A/N: Disclaimers
- I don't gain anything by this. The characters & story are the brilliant work of GRRM. And the title of the fic is taken from Loreena McKennitt's, Dante's Prayer which is a huge inspiration for this story ;)

*My betas: swiftsnowmane, onborrowedwings & gingerbeer48, you are simple THE best! Thank you for your undying support X)

- 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.

13. Great Norvos

Sandor had been dreaming pleasantly when he was abruptly brought back to the present, as one of those three blasted bells- the one that announced dawn- the Norvoshi tolerated every fucking day of their lives, rang once again. Sandor, who'd trained himself over the long years of working for the Lannisters to sleep lightly, was barely able to restrain himself from rasping out a loud curse that would have surely woken Sansa as he sat up in bed, his heart beating fast.

How can the Norvoshi actually live like this? He wondered in frustration. And that idiot Vintos was actually suggesting I would get used to that endless ringing! He then silently wished that the buggering idiot who'd thought those bells were a good idea was burning in some hell.

When he was sure it was safe enough to take his hands away from his ears, he let out a long, deep sigh. After running his hand over his face and rubbing his eyes, Sandor glanced down at Sansa beside him, amazed that she was still sleeping, resting on her belly, her pretty face hidden underneath her loose, long hair that fanned everywhere, both her arms tucked in securely beneath her pillow. Poor little bird, she must have been more tired than I realized after all this traveling, and is just plain exhausted.

Sandor watched her for a moment until the soft sound of her breathing drove his mind back to last night when she'd broken down because of him. Seven hells, Sandor thought, though in amazement. Not since Arwyn had anyone cried for him, and certainly not Sansa. Sure, he'd seen her cry many times before, but she'd never cried for him so far as he knew.

Sandor Clegane would never have imagined up till some months ago that he would ever have the beautiful little bird caring for him so much. Yet now here he was, in the Free City of Norvos, at the boarding house of the Three Bells, with Sansa beside him, so used to his presence that she could share a bed with him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It made him feel strange, yet far from uncomfortable, that Sansa felt so strongly about the idea of harm coming to him when no one had ever given a shit before. It had moved him beyond words to see the tears she'd because of her fears for him and the only way he'd been able to show her that those fears were unfounded had been to treat her with all the care and gentleness he could manage, as he brushed those burning tears away and hugged her, as he brought her closer to him for warmth and comfort to fall asleep together.

If the day ever comes when I have to fight a bloody Unsullied or a guard trained by the Bearded Priests, he swore to himself, I'll survive to be able to protect Sansa until the gods claim my life. I'll be damned if I let a eunuch or a man who prefers a cold axe over a woman's warmth get the better of me.

Cursing himself for a fool for thinking too much when he could be sleeping and gaining strength for this new day in their lives, he turned around in bed so he could throw a loose arm over Sansa's back. Sandor began to feel his pillow calling to him once more…

When he woke up again he could tell by the light and the sounds from outside that it was later than the hour in which he and Sansa were used to waking, yet the little bird slumbered on, her shoulder bare where her nightgown had slipped down, in the exact same position as before, only now her face was to him instead of to the wall. Sandor had huddled even closer to her he noticed.

Sitting up in bed, he saw her feet were uncovered, so he reached out to tickle her soles lightly a couple of times. Grinning at the sight of Sansa's nose twitching, he stood up, stretching his arms behind his head silently, as he walked barefooted out of the bedroom, to the living room to have a piss and wash his hands and his face in the water basin, before heading to the dining room at the front of the house to stand before one of the little windows to stare at the rising world outside.

What he supposed were some of their neighbors were already dressed, and ready for the day, heading to the common room to break their fast. A fat, bald man was rubbing his runny little black eyes as he yawned widely and crossed the cobblestone courtyard. Sandor caught sight of a willowy, common looking girl carrying a bucket into the house, Vintos stepped into last night, as well as a girl who had the look of the innkeeper about her trying to pull a goat towards the stables. Gods, how many children does the fat inkeeper have? Sandor wondered, astonished.

This city was deep inside the Hills of Norvos, and thus it was much colder than down by the seaside where Pentos had been. Sandor could see his breath misting a little against the windowpane, but the climate was bearable. He began to wonder how it would be to live here for months and how things would change once they were back in Westeros. He must have stood there pondering for some moments before he heard the little bird calling from the bedroom, "Sandor?"

