Yeah, Sandor was a bit of a creeper in the last chapter…and the beginning of this one. But, that's how he is in the book, always watching and following Sansa. I always found his fixation on her creepy…

One last chapter before the new year!

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Chapter 108

Sandor pulled at the leathers he wore – cursing the heat of the Free Cities. It was far too warm for the clothing favored in Westeros. He had never felt such heat – not even on the hottest summer day in the South. His clothes were practically sticking to his skin. He almost missed the cold they had left behind in Westeros. He hated boats and he hated travel. Yet, here he was, having sailed for nearly a month with Ser Addam Marbrand and five hundred red cloaks. All to bring Jaime Lannister and Sansa Stark back from Lys.

Why did I agree to endure this voyage for the Imp? He should have fetched his brother, his own damned self. Sandor had meant to leave the Red Keep – and the Imp's employment – half a hundred time over the past three years. But something had always stopped him. Then, over the years, he had grown comfortable and stopped feeling the urge to leave. He was content in the Red Keep now that he was no longer asked to commit atrocities at the whim of an evil monarch.

The Dragon Queen scarce took notice of him, and it seemed that she did not inherit her father's fondness for burning people or ripping out tongues. Instead, she spent her time reading stories with Stannis Baratheon's daughter – her little ward - or locked away with Ser Jorah Mormont. Fucking him, no doubt, though they were secretive about the true nature of their relationship. It had been a peaceful winter. More peaceful than any time Sandor had spent serving the Lannisters.

Tyrion expected very little of him – his only job being to protect the Imp from his lady wife. Though, it seemed he was most vulnerable to Margaery Tyrell in the bedchamber – and Sandor certainly wasn't protecting him there. He had observed the pretty little Rose carefully over the past few years. She had the beauty and cunning of Cersei but Sandor could not detect the same cruelty in her. That will prevent her from ever truly being a threat to the Imp. He had learned enough in his time serving the Lannisters to know that it took ruthlessness and cruelty to win the game of thrones. Beyond her desire to be Queen – to hold that power - Lady Margaery was nothing like Cersei nor Tywin Lannister.

Even Sandor could see that the Rose cared for her daughter. Tyrion had asked him to look after the babe as well, though there was no need. The child was in no danger from her mother or anyone else in the Red Keep. Sandor had been surprised that little Tabytha didn't fear him the way most children did. Instead, she sought out his friendship, asking him to read her stories or draw with her. He always refused her, but she never stopped asking. And before he left for the Free Cities, the child had given Sandor a picture she drew for her Uncle Jaime, and asked him to please give it to him. It was a picture of the Kingslayer with Lady Sansa on his arm. Sandor shook his head. This is a fool's errand.

The Imp and the Queen had decreed that Ser Addam Marbrand and three hundred red cloaks from Casterly Rock would accompany Sandor to Lys to retrieve the Kingslayer and Lady Sansa. It had been a miserable voyage, offering him not a whit of pleasure. Yet he had gone. He'd never admit it to anyone, but Sandor was curious to see the little bird after all these years. She was a grown woman now, not a girl. And she had been married to the Kingslayer for many years. That had to have changed her. The Imp had told him that she loved the Kingslayer. That she was happy as his wife, but Sandor did not see how she could be. Not after what the Lannisters did to her family. Not after what Jaime's bastard did to her. Sandor supposed it was the last time he could offer to save her – should she need it.

He, Marbrand and the rest of the red cloaks arrived in Lys after dark. While most of the red cloaks took the opportunity to visit the famed pleasure houses of Lys they had spoken of for the entirety of the journey, Sandor and Ser Addam made straight for the villa that had become the home of Lord and Lady Lannister in their exile. He had been annoyed when the staff informed him that the Lord and Lady were abed and the visitors would have to wait until morning. Marbrand didn't seem to care, but Sandor had no intention of being there any longer than was necessary. While Ser Addam sat in the kitchen, swapping stories with the Lannister men who had been serving the Kingslayer in Lys, Sandor had slipped outside and begun prowling the grounds.

It didn't take him long to spot the little bird and the Kingslayer. Sandor was about to make his presence known when her robe dropped to the ground and she stood there. Naked. She was even more beautiful than he remembered – her skin looked snow white as the moon reflected off of her and it appeared motherhood had only served to enhance her womanly figure. Sandor found that he couldn't look away as the Kingslayer touched her with his one remaining hand and she tilted her head back, sighing with pleasure.

