After Joffrey died, everything remained business as usual at The Daily Grind. Since his death took place on the sidewalk, very little investigation went on inside the shop, and the coffee house was open for business the next day. No one spoke of it, not even when it was just the four of them; it was as though it never happened, as though Joffrey had never existed.
Once the initial shock wore off, a tremendous sense of disbelief came over Sansa. Dazed, she went home and spent hours staring at Sandor's rifle, still trying to comprehend that Joffrey was truly out of her life forever. For perhaps the first time since she was betrothed to him, Sansa felt safe, truly safe, and the young woman didn't know quite how to process the conflicting emotions within her, primarily focusing on the method in which she was liberated of him.
She was surprised to discover she wasn't horrified by Mrs. Olenna's actions, and that alone worried her. Was that what living with the Lannisters had done to her? But even as the thought came into her mind, Sansa knew that wasn't true: Arya wouldn't have cared, she knew that-in fact she would have killed him herself. But as a health care worker, she made a vow to herself to only help others. And even as she thought on that, Sansa also knew full well that if Sandor had been there, Joffrey would have been just as dead, and it would have been necessary for her to keep that quiet as well.
Besides, the truth of the matter was that everything within the law had been done and it still didn't stop Joffrey-in fact, nothing short of death would stop him, which seemed to be a Lannister trait. He was cruel and abusive to every person Sansa had ever seen him interact with but nevertheless his mother and grandfather would stop at nothing to find out what happened, of that Sansa was certain.
The Lannisters had taken her from her family, her childhood home, and all that she loved in the north when she was very young; she knew full well what they were capable of doing and yet she would not let fear of them serve in Joffrey's stead. However cruel they were, their actions had also turned her from porcelain to ivory to steel and forged her into a strong, powerful woman. She was a Stark, wolf blooded as the people of the north called them, and she would be brave.
In her heart she knew the Tyrell's way of handling the situation was the only way for her to be rid of him, that there truly was no other way of dealing with Joffrey, period. Her husband killed to protect and defend others-was what the Tyrells did so very different? Perhaps in the eyes of the law, but certainly not in her eyes. She wished Sandor was there to talk with her about it. Exhaustion, worry and loneliness shrouded Sansa, so after she ate, she escaped into sleep, dreaming of Sandor and his return.
The dream felt so real that Sansa was disappointed when she woke up and discovered he was not beside her. Later, the mailman brought a stack of letters to her, all from her beloved, and immediately the young bride snuggled up and read them with relish. Some of the notes were brief, some were long and singular with detailed descriptions; nearly all of them explicitly detailed exactly what Sandor planned on doing to her once he got home. A warmth spread throughout her entire body as she read them, making her long for Sandor's return all the more.
Afterward, she went into work at the hospital and offered her condolences to Jaime while she treated his wounds. She wasn't sorry Joffrey was gone, but Jaime and Brienne had been good to her and she didn't wish any more misery upon them than they had already endured. To her surprise, the Major seemed indifferent to his nephew's death, as was Tyrion Lannister, and they spoke no more of it after that day.
A week later, Officer Clifton was all too happy to inform the Tyrells that the medical examiner's report had come in and Joffrey's death was officially ruled an accidental overdose. Relieved, Sansa finally let go of her reservations as he spoke: Joffrey was gone, that was all that mattered, a punishment from the gods for his abuse at the hands of the Tyrells.
"That poor innocent boy," Mrs. Olenna sadly commented as she filled the pastry display. "Such a waste of a young life." Sansa, Loras and Margaery all nodded their agreement.
The Armani suit tapped his fingers on the counter loudly. "Red, bring me the usual, and make it quick."
Hurriedly Sansa prepared his usual order while straining her ears to listen.
"It was strange, though," Officer Clifton remarked even as Margaery suggestively brushed his hair out of his eyes. "In addition to heroin and marijuana, he had large amounts of oleander extract in his system." His eyes fell on Sansa, who was wiping the table nearby. "Ms. Clegane, do you know anything about that?"
Behind his back, Margaery tugged at her top so the neckline would expose more of her ample cleavage, motioning for Sansa to flash a bit as well, but she shook her head at her friend. Armani Suit huffed impatiently as Sansa set down his order.
