Sansa
Sansa was almost shaking in excitement when she walked down to breakfast.
Today was a very special day.
It was Sandor's birthday.
She grinned and suppressed a laugh that threatened to bubble up out of her when she paused before the door to the dining hall. Composing herself, smoothing her hands over her dress – the deep blue one Sandor had given her the day she left Tyrion's house to begin her new life with her husband. Her wonderful, wonderful new life.
She took a deep breath then pushed the door open and stepped into the room.
Sandor sat in his usual seat at the table, eating slowly but smiling at her when their eyes met. She smiled back and took her seat beside him, across from Babs who she had to quickly look away from as a grin threatened to take over her mouth. She had been planning with Babs and Shay for so long; working out every detail of the day, running it over with them, asking their opinions, making sure nothing could go wrong. Babs had smiled and winked at her as soon as her eyes flitted back up to her and Sansa had to cough into her napkin as Sandor poured her some tea.
When Joseth – Sandor's head servant – walked into the room with the tray holding letters for the master, Sansa nearly screamed from excitement, the anticipation was killing her already.
Sandor glanced at her empty plate questioningly – there was no way she could eat with so many butterflies in her stomach – but then the tray was placed in front of him with the single letter upon it addressed to "My Darling Husband".
Sansa grinned when Sandor looked between her and the letter, looking like she had just presented him a pile of mud. He picked the letter up and turned it over in his hands, not opening it, just looking.
"What's this?" he asked, looking over to her.
Sansa cast a meaningful look over to Babs then back to him, noticing his eyes following hers, "Open it," she said simply.
He raised an eyebrow at her and looked at her with his head cocked, but then he turned the letter over and broke the plain seal, unfolding it and read.
Sansa bit her lip as she watched his eyes flit over the words, his eyebrows rising and his mouth falling open. He looked to her and Sansa saw the excitement of a young boy reflected in his face.
"A treasure hunt."
She nodded, the laugh that had been bubbling in her chest all morning bursting out of her and clapped her hands gleefully, "Happy birthday, Sandor!" she exclaimed, getting out of her seat, moving behind him and throwing her arms around his neck.
She felt his shoulders move as he laughed and a hand came to close around hers at his neck, entwining her fingers with his.
Babs chuckled and leaned forwards, "the little Doe has been planning this for weeks, and ever since I let it slip the date of your birth and that you and Hadass would have a treasure hunt on her birthdays."
She saw Sandor's cheek rise as he smiled over to his grandmother and Sansa released him, standing straight, hands on her hips, "that's right, we have put a lot of planning into this – Babs and I worked very hard. So go get dressed for the cold weather and meet me at the front door in a half hour!"
He looked at her, that look she loved in his face. He rose, smiling, still holding the treasure map in his hands – with the first of three riddles Sansa had poured over many books in coming up with and bowed low to her, "as the lady of the house commands" he rasped. She giggled and he left.
Oh this was going to be fun.
V
Sandor
Less than a half hour later, the couple were walking hand in hand around the manor's gardens, pouring over the map as they searched for the first clue.
"So what is the prize on this treasure hunt?" he asked her as she squeezed her fingers in his and grinned up at him, cheeks and nose pink from the cold, almost winter air.
"Your present from me."
He was surprised, even now that she had taken the time and effort to get him something. He couldn't think what it was, the little bird surprised him every day and he knew she would be no different today.
He looked down at the map, reading the first clue. Sansa had sketched out a basic drawing of the house, grounds and beach. A red X marked the front door and black dotted lines led through the gardens and looped around to the kennels where another red X was inked. They walked along the route, referring to the map every now and then. When they arrived, a red thread was tied to the handle, disappearing into the kennels. Sandor let go of Sansa's hand reluctantly to push the door open. He captured the thread between two fingers and followed it past the cages, the string sliding through his fingers – they were all empty due to the dogs being allowed to run about in the yard – the cages only used for them to sleep in at night. He followed it until it stopped, tied to the cage door of his best dog. Tied to it was a small roll of paper – the next clue.
He handed the map to Sansa who was grinning like and idiot beside him – obviously very proud of herself - as he untied the string and unrolled the paper, in neat handwriting was written:
Kneel beneath leaves of blood
And speak a prayer to me.
