A/N: Disclaimers
- I don't gain anything by this. The characters & story are the brilliant work of GRRM
- The title for this fic is inspired by the song Dante's Prayer.
*My betas: Thank you forever and ever! For giving me the best advice and feedback: gingerbeer48, swiftsnowmane, vargasse & onborrowedwings!
*The story though mainly book canon, can still apply for the HBO show (I don't anything from the tv show either).
- The story will contain dialogue from both the books and the show from now on.
The next morning as Sansa stood looking up at the ship that was to take her across the sea, she found herself remembering evenings gathered around the fire with her brothers and sister listening to Old Nan tell her stories. Some of the time her tales would be about boys who stowed away on trading galleys and sailed off to adventures.
Am I sailing now off to an adventure too? Sansa wondered. Is it even right to call this an adventure when I am fleeing for my life?
She mused over how different her fate had turned out to be. Not even in a thousand years could she have imagined when she first arrived at King's Landing that she would leave it fleeing for her life. That instead of becoming Joffrey's queen she would choose to run away from him with the help of the man who had previously been known as the king's shield…
But even before that things hadn't been as she'd once hoped, starting with the death of Lady and that dreadful incident between Arya and Joffrey, her once golden prince; she'd thought him a hero come again, just like the the Dragonknight, and she would've been his Queen Naerys. As she left Winterfell, Sansa had been sure her own song was just beginning, but the dreadful changes that her life had taken had dashed the hopes of that too, making her fear that when she left her home up north, her song has ended. Now that she was free again she had started to wonder if her song was not yet still very much alive…
The Summer Bird was a trading galley just like in the stories, but it had always been Arya and her brothers more than Sansa the ones who wished for something like this. Still, though she was terribly nervous, she couldn't deny that she was also feeling excited about it.
At least the ship doesn't look in such a bad state, she admitted. It was actually quite pretty. The wooden figurehead at the bow was carved in the shape of a bird whose feathers she could only remember seeing on the extravagant wardrobe that the exiled prince of the Summer Isles Jalabhar Xho had shown off at court, and the hull was striped in the Lysene fashion. Sansa liked it. Ships look much prettier with so much color on them. The more practical things the ship possessed were two banks of oars and a gilded prow in bronze, along with three tall masts with furled sails.
Some of the sailors were at present loading some casks from the inn's storeroom up the plank. Sandor had told her that he had gathered they were using the inn as a place to hide some of the goods they came upon. The other men were either already sitting with the oars or running around the forecastle or shouting at their mates by the rail.
It was nearly time to go now but Sansa was ready. After waking up at the hour of dawn and having breakfast Sandor had announced that he was going to check on Stranger. She would've liked to go with him so she could spend a little more time with the fierce horse as Sandor had advised her, but Sansa had decided to take that time to go and pray at the little sept she had spied last night. It had just been a little dismal one room sept, even more modest than the one at Winterfell that Father had built for Mother. Instead of statues or carved faces, the gods were visible only as charcoal paintings on the walls, and there wasn't even a septon. A woman outside the sept had told her that Septon Umbrick only visited the village twice a year. Apparently the man was one of those wandering septons who walked through a specific region, spreading the Faith to the smallfolk.
In the end she supposed it was for the best that there was no septon around. If there had been I would have had to lie to a holy man since I wouldn't have been able to even tell him my name. Sansa only wished there had been a godswood too. She needed her father's gods just as much as her lady mother's now.
The sept had been empty and had a dirty floor, but she had knelt all the same in front of the drawn figures of the gods and prayed long and hard.
