Thank you everyone for all your kind comments and con/crit :) I've been in and out of the hospital again and I'm sorry I've been unable to thank each of you personally. Please know that I appreciate the time each of you take to comment on my story. :)
"Sandor, it is my brother's voice!" Sansa cries, clinging to the Heart tree.
"Careful, wife," he says, taking her by the arm and leading her away. "Don't get so close, love. This might be some type of bloody sorcery," Sandor rasps low, gripping the hilt of his sword as he guardedly surveys the godswood. "I saw plenty with Beric Dondarrion and Thoros; bastards both of them with their fucking red fire god. How do we know you're who you say you are?"
"You dreamed of Sansa," the wind rustles through the leaves. "She came to you every night in your dreams and haunted you as you dug graves during the day. You felt her mourning for you; it burned within you, consuming you." Snorting, Sandor frowns while glancing at Sansa.
"She buried your cloak right here and cried for you every day. She begged the gods return you to her. You both shared the pain of separation as physical suffering and were drawn to each other." Sansa's tears fall at her brothers words she nods slowly at her husband.
"Yes brother, all that you have said it true. Oh dearest, I do not know how it is possible but I thank the gods you heard my prayer. I cannot thank you and Rickon enough for answering me. I am only sorry you are no longer with me, that you both have rejoined Father in the afterlife. I…I am the last of the Starks but I am not alone. The gods brought Sandor back to me and I hope you know how grateful I am that you sent my husband."
"No, Sansa; Rickon and I are not with Father. Dry your tears; we are alive, as is Jon and Arya. Theon claimed he killed us but it was the miller's children he burned. I am with the Reeds, with Howland, Jojen and Meera. Hodor took care of us; please sister, you must not grieve any longer."
"Oh thank the gods!" Sansa gasps out, the color draining from her face as she reaches out for her husband. Sandor steadies her, carefully sitting her beside the pool.
"I heard your cries of distress, Sansa. I heard your prayers to the Heart tree. Howland and Jojen felt your anguish and encouraged me to listen to the Heart tree for you. Every afternoon I waited for you, hoping to hear your voice. Remember what Father taught us about the weirwoods?"
Searching her mind, Sansa finally nods fervently. "Yes, brother, do you mean that they are all connected? That they all hear our prayers?"
"I know it is difficult to believe but it is true. I have seen it and I feel it now," the wind howls through the godswood.
"Brother, how is it you speak to me through the Heart tree now and not before?"
"I needed time to learn how to hone my gifts."
"Jojen and Howland are not able to teach you?"
"I cannot explain it all, Sansa, forgive me. I am able to join with the Heart tree and become one with it. I sense Arya is able to do the same with Nymeria, even over great distances. I have joined with Summer, smelled the dirt of the forest floor and tasted his kills. Once I even explored a cave within Hodor."
"Old Nan told us of such abilities, though you may have been too little to remember what she said. I remember you began having vivid dreams after your accident, as though you could see through Summer's eyes. Mother and Father spoke of it and Maester Luwin called it 'warging', though he did not think that was the source of your dreams as I recall."
"Maester Luwin is dead, Sansa; he went to Father under the Heart tree in Winterfell. Roderick Cassel is with Father, too; Theon killed him. Rickon and I saw it happen."
Sighing deeply, Sansa slowly nods. "I am very sorry, brother. Jory Cassel is also with them; Jaime Lannister killed him when he tried to protect Father in King's Landing."
"Jaime is also the one who pushed me out the window. It was not Tyrion; he tried to help me in his own way."
"I care not for him, either, brother. The Lannisters forced me to marry Tyrion ," Sansa says, shuddering. "Lord Baelish took me away from him and brought me here; he had his own ulterior motives too."
"Do not fret, sister. The old gods did not honor your vows, forced as they were; the Heart tree told me so. I heard your husband's septon dissolve your wedded union a few days ago in the godswood and I related such to Elder brother."
"You? You are the one who answered his prayer?"
