Thanks to everyone for your reviews and kind words. Sorry this took a bit but I've been struggling with my health again-thank you for your patience :D
Elder brother listens intently to Sandor and Sansa's account of what transpired in the godswood. Alarmed, he asks many questions and Sansa tells him all she knows of the old gods, weirwood trees, greensight and the bond between her and Sandor. After they finish relating their experience, Elder brother quietly closes his eyes in prayer.
When he is finished, he turns to Sansa and places his hand on hers. "My lady, I know you wish to move toward reestablishing your house and the house of your cousin here with your uncle but after your brother's warning we just cannot risk ignoring the gods. The time to leave is now."
"Of course, Elder brother," Sansa nods sadly, bending to scratch Nymeria's ears; the direwolf has refused to allow Sansa out of her sight ever since the godswood and insists on accompanying them even inside the castle.
"I no longer feel the need to press my advantage. After speaking to my uncle, I can see it is futile to continue my efforts here under such circumstances. We are all at great risk, there is no denying it. Considering the extraordinary measures the gods have taken to warn us, we have no choice but to listen; to do otherwise would be foolhardy."
"That greatly relieves my mind, dear. Rest assured, the gods will bless your obedience and faith. After my prayers, I feel an urgency that we must leave the day after tomorrow at the latest, Sandor. We cannot risk delaying beyond that time."
Turning to Sansa, Sandor places his hand on hers. "What say you, wife?"
"I don't think we can wait. I trust your judgment my love. What does the bond tell you?"
Sandor sighs, stretching his legs out before him. "We have to get away from here, and now. I don't want to waste any more time wife, not after promising your brother I would keep you safe. Lady Stoneheart is bound to be here on the morrow."
"Yes, I am ready, Sandor." Sansa says, squeezing his hand.
Turning to Elder brother she asks, "Do you believe the red god knows of our plans and will try to subvert our efforts?"
"I do not know, Sansa, but it seems since you have the protection of the old gods and the new that should count for something, don't you think?" The holy man smiles, patting her hand.
Clearly relieved, Sansa lets out a deep breath. "Yes of course, Elder brother; that eases my mind greatly."
"It doesn't matter what the red god fucking well plans, wife; he'll not hurt you, I swear it," Sandor growls, drawing her close to his chest.
"Are we are in agreement that we shall leave tonight?" He asks, glancing between the couple.
"Aye, we're in agreement," Sandor nods and Sansa eagerly follows suit.
"I am thankful and I must say most relieved as well. Now then, I just may have an idea that will get all of us out of here without raising suspicions."
After detailing his plan to the couple, the Elder brother and Sandor work out the particulars while Sansa returns to their room. Exhausted emotionally and physically, her mind is in turmoil and her heart aches to think what has befallen her lady mother.
Nymeria naps in the solar as the maid draws her bath, and Sansa uses the time alone to silently pray to the old gods and the new. Please, give my lady mother peace and allow her to return to Father and Robb in the afterlife. Watch over us and keep us safe from the red god and help us escape this place. Keep Sandor safe and help him protect us. Help my brothers and sister as well. So be it.
During her bath, Sandor quietly slips into the room and surprises her by suddenly stripping off and climbing into the tub beside her. Laughing, Sansa splashes him as he pulls her in his lap and begins washing her hair, the moment of lightheartedness between the couple providing a much needed break from the trials of the day.
For a man who has spent a lifetime deprived of affection, having the Little bird so close renders Sandor unable to resist making love to her and after leisurely bathing he scoops her on the bed. It is far more than satisfying a physical desire for Sandor; he has discovered that through the bond Sansa heals his wounded heart and nurtures the yearning he has suppressed his entire life: to love and be loved in return.
He knows she understands this need, for Sansa always willingly submits to his attentions and Sandor senses she needs him as well. In the throes of passion she stares deep into his eyes as he loves her, willing him to feel her love and commitment to him, and feel it he does. With his lovemaking, Sandor tries to communicate the same feelings to her and he reminds himself that she too has been starved for love ever since leaving Winterfell.
Lying together afterward, he feels Sansa's contentment peacefully settle over him as she languidly runs her finger through the hair on his chest. Sandor's mind wanders back to Elder brother's plan. It's hair-brained but the old man's plan just might work, after all. Silently Sansa sleepily snuggles down against him, reveling in the feel of his body next to her own.