Sansa had prayed to all of them, even the Stranger. She prayed to the Father to judge her case and ensure that they had a safe journey; she prayed to the Mother to watch over her mother and let her not despair if she found out that her daughter had disappeared, and to also watch over Robb and even Arya if she was still alive; she also prayed to the Mother to watch over her and Sandor with the same care and love; She prayed to the Maiden to keep her safe from the sailors and to give her strength so that she could be brave for herself and Sandor; she prayed to the Crone to give her a happy peaceful future for her when the war was over, a life where she was safe back in Winterfell with what was left of her family… and Sandor, if he so wished it; she prayed then to the Warrior to give courage and strength to Sandor at all times so that he could keep both of them safe, and to Robb so that he would win against all his foes. She felt the dagger hidden inside her cloak and prayed that there would never be a need for her to use it, but that if there was, she would be brave enough to do what was required; she prayed to the Smith to protect the Summer Bird and to put the world of men to right; and when the time came to pray to the Stranger, Sansa asked him to allow Sandor to break free from all his rage and cruelness, and to allow them to see Westeros once again… she even prayed for Sandor's dark horse and asked for forgiveness on behalf of Sandor for having mocked the gods with naming his horse like that; and finally she had thanked all of them for hearing her prayers and sending Sandor to her.
As a seagull flew across the skies now Sansa looked up at it, wondering if the bird had ever seen what wonders lay across the narrow sea, when Sandor gripped her shoulder.
"Stranger's ready. It'll be hell to get him onto the ship, but I think he'll be all right."
Sansa noticed he was swearing the dark traveler's cloak he'd bought from the inn-keeper.
"I'm glad. And did the inn-keeper have hay and oats to sell for him?"
Sandor nodded. "What about you? Did you find whatever you were looking for with your gods?"
"I did," she replied. "And it would be kind of you not to mock the gods when we are about to dare autumn storms."
He laughed at her for that and crossed his arms in front of his wide chest. "I would've thought you'd be more afraid of getting stolen by pirates from the Stepstones or by a kraken from the deeps over autumn storms."
I am scared of those things too, she thought. But as she was about to reply to Sandor that he was being mean, Captain Iytus appeared by their side. He was garbed in quite a flamboyant style, in fine velvet boots with a matching tunic, and a feather on his hat.
"All ready, my friends?"
"Yes," was all Sandor rasped in reply.
Sansa nodded and smiled kindly at the captain. If she was supposed to remain silent, she could at least be polite and try to make up for Sandor's short and brusque answers.
And apparently Captain Iytus didn't seem to mind Sandor's rudeness so much, for he just clapped his hands together and said, "So… are you sure your horse won't be too much to handle aboard a ship, my friend? He seems to be quite a fierce beast, and I'm afraid none of my men will dare risk having their heads bitten off by him."
"I would've thought my word as a knight would be enough," Sandor said, sounding irritated, but Sansa had a deep suspicion that he was actually jesting with the Lyseni.
"Oh of course! Take no offense, Ser Byman! I meant none. A knight's honor is known to be above question around the world… It's just that, well, I was just with your horse and I wanted to give him an apple, but he almost chewed off my hand."
Sandor laughed sincerely and openly, and gave the lean tall man a pat on the back. "Better not try anything else with him in the future."
"Yes, advice I shall now indeed follow..!"
"How long do you think the journey will be likely to last?" Sandor wondered.
"It would depend on many things, Ser friend. Besides the autumn storms there are times of dead calm which may delay us if there is no wind to move us. We shall only be sailing by day."
"How wide is it?" she asked, unable to help herself.
"About as long as the Wall up north... Not that long compared to other oceans, I think," Sandor answered.
"I should think that it'll take us between six days to a fortnight," the captain provided.
"That doesn't seem so long," she sighed in relief.
"Do not worry about it, charming Jeyne… Now, I think that if you two are ready we are now free to go!"
It did turn out a difficult task to get Stranger on board, but Sandor demonstrated a patience none of the sailors would've thought possible in a man like him, and with soothing whispers he calmed the horse as best he could, enough to get him down to the ship's room that was used as a stable and farm, where there were some chickens and ducklings awaiting their fate to be eaten for dinner one of these days.