"No, sister, I just imparted to him what I heard from the Heart tree. I also heard you and Sandor say your wedded vows. His devotion and love for you is so powerful sister, and Rickon and I are both happy to have Sandor as a goodbrother now." A strong gust of wind whips through the trees, sending a shower of red leaves over the couple.
"Where are you now, brother? I worry for your safety in your present state."
"I am one with the weirwood tree. Hodor is here watching over me, as is Summer."
"Hodor is with you? I am so glad!" Sansa says, excitedly squeezing Sandor's hand.
"Hodor? That simple stable boy with giant's blood?" Sandor rasps, raising his eyebrow.
"Yes, Sandor. He carried Rickon and me to safety guided along by a Wilding woman named Osha that Father once held at Winterfell," the leaves rustle loudly.
"Oh Bran, words cannot express how thankful I am to know you and Rickon are safe. Please tell Rickon that I love him and thank Hodor for me and give him my love as well," Sansa weeps, hugging herself tightly. The pack survived though the lone wolf died. The wolves will come again. The wolves will return to Winterfell, I feel it in my blood just as surely as winter is coming.
"Jojen and Howland are teaching me to use my greensight as well as to control the warging, sister, that is how I am able to speak to you now. Even though I cannot walk, I have other abilities now and there is great power to be had." At these words Sansa and Sandor each hear Bran's words deep inside their hearts, like a whisper, and no longer in the wind gusting throughout the godswood.
"The old gods have blessed you, Bran. Please, I have no right to tell you how to manage your abilities, my love, but as your sister allow me to say you must take great care in how you use them. I do not think you should warg into Hodor; he is simple and it will frighten him, I am sure of it. It is not kind to take advantage of him in such a way dearest, and Father would not wish it."
"Yes, I felt a deep fear in him while we were joined; I also felt Father's unhappiness with me after. I will not promise I will not do it again, though Maester Luwin warned me about such, and still does at times. I would never hurt Hodor, you know that."
Sansa closes her eyes. What has he become? My sweet little brother, what has happened to you?
"You must not hesitate to tell me your feelings Sansa, I feel your distress even now as we speak. I know this is all very hard to accept. Allow me to help you."
"I will, love, I promise. It is so very hard to put into words what I feel right now; this is all so overwhelming. You must understand, I thought I was alone for so very long…and now to find you alive and yet so altered…it is a lot to digest, brother, forgive me," Sansa trails off and Sandor pulls her closer. "Brother, when I heard you and Rickon were dead, it was very odd, as I did not feel you or Rickon's loss as I did when Robb was killed. It was the same with Lady and with Father and Mother, though she is…changed now in an unspeakable way. Have you not felt it?"
"Yes, I no longer feel her. When I think of Mother now, she is hard and bitter, decayed and empty. Sister, this may be hard to hear but she was taken from Father and Robb in the afterlife by the red god. You must not go near her, Sansa. Promise me."
"Of course dearest…I promise; but why, Bran?" Sansa says uncertainly, reaching for Sandor's hand.
"The red god R'Hllor is using her along with Stannis Baratheon to gain control over the great houses of Westeros. He attempted such with Daenerys Targaryen as well; Jojen saw it in a dream that he tried to steal her dragons by means of a warlock in Qarth. Sandor, the red god controlled Beric Dondarrion after he was raised from the dead, which is how he was able to set his sword aflame in your trial by combat."
Sansa looks at Sandor questioningly. "My love, do you know of what Bran speaks?"
"Aye, I believe so. You mean the red god took him after he was brought back from when Gregor killed him the first time, boy?"
"Yes, goodbrother, in the same way the red god's spirit transferred to Mother when Beric gave his life for hers. Howland and Jojen felt it happen, as did I; it was black, evil. The creature Lady Stoneheart is not our mother; she does the bidding of R'Hllor now. I fear for your safety. She is seeking you, Sansa, even now, to use you to get Winterfell and control of the north. If she succeeds, the old gods of the forest will not survive. The red god will hold the north and destroy the weirwoods and perhaps even the children of the forest. I will not survive, either."
