Hiding in the shadows of the hallway, Sandor warily watches Lord Baelish's guards walk past the alcove, completely unaware the dangerous man is merely a few feet away from them. Scanning the area after they disappear from sight, Sandor quickly hurries toward his room.
"Congratulations Sandor…did you have a pleasant wedded night?" Elder Brother asks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Aye, it was indeed," Sandor mutters low. "That's all I'll say on the matter, so you best just stop right there." Laughing, Elder Brother motions for him to sit beside him. "You should know me better than to think I would ask such personal questions. It does my heart good to see the change the love of that lass has brought in you. With such degradation surrounding us I had all but given up on seeing a love like yours again, once my lady passed on." Smiling, Sandor nods in assent. "It is hard to explain the effect of our connection. It so powerful I can hardly control my emotions, damn me."
"The gods do not mean for you to hide your emotions from your love, Sandor, remember that. It is the deceit of man that teaches us to behave in that manner." Shrugging, Sandor asks, "How much closer can two people get? When will this bond finish deepening? As much as I love her it is very difficult to deal with."
Elder Brother pats his shoulder. "When your love has realized the reason the gods saw fit to originate the bond between you in the first place Sandor. Once the will of the gods is accomplished the bond will keep the two of you permanently joined the rest of your lives but it may not be quite as intense and consuming as you are experiencing now. Perhaps the bond is to protect Lady Sansa, not just the general way common between spouses, but specifically from one individual or group. Lord Baelish may well be part of it which is why you both are so overcome by the effects of your connection here in the Eyrie."
"Yes, that seems about right. Whenever he is near her or she is afraid of him, I can barely contain this fury that rushes through me; it is all I can do not to kill him with my bare hands, the buggering fool," Sandor growls, clenching his fists at the mere mention of Lord Baelish.
"It would serve you both to meditate on what is to be done Sandor-either in the godswood or wherever you find peace here, although I am not sure you will have clarity with your beloved bride close to you." Elder Brother grins and Sandor barks out a harsh laugh. "Aye, I understand you old man." Chuckling, Elder Brother moves toward the door. "Try to get some rest Sandor and see if you do not find answers to your dilemma. I will return after a while so that we may go down to break our fast together."
Clearing his throat, Sandor stands and shakes his hand, surprising the holy man. "Thank you Elder Brother…for everything." Slapping him on the back, Elder Brother shakes his head. "Thank the gods Sandor. All that you have now and all you have achieved with your beloved Sansa-this was within you all along. You were meant for this Sandor, you must believe that and that is why the gods saw fit to spare your life."
Lying back on the crisp sheets, Sandor closes his eyes and thinks of his beautiful little bird as she was when he left her, snuggled down on his pillow, her red hair spread about her. He can still smell her lavender scent on his tunic and his heart overflows with love for her, giving him a deep sense of satisfaction and fulfillment such as he has never experienced before in his life. As he daydreams of her he falls into a deep sleep, and when he awakens Sandor is astounded to find he now knows exactly what must be done to save his beloved wife.
Bright sunlight sparkles through the beveled windowpanes, rousing Sansa from sleep in the late morning. Her maid softly taps on the door as she enters her bedchamber. "My lady, are you up? I have your breakfast here from Lord Baelish." Sighing, Sansa rolls over. "Yes thank you. Please set it on the table and have hot water ready for my bath." Curtseying, the maid smiles, "As you wish my lady."
Sansa slowly slides out from under the covers, and finds she is a bit sore after her wedded night, the dull ache from her thighs bring a sly smile to her face. As the maid starts to leave, she glances over at her mistress' bed linen. "My lady-no wonder you seem so stiff this morning, it seems your moonblood came last night. Let me hasten with the bath. I'll bring fresh linens at once."
Smiling, Sansa nods as she wraps herself in a sheet and then a luxurious fur Sandor had given her at the cabin. "That is very kind. I would also require hot water for tea. Silent Brother gave me some herbs for my upset stomach." She does not need to know it is for moon tea, she giggles to herself when the maid's back is turned.