When it was Sansa's turn to go up the plank, she didn't like it any better. The plank was not as wide as she would have liked, and it was all crooked and splintery. She was sure she would end up falling before she reached the ship, but Sandor was there to offer her his hand and arm as support. In the end he almost lifted her into the forecastle.
As she stood there by Sandor's side, preparing to leave the Seven Kingdoms Sansa could feel the cold wind caressing the loose strands that had managed to detach themselves from her braid. She grabbed the rail for support and closed her eyes, whispering ever so gently Lady.
"Sandor?"
"Yes little bird?"
"I'm afraid."
"Everything scares the little bird, doesn't it?"
"I'm serious."
He chuckled softly at her vexed expression.
"I know you are, but I wouldn't worry too much if I were you. You're stronger than you know."
Her tummy was starting to flutter nervously now that she started to feel the ship moving in the morning tide, so she swallowed her dignity and said, "Could you please hold me?"
She didn't want to look at his face then, afraid that he would only mock her some more. She kept her eyes rooted to the beautiful horizon, but after a moment Sandor put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.
"We'll both have to be dead for Westeros for a while, but we'll be back, Sansa. We'll be back."
And she believed him. Everything will be fine somehow, she told herself turning her skin had turned from porcelain, to ivory, to steel.
She drew up her hood against the wind wondering what awaited her far across the sea. Their lives would hang on the balance of their decisions from now on…
Their cabin was damp and cold and not as big a room as they would have liked, but Sansa seldom left it. Long before they were well out to the sea Sansa had unfortunately fallen sick, and remained so for most of the voyage: even more sick with the terror of drowning the three times wild storms came about. Sandor too had been worried; that she would catch a fever, but she didn't.
Whenever the captain paid their cabin a visit he would apologize for not having any rich food to offer.
"Saan and some other captains have quails in honey and snails to eat, but poor Iytus and his crew is left with chickens and hogs."
Sansa thanked him for his thoughtfulness but was not in a state to have eaten any rich food even if she'd wanted to. The movement of the ship was so dizzying that her head hurt her and her tummy felt queasy. Sansa could only drink some milk and honey at the start, and after that only water most of the time. She had to stay abed on the old featherbed that had been laid upon the narrow sleeping shelf.
Sandor had it worse than her though. He would stay with her most of the time, offering her a bucket whenever she felt like retching and holding her hand when the storm was upon them, or just guarding her from the possibility of sailors trying to have their way with her. But he had to leave her more than once a day to get fresh air or get them their food or to go check on Stranger since the horse had to be fed and watered too. By night he had to sleep on a hammock which wasn't nearly big enough for him. But the worst thing he said was that the cabin was just too low and cramped, so he didn't have that much space to stretch his legs in. Sansa noticed once was that he never brought any wine to the cabin though for some reason. If he drank, and she was sure he did, he did it somewhere else, and thankfully when the world turned upside down with the storms and the thunder, there were no wineskins or bottles in their cabin. One morning when she woke up feeling slightly better she found Sandor still sleeping in the hammock and just lay there looking at him for a long time. She'd told afterwards him that they ought to switch since she could fit better in the hammock than he ever would, while Sandor could stretch a bit more in the little bunk, but he had only laughed at that and told her that she was silly.
Ever since fleeing the Red Keep, Sandor's subtle acts of kindness had never ceased to amaze her. Whether it was helping her off the saddle or comforting her as she cried, or trying to warm her as much as possible the night the storm had turned the whole world cold in the Kingswood, he seemed to want to keep her as comfortable as he could. And now this; giving her the most comfortable spot in their cabin, and even holding her as she retched… If she hadn't been too seasick she would have died of shame right then and there the first time it had occurred.
The few times Sansa had managed to climb the various ladders to the forecastle she had not found it all together unpleasant. She saw dolphins swimming along the ship more than once, and they just about took Sansa's breath away as she stood excitedly with her arm though Sandor's, while the Summer Bird sailed deeper into the blue.