"Wait, I'm coming," he called, casting one last glance at the view outside once more, making sure nothing was amiss. It's better to be alert…

When he stepped into the bedroom he saw that Sansa was now half-asleep and half-awake, peering up at him, as she lay on her belly, her elbows propping her up, hugging her pillow close.

"Good morning," Sandor rasped, leaning against the doorframe, drinking in the perfect sight that was Sansa, even when she was disheveled and sleepy. I must have done something right in my life to be rewarded with the sight of the little bird every morning…

"Good morning," she said frowning, peering closer at him. "What time is it?"

He shrugged. "I reckon it's still a couple of hours till midday."

"Oh," she yawned, totally unconcerned. Then, meeting his eyes, she blushed and said, "It's a chilly morning…"

Sandor was glad that Sansa had asked him to do what he was already thinking he would like to do, for her comment on the weather was an invitation even a blind fool could read. So he said nothing as he walked around the bed, looking at her, feeling nervous as he got under the covers, Sansa quickly huddling closer to him. It felt so good that he put an arm around her shoulder, but he didn't try to sleep. Instead he sat up a bit in the bed, as he stared at the wall in front of him, unconsciously moving his hand up and down the curve of Sansa's tiny waist after she'd rested her head on his shoulder.

After a long moment he suddenly felt Sansa's hand upon his arm, squeezing his muscles timidly.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, little bird?" he asked her, in a low growl.

"Oh!" Sansa chirped, her head coming up to meet him, blushing as brightly as the sun. "I thought you had fallen back asleep!"

"How can I go back to sleep if you're touching my arm like that?"

"Oh!" Sansa exclaimed again, burying her head in the crook of his shoulder, hiding from the wolfish grin that appeared on his face.

Sandor couldn't help but burst into a laugh as he realized what Sansa had been doing. After all, his face may be horrible but his body was that of a well-honed warrior, every inch of it muscled. There had been women in his past who had commented on it, though they hadn't touched him like Sansa just had. It's just so surreal to think that the proper little bird would feel curious about this, he thought, as Sansa still refused to lift her head up.

"Stop laughing!" she piped, her voice muffled.

Sandor tried to regain himself with some difficulty. When only the occasional chuckle still escaped him he put his hand on Sansa's back and nudged her gently.

"Little bird, stop hiding under my armpit."

Sansa shook her head but when he kept insisting she relented. Sansa did look up but would not meet his eyes, so he grabbed her chin in a firm grip and made her look at him. When her beautiful blue eyes met his, his heart went out to her.

"I know why you were doing it, little bird," he told her. "And it's not anything to embarrass yourself over. I- I can't believe I'm going to say this, but if you want to feel my muscles, you can."

Sandor gulped before he saw Sansa's mouth part a little in pleasant surprise and her eyes widened.

"Sandor, I'm sorry I did it, and if it makes you feel uncomfortable you don't have to-"

Sandor shook his head, interrupting her. "I don't mind it, Sansa. Go on."

Sansa took a moment to consider it, but it was plain on her face that she was curious about this, so before meeting his eyes again for approval, she looked over at his arm, her hand creeping slowly towards it.

The little bird began to caress his muscled forearm slightly, curiously, and when she saw that he wasn't objecting, his silence encouraged her to press her grip a bit firmer upon him. Sandor mused in the meantime how strange yet nice it felt to have someone care about exploring him like this for the first time in his life.

Sandor knew that if he asked Sansa with his eyes alone if he could reciprocate then she would nod in both curiosity and fear. But he knew himself and where that would lead to. So he restrained his thoughts, thinking that his little bird was probably the only woman he would ever allow to touch him like this. It's always been this way. Ever since that first time when I escorted her back to her chamber from the tournament grounds in the middle of the night after her incompetent septa had fallen asleep drunk on the table. I told her about Gregor, frightening the living daylights out of her, yet she still managed to chirp that Gregor was no true knight and she put her hand on my arm. It was the same arm that she was touching now.

"You really are strong," she said, in awe.

Sandor couldn't think what to say to that, so instead he reached out to her to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Sansa met his gaze quietly, her hand forgotten upon his arm.

