Sansa
"Arya! Will you get down from there! I am not sitting mending any more of your dresses!"
Sansa huffed and folded her arms as she looked up into the tall tree her sister was currently swinging like a monkey from. Her skirts snagged on branches all the way up and from where she was now one fall and she would break something.
"Come and get me then!" the dark haired girl with mud smeared across her cheek shouted down to her gleefully.
Sansa sighed and returned to her seat amongst the roots of the tree, sitting on a root delicately so her skirts pooled around her beautifully and her posture remained straight and proper. She opened the book in her lap once more and continued reading.
The two sisters were in the large gardens that surrounded their house. Mother was having tea inside with their aunt Lysa who had come to visit with her son. Arya and Sansa had opted to spending the morning in the sun while little Robin played with their younger brothers near them. They had both been charged with looking after them but Sansa grumbled to herself when a few leaves floated down landing on her book as Arya scrambled from branch to branch above her. Yet another child Sansa was charged with.
A snap of a branch and a loud thud signaled Arya's ungraceful decent to the ground.
"Gods, Arya look at you!"
The younger Stark daughter looked down at her muddied skirts and back to her sister.
"What?"
Sansa couldn't fight the smile that slid across her face as she stood to fix the strands of wild hair that had come undone from Arya's bun. "Whoever is mad enough to marry you, Arya – I pity" Arya snorted but said nothing as Sansa licked her handkerchief and wiped the mud smear from her sister's cheek.
Arya was quiet for a time while Sansa scrubbed at her cheek.
"Are you going to marry Joffrey?"
Sansa froze at the sudden question then slowly lowered her hands from Arya's face, tucking the hanky into the sleeve of her dress.
"What are you asking such a question for?"
"I was wondering. He only danced with you the other night and you were a blushing, smiling mess of goo. It was embarrassing."
"You were hardly there how would you know?"
"I was talking to Gendry!"
Sansa stared at her sister, "who on earth is Gendry?"
Arya rolled her eyes and plopped down on the ground, picking at a blade of grass and stripping it to pieces in her grubby hands. "He's a servant orphan boy of the Baratheons. Says he's worked for them his entire life, his mother was a scullery maid or something."
"Arya you should be talking to the gentlemen your age, mother and father will be seeking you a husband soon" Sansa told her, sitting down gingerly next to her sister.
"I don't want to marry, I'll be a spinster and I'll teach all your pretty children to fight with sticks and climb trees and harass you all day and night" she replied, her voice full of a smug tone.
Sansa smiled and shook her head. Arya was too headstrong for her own good.
They sat in silence for a while; Sansa reading her fairytales and Arya plucking the petals from a daisy.
The air was filled with the music of birds and laugher of Bran, Rikon and Robin as they ran around the garden playing kings and knights.
Arya spoke quietly after a while, "I don't like Joffrey very much."
Sansa frowned and looked to her sister, but she kept her eyes on the flower in her fingers, "why not? He is handsome, charming, has great fortune that he will inherit one day. What is there not to like?"
"I don't know. I just have a feeling. I don't trust him."
Sansa had nothing to say to that for a while. Arya didn't like many things, but that was mostly silly things such as sewing or singing or dancing. Very rarely did she dislike a person.
"And that man – that Mr Clegane. Did you see him? What an awful face! I wonder what happened to him."
Sansa stiffened remembering the tight grip of his hand on her wrist and the sour smell of wine upon his breath. Sansa had told Arya discreetly about her encounter with the man the night after the ball. Arya had said she didn't expect any other behavior from such a rough looking man. But Sansa had been shaken and Arya had resorted to insulting the man until Sansa laughed at her silly adjectives.
"I don't think many people liked him very much," she said, folding her book over and setting it aside, "he never spoke to anyone, never danced nor even cracked a smile. Just drank all night and followed Joffrey about like a dog."
"He looked at you a lot" Arya told her quietly.
Sansa's eyes widened. True she noticed Sandor's eyes upon her while she danced with Joffrey. But she had thought that simply a coincidence.
"He did? When?"
"Why do you care? He was mean to you remember? You don't like him" Arya huffed, throwing a handful of grass away and slouching further down the trunk of the tree.
The sound of horses' hoofs stirred the quiet of the morning. The sisters rose and walked to the gate where they were greeted with the sight of Joffrey astride a snow white steed. His hair shone in the sun's rays and his smile was fit to dazzle. He looked every bit a handsome prince and Sansa quickly forgot Arya's words of doubt against him.