After about twelve days at sea the voyage finally ended with the cabin boy being the only loss they suffered. When the captain came down to their cabin one afternoon to tell them they would be arriving in Pentos in less than an hour, Sandor took the bundle they'd made of the discarded garments she'd worn all the way from King's Landing to The Stormed King inn, up to the forecastle and threw it overboard.
They had to take down the sails and depend on oars alone as they entered the large bay. Sansa stood by the aft of the ship then, still a little dizzy but feeling stronger than she had in the past days now that they had finally arrived safely at Pentos. It was still late afternoon when the Summer Bird moored at the quay. Though she had no notion what awaited them in this far away distant land, Sansa could not seem to take her eyes off the city.
Her first view of it was incredible. Even from afar it was obvious that this was unlike any city back in Westeros. Enormous manses could be seen atop rolling green hills surrounding Pentos, as well as big round shining gold domes. Sansa could see brick towers everywhere. She smiled up at Sandor then and said, "We made it!"
He had smiled in return and said, "I'll give the captain something to keep him quiet about us. The word may spread anyway, but it's best if we don't start making more enemies so soon after escaping the last ones."
When the ship was finally anchored beside a high-masted swan ship from the Summer Isles and another merchant galley off-loading its supplies, Sansa had to stay with the captain beside the ship while Sandor went to fetch Stranger, but she didn't mind. She liked the captain very much and would be a little sad to part with him. He could have slit Sandor's throat as they were crossing the narrow sea and done terrible things to her, but instead he'd been courteous to her and she just knew he'd also grown on Sandor, though the latter would deny it of course where she too mention it.
Regardless of Captain Iytus, Sansa was glad to be back on solid land. The world was finally steady and she thought she would be able to keep down some food at long last, though nothing heavy.
While she waited she took a good look about her. Everything was just so strange to her eyes, she felt just like she had on the day she'd first seen King's Landing. There were mostly sailors at the port at this hour, but the lowborn and highborn she saw were both garbed so differently to what Sansa was accustomed that she could not help but stare, even though she knew it was unladylike. Even the air smelled different; it was full of spices, and quite hot. She could feel her woolen clothes starting to stick to her skin as the tepid air ran salty fingers through her hair.
I must look as haggard as a corpse, and smell of vomit. I desperately need a bath and a change of clothes, though I suppose that will have to wait till tomorrow.
As Sandor finally got Stranger off the plank, Sansa shook the dirt off her gown and smiled at the sight of the big horse. It was good to see the destrier had survived the journey, since the loss of him would have been a great loss to his master.
Following Stranger, the sailors of the Summer Bird began to unload their cargo. Captain Iytus looked at them with a little sadness in those clear blue eyes of his, and said, "I fear my friends that we must say out farewells quite hastily since I've already caught a scent of the custom inspectors nearby, and we can't have them meeting you unless you want to be put through many questions."
"We wouldn't," Sandor admitted. "We would also be grateful for your silence in ever having meeting us, Captain Mollaris."
"Iytus please… But to be sure, I can of course keep quiet if my dear Ser Byan so wishes!"
"I do."
"Very well, but before parting let me just say that it has been a pleasure knowing you, Ser," the Lyseni captain replied, bowing his head in Sandor's direction. He then took Sansa's hand and kissed it. "And you as well, charming Jeyne."
"You're most kind, Captain Mollaris" she replied truthfully.
"Not at all, not at all…" He clapped his hands together thrice and a sailor appeared with three wineskins at his side. "Good ser knight, I wish to give you some skins of the fine Lyseni wine you praised back at the Stormed King so you can remember that you have a friend in the world which you can reach for whenever you feel like it."
Sandor took the wineskins and grumbled his thanks, but his voice betrayed him. He was very pleased by the gift.
After that they shook hands with him and paid him his due before leaving him with his ship and his sailors and his Lyseni wine.