"If you are warm enough now, little bird," he said eventually. "Might be we should get ready soon if we want to break our fast before the food runs out. I'm surprised that that fool Vintos hasn't come knocking yet to bid us good morning."

Sansa giggled, a sound that he would love till the day he died.

They sat at a table for four in the common room to break their fast, and Sansa noticed that they weren't the only ones who had rested a bit longer than usual since many of the tables and alcoves were occupied. After only a few moments, Medra the innkeep appeared beside their table, wooden spoon tucked into a pocket of her dirty apron, and she set three tankards of ale on their table, barely slopping any of their contents.

"Good morrow to you two. How was your first night in the house?" she asked them.

"Very pleasant, thank you," Sansa replied. "The bed was comfortable and the hog we had for dinner last night was delicious." And there were no bugs on the matters, she thought, though it would've been impolite to say such a thing, even in compliment.

"Of course it was good, I cooked it. What do you want for breakfast? We have porridge this morning and-"

"A flagon of wine," Sandor rasped at once.

"Do you have any milk?" Sansa asked the innkeep.

"Aye, we have nasha, which is goat's milk. And porridge, fried bacon, flatbread, honey sausage, wintercakes, baked crisp apples…"

"I want the milk please and you don't happen to have any lemoncakes, do you?"

"Lemon cakes? No, sorry dear, not today."

They probably won't even taste the same as back home. "Well a platter full of the wintercakes then please and a bit of everything else you mentioned except the porridge."

When Medra was gone, Sandor said, "You really like lemon cakes, don't you?"

Sansa smiled. "Yes, they're my favorite food ever. I am as fond of them as you are of the taste of wine."

Sandor laughed at that as they waited for their food to arrive, trying to understand the talk at the tables around them and discover what was happening in the city. Some of Medra's children were serving the food this morning (among them one of the twins who had filled the tub for her bath last night) so with every different dish they ordered a different child came to deliver it to their table.

Sandor's wine along with the honey sausage and fried bacon, were the first food to arrive, and Sansa's mouth watered at the smell of it all. They shared the food, Sandor wolfing down twice as many servings as her. When her nasha arrived, served in an iron cup, Sansa sniffed at it suspiciously before taking a sip. It tasted a bit different from the goat's milk she'd had before, and when she asked Sandor to try it so he could tell her what was in it, he made a face and said that it was fermented goat's milk laced with honey. Sansa laughed at his expression, but hadn't dislike the taste so much due to the honey, so she ordered a second iron cupful. When the wintercakes arrived Sansa saw that they were bigger than any lemoncake she'd ever seen, although both were yellow. She grabbed one gingerly, feeling how warm it was since it had just come out of the oven, which made her grin as she remembered Vintos telling them yesterday that this is how he liked them best, before she took a big bite.

The rich tastes of ginger and butter, pine nuts and sugar, cinnamon and bits of cherry, filled Sansa's mouth- she concluded it was the next best thing, when there were no lemoncakes at hand. Sandor liked the wintercakes so much that he ate half of them with her, and by the time Vintos and his wife stepped through the door and into the common room, both Sandor and Sansa were feeling ready to burst- so full were their bellies. Yet Sansa stood up to greet her neighbors, Sandor following her lead.

Vinto's wife Frema was a thin girl, not as tall as Sansa, with hazel eyes and straight brown hair. She was holding Vintos' hand as they headed towards them, a shy smile on her lips.

"Ahh, so you decided to take the house then!" Vintos said, beaming as he bowed his head at Sansa and extended his hand to Sandor. Sandor looked at it as if Vintos was offering him something poisonous, but Sansa discreetly nudged him with her elbow, making Sandor finally shake Vintos' hand. This shaking of hands must be some custom here since I cannot remember anyone in Westeros doing this…

"Yes thank you Vintos, for showing us this inn. It's been lovely so far and the food tastes delicious," she replied in her best Valyrian, looking at Frema. "And this is your wife I dare say. Frema is it?"

"Yes, hello," said the shy girl. Now that she saw the married couple together she guessed that they were both older than her, yet younger than Sandor. "You are Alysanne?"

"I am, pleased to meet you. And this is my dearest loyal friend, Edric."

Ferma's eyes fell quickly on Sandor's burns, but her husband must have prepared her for them because she only curtsied a little and said, "Honored."

If she is afraid at least she hides it better than I did when I first saw Sandor.

