A Honeymoon and Wedding

Sandor stares agape at her, startled by her sudden daring behavior. Sansa smiles, pretending not to notice as she begins lathering his body with her hands. Turning the burned side of his face away from her self-consciously, Sandor notices his wife unabashedly holds his gaze as she bathes him, warming his heart with the love he sees shining in her eyes. Unwilling to disturb her, he remains perfectly still while taking in her soft curves as she tenderly washes him.

While rinsing his long hair, her expression turns unexpectedly solemn. Despite the enjoyment of being bathed by his new wife, Sandor stills her hands, regarding her changed demeanor closely. "Little bird, what is it?"

Shrugging, she averts her eyes. "I was only thinking-I was thinking this is what I should have done that night," she whispers softly. "You were so terribly bloody, even more so than you were moments ago." Pausing, she shakes her head as though trying to clear the image of her words from her mind. "You smelled of wildfire and smoke and wine-and worse. I should have cared for you, bathed your wounds. I could have at least given you comfort and the song you wanted for all that you did for me. I was such a child then."

Her words strike him like a heavy blow to the chest. Pulling her into his arms, he growls next to her ear, "I was very drunk. Might have hurt you, even. I meant to take more than a song, you know."

"I know, Sandor. I've known for quite some time. In King's Landing, you only knew two things that relieved your misery-wine and women. You already had drowned in wine and yet still you were afraid. So you came to me, thinking if you took me body and soul, it might ease your suffering."

"Damn it, that's no excuse for such thoughts, Sansa. You didn't deserve the way I treated you. I saw the fear in your eyes. I see it still," he shudders, haunted by the memory.

"I didn't say I wasn't afraid or that you weren't wrong, Sandor. What I meant to say is: you cannot punish yourself for your thoughts, my love. I wanted to kill Joffrey and many times regretted I missed my opportunity. You know, in the Eyrie I daydreamed about that night, imagining you had taken a kiss too…" her voice drifts off, lost in thought.

"I wished you had, you know. Over the years I managed to convince myself you did. I often wished you had taken more than a kiss, too-sometimes I dreamed it."

"No, you don't Sansa, believe that!" Sandor growls at her, forcing her chin up to meet his gaze. "Bloody hells, woman, how can you say that? I-"

"Sandor, I needed to remember what it was to experience any emotion other than fear. I was numb so often, scared so often, sad and lonely. I missed having someone to talk to that wasn't after my claim, someone who didn't want to hear the little bird chirp."

Taking his face in her hands, Sansa looks into his keen gray eyes. "I thought of you, always. I even dreamed of leaping off the balcony just so that I could see you in the afterlife, so I could be with my family again," she murmurs, unaware of the tears falling from her eyes. "I know, Sandor-I know what it is to need to feel something, anything, other than fear. I would be the last person to hold your thoughts against you, no matter what they may have been back then. "

"My beloved wife," he whispers, burying his face in her hair. "Gods forgive me, I never should have left you there."

Burying her face in his neck, Sansa replies, "Let us speak of it no more, my love. It matters not now. This day we are husband and wife. I love you with all my heart and I will be forever grateful he gods saw fit to bring us together. We will never be apart again Sandor, promise me…I could not bear it."

"We'll never be apart Little bird, I swear it," Sandor responds, nuzzling her neck, breathing in the lavender scent of her hair. "If anything happens that you don't like, I'll take you away from here, just say the word."

Sansa removes her shift and stands in front of him in only her smallclothes, blushing deeply under his heated gaze before taking him by the hand. "Come my love, it is our wedded night. I wish to love you, to give you the song you wanted."

Swallowing hard, Sandor eagerly takes her into his arms and lifts her on the bed. Suddenly nervous, his hands tremble as he swiftly removes her smallclothes. Tracing his fingers over her supple skin, he drinks in the sight of his beautiful little bird lying before him as naked as her name day. "Are you certain Sansa?" Sandor questions hoarsely as he kisses down her neck heatedly, hardly daring to believe everything he has ever dreamed of and wanted is now at last within his grasp.

"Yes, Sandor, oh yes my love," she manages, the soft feeling of his warm lips against her skin revealing intense pleasure. His gentle lovemaking engulfs her senses and soon she responds by wrapping her legs around his waist eagerly. Tenderly stroking his chest and back, Sansa kisses along his jaw line and neck with heated abandon while his hands freely roam her body. Having craved such intimate pleasures with Sandor for so long, Sansa yearns to caress and taste her new husband in all the ways her friend Randa used to describe to her. When she moves down his chest to his waist Sandor gently rebuffs her, knowing the feel of her hands and mouth on his body will be his undoing.

Leisurely Sandor tastes and caresses every inch of her, languidly exploring each curve and swell of his wife's body. Trembling, Sansa finds her pleasure under his hands and tongue and finally the Little bird sings the song Sandor has longed to hear, moaning and crying out his name with abandon.

His lips curl into a small smile as he dips his tongue inside of her, knowing he will forever be the only one to hear her sing it, that it is for him and him alone. Sansa's obvious enjoyment gives the scarred man a deep sense of pride at the pleasure he is able to bring his beloved wife. Covering her body with his own, the feeling of her soft warm skin sliding against him strains his self-control. Sandor allows his teeth to gently graze the delicate flesh of her neck before Gasping, Sandor thrusting deep inside of her, joining them as one in body as well as heart.