Sandor took Stranger's reins and had his other hand resting on the pommel of his sword, ready to unsheathe it at any moment. Sansa walked by him, taking in the streets they crossed and the people who passed them by. Some gave them curious glances. Others eyed her insolently and some women even stared at Sandor in fear. There were no other people who looked as if they had also come from Westeros that she could see. Sandor was the only man in mail and armor, and his face and height attracted attention, even with his hood up.
"Sandor, couldn't we please stop and get some food?"
"Of course, little bird, but nothing heavy. Here, drink some wine. It'll help," he said, passing her one of the new wineskins.
Since they had no idea where they should they go to seek food and lodgings, Sandor stopped a fat man with a cart full of fruits and bought her something to eat. She ate a blood orange while Sandor bought a pear and asked the man if he spoke the Common Tongue. He didn't, so they moved on, and on their third try they found a man who understand them and told them where to find what Sansa supposed would be the Free Cities' version of an inn.
Between two yellow houses with tile roofs they found what they were looking for. A building four stories and with white washed walls, old yet still apparently capable of standing another half a century, it had many signs above the door in different tongues, and one of them was written in the Common Tongue, though it only read INN. No name, just inn. The stables were at the back of the building beside a stone courtyard and they went there first to tie Stranger up. The young man who tended to the horses had dusky color skin, yellow hair, and grey eyes and apparently understood well enough what was expected of him. Sandor took the saddle off Stranger with its bag containing their few possessions were kept and led the way to the front of the building.
Once inside the common room Sansa's eyes grew wide. The room was larger than the Queen's Ballroom back at the Red Keep, and many private alcoves and tables were occupied by all sorts of people. Sailors, some parents with children, two old women gossiping away, and a bunch of old men playing some type of boar game. The light of the common room was very dim, and there was a large stairway which led to the upper floors.
Sandor took off his hood as a man Sansa assumed was the innkeeper walked towards them. He had gray wings in his brown thinning hair, was short and had flabby arms.
The man took one look at them and knew they were from Westeros. His eyes stayed on Sandor's face though, and Sansa was afraid he would not like what he saw there and order them out.
"Seven Kingdoms?" he asked finally in a thick barely understandable accent.
"Yes. We seek a good room with a big bed and a bathtub and we have already put our horse in the stables."
Sansa noticed that Sandor said our horse, not my horse. She liked it.
The man scratched his head. "It'll be four for the horse and looking after it, two for the baths and seven for the room…. How long do you intend to stay?"
Sandor shrugged.
"You pay half now and half later then. You'll need a big bed by the size of you. I have a room free on the third landing. Come, I'll show you."
He led them to the third floor of the inn and said, "Think this will be fine."
Sandor nodded and gave the man his Westesori silver. The man bit the stag and said, "All well. Now I go back," he informed them as he handed Sandor the key to the room. "I'll send my sons up with the water for the bath if you'll be wanting it now."
She nodded vigorously at that, and Sandor barked at the man's back, "Make that hot water!"
"Yes! Yes!" they heard the innkeeper grumbling as he went back downstairs after he'd given Sandor the key to the room.
Sansa was pleasantly surprised that their room was not like the ones from the first floor which had looked terribly small, and cramped and cheap. This room was large and airy and even had a small balcony and a high ceiling. The bed was big and Sansa was glad to see that the mattress and pillows were stuffed with feathers, not straw. The bed looked a bit old but snug. There was also a tall mirror in the corner along with a round table and three chairs and a chamber pot. There was even a fireplace, curtains on the windows and towels and a jug with a bowl that served for the water basin. None of it seemed to be of very good quality, but it would serve nicely for the present.
Sansa walked outside towards the balcony and smiled. Is this really happening? She went back to the room and saw Sandor putting down the saddle and bag by a corner.
"Do you like it?" Sandor asked.
Her smile spread from ear to ear. "Yes, I do. It's lovely. Thank you so much for this, Sandor."
His eyes and mouth smiled, pleasantly surprised. "And yet they aren't what you're accustomed to, little bird."