Give me a single, white rose bud,
And a sign will come to thee.
He bloody hated riddles.
He muttered so out loud causing Sansa to laugh out loud, "I'll help you, I wrote it so it isn't too difficult! Take it one line at a time; 'kneel beneath leaves of blood' "
That was obvious; "The Godswood Tree." Hadass' grave.
She smiled gently and nodded, "let's go," she pulled him by his hand out of the Kennels and around the yard to the back of the house. They walked along the edge of the gardens – where the grass met sand until eventually they came to the tall, white wood and red leaved tree. The sun filtered through the leaves, casting red shadows on the ground and on the pure white gravestone with her name carved into it.
Sansa pulled the skirts of her dress up a little and knelt on the ground beside him neatly, then clasped her hands together, bending her head and pressing her lips against her fingers.
"Pray for her with me, Sandor," she said softly, eyes still closed, head still bent.
Kneel beneath leaves of blood
And speak a prayer to me.
He shuffled from foot to foot uncomfortably, "You know I don't believe in your God."
He couldn't see it from where he stood but he knew she was smiling, "then just kneel with me and talk to her."
He stayed still for a moment, watching the shadows of the leaves move over her, then he knelt down. He didn't clasp his hands together, he rested them on his knees instead, bending his head and closing his eyes.
Hadass. If you can hear me, thank you for Sansa. Only you would be good enough to let me have someone as perfect as her in my life. So thank you.
He opened his eyes and waited for Sansa to finish her prayer. When she had she remained kneeling, turning her head to smile at him then handed him a white rose he didn't notice she had been holding.
"Give me a single, white rose, and a sign will come to thee," she quoted, her voice soft like her song.
White roses had been Hadass' favorite flower; she held one in her painting.
He took it from Sansa and turned back to Hadass, leaning over and went to sit it at the base of her gravestone but stopped when he noticed the small roll of paper sitting there. He placed the rose down and picked up the paper, standing as he unrolled it.
Sansa stood too, leaning on his arm as he read out loud:
"I sit upon golden grains,
Where a little bird was free.
A hound broke all of her chains,
And showed her the sparkling sea"
"That one isn't very well written," Sansa excused, blushing, "it's too obvious."
He chuckled and rolled the paper back up, "the beach?"
She nodded and slipped her hand in his, turning to walk down the sand dunes. He felt her hand squeeze his every now and then as they walked, losing her balance and footing a few times but she didn't fall.
When they reached the sand the waves were crashing on the shore in the windy, cold weather. He walked, eyes scouring the ground far and wide until he saw it; a cross made from two sticks with red thread wound around them sitting on the sand.
I sit upon golden grains.
He knelt down and moved the sticks aside, brushing and digging at the cold grains until his hand met a velvet red fabric. He pulled out the pouch and straightened, brushing off the excess sand before opening the drawstrings. Inside was another roll of paper.
"The last clue," Sansa said, hair flying around her grinning face.
He felt a pang of sadness that the treasure hunt was over after this one.
He looked up over the crashing waves hissing and spraying behind them.
Where a little bird was set free.
He remembered her standing in the water, shouting at how cold it was, laughing gleefully and just having fun. Not rules to follow, no convention to meet, Just Sansa letting herself be free.
A hound broke all of her chains.
And showed her the sparkling sea.
All he had done was that; take her away from her cage to the sea where she could fly. He turned back to her; she was smiling up at him, eyes wandering over his face – scars and all - like they always did. Not for the first time, he had the sudden impulse to kiss her. He wanted to take her small form in his arms and press his lips to hers, hold her and thank her just for being her. She had no idea how much light she had brought to his life.
She nudged him out of his thoughts, "open it!"
He smiled and did as she bid.
"Find a bird as red as sunset,
With autumn in her wings.
Thread tells a story you won't forget,
In the simple gift she brings."
He frowned, looking to her completely lost.
The little bird just stood, hands behind her back and grinning up at him mischievously, strands of red hair flying across that face.
The little bird. Red hair.
Find a bird as red as sunset
With autumn in her wings.
She grinned, seeing him work it all out and brought her arms out from behind her back, holding a small, green box out to him with a red thread tied around it.
He stared at it in awe, he couldn't remember the last time he had received a gift.