Slightly behind him riding on a huge black stallion – Sansa's heart jumped slightly to see him – was none other than Sandor Clegane.
"Gods, speak of the devil and he shall appear" Arya muttered beside Sansa who elbowed her in the ribs discreetly but hard enough to hear a satisfying grunt.
"Good morning to you, fair lady," Joffrey called to them as they neared, "We though it the perfect day to call upon you" he dismounted gracefully, handing the reigns to a servant who hurried over.
He stepped towards Sansa, taking the hand she offered to him and kissing it softly, "a week is much to long to be separated from such a beautiful lady."
Sansa smiled but the spell was broken when the huge form of Mr Clegane stepped beside Joffrey.
"Miss Stark" he greeted her, nodding gruffly in her general direction, "Miss Ala"
"Arya" corrected the younger stark, curtsying stiffly and glaring up at the man.
Joffrey chuckled, "shall we take a stroll around the garden then? Fine day." He offered an arm to Sansa who took it gladly and glanced back to see Sandor remain standing where he was, Arya and he seemingly bickering over something. Sansa was surprised to see them talking at all but a small tug from Joffrey soon had her attention fixed back upon him.
"I apologize if my fair lady dislikes the presence of Mr. Clegane here. I'm afraid mother insisted I take him with me."
"Not at all, sir," Sansa gushed, savoring how he called her his fair lady.
"It is true his manners are ill, but he has served my parents well and is an old friend of theirs because of it. Although I am sure you wonder about his gruesome scars."
Sansa noted how his voice seemed to take on an excited edge as he spoke, but she remained silent, nodding in answer and concentrating on listening.
"I am sure you have heard already of his reputation? If not this may shock you. The man is quite wild. There have been stories of how he drinks non stop – I myself can testify to that though that knowledge is common. But there are many other sins to add to his name. He is known to whore, many argue he has had every whore in Westeros and none can bear to look upon his face. He has killed too, yes I see you are shocked but it is true. There is much blood upon his hands. Many believe he has killed whores who look upon his face, cursing them and killing them. "
Sansa felt her stomach roll at all she heard. She couldn't believe it, yet with every word that left Joffrey's mouth she saw truth sparkle in his green eyes and his words indeed seemed to fit the horrid man he called companion. But his tale was not over.
"It is rumored he killed his parents and raped his sister before killing her. And that his elder brother – trying to save his sweet sister fought him, falling him into a fire in doing so and gave him those awful burns. Sandor outraged killed him swiftly and most bloodily. I have heard it said he did so to acquire the lands, but I can tell you now he never goes home. Not unless it is urgent. No, I know that he did it all out of pure joy. But his crimes could never be proven so he walks free. My family keep him for we seem to gentle the rage in him – he hasn't killed since but he still drinks. I like to think in keeping him as a companion I may set an example for him – perhaps I can help him become better."
Sansa felt her head reel and sat quickly on the grass.
"My lady, oh sweet Sansa I am sorry. I should not have said anything I'm afraid I got carried away" Joffrey implored, leaning down to her.
She shook her head, "I apologize I am well I just feel a little light headed. What an awful story I cannot believe it. How horrid a man! I could never have imagined details such as this-"
"-my lady, I ask you not to speak of this to anyone – most of all him. I do not like to think of what it may mean for you."
"No, of course not. I would not wish to be anywhere near him least of all confront him for it. You were right to tell me, sir. Now I can see just how horrid he is. How could you not reveal his true nature? Why keep his past secret?"
"As I said his crimes could not be proven for him to be condemned, and I hope my companionship with him will gentle him. I hope I am doing some good for him and help him move on from the past" Joffrey said, a wistfulness to his voice as he looked out across the garden.
"You are a good person for it. Better than most - than I."
"Perhaps we should return; I fear our absence may disturb your mother. And I must return home, come" he said, pulling her awkwardly to her feet.
She remained silent as they made their way back; Joffrey continued speaking, commenting on the weather and such. Her mind was a blur with all she had heard. This man's reputation seemed worse than she had heard. How could such a man even be allowed into society? How could a man have treated her so that night of the ball and had nothing to say to her upon their next meeting? Neither an apology nor even a word of acknowledgement? But now she was glad for it. being anywhere near that man would make her sick now.
She remained immersed in her thoughts even as they reached the door to the house where mother and aunt Lysa stood waiting.
It was only when she heard the gruff voice of the man storming her thoughts bid her a good day and follow Joffrey to their horses. She watched them ride off, glaring at the huge back of Sandor Clegane, vowing to hate them man forever.