"True, but after the Kingswood and that ship this is just perfect..!"
Sandor looked at her strangely, a little unbelieving but ended up shrugging and looking around the room. "I think it'll do for the time we have to stay here. We'll go down to the docks tomorrow to see if there's a ship-"
He broke off as the innkeepers's sons brought in pails of steaming water into the room. The sons were men older than Sandor, but they looked very much alike so Sansa suspected they were twins.
They looked on as the tub was filled. When the sons left after lighting up the candles and fireplace Sansa looked up at Sandor timidly.
He seemed to understand after a moment. "Bar the door and keep your dagger at hand. Take your bath while I go downstairs and have some proper dinner… Do you want anything?"
"No thank you. Maybe tomorrow when I've rested and I'm strong again."
He grunted and repeated his order. "Bar the door. I'll unlock it when I come back."
"But you'll knock first, won't you?"
If he entered the room while she was still bathing she knew she would just die. Sandor's rough laugh was her answer.
When he was gone and Sansa had entered the tub she sighed deeply in comfort. She would desperately need a brush to comb her hair back into curls afterwards, but it would have to wait until tomorrow. The tub was facing the open balcony, so as she bathed she saw the night sky appear, filled with thousands of shinning bright stars. My mother and Robb could be looking at the same stars right now, she pondered as she rubbed her back. She grinned. If they only knew where I was!
It was still hard to believe that they'd made it this far. And Sandor was being so nice to her, making sure she got hot water for her much needed bath and spending all his winnings on keeping her out of harm's way.
I ought to do something for him. The question was what..?
When Sandor came back she had thought of something that she was sure would please him very much.
"No trouble while I was gone?" he asked her.
She shook her head. "Was the food any good?" she asked as he closed the door.
"I had roasted pig and wine," was all he said as he walked over to the water basin to clean his mouth.
Sansa was thinking if she ought to tell him now but before she could do anything he rasped, "I saw a well and a water pump down by the courtyard. I'm going to go take a bath."
"Oh, sure, all right." Now that she was once again washed and clean she did think it best for Sandor to wash up a bit too.
He started unbuckling the straps of his armor, while Sansa just stood there watching him. Sansa noticed that it was a little hard to do it alone. Sandor obviously needed help, but he wasn't asking her for any.
Sansa forced her feet to take her over to stand next to him. He stopped and looked down at her, frowning slightly.
"I want to help remove your armor," she said, and it sounded almost like a whisper.
He froze on the spot and quickly looked at her. When he saw that she didn't look away he made a sound that was almost a laugh. "I didn't ask for your help… And," he added, cocking his head sideways. "What do you know of it? Have you ever taken off a man's armor?"
She bit her lip, blushing. "No," she admitted, "but it can't be that hard. I've seen it done many times before, in Winterfell and King's Landing."
Sandor looked down at her and said nothing. She could not quite read what the look in his eyes meant, but she nonetheless took his silence for approval, so taking a deep breath she moved behind him and helped him unbuckle the straps there. She helped him push his armor over his shoulders, along with his breastplate and chainmail. Sansa was starting to feel a little fluttering all the way from her throat to her tummy as she realized that along the way Sandor had stopped helping her out. When all that was left were his tunic and his breeches and boots she finally met his eyes and said, "Sandor?"
"Yes little bird?" he asked hoarsely.
"Please don't take too long… I… I wanted…-"
"Out with it, little bird. What is it?"
"I… I have a surprise for you when you come back," she finally managed to say.
"What surprise?" he asked suspiciously, and she saw his eyes observe the room once more trying to see if the surprise was there somewhere.
"If I tell you it won't be a surprise any longer," she pointed out, smiling.
His mouth twitched then but she didn't mind it anymore. In truth, she wasn't bothered by his face these days, and ever since leaving King's Landing his eyes had shown a little less rage, so it wasn't hard now to keep his gaze as he stood imposingly tall before her.