He took it from her, untying the thread and opened the lid.
Inside, nestled amongst red velvet, was a yellow, silk handkerchief.
He pulled it out, stuffing the box into his pocket and held the soft, soft fabric in both his hands.
The yellow was his house color, soft and silky. But what he stared at in complete wonder was the perfect needlework. A border of silver branches with red leaves ran along the hem of the handkerchief. In the middle was a black, running dog, a blue – the same blue as her dress – bird soared above the dog's head. His fingers traced the neat, perfect stitches, He could see that she had put a lot of time and effort into this.
He hadn't realized he was silent for a time until She spoke, her voice quiet and hurried, "it's not much, I know. I wasn't sure if you'd like it. I could make another one. Or if you'd rather something completely different I cou-"
His arms crushed her tiny body to his chest, holding her so close as if she might fade away. After a moment her arms came around him, holding as tight as she could.
"it's perfect," he breathed into her hair, feeling her shiver.
She pulled away to look into his eyes, "truly? You like it?"
He smiled and traced her cheek with his thumb, "I love it," he said, her face braking into a picture of happiness at his words, "everything is perfect, you going to all this effort for me i…thank you, Sansa."
She smiled at him, leaning into his touch, his thumb still stroking her cheek.
He realized then how close she was to him; his arms still held her flush against him, her face but inches from his own. The night at the Inn flashed back into his mind and he stiffened, ready to pull away but…he couldn't.
He was lost in those blue depths of her eyes, sparkling like the ocean.
He completely forgot about the cold bite of the winter air, the crashing of the waves, the wind that whipped their hair around their heads.
He forgot about everything but her, and her lips that pressed timidly against his own.
He gave up fighting at that moment, and his hand moved to the back of her neck, pressing his lips back against hers.
She sighed into his mouth and her arms here tangled around his neck. She was soft and warm and everything he needed. Her movements were timid and his hands held her tight.
When he pulled away for air, he pressed his forehead against hers and she grinned, a small breathy laugh escaping her.
"Happy birthday, darling husband."
He grinned at her, holding her close with the handkerchief held tight in his hand.
V
Sansa
That night they ate Sandor's favorite meal that Babs had specially had made for him, and then retired to the drawing room where Sansa brought lemon cakes she had secretly baked the previous day.
Babs gave Sandor her present; a collection of some favorite books she had bought from town, a bottle of fine, expensive wine and a small, velvet pouch that she murmured into his ear about, he had looked surprised at her words but had tucked it safely into his breast pocket and thanked her sincerely.
Sansa sat close to him all the while, her hand entwined in his whenever possible.
Since the kiss at the beach, Sansa didn't think it was possible for her to be as happy as she was. Her husband's warm body next to hers as they sat on the couch, listening to Babs reading her book to them was bliss. Every so often he would turn and press a kiss to her hand or temple.
Soon Babs asked her to sing again, she played and sang
"My feather bed is deep and soft,
And there I'll lay you down.
I'll dress you all in yellow silk
And on your head a crown
For you shall be my lady love
And I shall be your lord
I'll always keep you warm and safe
And guard you with my sword."
She smiled, feeling the gaze of Sandor on her as she pressed each key and sang each note.
"And how she smiled and how she laughed
The maiden of the tree
She spun away and said to him
No feather bed for me
Ill wear a gown of golden leaves
And bind my hair with grass
But you can be my forest love
And me you forest lass."
When the night was late and Babs stood, yawning to retire to her room, Sansa and Sandor went with her. She shuffled sleepily in front of them as they walked hand in hand, eyeing her carefully, worried she would topple over asleep on the stairs.
They delivered her to her room and stood outside Sansa's.
No words were exchanged; they had said it all already.
His thumb caressed her cheek tenderly and his grey eyes bore into her blue depths.
His kiss was soft and sweet but still made Sansa tremble.
When she was on the other side of her door, listening to him move to his own room she grinned until she cheeks hurt, undressing and climbing into the large bed.
She snuggled under the covers, reflecting on the day and slept with a smile on her face.
V
Please excuse my awful, awful riddle writing. I had to make them up and I take Sandor's view in saying I. hate. Riddles. Especially having to write them. But it was all for a good cause.
Vee