Sansa

Sansa knew she was being unusually quiet as she sipped at her tea. She sat with Robb and her mother as Jon and Theon challenged each other to a game of cards. Usually Sansa would be leaning in by Robb's side, whispering advice and cheats to him to tell Jon throughout. Theon would call her a cheat and laugh as she denied his accusations while having Arya mouth his cards to her from behind Theon's back.

But today she sat quiet, her eyes staring off into nothing as thoughts that had occupied her head for days on end continued to blaze.

Thoughts of a cruel, twisted man who's soul was as black as his stallion. A gruesome face and eyes that she felt on her like a predator.

They had been invited to the Tyrell's for tea and cards. Only the Starks and Baratheons had been invited but the room was a buzz with conversation, music, dancing and laughter.

Robert's booming laugh stole her attention and she looked to where her father sat with the man, they too playing cards and her father obviously losing as Robert laughed triumphantly while signaling for more wine.

Sansa looked around the room and smiled when she saw Margery dancing with Renly. They had been spending a great amount of time together at each party and there was talk of a betrothal promising between them. Sansa was happy for Margery; Renly was a handsome man and very well liked, and he got on very well with her family – especially Loras, she had noticed. They spent just as much time together and Margery did.

Arya she noticed was missing, but she had seen her wander off outside earlier. The day was warm and sunny so Arya was no doubt halfway up a tree by now or running as fast as she could through the gardens.

Cersei sat closely with Jaime speaking with him. At a table near them sat Tyrion and with him – Sansa frowned to see – sat Mr Clegane. They laughed as they talked. Sansa liked Tyrion quite well, though she hadn't spoke to him very often, she had heard plenty from Arya and Jon who both seemed to love him and his sarcastic words and funny manner.

She snapped out of her thoughts and started to see Sandor's gray eyes studying her curiously. She turned abruptly back to the game and breathed out slowly, feeling a jolt in her stomach when she still felt those eyes on her.

"Sansa, are you alright?" he mother asked gently, touching her shoulder.

"Yes, I'm fine" she excused quickly, "I feel a head ache coming on, I must need some fresh air." She stood and made to leave but her mother touched her hand, concerned.

"I'm fine, mother. I will go see if I can find Arya." Her mother nodded though still looked worried but Sansa hurried from the room out the doors to the gardens.

She breathed deeply and sighed when she emerged into the fresh afternoon air. They gardens of the Tyrell's home were famous in Westeros; filled with flowers and plants that Sansa couldn't even name. all in bright, beautiful colors and filled the air with their sweet perfumes. Sansa often spent time here with Margery and helped her care for the roses – Margerey's favorite flowers.

Sansa frowned as she remembered back to the Pooles' ball; how Joffrey had offered her Mr Clegane's hand as a dance partner. The horror and fear that had gripped her in that moment was leveled with the anger and disgust she felt when looking upon that scarred face. If she could have she would have ignored him completely but…her hand circled her wrist where all those weeks ago he had gripped her so tightly she had faint bruises the next day.

Sansa was sure Joffrey had made the suggestion in another attempt at making Clegane a better person – getting him to interact at these functions instead of brooding and glaring in the corner all night. But she still couldn't shake that look he had in his eyes, Sansa couldn't name it but it had made her feel uneasy.

But what had alarmed Sansa the most was when Clegane made no effort to refuse. She had not seen him dance at any of the parties he had attended with Joffrey. Yet when Joffrey had suggested it – he hadn't accepted…but he hadn't refused either.

She shivered as she imagined those hands around her. Big, rough, strong hands of a killer. She shook her head, trying to banish the words Joffrey had spoken to her about the man's past.

"Does my lady mind of I join her?"

Sansa jumped and spun only to find Joffrey standing smiling at her that secret smile. "I apologize; I didn't mean to startle you." He said, amused by her reaction.

"I, I apologize, I was lost in thought."

Joffrey nodded and offered his arm to her, "shall we?"

Sansa smiled at him, her perfect prince, here to chase all her horrid doubts and thoughts away. She took his arm and let him lead her through the gardens.

As always, Sansa let Joffrey speak. He always had so much to tell her, he spoke of his family, of how he would one day inherit all their fortune and own a great land. She smiled, imagining being the lady of such a grand place, having servants, watching her golden haired children run through the gardens, laughing and calling to her and her husband.

She didn't even realize they had stopped walking until Joffrey suddenly called out to someone – so lost she was in her fantasies. She felt her heart quicken but resisted the urge to sigh in relief when she saw it was not Mr Clegane he had called to.