He gave her a nod and a noise that sounded like a grunt, and in the blink of an eye he was out the door after he'd put his sword belt on once more. Perhaps it was because he didn't scare her anymore, or perhaps it was because she wanted to show him some kindness in return for everything he'd done for her so far, but for whatever reason, Sansa suddenly found herself running after him. He heard her when he was three steps down the stairwell, and he turned to look at her dashing to his side across the hallway.
"What now?" he rasped, a little irritated. Their heads where almost on the same level at present she noticed, but she still had to tip toe in order to move closer.
"Just this," she replied and before Sandor could move away or stop her, she leaned down, put a hand on his broad shoulder to steady herself and gave his unscarred cheek a quick kiss.
Sandor's eyes grew wide and she heard him draw in a gasp.
When she took a step back Sansa saw all the hard lines of his face soften as his eyes roamed over her face, her lips, her hair, her eyes, her breasts…
"Thank you so much for everything… for keeping your promise" she said so low she wasn't even sure Sandor had heard it. With that she turned around and quickly walked back to their room, closing the door.
Sandor was almost afraid to open the door to the bedroom now that he was here. Seven hells, he thought. What have I gotten myself into?
He was washed and well fed for the first time in weeks and yet he was feeling very uneasy. It wasn't so much because they were in a strange land he didn't fucking know his way around. It was that kiss and the surprise Sansa has mentioned. He'd wondered all the times as he took his bath what it would be. She had nothing of value but her jewels in her possession. If she dares offer me a buggering gold ring or a gemstone necklace she is really in for it! Hadn't she realized that he wasn't doing this for gold? But then why are you doing this? A voice inside him asked. Bugger me if I know, he thought, and shook his head.
He'd been standing outside their room for too bloody long now. He took a deep breath and unlocked the door, forgetting to knock this time.
He saw at once that Sansa was outside in the balcony looking up at the sky, waiting. As he locked the door he noticed too that the little bird had already readied the blankets and pillows for tonight's rest.
Sandor took off his sword belt and left it in a chair as he made his way to stand behind Sansa outside. The night breeze was cold yet not chilly, and it was stirring Sansa's wet auburn hair. He noticed that her hands were holding on to the handrail before he placed his own hands protectively on her shoulders.
Sansa obviously must have heard him come in because he didn't startle her with his touch as he had wanted to, but the fact that she didn't shrug him off unsettled him in a good way.
"Can you believe we're really here?" she said in a quiet awed voice.
"No," he answered, when what he was really thinking was that he couldn't believe that he was holding on to her like this, and that she seemed willing. "Did I take too long?"
She shook her head and turned around to face him. Fuck me, she is fucking pure perfection. Little drops from the bath fell across her face and ran down her cheeks. One ran over her full lips and he went hard with the thought of licking it off her. Stop it. Don't go down that road. But he couldn't help it when she was looking up at him like that. He felt himself go even harder as he thought about when she had started acting like this around him. When did she stopped being afraid of me and begin to look at my face without fear..? Sandor grabbed her chin and drew her closer to him to see what she would do. "I want my surprise now, little bird."
"Very well…" she said, taking the hand that held her chin. She stepped around him and drew him into the room. He gulped wondering if she was going to give him what he was thinking.
Sansa let go off his hand then and said, "Sit down if you will."
He obeyed like the good dog he was and sat on the bed. Maybe she meant for him to sit on a chair, but if she had she didn't say anything.
She looked a little nervous again, as she looked down at her clasped hands. "You said once that you would have a song from me whether I will it or not, remember?"
Sandor could only give her a small nod in answer. She can't possibly know what sort of song you meant that time. Suddenly he recalled the night of the battle when he had taken the Mother's Hymn from her at blade point. That made him look down at his feet. If he looked into her eyes and saw accusation there he didn't know what he would do.