Sandor had only ever seen Sansa scared or in pain. He'd never seen her like this. He'd never seen her in pleasure. He'd never seen a genuine smile on her face…but it was there now as the Lion's mouth traveled over her body. I suppose the Imp was right. She's come to enjoy the company of her Lannister husband. He finally looked away from them when Sansa climbed on top of Jaime and leaned forward to kiss him – her hair falling forward as well – and the scars that marred her back were lit up under the moonlight. Then the desire he'd been feeling was replaced by shame.

I should have stopped them. I should not have been such a coward…to allow that girl to be beaten and humiliated by the bastard king. Her wounds were long healed, but he knew the scars would never fully disappear. Sandor was disgusted with himself as he recalled the many times he'd just stood there – doing nothing but looking at her – while his fellow Kingsguard stripped her and beat her. It's no wonder the girl refused to leave the Red Keep with me. She must have thought I'd do the same – or worse – to her. Many nights since, he'd lain awake, haunted by her screams and cries and the sound of a whip cracking against her skin or the laughs of Ser Meryn Trant as he beat her.

Sandor was distracted from his thoughts as Sansa's moans of pleasure filled the air – as she said the Kinglayer's name over and over again. Sandor fought the urge to look at her again and wondered if the little bird ever would have offered herself to him as she did to the Kingslayer. Perhaps I should not have asked her to come with me. Perhaps I should have simply thrown her over my shoulder and taken her from the Red Keep whether she wished it or not. Sansa's moans grew louder and Sandor couldn't resist watching her peak – however wrong it was – and thought he might be the one taking his pleasure between her legs now if he had only taken her with him.

Sansa's eyes suddenly widened and locked with his own. Sandor groaned inwardly. He had not intended for the little bird to know that he had seen her in such an intimate state. She scrambled for her silken robe on the ground and must have said something he couldn't hear to the Kingslayer. Before he could react, Jaime charged toward him, naked as his nameday. While he didn't expect to be welcomed, he also didn't expect Jaime to punch him with his golden fist, sending Sandor crashing into a table and flying across the room. He shook his head and touched his nose, wincing at the blood on his hand. Sandor glared at the Kingslayer and saw that the force of the punch had pained him as well.

"Jaime!" he heard Sansa cry out as she neared them, taking his arm.

"Didn't you see enough of her body when Joff was having her beaten?" the Kingslayer roared as he gently pushed Sansa away and picked up his sword off a chair with his left hand and advanced on him.

Sandor carefully stood, looking at the Kingslayer with amusement as he stood there naked, challenging him with a sword. Sandor knew that Jaime had lost his sword hand and looked curiously at the golden hand affixed there instead, before turning his gaze back to the sword in his left. It seems he may have learned to use the other hand. Or this is one hell of a bluff. "Is this really a fight you wish to have Kingslayer? Like this?"

The Lion's face hardened in anger, though Sandor couldn't stop his eyes from wandering to Sansa. He could scarce believe that he was seeing her after so many years of thinking about her. He realized his mistake when Jaime swung his sword at him, nearly slashing his face. Sandor pulled his own sword, though the little bird threw herself in front of Jaime before he could do anything with it. She wrapped her arms around the Kingslayer, shouting for them both to lower their swords. Sandor met her eyes and saw her desire to protect Jaime Lannister.

The red cloaks barged into the room and the little bird – her face beet red – wrapped a blanket around Jaime's waist, though it was obvious to everyone what had been interrupted.

Ser Addam followed his men into the Lord and Lady's chamber, his own sword drawn, before his eyes hardened and he turned on Sandor. "I told you it could wait until mor…" the knight trailed off as he took in the present state of the Lord and Lady Lannister. "Hells, man. Sansa, forgive us –"

She meekly murmured her hello before ducking behind Jaime in humiliation. Sandor found that he couldn't look away from her. It had been many years since he'd seen her and she'd grown into a lovely woman. And even more beautiful than when I last saw her. It occurred to Sandor that he'd never seen a woman so beautiful.

"Addam, what is the meaning of this?" the Kingslayer ground out. "What are you doing here? Has something happened?"

"Nothing to worry about. We can speak later, Jaime."

Sandor huffed. "They're awake – why not speak to them now? Do you plan for us to stay in the Free Cities forever? One night should be enough for your men to visit the pleasure houses."

Marbrand rolled his eyes and gripped Sandor's arms pulling him towards the door and nodding for the red cloaks to leave the Lord and Lady's bedchamber. "We'll wait for you in the solar. Forgive me, Jaime. I…take your time…but we do need to speak. Tyrion would not have sent us if it weren't important."