A powerful surge of anxiety pulses through Sandor, suddenly disturbing his relaxed state and sensing his apprehension, Sansa raises up to look at him. "What is it? Are you afraid Elder brother's plan will not work?" She says softly, caressing the burned side of his face. "Tell me what troubles you, my love."
"No, that's not it," he grumbles, pulling her up so she is close to his face. "It's…it's that fucking red god…I don't bloody well fear him but truth be told he may try to subvert our plans."
"I know," Sansa frowns. "You have had dealings with his priests before. What if he disrupts our escape?"
"I won't let that happen, no matter what he does," Sandor growls, brushing a stray curl away from her face. "I fucking killed one of his followers and I'll do it again; I'll slaughter all of them if need be. I promised your brother I won't let Lady Stoneheart near you, and I mean to keep my word, Little bird. No one will hurt you, lass, I swear it." He speaks more softly, kissing her face while running his finger along her jaw line.
"I trust you, my love," she whispers, tenderly pressing her lips to his. "You won't let anyone hurt me."
"Anyone tries and I'll kill them. I'll not hesitate to kill that so-called Lady Stoneheart either. Though I know it may be hard for you, wife, you must prepare yourself because it very well may come to that."
"That poor creature is not my mother; you heard what Bran said," Sansa whispers, huddling against his chest. "My mother was denied her rest with my father and brother in the afterlife. Whatever happens, you do whatever you see fit, Sandor. I would not question your methods after you have done so much for me," Sansa sighs. "Where will we go from here?"
"I was thinking we'll catch a boat in White Harbor and make for the north to your brothers," Sandor rasps while gently stroking her cheek. "It will be the safest way for us to travel, faster too. What say you?"
"Oh, yes, Sandor, I would like that very much," she smiles and then takes his hand and kisses it. "It will be so good to see them again. I haven't seen them since they were little, you know. I wonder what they look like now?"
"You'll find out soon enough, wife. We just need to get through this first," Sandor says assuredly. "Three moons from now and you'll be with them once more."
The next morning the couple breaks their fast with Lord Yohn and his sons, as well as Elder brother and Brynden Tully. "Lady Clegane, I received word that your mother should be here within two days."
"Indeed? So quickly? How is such possible, Uncle?" Sansa says casually, affecting her calm demeanor from King's Landing as she daintily raises her teacup to her lips.
"Your mother does not sleep at night anymore, instead preferring to wander. She and the Brotherhood do most of their traveling after nightfall, even here in the Vale."
"The brotherhood-what brotherhood, Uncle? Surely you do not mean the Brotherhood Without Banners?" Sansa asks while watching Sandor, who slams his fist down on the weirwood table at the mention of them.
"You invited those buggering bastards here?" He sneers, standing abruptly and knocking over his chair in his haste. "What kind of shit is this, Blackfish? Trying to kill me and still keep your hands clean, are you?"
"Dearest Uncle, this is most unwelcome news," Sansa begins, rising to leave with her husband. "Perhaps you are unaware that the Brotherhood dealt treacherously with my husband in the past. Sandor bears the scars of his ordeal on his sword arm still and should they come here, I will insist on justice for him."
"The Brotherhood is a necessary though despicable presence if we are to win back our respective seats, my dear," the Blackfish says dismissively. "You must learn to sacrifice some things for the greater good."
"How can you say such? Uncle, this is most inhospitable; I hardly know what to say," Sansa says firmly, anger flashing in her blue eyes as she takes Sandor by the hand.
Looking down at her, Sandor clenches his jaw but softens his tone as he addresses her. "Don't worry your head over it, wife. I've already put the men responsible in the ground," he rasps, taking her hand. Turning back to Brynden, he snarls, "Just as I'll run my sword through the rest of them. Given the chance, I'll end the so-called brave companions."
"I am glad to hear it Sandor, for such men cannot go unpunished," Elder brother adds. "Their cruelty and cowardice toward you is unspeakable."
"Uncle, after the atrocity they inflicted upon my beloved husband, we cannot possibly be expected to tolerate their abhorrent existence under any circumstances. Should they come here, I will insist they be brought to justice."
Lord Yohn glances anxiously at his sons and then at the Blackfish. "Lord Tully, Lady Sansa speaks rightly; I heard what they did to Clegane. They have no authority to do such things. They are outlaws."