His shame seemed to give her courage. "Well, you've already taken a song from me… but this I'll sing more than willingly… In Maidenpool our story starts…"
Sandor looked up at Sansa just in time before she began to sing in that beautiful sweet voice of her the tale of Florian and Jonquil. A fool and his cunt. Sandor would've laughed if he wasn't stunned. Well, you certainly must look like a bloody fool yourself, sitting here on the bed with your mouth slightly open.
Sansa Stark walked to the bed and sat beside him, the song now in the line where Jonquil says, You are no knight, I know you well. Many a night I've heard in my father's hall the tale of the man whose armor is made of motley. Her words only served to hearten poor Florian who shamelessly proclaimed, I am, my lady! As great a fool as ever lived, and as great a knight as well… Jonquil's sweet laugh started then as she replied that never before had she heard of such a thing. But dear homely Florian won over by now called out, Sweet lady, all men are fools, and all men are knights, where women are concerned…
Sansa went on into the verses that spoke of the dragon whose fire melted down the eternal stone where a giant had been locked in as a curse for thousands of years. Sandor knew the end of the story, but never before had those lines made him feel what he was feeling right now. When she reached the part of the final swordfight where Florian dies to save fair Jonquil's life, Sandor felt as if he had fallen under a spell. He had never felt enchanted before, but by the Seven, he was enchanted by Sansa Stark too bloody much! Her voice was stripping away the armor he'd carried without complaint for years, and the more she sang, the more vulnerable Sandor felt.
And so this tale has reached its end with tears and broken hearts, for never again was there seen in the world a love like the one fair Jonquil had, nor has there ever been seen again a man as honorable as the motley knight…
When Sansa's voice trailed off into the darkness, the candles having almost burned out now, she could still see Sandor's face well since she had sat down right beside him. They had looked into each other's eyes as she sang her favorite song, and though there were no tears Sansa could see Sandor's eyes glittering. It must be his favorite song as well though he wouldn't admit it if I asked him. He'd asked for this song more than once.
The way Sandor was looking at her at present was just… right. She felt drawn to him for some strange reason, but she was afraid that if she moved or said the wrong thing the magic of the moment would be lost. So she waited for him to say or do something.
Sansa couldn't be sure how long they sat there in silence, but finally Sandor leaned over and for a moment Sansa was sure he was going to kiss her. And the realization that she didn't want to move away scared her just as much as the new sensations she was feeling in her body, her soul and her heart.
But he didn't kiss her. At least not in the way Sansa had been certain that he would when she saw his eyes lingering a bit too long on her mouth. Sandor pressed his lips to her forehead as he placed one of his hands on the back of her head, pressing her gently towards him.
Sandor rested his lips on her skin for a long moment, and when he slowly leaned back Sansa tilted her head, trying to understand what exactly had just happened and how a man like Sandor could be so gentle with a silly little bird like her…
Then she felt the fingers of his hand slightly, gently brushing her fingers.
In a low voice while their heads were still too close to each other Sandor said, "I knew I'd make you sing for me one day, little bird."
She knew he hadn't, at least not with her willingly participating, but she smiled all the same. She couldn't help it. Neither could Sandor it seemed for he returned her smile in a manner just as genuine as her own... She didn't even feel the need to hear him say thank you. She had wanted to sing for him and now that she had and he'd liked it there was nothing wrong anymore… At least not for tonight.
"I think it's time we got some rest," she finally said.
"I think you're right, Sansa."
The way he said her name made her blush, though she hoped it was too dark for him to notice.
She got under the covers while he crossed to the other side of the bed. The burned side of his face was facing her this time, but that didn't stop her from actually cuddling closer when Sandor pulled the blankets over himself. He looked down at her as she timidly reached out for his hand. Sandor brought their entwined hands up to his face and kissed her hand too. It was so snug and warm under the covers that Sansa was already drifting off when she heard Sandor wishing her good night.
"Night," she mumbled in reply before sleep claimed her…
A/N: Thank you so much for reading & reviewing! I cannot wait for your thoughts on this chapter