"Did Lord Baelish give his approval for you to use this medicine my lady?" she asks guardedly. "No, nor do I require his permission. I am a woman grown and your Lord's daughter. I do not answer the servant's impertinent questions and I shall require no further assistance from you." Sansa answers icily, affecting a tone she often heard Cersei use when she expected unquestioning obedience. "Of course not; my apologies my lady…I will send in another," the maid stammers and scurries off while Sansa hurries to bar the lock.
I would not be surprised if Petyr has them spying on my every move, she thinks bitterly as she stares into the mirror. Though she does not look so very different, Sansa feels like an entirely new woman now that she is wed to Sandor. Pondering the sudden change mystifies her especially when she considers the bond has markedly increased between them. Sansa must admit she feels it much more strongly and of one thing she is certain: where she once was afraid, now she feels resilient and strong. It must be the bond just as Sandor said, she thinks while checking over her skin for any indications that would reveal their lovemaking. My feelings and his have begun to mirror each other-but what purpose does that serve?
Sandor had been careful and there are no love marks, and she is unexpectedly disappointed there is no physical reminder of their beautiful night together. Peace now envelopes her hear and she wonders if he feels different too. Her thoughts of him send a pleasant rush of warmth throughout her body as she huddles down in the fur.
A soft knock at the door snaps her out of her thoughts. Pulling on her robe and wrapping the sash tightly, she opens the door expecting another maid; instead in strides Lord Baelish, his eyes sweeping over her heatedly as snakes his arm around her waist. "I am vexed you did not join us for breakfast Sweetling; Elder Brother especially inquired after you. It was most impolite to stay up here at your leisure considering we have important guests with us."
Wriggling away from his grip, Sansa tightens her sash and forces a taut smile. "I did not sleep well last night and am very tired this morning." Stepping closer, Petyr tips her chin up to him and inspects her face closely. "You are flushed my dear. You have dark circles under your eyes also. Would you like me to call the Maester?"
Turning her back to him, she busies herself concealing her sheets. "No, it is only that my red flower is upon me. I would like to have Elder Brother and Silent Brother sent to me after I bathe and dress. They are learned healers Father, most learned indeed-the tea Silent Brother gave me is very helpful. You might consider asking them to look at Sweetrobin while they are with us."
Feeling his eyes upon her, she senses Petyr is studying her closely for deception and it reminds her of the way Cersei's tabby cat watched the caged birds in court. Now I know how those poor birds felt, she thinks, affecting her best blank expression and smiling sweetly at him. Smirking, Baelish pinches her chin painfully, "I received a most interesting piece of news this morning Sweetling from the Vale septon. It seems your marriage to Tyrion has been dissolved."
Unshakable, Sansa moves away from him abruptly and begins brushing out her hair waist length hair, pretending to ignore his penetrating gaze. "Oh, yes? I thought it would take it bit more time to settle such matters with the brothers in the Vale. I am happy to be wrong."
Squinting at her, Petyr hisses, "You don't seem very surprised I must say, Sansa. Is there something you would like to share with me?" Baelish's voice is thick with rage and his presence gives a dangerous aura Sansa can feel within her heart. Grabbing her by the arm, he jerks her toward him, bringing her mere inches from his face. "Answer me, girl-what have you done? Don't toy with me either, it won't work. I have forced the truth out of girls much more clever than yourself."
"Lord Baelish, I am surprised you are reacting in this manner. I was certain you would ask Elder Brother yourself for the annulment after dinner-is that not why we were treated to such an exquisite meal last night? Your so-called ladies hardly warrant such decadent fare as inducement to do your bidding," Sansa replies, sarcasm seeping into her tone.