Sandor grunted in reply and glanced at the two empty chairs at their table. "Won't you join us?" he said, and by the sound of his voice Sansa could tell he was hoping against hope that they wouldn't.

"We've already broken our fast, but we will join you so we can get to know each other better," Vintos replied, pulling a chair for Frema to sit in. Sandor looked uncomfortable but had enough good sense to do the same as Vintos, offering Sansa her chair, whole she was unable to hide a satisfactory grin appearing on her face, which she saw Frema had noticed.

When the men sat down as well the small talk began, and thus Sansa learned more about their new friends. Frema was from the same village as Vintos, yet they hadn't grown up together, as Vintos' parents had brought him to Norvos at a young age to learn a trade and so they could all live a better life. They would often visit their family back in the little village yet it wasn't until half a year ago that Frema, who was six and ten, and Vintos, who had lived twenty name days, saw each other again, and fell in love.

Since Vintos worked in a weaver's shop where tapestries were made and sold in the Low City, there was no question that the young couple would live in Norvos, thus he'd brought Frema to the Three Bells four months ago.

As the talk turned to other matters, Sandor asked Vintos everything the latter could tell him about this city Sansa found herself talking to the older girl. She discovered that Frema had been startled at coming to Great Norvos, since she had never seen another part of the world that wasn't her little village deep in the mountains.

"This city was just so big and I lost my way so many times whenever I wandered off on my own. But I've grown to love it, Alysanne. Norvos really is beautiful and exciting and even if you and Edric don't stay for long, I'm sure you will like it here."

Sansa smiled at Frema, wondering if she would once again have a girlfriend with whom she could talk to in the same way she'd talked to Jeyne Poole long ago. So Sansa took the girl's hand between her own and replied with all honesty, "I'm sure you're right, not only because this city must be exciting, but because Sa- Edric and I will have you two as friends."

Frema squeezed her hand, thanking her kindly. "Will you tell me about your Sunset Kingdoms one day..?"

My Sunset Kingdoms. It was a strange thought. My North... And then the meaning of those words hit her. Now that Bran and Rickon are both dead, if something were to happen to Robb before he marries and sires an heir, I would be the heir to Winterfell and the North! That was something she'd never thought about before, and which made her tummy feel queasy. Gods be good, I've been so sure that Robb will win that I never stopped to think what it would mean if he doesn't. If he were to lose to the Lannisters, what would happen to the North? Sansa turned her head to look at Sandor. Stop thinking about this, Sansa Stark! Robb will win the war and you will go back home and Sandor… and Sandor… She would have thought more about how she wanted to end that sentence, but did not have time because at the moment Frema was still holding her hand, waiting for her answer.

"Yes of course," she told her new friend. "I've only ever been in the Riverlands, but I'll tell you all that I know about them!" Though I would much rather tell you about the North, Sansa thought.

"So," Vintos said, turning his attention to his wife and Sansa. "Alysanne, I've just suggested to Edric here that Frema and I show you the city today. Would you like that?"

Sansa glanced at Sandor, puzzled but happy that he was willing to go on an outing with Vintos after he'd called him annoying. "Oh yes, Vintos! How kind of you- but don't you have your work to attend to?"

"Yes, I see my Frema has already told you about it. I work at Ysimbul's House of Fine Woven Designs, but they give us one day off out of every seven, and since today happens to be that day, I'm free."

"It's kind of you to show us Norvos on your free day," Sansa said.

"It's a pleasure," Vintos assured her, slapping Sandor on the back, a gesture which startled her ferocious sword shield and which made her laugh.

Great Norvos was very different from Pentos indeed, yet that didn't stop Sansa from marveling at every garden, shop, guild halls, market, monuments, fountains, wide squares, or building they saw during the following weeks. Instead of lying by the seashore pleasantly in a gentle terrain, this city seemed at times like a maze to Sansa- a labyrinth with many levels and alleys that went all around the mountain which they learned was called Daughter Noyne. Norvoshi were very religious people, and they worshiped the river Noyne almost as much as they did its main flow, the Rhoyne, which they had referred to as Mother Rhoyne. There were little bridges that spanned the small streams that fed the Noyne as well, some of them covered, turning them into little canals. Sansa found that she liked to watch the old men and young boys sitting upon them with fishing rods, trying to catch the day's share. Another thing Sansa liked was the air, which held the mingled scent of pines and rain and stone quarries, scents she found she was naturally inclined towards. It also rained frequently here, but it wasn't necessarily a hindrance since it only made the lands around the city and beside the Noyne green and fertile. Rainy afternoons and nights meant that she and Sandor would find themselves sitting in their living room or in their bedroom at their little house, talking about everything and anything as they shared plates of wintercakes, resting in bed or upon the couches, remembering the events of the day dreaming of what was to come.