Jaime nodded, clapping Marbrand on the shoulder in a belated greeting, promising to join him in the solar momentarily. Sandor followed him out, though Jaime stepped in front of him, preventing his exit. "I should gouge your eyes out for looking at her like that," the lion snarled.

Sansa appeared at his side, resting her hand on her Kingslayer's shoulder. "Jaime…" He looked down at her and his expression softened before he shoved Sandor into the hallway and slammed the door in his face.

…

"Tyrion has obtained a full pardon for you – both of you – and Tommen as well, from the Queen. Here it is, written in the Queen's hand with her seal. It has been made known throughout the Realm that you are no longer wanted for treason. It is known that you are both free to return to Westeros, as Lord and Lady of the Rock, whenever you choose."

Jaime only half-heard Ser Addam, as his fury at the Hound was distracting him. He continued glaring at the Hound as Ser Addam set forth the terms of their return to Westeros. I should have killed him. Sansa had made him promise not to fight with the Hound again. But seeing him there – in their home - and knowing how the man had stood by and watched as Sansa was beaten and tormented by Joffrey and his guards made his blood boil. It didn't help that the Hound's eyes kept wandering to Sansa and for the first time, Jaime had the urge to cover her as she sat wearing one of the revealing gowns favored in Lys.

He forced himself to listen to his friend, not quite believing that the Queen would permit him to retain the title of Lord of Casterly Rock. This is all Tyrion's doing. She would never allow us to have the Rock unless Tyrion refused to take the lordship for himself. I owe my brother everything. He and Sansa would never have had the chance to return to Westeros if it weren't for his brother. He and Sansa might be dead if it were not for him. Still, Jaime wondered if he could trust the Queen. She'd already proven herself capable of deceit to get what she wanted. She could be deceiving Tyrion as well.

"And why is he here?" Jaime asked with a raised eyebrow, gesturing toward the Hound.

Addam seemed startled by the hostility in his tone. "Tyrion –"

"I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here, Kingslayer. Your brother insisted I help deliver those letters." Jaime could not fathom why his brother would employ Sandor Clegane of all people as his personal guard, but it seemed he had done it. And he sent him here to me.

"The Imp argued with that dragon bitch for nearly three hours to get these terms for you – so you could return to Lannisport with your lady wife. It seems he wants you back at the Rock."

Jaime turned, distracted by a movement he saw in the corner of his eye. Gerion must have woken up and wandered toward the sound of their voices. His son was hovering in the doorway uncertainly, looking between him and Sansa for guidance. She noticed Gerion as well and beckoned him over to join her on the sofa. He eagerly ran to sit beside her, looking at the strangers in the room carefully.

"The Imp said you had your own flock of little birds," he heard Sandor remark to Sansa, and Jaime could almost feel the fingers of his missing right hand tighten into a fist.

Gerion stood and stepped in front of his mother, protectively. "We're lions of House Lannister not birds," he said, his expression deadly serious. It amused Jaime to see the aggression in his son's stance – showing he was just as suspicious of the Hound as he was.

"I see the boy takes after his grandfather," the Hound remarked dryly as Ser Addam stifled a chuckle.

Sansa caught Jaime's eye, a smile playing at her lips as she scooped Gerion up onto her lap. There was no question as to which grandfather the Hound was referring. Jaime had never seen his son more like Tywin Lannister. Jaime nodded for Ser Addam to continue, watching his son with pride. Gerion sat, his hands resting on top of Sansa's as he listened intently to the adult conversation going on. Never mind that he was only three, his feet bare and his hair mussed from sleep, wearing his sleep clothes and sitting on his mother's lap. The boy was every inch the future Lord of the Rock.

"Are we going home, Papa?" he asked, eagerly. Sansa gently shushed him, speaking quietly in his ear. Whatever she said was effective, for he simply leaned back against her chest and listened in silence.

Jaime sat beside her, patting the boy's knee affectionately, as Addam continued to go over the terms of their return – as well as the various safeguards Tyrion had negotiated, to ensure that the Queen was not luring them into a trap. The Hound did not speak another word, merely scowling from the corner as he watched Sansa. Jaime was about to throw the man out when Sansa gently rested her hand on his – no doubt sensing his anger. He smiled and raised her hand to his mouth.