"If you mean to murder me, then bloody well get on with it," Sandor growls, bringing his face within inches of the Blackfish. Sansa slowly moves away from him and stands behind Elder brother.
"Sansa, Sandor, please be seated," Brynden sighs, gesturing at their empty chairs. "I understand your outrage and believe me when I say I am not insensitive to your past suffering, Sandor. All of you must understand that the Brotherhood have been companions of Lady Catelyn ever since the massacre at The Twins. She will go nowhere without them since the so-called red wedding and they serve her loyally."
"At Uncle Edmure's wedding feast, when Robb was killed," Sansa murmurs sadly. "It was there that Beric raised her from the dead?"
"Yes," the Blackfish nods, adjusting his tunic as he returns to his seat. Reluctantly Sandor sits down and Sansa soon sits down beside him. Lord Yohn frowns at his sons, displeased by Lord Tully's words.
"Several months ago, Lord Baelish and I met Brienne of Tarth, the sworn shield of my mother. She is a most honorable woman; I can hardly believe she travels with them."
"She does not, my dear. Your mother had her tried and executed along with her squire shortly after she returned to her without you or Arya."
Gasping, Sansa clutches Sandor's hand. "Are you certain? You must be mistaken! Lady Brienne…and poor Podrick, too! I cannot believe it! For shame, Uncle!"
"Regretfully it is true, Sansa. Your mother sent the raven to me herself, saying she executed the both of them a month or so back."
That was when my pains started, when I was thinking of Sansa. Bloody hells, it wasn't only her fear I felt; it was the gods warning me then she was in grave danger from both her mother and Littlefucker, Sandor concludes while gently stroking his wife's arm.
"Whatever for, Uncle?" Sansa manages weakly, struggling to compose herself. "I cannot believe anyone would try her so quickly."
"The Brotherhood tried and executed her at your mother's behest. When Brienne returned from the Vale she informed your mother that she was searching for Sansa at the bidding of Jaime Lannister. This led Cat to believe that Brienne turned traitor, along with the fact she was carrying Oathkeeper, one of two Lannister swords forged from Ice."
"Is that the tale, now?" Sandor shakes his head. "Killed Lady Brienne over a sword, did she? Bugger that. Lady Stark knew Brienne would not go along with her treachery."
"There is no treachery to speak of, Clegane! There is no doubt her sword was Jaime Lannisters and forged from Ice; Oathkeeper is Valyrian steel." The Blackfish growls contemptuously at Sandor, causing the scarred man to smirk in response.
"Yes, I noticed Lady Brienne's sword was made from Valyrian steel," Sansa shakily says, turning to Sandor.
"Easy, lass; you must calm yourself," he rasps softly, squeezing her hand.
"That in of itself is not proof Lady Brienne was a traitor. Perhaps Jaime felt he owed it to her for some deed. It is the Lannister's wrong that they stole Lord Eddard's greatsword; you know that, Lord Tully," Elder brother gravely remarks.
"Indeed I do; however, Brienne swore she was still faithful but Cat insisted she prove it by killing Jaime. Brienne refused, stating that Jaime is a changed man. Cat told her she must choose, either kill Jaime or be hanged. Brienne refused to choose and so she was hung, and Podrick Payne along with her."
"Am I to understand that Lady Catelyn hung the boy, too, for the supposed crime of betrayal? So, apparently this has no bearing on the Lannisters theft and bastardizing of Ice, it would seem," Lord Yohn says gravely, exchanging anxious glances with his sons.
"Indeed; Catelyn did not so much as give Lady Brienne the chance to return the heirloom. The boy was in the wrong place at the wrong time, poor lad. Catelyn felt she was well within her rights and obtaining justice for her family."
Sandor looks at Elder brother and shakes his head, fury clouding his mind at Sansa's mother. "Spare me this pious bleating, Blackfish." He remembers Lady Brienne's visit to the Quiet Isle; she was kind hearted in her speech and respectful to the Elder brother. She even cleared his name by killing the true raper of the Saltpans, and the man feels he owes her one. Poor Pod, he sighs. Sandor was always fond of Podrick in his own way, the boy reminding him of himself at that age.
"Gods be good," Sansa whispers, her face paling at the news. "I cannot believe my mother would do such a thing."