"That's Mrs. Clegane to you, young man," Mrs. Olenna scolded, shaking her head at him while casting a suggestive look at her granddaughter. "Her husband is a highly decorated war veteran and I'll not let you disrespect his wife."
"No offense meant, ma'am," the officer removed his hat.
Ignoring him, Sansa quickly rang up Armani Suit's purchase.
"Officer Clifton is from Florida, Gran." Margaery laughed.
"I don't care if he's from the moon, he will mind his manners in my shop or else leave." She snapped her dishtowel sharply before folding it. "In thispart of the country we still call a married woman by her husband's name. You would do well to remember it."
"Yes, ma'am," the young man nodded eagerly. "I beg your pardon. I meant no offense."
"It is Sansa's pardon you should ask, if you know what's best for you. Her husband is a big fellow and a Master Sergeant besides. He's not like to be as polite about you taking liberties with his wife as I am."
Armani Suit turned and gaped at Sansa. "You married that soldier?"
"Yes, I did." Sansa primly smiled and smoothed down her apron.
"You better mind yourself, officer, he's a rough one." Armani Suit said as he swung open the door.
"Yes, you better mind your manners or I'll take a switch to you!" Margaery teased as she heatedly sized him up and down. "You look like a naughty one. I can promise you my switchings are nothing like the ones you received as a boy." When the officer blushed, Margaery winked at him and added: "Who knows, you may even enjoy it."
She had the police officer so tongue-tied that despite the tense situation, it was all Sansa could do to swallow her laughter.
Distractedly the officer cleared his throat before straightening up, the young man seeming to suddenly remember himself. "Would you happen to know anything about oleander extract, Mrs. Clegane?"
"I know nothing about oleander extract," Sansa shrugged after a bit, the young woman carefully setting her expression into one of mock confusion. "Or any other extracts, for that matter. I don't cook very much since my husband went on active duty. Is it used in baking?" Behind her Sansa heard Margaery choke down a giggle.
"Not hardly, darling." Mrs. Olenna tisked lightly as she rolled her eyes and shook her head apologetically at the officer. "Oleander is very poisonous and you would be hard pressed to find its extract. You would never want to cook with it." She shook her head once more. "Really Sansa, you must mind your wifely duties."
"Oh, I had no idea it was dangerous! How foolish of me." Carefully Sansa fixed her countenance into one of mild interest while she shook her head. "Forgive me, Mrs. Olenna, it's just that it's so plentiful around here. How can something so pretty be so deadly?" Sansa deftly handed Officer Clifton a bear claw pastry as she spoke with a winning smile. "It's on the house."
Grinning, the officer shrugged and took a big bite before offering a muffled: "Thank you".
"Oleander is very lovely. It grows everywhere around here, too. It is a wonder, isn't it, child, that something so innocent and beautiful can also be so very deadly?" Mrs. Olenna demurred. "Loras, dear, where would someone even find oleander extract? Do the Indians have it?"
"No, Gran. Some of the local drug dealers make it. They cut their heroin with it so it will go further, you know." Loras explained. "Renly used to see such poisonings a lot among the college students when he was on the force."
"Very true." Officer Clifton nodded. "We see it still. So, you have a friend that was a police officer?"
"My husband was on the police force, yes. He was killed in Kandahar two years ago." Loras ignored Officer Clifton's shocked expression as he turned to go into the storage room.
"So, are you going to ask me out or not, Hugh?" Margaery glanced up through her lashes as she twirled a lock of the young officer's hair in between her fingers. "I've been waiting for ages."
With the officer preoccupied, Sansa took the opportunity to take her leave.
"Sansa, darling, your next shift is later today, remember?"
It was unlike Mrs. Olenna to check up on her work schedule; that was Margaery's job, but Sansa didn't mind it. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be back at 3 o'clock."
"Good. Be a doll and wear your new dress, will you? Margaery described it to me and I'm just dying to see it."