One of the first times they'd done this, Sansa had voiced her new-found fears to Sandor about what would it mean for her if Robb lost the war. Although she could see that he had a pretty accurate idea of the two ways she could handle that potential situation, he told her to stop imagining things and pray instead to her foolish gods to make sure her brother won.

"If that day ever comes, we'll face it then," he told her as she shaved his beard and trimmed his hair to his shoulder length.

Most of the houses in Norvos were made of white-stucco while the roofs were made of tiles, and there were stone towers all around the city which somehow gave an austere effect to the view.

Sansa liked to compare and contrast Norvos to Pentos and King's Landing and White Harbor, and besides being fascinated by the way Great Norvos had been built over the centuries, she also observed that the deeper one traveled into Essos, the stranger fashions turned out. In Pentos, sailors from all over the world had made the city into a tapestry of mankind's diversity, yet here it was harder to pick out which men were from where at times since almost all of them dyed and oiled their long mustaches, sweeping them up into points, while others preferred to fork their beards into the most unusual shapes and sizes. There were even those who wore golden rings in their jaws and ears, while others whom Sansa guessed were noblemen visiting the Low City had jewels encrusted in their noses or emeralds on their cheeks, making them as odd to Sansa's eyes as she'd once considered the Pentoshi to be. The accents of the Norvoshi were also different from the soft Pentoshi sounds. Here men had a bass grumble which reminded her of the bells that chimed every day (a thing that still annoyed Sandor greatly). There were all kinds of trades here; from money-changers who would bite coins to see if they were for real, to slavers or builders, and weavers like Vintos who worked at the shops where the beautifully complicated tapestries renowned all over the world were made, to the traders who became wealthier every time a caravan from the east or the west passed by, those who loved with the Bearded Priests at their temple high on the peak of the Daughter Noyne.

One of the things Sansa liked best was visiting the markets that appeared once a week all over the city with Sandor or at times Frema, where she encountered many wonders. From eastern spices she'd never smelled before, to whitewashed drinking halls and squares full of stalls where exotic food, dragonsbane and gemstones could be found from the cheapest to the most outrageous prices she'd ever seen before. The sounds of curses and shouts, laughter and lies in different tongues only served to make it a vibrant place to be. And the company of Vintos and Frema was also very enjoyable. Vintos was always pleasant to talk to and knew the Low City like the back of his hand, and Frema was there to talk to Sansa. She and Sandor once out for meal with the couple, and the four of them had a good time even if Sandor spent much of the evening, with a cup of wine on his hand and a brooding countenance. Sansa also liked the young couple because they didn't pry on her and Sandor's business as she had been sure would happen the day they first met Vintos. They may have suspected at first that we were married or something, yet by now it's clear to them that we are just friends. How could it be otherwise? It made Sansa feel a bit sad that they wouldn't think Sandor meant more to her than a friend, or that she meant more as well.

Stranger and Nan also seemed to be settling in, for each morning Sansa and Sandor visited them in the stable the horses would nod their heads up and down neighing at them expectantly over their stall doors. Sansa and Sandor would then take their mounts and explore the city's cobblestone alleys, and there was even one afternoon when they became lost and ended up right at the banks of the Noyne. Trough the distance, Sansa could see the little houses where the poorest people of Norvos lived. The sun was hiding behind some hills when Sandor suddenly looked at her and said, "I'll race you past those houses, little bird!"

And he was off before Sansa could even blink. She laughed at how he'd cheated and tried to catch up, whispering encouragingly in Nan's ear, the wind in her hair. Whether it was because Nan was younger and therefore quicker than the powerful warhorse, or because Sandor had decided to let her win, Stranger suddenly slowed down and Sansa and Nan were able to catch them, Sansa, laughing breathlessly, cheeks flushed.

"You let me win on purpose," Sansa accused Sandor when they stopped side by side beside the river.