Instead her eyes found Arya; hair falling out in messy tendrils from where Sansa had secured it in a simple bun atop her head earlier that morning. Her dress which was a soft grey had a hem covered in muck and the fabric ripped here and there where Arya must have stood on it or snagged it on some branches.

Beside her, standing with his head bowed to Joffrey stood a tall servant boy. He looked older than Sansa, his skin a sun kissed brown. His hair was thick and black as night, when he glanced up at them she saw brilliant blue eyes. He wore simple servant clothes, slightly stained and she could see the muscles of his arms beneath the fabric. She remembered he was a servant of the Baratheons. He worked in the stables and he often came to functions with the family to tend their horses throughout and have them ready for their departure. Today it seemed was no exception.

"Gendry. What have you been told about speaking to people?" Sansa was surprised by the harshness of Joffrey's voice and he unlinked their arms and stormed closer to them.

Gendry paled and he instinctively took a step away from Arya.

"Apologies, sir. I meant no harm."

Joffrey stopped before him and looked up at Gendry with a strange expression.

"I don't believe that was the answer to the question I asked."

"Joffrey, it's alright, really – Arya is friends with him." Sansa said, feeling uneasy with Joffrey's sudden change of temper.

"Yeah, I can talk to him if I want!" Arya butted in – stubborn and ready to argue as usual. Her dislike of Joffrey didn't help either.

Joffrey's eyes snapped to her, piercing and angry.

"Is that any way to speak to me?" he snapped and Sansa's eyes widened in surprise.

"Why should a highborn be interested in speaking to a dirty stable boy anyway?" Joffrey continues, his gaze moving back to Gendry who still stood with his head bent respectfully.

"What's that supposed to mean? Just because he isn't highborn like us doesn't mean I can't be friends with him!"

Sansa didn't miss the small smile that stole across Gendry's face at Arya's words.

Joffrey seemed stunned into silence for a moment. "He's a bastard. You love him, is that it? Oh it is! Would you like to bear his filthy bastards?"

Sansa was shocked at his crude words, shocked at the sudden change in her always charming prince. But his words had stung something in Arya. And Arya had always been a spirited one, acting before thinking of her consequences. So it was only after her hand connected with Joffrey's cheek did Sansa see a glimmer of regret in her Stark grey eyes.

Joffrey clutched his cheek and glared down at Arya, shock etched into his face which quickly changed to rage.

"How dare you!" he shouted and lunged for her.

"Joffrey! Leave her alone! Joffrey!" Sansa's hands clawed at the back of his coat and Joffrey turned, his hand flashing out and Sansa felt a blinding pain across her left cheek and she stumbled and hit the ground.

Sansa could not say what happened for sure, but when she turned, cradling her burning cheek in her hand, Mr Clegane stood with his back to her, in between her and a seething Joffrey.

"Your mother wishes to see you, sir" she heard him rasp.

"But -"

"I believe it's quite urgent" Clegane interrupted, his tone made it clear arguing was not wise.

Joffrey was silent for a while, then glaring at Gendry then Arya then Sansa. Then he straightened his coat and walked away into the Tyrell house.

"You, boy, go back to the horses. You're a buggering fool for this" he said to Gendry next. Gendry looked at Arya and seemed to want to say something, but instead ducked his head and headed around the other side of the house.

Only when he had disappeared from sight did Clegane turn to her.

"Are you alright?" his voice was surprisingly soft and Sansa blinked as he knelt down, holding out a hand to her. She took it wordlessly and he pulled her easily to her feet with hands that held her gently.

"You're lucky he didn't draw blood. This time at least."

Sansa frowned. This man was giving her sympathy by telling her she was lucky?

He turned to Arya who stood in shock, "did he hurt you?" she shook her head and moved to Sansa's side.

"Come along, I'll escort you back."

Sansa wanted to refuse. She wanted to pull Arya away from that horrid man and back to their parents. She wanted to be home and forget this horrid day ever happened.

But instead she let Arya tug her along, following Sandor Clegane.

V

Later that night, when the world was asleep, the two Stark daughters huddled together under the covers of Sansa's bed. The room was illuminated by the soft glow of a single candle that Arya had brought with her when she had crept into her older sister's room.

The sisters lay facing each other and Arya played with a long, silky strand of auburn hair.

"Does your cheek hurt?" Arya asked quietly.