"Gods be damned this is no game, child! The future of the north depends upon you and me playing our roles to the letter. As Catelyn's daughter you cannot be so stupid as to think otherwise, unless you take after Ned. Dear old dead Ned, well you see where his foolishness landed him. Distrusting me was the wisest thing he ever did. Now tell me the meaning of this," he demands, throwing down the message roll.
Hearing him speak her father's name brings the wolf in Sansa to life. " How dare you talk to me about my own flesh and blood! You are not fit to even speak his name aloud. I have always suspected you were responsible for his arrest. The north-what do you care for the north if you would help our enemies capture the Lord Protector? You care only for my mother-"
Squeezing her face in his hand, Petyr grits his teeth and hisses low,"Careful Sweetling, remember where you are and with whom you reside. One unfortunate indiscretion could very well land you in one of my less reputable establishments in King's Landing-or Flea Bottom, for that matter." Gasping, Sansa tries to pull away; Petyr only tightens his grip on her jaw. "Your natural red hair," he stops and casts his gaze to her waist, "would fetch quite the exorbitant fee indeed, even once you were spoiled," he seethes, his tone menacing in her ear.
His hot breath sends shudders of fear through her yet her anger proves stronger still. "If you would dare threaten me in such a way I fail to see why I should tell you." Tightening his hold on her arm, his fingers dig into her flesh until Sansa yelps in pain and shakily tries freeing herself from his grip. "I discussed this with Elder Brother yesterday and sent off the raven myself. As a true born daughter of House Stark I handled my own affairs and I do not need your permission to do so. The matter is settled, just as you wished. You have no cause to behave like this toward me."
Her voice is strong even in her own ears but the murderous glint in his eyes brings a sharp stab of panic searing through Sansa's heart. Suddenly her mind is transported back in the throne room of the Eyrie the day Petyr kissed her. Watching the scene unfold, she sees her Aunt Lysa's face twist in horror as Petyr wrenches her away and throws her to her death. Recognizing he is wearing the same look now, Sansa knows she must calm down and contain her wrath if she is to survive though her fury makes proceeding with discretion difficult at best. "What is the matter with you? My mother would not approve of you handling me like this-turn loose!"
They are interrupted by a furtive knock on the door. Abruptly Petyr jerks the door open to find Elder Brother and Sandor standing in the hallway, his hand still tightly digging into her skin. "We are having a disagreement if you don't mind. It seems you men have a talent for intruding in our private matters," Petyr grumbles irritably. Sandor insolently moves forward into the room, placing himself between his wife and Baelish. Deep gray eyes meet hers and at once the agitated girl senses his reassurance-and his wrath.
"Yes I can see that you would think such, if this is the way you commonly interact with Lady Sansa. If this is anything resembling the row in the godswood yesterday I fear we are needed more than you may realize," Elder Brother replies gravely as he follows Sandor inside. "The young lady is not suitably dressed; let us retire to the study until she is made presentable. I will leave Silent Brother here to escort her to us once she is ready, what say you?" Elder Brother smiles genially. Glaring at Sansa, Petyr reluctantly assents. "Let us go before I genuinely lose my temper, Elder Brother."
Grunting, Sandor steps aside, allowing the men to pass; his intimidating stance not unnoticed by his host as Petyr brushes past. "A wise choice," Elder Brother comments, casting a subtle glance over his shoulder at Sandor and Sansa. "Silent Brother, please attend the Lady Sansa as soon as she is suitable dressed and provide her with whatever she may require-there's a good man."
At that moment he new maid enters the chambers with three young men carrying water. Looking around, she then bows before softly saying, "Forgive the intrusion my lady. I can return later if you wish." Sandor's heated gaze burns into her as she reluctantly turns away from him and briefly glimpses toward the maid, smiling pleasantly. "It is no intrusion; please fill the tub and go my dear. I will require a change of bed linens once I am done, thank you." Sansa replies, never fully taking her eyes off of Sandor.