Sandor laughed wickedly and said, "Mayhaps, you'll never know, little bird…"

Sansa furrowed her brow, in both mirth and frustration, before Sandor reached out to cup her cheek. "Breathe now, little bird, or you'll faint on me."

His callused thumb caressed her cheekbone for a moment before he let her go. Sansa was feeling content and happy as she smiled at Sandor, trying to let him know that he didn't have to take his hand away. Sansa looked around, in love with the landscape, only to gasp as she saw a massive form ahead of them.

"What is it?" Sandor asked at once, wheeling his horse towards where she was looking, his hand already going for his sword.

Sansa knew what it was even though she'd never actually see one. "Sandor, look! It's… it's an elephant!"

Sandor looked just as amazed as she felt.

"Bloody hells!" he swore. "You're right, little bird…"

"Do you think… do you think we can get a closer look?"

Sandor's face showed that he was as eager as she was to see the animal up close, yet he shook his head and pointed at it. "Seven hells, little bird! We might upset the creature!"

Sansa rolled her eyes at him. "Surely the elephant won't harm us if he isn't doing anything wrong to that man," she pointed out.

"Elephants will turn on you like most animals. While I may be able to outdistance it with Stranger galloping, as if the seventh hell itself was after him, I won't risk you or Nan getting closer to it."

"Oh, all right," she agreed, a bit disappointed, yet touched by Sandor's concern. She reluctantly turned her back on the sight of the beautiful animal and cantered away, with Sandor close at her side.

It didn't take long for Sansa to be as happy in Norvos as she'd ever been in Pentos. Sure, there were some things that she wished Norvos had, like the sea and the harbor she'd gotten to know so well in Pentos, and sometimes she wished she were different, such as the fact that they couldn't step through the golden gates by the Sinner's Steps. Sansa so longed to get a better look at the High City. In Pentos the magister' manses and the Prince's Palace had been visible to everyone, regardless of their birth or homeland, yet now all she could see were walls above her. Sansa did at times happen upon some nobles or their ladies at times down here in the Low City, but the only thing she noticed about them was their striking appearance. Rich ladies wore flowing silks that left shoulders, back and arms bare to the sight, a astonishing sight Sansa had only seen twice, since up here in the mountains the cold weather meant the ladies would also cover themselves with beautiful fur-lined jackets, decorated with beaded belts to accentuate their shapely waists. Even though a highborn lady in Westeros would never dream to wear such a revealing garment, Sansa wanted one of those dresses. I would feel so beautiful in one of them, she thought once. The way her body was quickly turning into one of a young lady made her feel confident that her womanly curves and her tall stature would render such a garment even more striking dress on her.

When such thoughts came upon her, however, she recalled that if she had stayed in King's Landing and refused Sandor's offer to take her away from the city, she would still be intended to be Joffrey's queen and might have ended up marrying him in an ivory silk dress far lovelier than any of the dresses she saw the wealthy Norvoshi women wear. But that would have meant she would have had to pledge her love for the king in sight of the gods and be bound to him till death claimed him or her. Thus, she stayed silent every time she saw the fashionable women in Great Norvos, grateful that at least she and Sandor still had their heads, despite having defied the fury of House Lannister and the power of the Iron Throne.

It was a chilly rainy night and Sansa had just tended to the brazier, shoving the coals around so the house could become a bit warmer, for even with the fireplace lit over at the dining room, the cold winds still managed to chill their bones a bit. Sandor rested on his couch- which was the one closest to the corridor- watching Sansa braiding her hair on the other couch, sitting with her legs crossed underneath her. Sandor grinned at the sight of the little bird sitting in such a fashion, tired yet content. Every bit of him hurt, yet it was a sweet pain.

Vintos had taken him to a blacksmith he knew whom he claimed was as tall and muscular as Sandor, and very good with a sword. Sandor hadn't believed him at first, but the blacksmith was indeed just as he'd been described. He turned out to be a good blacksmith too, though what Sandor needed of him had little to do with any steel he could make, but rather the steel he could wield. Some way or another Vintos had managed to tell the blacksmith that Sandor wanted to train with him and the simple bald man had grinned in acceptance, not the least intimidated by the sight of Sandor's scarred face. And though the man was unfamiliar with any proper military training, he'd given Sandor a good fight. Sandor had missed feeling this way, tired and sore, yet happy that he was still capable of fighting for hours without end.