"On no! No, Bran I swear it on the old gods and the new, I will never cooperate with her or whatever that red god plans. Can you not entreat the help of the old gods on our behalf?"
"Yes, I already have done so on this matter and continue my efforts. Sandor, you must keep Sansa safe, I beg you; do not let that creature near my sister. Protect her in our stead, goodbrother, and I will help you."
"I will keep her safe and bring her to you, Bran. I swear it on the old gods and the new," Sandor says, kneeling and laying his sword at the foot of the Heart tree.
"Bran, we will come north to you, as soon as we are able. I have so much to say to you…so many questions. How will I find you again?"
"Come back to the Heart tree tomorrow afternoon just as you always have done and I will be here."
"Bran, I love you and Rickon both…I have missed you so! Knowing you are alive, I cannot wait to be with you again!" Sansa cries, her tears freezing to her cheeks.
"We are never apart, sister, not really. I will be with you, as I have been since I heard your prayers. It will not be the same as before, sister, but we will always be joined. We both love you and long to see you."
A tremendous gust of icy wind envelopes the godswood, showering leaves over the couple after which a hushed silence falls over the entire area. Sansa and Sandor glance around the godswood; a light snow begins falling around them.
"He is gone," Sansa softly sobs, sinking to her knees on the frozen ground. Nymeria tilts up her muzzle and emits a long, mournful howl, the sorrowful sound sending shivers through the couple.
Sandor helps Sansa to her feet and then stands up and shakes his head several times as if to clear his mind. "Seven buggering hells, your little brother talks to us through a tree?! I thought I had seen it all with Beric's flaming sword!"
"It is too much to bear. All that he said, husband…it's all so very overwhelming," Sansa comments, softly running her fingers over the carved face of the ancient weirwood. Sniffing, he kicks at the soft dirt next to the Heart tree, deep in thought. Unsure what to do next, Sansa kneels down and silently begins praying before the Heart tree.
"So am I to understand the origin of our bond was made by this Jojen and Howland Reed together with your brother? They bonded us after your prayers to the Heart tree?" he says finally, drawing her close to him after she finishes her prayers.
"No, love, the men did not make it, exactly; it would be more correct to say they entreated the old gods, who then answered their prayers and formed the bond. Those with greensight have a special connection with the old gods and the children of the forest; that is what Father taught us. I am sorry but I do not know much more beyond that."
Sandor slumps down on a nearby rock and rubs his hands over his face anxiously. "After fighting Beric and Thoros, I know that fucking red god doesn't mess around. It is powerful magic his followers carry, I've seen it firsthand. Suffered for it, too," Sandor growls, rubbing his scarred arm. "We must move quickly if that undead creature means to find you."
"Agreed. After Bran's warning, I am unwilling to stay here to wait and see what will happen next. My uncle should be here on the morrow or perhaps even late this evening-what should we do?"
"Little bird, our bond has already told us all we need to know; we just need to listen and act on it. Both of us have desired to leave this place since we were reunited in the godswood."
Sansa nods gravely, "Yes, I feel the same way."
"As for Lady Stoneheart, well, your brother warned us to stay away from her and you best believe I'll die before I allow her or any of her fucking yes men anywhere near you."
"We should talk to Elder brother at once, Sandor. He needs to know all that has happened. He'll know what is best and we cannot leave him here for that horrible red god."
Grunting, Sandor nods. "Aye, that we will. I'll take you straight away to him though I say we get the fuck away from this bloody place as soon as possible."
Frowning, Sansa slowly assents. "If that creature is determined to use me to gain Winterfell and the north, I imagine she will not hesitate to do whatever she deems necessary to force me to stay at the Eyrie. If my uncle does her bidding, how will we leave?"
"One thing at a time, love. Let's go to Elder brother."