Sansa touched cool fingertips gingerly to her cheek. The redness had disappeared by now but when they had re-entered the room her mother and father's alarm at the sight of her slightly swollen, red cheek had alarmed them greatly. Arya had been ready to point blame at Joffrey but Sansa had interrupted, jokingly excusing it as accidentally getting hit by a branch as she played with Arya in the gardens. The rest of the room had swallowed the lie and Mrs Tyrell had given her a cloth damp with cold water to ease the pain. But Sansa felt the eyes of her family on her, they knew when she lied. The skin was still tender and stung when she smiled.

"No, not anymore." She whispered.

"I hate that stupid Joffrey for what he did."

Sansa wanted to defend him - wanted to cling to the belief that her golden haired prince had struck her by accident, that he was very sorry for it and would never do it again.

But the feeling of his cold hands as they gripped her arm just as the party ended and the guests made to leave and the hiss of his voice in her ear, threatening her never to speak of what had happened or he would hurt her again burned though her mind.

"We should have told father. Or even Robb, he would have sorted that little prick right out."

"Arya don't speak like that!" Sansa hissed, trying to be quiet, "and we will not tell anyone, I mean it Arya you must say nothing. It will only get worse if you do. Promise me!"

"Alright, alright, I promise!"

They were silent for a while. Arya shuffled slightly and started braiding the strand of Sansa's hair.

"Gendry said Joffrey likes to hurt people."

"What?" Sansa wasn't sure she wanted to hear what Arya was going to say. She wanted to shy away from the truth if that was it.

"I talk to him often. He's a good friend and he wouldn't lie to me. He says Joffrey is horrible to the servants. And he likes to beat them. The young girls especially. That's why I don't want you marrying him. I hate him."

"Stop it Arya. That can't be true. Joffrey is good. He is always so charming and kind to me. Gendry may be exaggerating it; servants begrudge their master often for things like that-"

"-he wouldn't. Gendry wouldn't lie to me."

Sansa frowned and rolled onto her side. Her back now to her sister who let go of her hair.

Sansa could feel the truth in her words. But she didn't want to believe it. She couldn't believe it. All the time she had spent with Joffrey he had been charming and kind and gentle. Everything she could ever have wanted.

And yet…she remembered that look in his eyes when he told her of Mr Clegane's past. She hadn't understood it now but thinking back it had almost looked like excitement. Perhaps he kept company with him so much because he admired him. And he had changed completely when he saw Gendry. He had lunged at Arya. Even Sansa knew any good man would never dream of hurting a lady – especially a high born. She remembered the dark purple marks on Arya's arm when she had shown Sansa earlier, away from the eyes of their family. Dark marks of Joffrey's fingers where he had grabbed her.

Sansa sighed and rolled back over to face her little sister, pulling her close and hugging her small, scrawny form. As tough as Arya was, Sansa still saw her as her little sister. She wanted to protect her and she hated Joffrey for hurting her.

"I never thought I would say this, but I hadn't been so happy to see Clegane in all the time we have known him as I was today." Arya said quietly, her face nuzzled into Sansa's shoulder.

Sansa stiffened. She couldn't understand that man.

"What are you thinking?" Arya whispered when Sansa made no reply.

"It just doesn't fit."

Arya pulled away to look up at her sister, "what?"

"I don't understand how a man like Mr Clegane, with his dreadful past and personality, would help us like he did today."

Arya frowned, "I've been thinking, since you told me what Joffrey told you about him. I think he might be lying."

"What do you mean?"

Arya pulled away and sat up, pulling the covers down. Sansa sat up beside her sister, breathing in the cold wave of air that caressed her face after the warmth under the covers.

"Well, if a man has such a terrible past – why on earth would Cersei let him be around his precious children? And surely Robert wouldn't want such a man anywhere near him? And in all the time you have met him, have you ever seen him lose his temper like his reputation tells? Ever seen him speak a harsh word to anyone?"

"That night at the Baratheon ball he-"

"- helped you find me and let you go. If he was really as bad as Joffrey says he could have done much worse to you."

Sansa looked away into the shadows of the room and thought about Arya's words. It was strange that what she said seemed to make more sense than anything else.

"Well what about his scars? Surely they are proof?"

Arya rolled her eyes, "stop trying to deny it – he could have gotten those scars any other way. I don't think the man is an angel – but I don't think he is as bad as Joffrey says. I think Joffrey was just saying that to amuse himself. That seems more likely."

Sansa said nothing, her thoughts racing. She didn't know what to believe anymore. But she knew Joffrey was not the person she thought he was. The dull throb of her cheek was proof of that and the cold grip of his hand as he hissed threats in her ear.

Arya sighed and lay back down, closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

But Sansa remained sitting lost in her thoughts, only succumbing to sleep when her eyes slipped closed heavily and the candle burned out beside her.

V