The little bird hadn't liked the idea of him fighting, but when he told her it was necessary for him as her sworn shield and as a man to keep up with his sword training, she had sighed and said that if he really must do it, then she wouldn't mind.

Besides the blacksmith and his new lessons Sandor was having as good a time here in the Free City of Norvos as he'd ever had in Pentos. Yet in the end he knew that it didn't matter where he was, but only that Sansa was with him. Fuck, I'm in so deep even north of the freezing Wall would be home for me so long as the little bird was there to be protected. Seeing her happy and knowing that he had a part in that warmed his heart, and in return he felt bloody good whenever Sansa bid him good morning with a sincere smile on her beautiful face, or whenever she grabbed his hand as she drifted off to sleep. It even made him happy just to see her walk bare-footed around their house or when she merrily gossiped away with Frema. Sansa liked to talk to girls like this once, he recalled. So now Frema must be like a long-awaited answer to one of the little bird's prayers. Sandor knew there were things Sansa needed to learn and talk about with other women, but it hadn't been until now that it was possible. At least I suppose it's better that she hangs around the likes of Frema than of Cersei Lannister…

At present Sansa was humming a song Frema was teaching her, which was nice to Sandor's ears. He closed his eyes for a bit, letting the sound of her voice wash over him, before he heard her stand up. Sandor opened his eyes and saw Sansa standing before him, looking like the Maiden herself come to life. She was wearing her white cotton nightgown, with a shawl over her shoulders, her skin pale, her hair as red as ever, her face lovely.

"You really are exhausted, are you not?" she asked him.

"I am," he replied, wondering what she was getting at.

Sansa sighed deeply. "I think I know a way to help the pain go away a bit."

Sandor raised his good eyebrow at her. "What do you mean?"

"Frema told me about it and I think it will work. Come to bed please."

Sandor wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or run away from the little bird, yet he did neither. He stood up and did as she asked him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Sansa got into bed and knelt behind him.

"Sansa, what are you going- "

"Shhh," she purred into his ear. "You have to relax for this to work."

Sandor was intrigued, so he held his tongue as he felt Sansa's hand on his shoulders, beginning to gently massage the tired muscles of his shoulder blades. Her hands were so gentle and delicate that she had to squeeze a bit hard for him to actually feel her working on him, and though this felt more strange than nice, he closed his eyes, picturing what Sansa must look like behind him, and stifling a shudder whenever one of her fingers would casually caress the nape of his neck.

When Sansa was done she asked him nervously how he felt, and he didn't lie when he replied, "Better."

Sansa beamed at him before he rasped, "It's your turn, little bird."

"Oh!" she said. "It wasn't… I did not… All right then."

They exchanged places, and as he knelt behind her, Sandor suddenly felt nervous. He'd never done anything like this and didn't want his huge hands to hurt or break the little bird's body, so as delicately as he could manage, he placed Sansa's braid in front of her and began to knead the muscles of her shoulders gently. After some moments he found that his hands had strayed to her upper arms and collarbone, as he moved them back and forth, his long fingers splayed over her upper body. He could feel that both Sansa, by her straight position, and Sandor, by the sudden tension throbbing in his cock, were tense and he understood that somewhere along the way in the matter of a few heart beats, things had changed.

The dangerous idea of how it would feel to cup her breasts strayed into his mind, refusing to leave him, driving him to caress Sansa with circular movements, the tips of his fingers lingering just above her breasts, pressing harder than he intended.

Instead of telling him to stop or stepping away from him in disgust and fear, the little bird remained seated, leaning into his touch as a little moan of pleasure escaped her, making his cock hardened further, pressing against her back.

Fucking bleeding buggering hells! He thought as he realized what he'd been doing. He released Sansa, a bit startled that he had provoked that sound from her, and couldn't believe it when she turned her body around and looked at his face.

"Thank you," was all she said, a little satisfactory smile playing on her lips, before she stood up and began to blow the candles out, leaving him kneeling on the bed, aroused and utterly unprepared for this.

The following morning Sansa and Frema were buying at the market besides the largest bathhouse in the city, some salted fish, hard bread, eggs, barely, turnips, beans and lemons (Medra the innkeep was finally going to make Sansa some lemon cakes) and spices Medra had asked them to get for dinner that night when Frema remarked, "You're very quiet, Alys. Is something amiss?" Alys was her pet name for Alysanne, what she believed Sansa was called.