When Sandor and Sansa returned to the castle, they find Brynden Tully with a small retinue of Tully bannermen along with Lord Royce and his sons awaiting their return in the High Hall of the Arryns. Curtseying low, Sansa approaches her uncle and takes him by the hands. "Dearest greatuncle, it eases my mind greatly to have you with us here. Allow me to introduce my husband-"
"Sandor Clegane, the Hound as was. I've heard of him," the Blackfish comments dully, warily sizing up Sandor. "Formerly in service to the Lannisters, niece, who may I remind you now hold Riverrun, the ancestral home of your mother."
"Aye, I served the Lannisters; me and a thousand others. What of it?"
Ignoring Sandor's reply, Brynden frowns at Sansa and takes her by the arm, moving her so that they cannot be overheard by the Royces. "Your mother will have much to say about your choice, young lady. Were you so long with the Lannisters that you have forgotten your house words and what you owe your family?"
"Family. Duty. Honor. Greatuncle, I have not forgotten, nor can I forget that winter is coming. Considering both Tully and Stark sides of my family left me with the Lannisters and then isolated in the Eyrie with the predatory Lord Baelish, a better question I could not have asked myself. I ask you: where was the family, duty or honor in allowing Lord Baelish to keep me here?"
Sansa's voice is soft, gentle and the sound of his beloved wife's wounded tone is fit to break Sandor's heart. Drawing a deep breath, Sandor struggles to still his fury; it is all he can do not to slit the Blackfish's throat.
Brynden notices Sandor's intimidating demeanor and gingerly approaches her. "Sansa, it is much more complicated than you realize, child. We needed to do what was best in the long-term, for both Houses Tully and Stark," Brynden begins gently, reaching for her arm.
Turning away, Sansa takes hold of Sandor's powerful bicep and he responds by placing his other hand over her own. "Please, greatuncle, at least honor me enough to be honest. Though I am still young, I am no longer a child and living with Lord Baelish has taught me the ways of the game of thrones, I assure you. Again I ask, why did you and Lady Stoneheart leave me here once you suspected I was in the Eyrie?"
"Your mother…" the Blackfish begins before staring at Sandor apprehensively. Fury now radiates off the man; sensing the depth of Sansa's hurt and suffering, Sandor glares at him with a murderous, abject hatred. "Your mother believed you would be safe here and I concurred, knowing Baelish as I do."
"That undead abomination is not Catelyn Stark and you know it, Blackfish. Your niece almost died from the hell Littlefinger put her through. What do you have to say for yourself?" Sandor seethes, his unique understanding of the little bird's suffering leaving him brimming with fury.
"Your mother and I needed assurance that you would be safe until we could come for you with enough men to free you from Baelish. I'll leave the rest of the details for your mother to explain to you. She will be here on the morrow; she walks through the night now, in no need of rest. I do not expect you to understand, Sansa, but you must believe we did what we thought was best."
It is futile to discuss this with him. I must not waste any more time with this and go to Elder brother immediately. "I do believe that, uncle," Sansa says quietly before turning to Lord Royce. "My lord, I would be most grateful if you would see to the accommodations for my uncle and his men."
"Of course, my lady. Preparations are being made as we speak."
"Excellent," Sansa smiles, and Sandor notices her face take on the passive mask of courtesy she so often wore in King's Landing. "My husband and I wish to offer prayers with Elder brother and afterward we will retire for the evening. Greatuncle, I am sure you must be very tired from your travels; indeed, this day has been most trying for everyone present, is that not so?"
"Indeed, Lady Sansa, it has been most trying indeed. Burying a child is never easy," Lord Royce bows low.
"Lord Royce, should my greatuncle wish it, would you please escort him to the crypt to see his nephew's final resting place?" Sansa smiles politely.
Brynden nods eagerly at her words. "Yes, Lord Royce, at your earliest convenience."
"It would be my honor, my lord," Lord Royce bow as his two sons rise from their respective places.
Watching the men disappear from the hall, Sandor leans close to his wife, "We must make haste and speak to Elder brother while we have the chance."
"Oh yes, do let's hurry," Sansa eagerly hurries alongside her husband ascending the winding staircase to Elder brother's room.