"So that's it," Ser Addam said, handing Jaime a pile of parchments. "The Queen's written offer, as well as letters from Tyrion and Ser Kevan. He and Lady Genna have done an admirable job managing the Rock in your absence."

For the first time in his life, Jaime didn't know what to say. He looked at Sansa and saw that she was fearful of his accepting. "It's very late," Jaime said, smiling as he saw that Gerion had grown tired of listening to them and snuggled against Sansa, sleeping peacefully with his head tucked beneath her chin. "Sansa and I will look these over and…make our decision in the morning."

"Of course," Addam said. "I do hope you will return. The Rock hasn't been the same without you. Either of you," he said, smiling at Sansa. He retrieved another parchment which he handed to Sansa. "Lady Genna asked me to give you this…it's…songs that have become rather popular in Westeros since your departure." Jaime raised his eyebrow in question and Addam merely shook his head.

Jaime turned his head and regarded the Hound again, about to tell him – again – to stop looking at his wife, but the sight of his son fast asleep in her arms stopped him. "We should get the little one back to bed." Sansa nodded, allowing Jaime to lift Gerion into his arms. He woke for a moment, grumbling, before he closed his eyes again and rested his head on Jaime's shoulder. He offered his free arm to Sansa, having no intention of leaving her with Sandor Clegane. She smiled knowingly as she leaned against him, walking down the hall with him.

After putting Gerion into bed, Jaime returned to his own chamber, and saw that Sansa had righted the table that had crashed to the floor when he punched the Hound. He sat on the bed and sighed deeply. He heard Sansa moving around in the bathing room and looked up to watch her walk over and join him. She'd changed into a flowing white sleeping gown and looked like a goddess.

"Gerion didn't wake up, did he?"

Jaime shook his head, pulling her onto his lap. "I should have killed that bastard for watching us fuck."

He saw her face heat in embarrassment at the memory as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Jaime…Let's try to forget it even happened." Her discomfort was just another reason why he wanted to kill the Hound. Jaime had not forgotten that Joffrey's dog had wanted to take Sansa with him from the Red Keep during the Battle of Blackwater. Now that he saw the way Clegane looked at her, Jaime had little doubt that his intentions had been less than honorable. There was no mistaking the desire in his gaze. He wants her for himself. "What are we going to do, Jaime? About returning to Westeros?"

Jaime sighed, holding her tighter. "What do you wish to do, sweet girl?"

"As happy as we've been here…I'd be lying if I said that I didn't wish to go home. To be able to see Winterfell again and…my mother and Arya. And the Rock is where the children belong. It's where they should grow up. But…Jaime I would not risk your life for anything. I would rather stay here forever than take even the smallest risk of losing you. I still remember how I felt when the Unsullied dragged you away from me and took you to the dungeons. I thought I'd lost you forever." Her voice broke and Jaime kissed her temple. "I won't allow anyone to take you from me."

"You know I don't want that either. It's most important that our family is together." He'd not forgotten what it was like when the Queen had sentenced him to death and given Sansa to Littlefinger. I'd give up everything – the Rock included – to stay by Sansa's side. "But, Tyrion has seen to it that the entire Realm knows that we've been pardoned by the Queen and invited to return. He's made it impossible for her to go back on her word and harm us without the entire Realm rising up against her."

He saw that she was still fearful. And no wonder, given all that happened to her in Westeros compared to how peaceful the past three years have been. "But we're happy here, Jaime. The children are happy."

"They are. Right now. But what about when they grow up? They're already asking about Westeros and Casterly Rock. They see that we consider that to be home. What would become of them if they lived here forever? Gerion couldn't be Lord of the Rock. Rickard couldn't be a knight here. There's no such thing. And our girl has her heart set on being lady of a fine Castle. She couldn't have that in the Free Cities."

"I know." She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "But…Tommen would have to marry a girl he's never met and…I remember when my betrothal was ordered by the person sitting on the Iron Throne. He should have some choice in who he marries and…he's still so young." Jaime suspected that the required betrothal would bother Sansa more than anything else. She was as protective of Tommen as she was of her own babes and Jaime knew she'd never agree to anything that would make the boy unhappy.

"We'll speak to Tommen in the morning, all right? This affects him as much as us and…then we'll decide."

Jaime kissed the top of Sansa's head and rubbed his hand over her back. She nodded, accepting that they would have the night to think it over. If I could only be certain that we'll be safe, it would make the decision much easier. If only we knew for certain that this wasn't a trick.

…

Next chapter: Jaime & Sansa make a decision