Sansa shook her head, breaking out of her reverie about last night and the feel of Sandor's rough yet gentle hands upon her. He has never touched me like that before, she thoughts. We almost kissed in the common room of that inn, but only because I started it, and not even when we had our pillow fight did he touch me. Yet yesterday…

Sansa had offered to knead his tense tired muscles because she wanted him to feel better, and only once or twice had she dare caress his neck, yet when his warm hands began to stray over to her collarbone and chest, moving lower, rubbing her, her heart had begun to beat wildly. The things she was beginning to feel had made her dizzy and breathless, and just when Sansa had been sure she couldn't hold in her breath a moment longer, a moan had escaped her lips. Once she would have died of shame at having a grown man hear that sound coming from her, but she'd lived too long with Sandor to feel ashamed about that. Sansa had felt him tense behind her immediately after and he had removed his hands from her, yet she knew that there had to be a reason for him to have started things this time!

"Amiss?" Sansa repeated, looking at Frema. "Oh no, of course not sweet Frema. I was just thinking…"

"About something good dare I say?"

Sansa bit her lip, a gesture which reminded her of her little sister Arya. "I'm not so sure," she began.

"Does it have to do with Edric?" Frema asked, smiling, without any preamble.

Sansa stared wide-eyed at the older girl. "How do you know?"

Frema laughed. "Because beside him there isn't anyone for you to trouble your pretty little head over for."

Sansa tried to laugh along with Frema, though it was less than convinving since she considered this to be an important matter.

"What has he done?" Frema said.

"I… He hasn't…" she stammered, before regaining her composure. Come on, you've been living with the man for months and now you can do nothing but stammer?" "Frema, what does Vintos make you feel?"

Frema blinked at her. "What?"

"I mean… when you two are alone. Does he… does he do something to make you love him or… Is there some special particular thing he… How did you know he was the right man for you?"

Frema was too good a friend to laugh at Sansa's struggles, but she did put a hand on her shoulder, in understanding. That's where Sandor touched me last night, Sansa couldn't help but think.

"Alys, I know you and Edric aren't married, but still, you do know what goes on in a marriage bed, don't you?"

Sansa thought of so many little moments with Sandor and nodded, not so sure she knew exactly.

Before Frema could go on however, a small group of people began to rush past them whispering and pointing excitedly at the corner of the street.

"What is happening?" Sansa wondered out loud, but Ferma could only shake her head.

Just then a golden litter appeared in the middle of the small group of people, decorated with beautiful light blue silk hangings, reminding Sansa of a similar litter the Imp Tyrion Lannister had owned to transport his small self around King's Landing.

There was nothing small about this litter though. Sansa and Ferma watched, as curious as everybody else, until the litter passed right before them, and Sansa saw a very handsome man parting the curtains with his hand to get a good look at the world outside his litter. Their eyes met and Sansa saw that, where her own eyes were as blue as a sunlit sea, this man's eyes were the striking color of blue topaz. The man smiled and inclined his head at her, and then the litter passed them by.

"Who was that?" she heard Ferma say.

"A very handsome nobleman to be sure," Sansa replied.

"Oh yes I could certainly see that… Where was I?"

"You were going to tell me about what goes on in a marriage bed," Sansa said. Even saying the words brought a blush to her face.

Yet it seemed that fate didn't want her to learn the answer to that question that day, for again they were interrupted before Frema could go on, though now the cause of it was one of Medra's little boys.

"Mother sends me to fetch you home," he told them breathlessly, making them giggle.

"Tell her we will be there in a moment," Frema told the boy.

Yet he shook his head. "Mother said that I couldn't return until I brought you two back with me."

Sansa gave out a resigned sigh and said, "We can't have that happening. Lead the way, we'll follow…"

By the time they returned to the Three Bells Inn, Sansa was feeling excited as she recalled there would be lemoncakes tonight, and the thought of how good they would taste drove what had happened between her and Sandor off her mind… for a little while at least, since she was determined to learn as much as Frema was willing to tell her.

A/N: Thank you to all of you who read, comment, favor, follow or send me PM! Your kind words mean the world to me :D