Moaning, Sansa tightly holds on to him, gritting her teeth from the pain while Sandor stills his movements and whispers words of comfort in her ear. Gently he begins moving between her legs, waiting until she is ready for more before increasing his thrusts. Completely filled with his manhood, Sansa's pain soon gives way to pleasure. She surprises him by grasping his hips and using her legs to pull him even deeper inside, calling out his name and entreating the gods by turns.

Encouraged by her sighs of pleasure he quickens his movements, keeping his rhythm slow and steady until he feels her inner walls squeezing him so tightly Sandor is blinded with pleasure. Writhing beneath him, suddenly Sansa experiences a powerfully intense release and Sandor quickly follows, taking the couple by surprise.

"Sansa, oh gods woman," he groans into her hair, panting as he collapses on top of her.

Smiling up at him, Sansa giggles softly while kissing along his jaw line. "That was beautiful, husband. Did you like the song I sang for you?"

Burying his face into her hair, Sandor's long suppressed emotions get the better of him at last. Her intense love awakens a need the man thought long dead inside of him. It is a beautiful and unexpected new reality for him, to love and be loved so passionately in return.

Wrapping his body around her protectively, Sandor holds her close and caresses her skin. The man knows that now he has experienced her love, he will never be able live without it, without her, and no matter what the future may bring, he is determined nothing will ever separate them again. He will go to his grave keeping her safe and doing whatever he can to ensure her happiness, of that he is certain. He vows in his heart to do all he can to ensure she never has a reason for unhappiness again as he holds her close, slowly stroking her bare skin.

Sensing his mood, Sansa strokes his chest tenderly in return, whispering her assurances of love in his ear. The love and tenderness she is giving him is far more than he ever experienced in his life, more than he even dreamed possible. The man finds himself so deeply moved he is momentarily unable to speak."It was a beautiful song, my Little bird," he finally chokes out.

"Your song was beautiful, too, my husband," she teases, wrapping a lock of his hair around her finger. "I wish to hear it again, as soon as may be."

Tilting her face up to meet his eyes, Sandor speaks low and deliberate. "You are mine now, Sansa. I swear on the old gods and the new I will never allow anyone to take you from me."

Snuggling against him, she drowsily replies, "As you are mine, my love."

Several moments pass in silence. Sansa soothingly runs her hands through the hair on his chest while Sandor struggles to express his feelings. Just say it. Tell her, you bastard…"I…I love you, wife," he finally manages.

"And I love you, dearest," Sansa smiles as she covers his mouth with her own. Finally at peace, Sandor silently thanks the gods for her love and the new life that lies before them as he drifts off to sleep.

The next day dawns bright and crisp for the couple. Sandor and Sansa spend most of the morning discussing the wedding, having decided to go through with a second ceremony. As Lord Commander on the Wall, Sandor reminds Sansa that it is important to leave no doubt about his sister's honor or the validity of their union before the men and Sansa agrees, though she is unwilling to have a public ceremony lest it draw Roose Bolton's attention. In the end it is decided they will only invite Jon, Sam and Pod, as well as Nan and Horen, the blacksmith Sandor has trained under for the past several months.

Together Sandor and Sansa approach Nan, the old woman clapping her hands excitedly at the news. Reluctantly Sansa tells her of the need for secrecy in light of the Boltons. Nan suggests, "Then don't marry in front of the Heart tree, child. Wed your man in front of the weirwoods to the north. It matters not; the sacred trees are all interconnected my dear, it is known. Your vows will be heard by the old gods, don't you fret on that."

Nan's words remind Sansa of her father's stories about the weirwood trees at Winterfell. "Oh Sandor, wouldn't it be lovely to wed in front of the immense weirwood we visited?" Chuckling under his breath, Sandor nods. "Aye, we'll wed there. Let's go tell your brother."

At midday as golden beams of sunlight stream through the dense scarlet colored leaves, Sandor and Sansa repeat the vows in front of the vast weirwood with only their family and dearest friends as witnesses. Sealing their pledge with a kiss, a strong breeze sends a gust of leaves descending upon the couple causing Jon to laugh out loud, "Sis, look! Father is giving his blessing on your wedding." Giggling she pulls Sandor close, thrilling at the sight of the giant crimson leaves swirling all around them.

The party follows the newlyweds back to their cabin. Hugging and kissing the couple, everyone but Nan and Horen quickly ride off. Grinning at the girl, Nan watches while Horen tacks two large weirwood leaves to their door. "There now, lass, that'll do. You and your man will be untroubled during your wedded night and for the week after. You have fun now." Turning she pokes Sandor in the chest, "And you, big man, you be good to your lady, ya hear me? If I'm learnin' contrary, I'll take my switch to ya, don't think I won't, neither."

Laughing sharply, Sandor looks down upon the tiny shriveled woman. "Aye, I will at that. You remind me a lot of my greatmother, Nan. She took her switch to my backside a time or two and I'll not doubt you'd do it, either. Rest assured, I'll be good to Sansa."

After the neighbors leave, Sandor lifts Sansa in his arms and carries her over the threshold. "Time for the honeymoon, wife," he growls in her ear, causing giggles to erupt from his young bride, the girl blushing deeply while thinking of the previous night's events.

For the next week the couple spent their time alternating between eating, sleeping and making love. Sandor only leaves the small cabin once a day to check Stranger and Sugar. In their newfound intimacy, the couple's lovemaking slowly mends the wounds of heart and mind.

At the end of their honeymoon, Jon arrives at the cabin. "Sandor, I need to speak to you in private. Where is Sansa?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Sandor replies, "She's napping. Let's go out on to the porch." Closing the door softly behind him, he asks gravely, "What it is?"