"Will you need an escort, my lady?" she offers quietly. "No, the Silent Brother will take me to father when I am finished here. That is all." The servants hasten to prepare the bath and set the tea service and then quickly withdraw from the room, never raising their eyes to the daunting Brother of the Seven standing watch over the proceedings.
As soon as the door closes, Sansa hurriedly bolts it shut. Pulling off his robes, Sandor gathers her into his arms, lifting up her sleeve to examine her arm. "Did that bastard hurt you? I felt your fear little bird; it cut like a knife through my chest. Elder Brother had to damn near knock me out to keep me from ripping your fucking door off its hinges."
"Forgive me love. I do not wish to cause you suffering. Petyr is very angry that I sent the raven and dissolved my marriage without his knowledge. He has threatened to send me to the houses of ill repute in King's Landing and Flea Bottom if I do not cooperate with him." Grunting, Sandor gently runs his large fingers over her arm, now turning bruising purple in the shape of Petyr's fingers marking her skin. "Bugger that little bird. If he thinks he can get away with it just let him try-I'll gladly cut his throat for it."
"I…I've never seen him like this Sandor, I fear it will get worse, too. We are not safe here." Nodding, Sandor rubs salve on her bruise. "Wait until he realizes you entered another marriage. I'll cut that buggering bastards balls off for this," he growls before tenderly kissing the area, his warm breath sending shivers of pleasure up her spine. "Did he hit you?" he growls, turning her chin and lightly running his finger along her jawline.
"No, my love-I am certain you would have felt it if he had; he only pinched me hard. We must leave soon Sandor, or I..I may not be able to survive him." Sandor grits his teeth and sets her down on his lap facing him. "I swore I will keep you safe Sansa if it is the last thing I do. He will not hurt you and if he tries I'll kill him with my bare hands, gods be damned. I have an idea to get you out of here and take care of the so-called Lord Protector of the Vale once and for all."
"Shh I know love, I trust you, you must believe me," she whispers against his mouth, kissing him slow and deep. Sandor cannot resist the amount of temptation she presents and begins heatedly kissing down her throat to the edge of her robe, then eagerly casts the garment aside and steps away from her. He allows his eyes to roam over her, taking a moment to admire her beautiful form before claiming her mouth once more.
Sitting on the bed, Sandor moves her so she is standing between his legs and begins caressing her soft skin. "So beautiful," he murmurs against her skin, resting his face between her breasts; Sansa pulls him even closer, running her hands through his hair and inhaling his masculine scent. Caressing under her bottom, he slips his fingers in between her thighs and feels Sansa tense up while letting out a sharp hiss of pain. "Are you tender this morning my beautiful little bird?" he whispers against her stomach, kissing his way down her body.
"Yes, just a bit. I…I think you must be made larger than most men in all areas, Sandor," she shyly whispers into the crown of his head. Chuckling, he continues kissing her. "Aye, so I've been told a time or two. Forgive me my love." Bringing her knees up on his thighs, he continues placing his kisses along her body, finally settling between her legs.
Sansa giggles self-consciously as she feels him nuzzle between her legs, her laughter quickly dissolving into moans of pleasure when he begins running his tongue over her folds. "Tell me where it hurts, little bird." Throwing her head back, Sansa struggles to think coherently. "Here?" he asks, dipping his tongue inside. Gasping, Sansa grabs his hair and presses him closer. "Oh yes, right there husband."
Laughing low, the sound of his voice vibrates through her body as he continues exploring her, plunging his tongue deeper inside of her woman's place languidly. "How about here?" Gasping she nods, "Sandor yes-oh gods that feels so good," she moans, pulling him down onto the bed with her.
Never would he have imagined he could gain such satisfaction from giving pleasure to another and he is pleasantly surprised what a man can learn by taking his time learning his woman's body. Smiling against her skin, Sandor marvels at his lovely wife's response to his gentle lovemaking. Keeping his mouth pressed firmly against her woman's place, Sandor cradles her thighs as she begins rolling her hips against him and crying out his name. Writhing beneath him and gasping, she soon finds her completion, filling Sandor with a deep sense of satisfaction though he has not yet found his own release.