The day before, Margaery had insisted Sansa buy a new outfit complete with lingerie for Sandor's return. After an epic day of shopping, they found a black chiffon dress and a set of garnet red lingerie that made Sansa blush just thinking about it. The outfit wasn't really casual enough to wear to work but Sansa knew the old lady loved shopping and so she indulged her. "Yes, ma'am, certainly." Sansa smiled politely at her as she left.
After two hours of studying for her nursing license, Sansa decided she would take a nap and then use her free time to take the opportunity to do a practice run of getting ready for Sandor. With great care she showered, groomed and styled her hair just as Loras had for her wedding day. Afterward she carefully applied cat's eye eyeliner and then settled on a deep, almost burgundy shade of lipstick to match her lingerie.
When Sansa stepped away from the mirror, she was surprised by the elegant, sexy, refined woman staring back at her. "Sandor won't even recognize me." She said aloud to herself and then broke into a fit of giggles. Glancing at the clock, she saw she only had fifteen minutes before her shift started and so Sansa hastily put on her dress, garters and black seamed hosiery, then selected a very high pair of platform pumps before heading out the door.
Feeling the gaze of the customers on her, Sansa self-consciously tugged at the neckline of her dress as she walked into the coffee house. Armani Suit was there again, gaping at her as she passed.
"Wow, what a knockout!" Loras wolf whistled her as she approached the counter, causing the customers to turn and stare at her.
A deep blush swept over her cheeks. "Really?" Sansa whispered as she turned for him to tie on her apron. "This is what I'm planning on wearing when Sandor returns home. Do you think he will like it?"
Smirking, Loras arched his brow and pointed toward the back. "Why don't you ask him for yourself?"
Following his gesture, Sansa's eyes fell on Sandor's imposing form as he rose from his seat. Overwhelmed, she stared at her husband in disbelief as months of prayers, sadness, loneliness abruptly came to an end in an instant.
"Little bird," she heard his deep voice rasp as he removed his beret. "I missed you, wife." Sandor seemed uncomfortable, as though he didn't know whether or not she would be angry that he didn't come to her sooner, and the awkward way Sandor held out a bouquet of peonies and roses went straight to Sansa's heart.
Squealing, Sansa raced toward him, laughing and crying at the same time as emotion overwhelmed her. The corner of his mouth twitched sharply before a huge grin spread across his face as Sansa excitedly threw herself into his arms. "Sandor, oh my love, thank the gods you're home!"
Muscular arms surrounded her, lifting her against him as Sandor's fingers found their way into her hair. She felt him inhale a deep sigh as he buried his face in her hair. "Little bird, my beautiful wife, I 'm sorry I've been away so long." Gently Sandor then held her face, his deep gray eyes boring into her own heatedly while he traced his thumb over her lips lightly as though he was trying to determine if she was, in fact, really there with him.
"My beloved husband, you've returned to me safe and sound at last, that is all that matters to me." Laughing softly, Sansa cupped his cheek in return to reassure him, the small gesture seeming to break something loose in the man, for Sandor then pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her soundly, oblivious to the spectators surrounding them.
Letting out a small cry of surprise, Sansa clutched his shoulders and pulled him closer still, opening her mouth to him, reveling in his touch, his taste and the feel of his hardened muscles surrounding her. She felt his tongue swirl around hers and Sansa matched his movements. Time seemed to stand still for the couple before Sandor groaned into the kiss and then abruptly lifted her into his arms.
"Let's get out of here." He growled low, placing one arm under her thighs while the other cradled her small waist. "I owe you a wedding night, remember?" Sandor kissed her once more before carrying her out of the shop. On the street people whistled, laughed and clapped for them. Let them stare. Let them see that he is mine and that I am his.
"I remember." Giggling, she kissed along Sandor's neck and cheek and every available piece of flesh as he settled her into the truck.
Once inside, Sandor held her face determinedly, the intensity shimmering in his eyes nearly stealing her breath away as Sansa tearfully returned his gaze. "I'll never leave you again, Sansa, I swear it on our marriage and on every one of the bloody gods." He kissed her softly then, staring deeply into her eyes. "Never again will anything part us, you have my word. From now on, it's just me and you. Do you believe me?"
"I do, Sandor." Sansa whispered against his lips.