"Nor I," Bryden agrees dismally. "I found the news most disturbing, but after all that your mother has endured…losing Robb, Bran and Rickon, and Arya…"
"It would seem Lady Catelyn has returned from the grave altered, and not for the better," Elder brother comments darkly.
"No worse than you, Clegane. You've killed your share in your time, for all your repentance."
"I'm the same as you. The only difference is, I don't lie about what I am," Sandor rasps, leaning back in his seat. Brynden opens his mouth to speak but stops upon seeing Sansa's appalled expression.
"Do you have any useful information, Blackfish, such as why the kingslayer sent this Lady Brienne to find Sansa?" Sandor scowls, taking Sansa by the hand.
"After Joffrey was assassinated, Jaime claimed he wanted to keep Sansa safe from Cersei. He felt it was justice for Brienne to protect her with her father's own steel, according to the maid of Tarth."
"It was Father…he was trying to protect me! He must have moved Jaime to do such a thing, Uncle! And mother…she…she" Sansa stutters out, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Shh, Little bird," Sandor mutters in her ear as he pulls her close. "He cannot hear you now; think of what Bran said. You must calm yourself," Sniffling, Sansa pats him lightly, indicating she understands.
"The Maiden is always ready to protect the innocent, Lady Sansa," Elder brother comments, clearing his throat while raising one eyebrow at her.
"Indeed, Elder brother," Lord Royce agrees with a nod.
"Of course, forgive me. My grief has overtaken my senses," she smiles politely, understanding she must not give away her thoughts. "Do continue, uncle."
Before Bryden Tully speaks, Carrig and several of his men enter the dining hall, bowing low. "Lord Tully, Lord Royce; we must leave soon as possible. The clan needs us and we have stayed here long enough."
Nodding, Brynden gestures to Lord Royce. "We were hoping you might stay a bit longer to secure the area but it is no matter."
"We do not wish to be here with the company you will be keeping," Carrig stares at the men; Brynden smiles at the man. "Of course; Chief Carrig, your loyalty here will be handsomely rewarded. Allow us until this evening to prepare your earnings. Meet us with a wagon later this afternoon and you will find foodstuffs, furs and plenty of ale and wine ready to return to your clan, along with my most sincere gratitude."
Grinning, Carrig nods, "I knew you high lords wouldn't be forgetting your manners. We'll make ready our things and meet you at dusk in front of the castle storehouses."
Suddenly rising, Elder brother approaches Carrig. "I, too, must leave tonight. I can see my work here is finished and no doubt there is much that needs attending on the Quiet Isle. Might I have a word with you Chief Carrig, as you prepare? I will not delay your work with formality."
"Aye, you're welcome to do so, holy man," Carrig says, clearly puzzled. "We're headed to the stables now; you ready to join us?"
"Yes, thank you, Chief Carrig," Elder brother smiles. "My lords and lady; pray excuse me but I have important matters to attend," he says, nodding to Sandor; Sansa notices Sandor nods back with his eyebrow raised.
When the holy man is out of sight, Brynden says, "As I was saying, Sansa, your mother is much changed after her…experience. It is necessary to adapt in such critical times as our families are now facing with the war. I am sure you can appreciate the unusual circumstances by which she comes to us and behave respectfully as is expected of you, child."
"Certainly, Uncle," Sansa smiles, bowing her head to him. "Please forgive my outburst; I have been very emotional as of late."
"Of course you have, my dear," he smiles and Lord Royce nods understandingly, causing Sandor to growl under his breath.
"Rest assured, dearest Uncle, I will behave with the utmost decorum as is expected of Lord Eddard Stark's daughter; regrettably I must confess living with Lord Baelish has made me forget myself."
"Hardly a wonder, my dear," he frowns, remembering Baelish's behavior as a young man taken in as warden of his brother Hoster, "But your mother will set things aright; although how she will take to your marriage is entirely another matter."
"Well, please know that I will do what Father would have expected of me," she bows. "Pray excuse me, my lords; I would very much like to go to the godswood with my husband for prayers."
"I can see you are far more devout than either your mother or father, Sansa; it does my heart good."
Smirking, Sandor replies, "Aye, I'm sure it does. Come, wife," he says, leading her by the arm.
"Thank you, Uncle," she says, placing a small kiss on his cheek before retiring to her room on Sandor's arm with Nymeria in tow.