"Sandor, I am ready for you now; come into me I beg you," she whines low, the sound of her passion flooding his body with lust for her as she quickly unlaces him, freeing his manhood. Gently he enters her, moving slowly until she is ready for more, his body trembling with effort to restrain his passion. Spurred on by her reassurances, Sandor increases his movements until the couple finds their completion together. Sandor buries his face in her hair as he shouts his release, clinging to her tightly he begins trembling; Sansa gently runs her hands over him soothingly. "I know my love, I feel it too. So powerful is the bond and it seems to be growing stronger still."
Grinning, he snuggles her against his chest. "I am jealous of the woman who taught you such my love," Sansa smiles up at him, snickering wickedly. "No love, you mustn't be, for you are one in the same. I have had my share of whores it's true but I have loved only you and you alone, wife. I have never made love or cared for another before you." Giggling softly, Sansa rolls out from under him. "My love, who would believe such beautiful words would come from the Hound?"
"The Hound no longer Lady Clegane; only your dog now, I will do as you bid," he teases, scooping her up in his arms and settles them both down into the steaming water. "There is nothing I would like more than to lounge here with you but I must bathe now before our absence raises the curiosity of the men."
"A bath just as you wish my lady, he growls in her ear, then takes the soap and slowly runs his hands over her skin, causing her to moan in spite of herself. Sandor I am afraid Petyr will be suspicious if we tarry," she chides as he finishes washing her body and turns his attention to her hair, running his long fingers through the delicate strands with care. When he is finished rinsing her, she takes her turn bathing him, slowly massaging her soapy hands over his hairy chest. "If you are my dog than it is I who should bathe you."
"Aye you have the right of it-I am your dog love, do as you wish. But don't mention that buggering bastard when I have you naked in my arms," he rasps, moaning low as she languidly runs her soapy hands over his back and thighs. "By the gods that feels good; we'll never leave this room at this rate," he growls into her mouth. "Oh but we must dearest," she giggles against his lips, turning his head so she can wash his hair. Looking up at her, she dips the water over his hair and he feels himself drowning in the dark blue ocean of her eyes.
He is completely carried away by the knowledge that this beautiful creature he has loved and longed for so long is now his in body as well as soul, his treasured wife. "You just wait til I get you all to myself little bird." Smiling brilliantly, she slowly kisses him while towelling off his hair. "I look forward to it husband, we must practice for such a time as much as possible I think." Hooting, he squeezes her tight against his chest and she joins him in laughing at her brazen words.
After they are finished bathing Sandor dries her off and carefully helps her dress; he finds even lacing her gown thrilling and he loves taking care of her in any way she may require. Never has anyone needed him and looked to him for help and he discovers being useful to his love gives him an intoxicating sense of pride and intensifies his devotion all the more.
After he is dressed Sandor pours hot water over the tea leaves and allows them to steep. "This doesn't smell like the mint I gave you," he comments, sniffing the steam rising from the cup closely. Laughing, Sansa cannot help but think he resembles his sigil now more than ever. "It is moon tea dearest, mixed with the mint leaves. I want us to wait for our family, when we are safe." Smiling, he hands her the cup. "A wise little bird you are, wife. Where did you get it pray tell?" Smirking, she gestures toward the door. "Petyr would lose his entire fortune if not for this tea. It is not so hard to come by here in the Eyrie and Ros was most willing to help my maid."
Before they leave the room, Sandor takes her face in his hands and kisses her tenderly. "Little Bird, the day after next I will free you from this cage. You will spend the rest of your life with me and we will make a new nest together for our family." Tears sparkle in her eyes at his words and she passionately kisses him in return. "Little Birds sing sweetest in their own nests my love. I will give you as many songs as you wish for the rest of your days."