
The sound of the chapel doors swinging open turned all eyes on Tywin Lannister himself, the general flanked by four members of the military police as he entered the chapel. At once, Sandor, Elder brother and Brienne stood at attention and saluted.
Confused, Sansa watched Sandor's face drain of all color, save for his scarring. "Clegane," the older man's haughty eyes fell on Sansa, his mouth curling into a smirk as recognition further darkened his expression. "I see that, despite the odds, you have found a most lovely woman to become your bride."
"Yes, sir," Sandor replied by rote.
Good gods, this man is Joffrey's grandfather. She had never met him while they were engaged, but Sansa had seen the pictures of the stoic general that decorated nearly every corner of the Red Mansion. Unable to bear the palpable tension, she decided to take the initiative, and so nervously Sansa held out her hand. "I am Sansa Clegane, sir. I am most glad to meet you."
"Are you now?" Tywin mockingly raised his brow as he accepted her hand. "That comes as a bit of a surprise. Do you think I do not recognize you?"
I am a Stark; I can be brave. "I beg your pardon, sir?"
"You were engaged to my grandson, were you not?" His eyes bore into her own.
Reddening angrily, Sansa set her jaw and met his gaze. "I was indeed, and kept at the Red Mansion after the murder of my parents and eldest brother. We have long since broken off our engagement, as I am certain you are already aware."
Smirking, the older man nodded knowingly. "Forgive me, Mrs. Clegane," he addressed Sansa slowly, every syllable dripping with sarcasm as he spoke, "but your wedding celebration will have to wait until my son is returned to me."
No, they cannot take him now! Not when we were just married-it is unthinkable! Desperately she looked toward Sandor, who, along with Brienne and Elder brother, had his eyes fixed on some unknowable point on the farthest wall of the chapel. Pale, every muscle in Sandor's body was strung taut with anger while a fine trickle of blood crept out of the corner of his mouth. Fearfully Sansa noticed her husband's eyes now gleamed in a most frightening manner. It was then that the truth of their situation dawned on Sansa: Sandor was going to ask me to marry him even before he knew Jaime was missing and he needed the general's permission to marry. He was most likely refused until he agreed to return Jaime so that we could wed.
A deep grievous ache swept over her heart, but Sansa remained silent as she watched General Lannister gesture to the MPs to stay back. "Master Sergeant Clegane, you are hereby ordered to report for active duty at once."
Rage twisted Sandor's features as the general spoke. Unblinking, Sansa began to tremble, though shock had numbed her mind into a blank state. Behind her, she heard Margaery hiss out, "Oh, hell no! Fuck this shit," which was quickly followed by her grandmother's admonishment.
Worriedly Loras stepped forward and placed his arm around Sansa's waist. "It's going to be alright, Sansa, I promise. We'll get you through it."
Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know, the words to her favorite song came to Sansa's mind. If Sandor realizes how angry you are, he will kill every last man here. Father, please do not let Sandor lose his temper now. They will punish him even more if he doesn't obey, and if he sees how upset I am, there is no telling what he will do. Please, help him calm down, Sansa prayed silently.
Looking around, Sansa noticed she was not the only one who was worried about her husband's reaction. Anxiously the MPs stood wooden like while watching Sandor's every move, as did Brienne and Elder brother.
For his part, Sandor remained motionless, though blood now seeped from the corner of Sandor's mouth as he finally rasped low: "Yes, ser."
"Sargent First Class Lannister, step forward." Tywin commanded.
"Yes, sir." Brienne moved beside Sandor and then stood at attention.
"You will ready your things and join him forthwith."
Biting her lip, Sansa noticed Brienne's huge blue eyes filled with tears. It seemed strange that, as her father in law, General Lannister didn't even offer her the slightest condolence or even acknowledge Brienne as a member of his family but instead merely addressed her as would any other soldier. Suddenly the true origin of Joffrey's cruel behavior became much clearer, though Sansa was far too upset to think on it just then.
"Yes, sir." She finally managed.
"Major William Darry*, you will take care of both Clegane and Lannister's personnel files, is that understood?" Tywin next turned to Elder brother. "And you will expedite his marriage license and certificate as well as his benefits to his wife."
"Yes, sir." Elder brother cast a short glance at Sansa, giving her a slight reassuring nod.
Turning toward Sansa once more, the general glowered at her. "You've taken quite a fall socially, haven't you, Sansa?"
"I do not comprehend your meaning, sir," Sansa feigned ignorance as she dipped her head, all the while the simmering bile in her stomach threatened to make her ill.
"Then let me speak plainly: going from a blue blooded Lannister to a mongrel like Clegane here is quite a comedown for Eddard Stark's eldest daughter." The man laughed emptily. Before Sansa could reply, he then spat out: "You have ten minutes to say goodbye to your new husband." Waving his hand, Tywin then called out as he exited the chapel: "You men and Sargent Lannister, follow me."
After the general left, Elder brother hurriedly cleared the chapel before turning to Sandor and Sansa. "My private quarters are just down the hall. Sandor, Sansa, go say your goodbyes there, and I will come for you when the MPs return."
Sansa started to thank him but the holy man held up his hand. "Don't waste your words on me, child; go now with your husband."