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 ;)
*To the Betas: swiftsnowmane, onborrowedwings & gingerbeer48, as always, I could not have done this without you. Thank you for helping me out :D
- 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.
Chapter 15: The Namedays
When Sansa woke up on the morning of their namedays' celebrations the first thing she became aware of was that there was a heavy weight crushing her belly. Blinking, she only had to move her neck a little bit to realize that Sandor had sometime in the night curled against her to the point that he was hugging her, as he rested his head on her tummy. Sansa lay still in the bed, not daring to move, instantly treasuring this moment. What a nice way to start this day, she thought drowsily. Though Sandor was one of the biggest men she had ever seen, the weight of him on her didn't bother her. Sansa even smiled then as she noticed that they had been sleeping holding hands. She looked at the back of his head and at the sight of his imposing shoulder blades for some time.
He is muscled like a bull in the prime of his life! She mused. She knew he could cut men in two with a single swing of his sword, and he would probably be able to crush a man to death with a hug, or break someone's neck or hand with his powerful strength, yet Sansa had come to know Sandor so well that whenever she took in his towering height and muscular arms, she saw far beyond the menacing exterior. Instead she saw how well-built he was, and she was marveled at how a man of such immense size and strength could treat her with a delicacy that was hard to believe at times.
Now that she thought about it though, it felt really nice to think that a man as feared as Sandor could and would warm up to her and her alone like this, lying here with her in such closeness. For the first time Sansa found herself comparing Sandor to her father, and she wondered if her lady mother had ever woken up to find her husband sleeping almost on top of her like this.
Sandor's snores told her that he was still fast asleep, which gave her the courage to bring her free hand towards him. Softly so as not to wake him, Sansa began to run her fingers through his dark hair which was covering his burns. Then, her hand slipped down to the back of his neck as she began to caress with her fingertips little circles on Sandor's warm skin. When Sandor shifted a bit in his embrace, Sansa stopped and waited until he stopped moving. When he did she felt that he had moved his head a bit upwards so that now the top of his head was brushing against her breasts.
Sansa's heart began to flutter at that, as her conscience fought against her heart. A warm feeling between her legs made it harder to breathe then, yet ever since that morning in Pentos when Sansa had woken up to see Sandor's bare muscled chest, this feeling was starting to become familiar. You shouldn't be allowing this, Sansa. He is not your husband. But if he isn't, then why does this feel so right? Why do I want him to stay there? Why is this feeling of belonging here right now with him claiming overriding my senses?
Such musings led her to the conclusion that the time had come to settle the matter that had began that night they had spent in the inn near Norvos when they had almost kissed. I'm going to ask him to kiss me tonight as a gift, she decided, trying not to allow her thoughts to wander to what that could mean or evoke as consequences. I want my first kiss, and I want it with him…
When Sandor finally turned around to his side, freeing her as he went on sleeping, Sansa got up and tiptoed to the living room. She dressed in the most beautiful gown she had as quickly as possible, fearing Sandor would wake up, and wished longingly for a handmaiden to help her with the laces of the dress. After cleaning her face, mouth and hands she brushed her long hair until it sprang into curls, and stepped outside the house, smiling as she saw Medra's twins waiting near the door with empty buckets all around them. She had asked them if they could help her out with preparing a bath she wished to take early in the morning, and judging by the dark shadows under their eyes, she regretted not telling them the exact time, since it looked like they had been out here for a while.
"Thank you for helping me with this," she told them with all honesty as they began to walk over to the water pump, a bucket in each hand.
She returned to the house and closed the door before walking over to the bedroom to find that Sandor was still sleeping. What a contrast to our first morning here! She thought, amused. Sandor still did wake up every time the bells of Norvos rang, yet now he was able to fall back to sleep after the one that announced dawn sounded.
Sansa stretched across the length of the bed and rested on her elbow as she began to tickle Sandor's ear to wake him up. The good side of his face was to her, so she took this time to once again gaze intently at his features. For a moment she wondered what it would be like if she could stay with Sandor as he enjoyed his first surprise, running her hands across his bare back, hearing the tinkling of the water dripping down to the floor… For a wild moment she considered nibbling his ear lobe, but didn't. If I do that I'll scare the living daylights out of him. So instead Sansa settled with breathing in the musky wild and earthy smell of Sandor as her eyes lingered a bit too long on his lips, imagining what it would be like to kiss them. I'll know soon enough.
Sandor began to make some sounds that reminded her of a bear as he waved her hand away from his ear with his.
"Sandor," she purred into his good ear.
"Hmm?" he said, barely waking up.
"Sandor, wake up. The day of our namedays has arrived!" she whispered, as she kept on tickling his ear.
Sandor's eyes finally sprang open at that and when he seemed to understand what she had said, he swore quietly and stretched a bit in bed.
"Bloody hells, little bird! Stop that tickling!" he growled. "If this is supposedly our namedays, why are you making me wake up so early?"
Sansa laughed and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. "Honestly Sandor, what a fine way to wish me a happy nameday!"
At her kiss he turned around his neck to get a good look at her face, noticing along the way that she was dressed up and ready.
"Happy nameday, Sansa."
"Happy nameday, Sandor!" she replied, cheerfully. "Now, you really must wake up because the first of my gifts for you today is nearly ready."
Sandor rubbed the sleep from his eyes and said, "And what's that?"
"I've prepared all the arrangements so that you can relax and take a bath here in the tub!"
"What?" he barked, looking at her as if she were speaking in another tongue.
"Well, I realized that you haven't had a proper bath ever since we left King's Landing, washing all this time in rivers, streams, or water pumps besides some well. Aside from that one time in the Bathhouse at Pentos, you haven't taken a good long warm bath in a tub, so I prepared one for you! While you bathe I'm going to go to Vintos and Frema's."
Sandor's eyes had widened more and more as she went on to explain her first gift, and when she finished, he just sat there in bed, looking at her. Finally though he said, "You've really put a lot of thought into this… thing we're having today, haven't you?"
"Yes I have," she said, unconcerned with how strange he thought her at present. She threw her arms around him and gave him a hug, whispering, "I hope you enjoy your nameday, Sandor."
Before he could do anything she was off the bed in a graceful move and already at the doorframe of the bedroom. Sansa turned to look at Sandor's startled face once again and said, "Medra's twins are going to bring the hot water in a moment. Please don't scare them. Take all the time you need with the bath, and when you are done we'll exchange our presents!"
Sandor was sitting in the copper tub, enjoying the warm bath Sansa had prepared for him more than he would have believed possible. The morning was a bit chilly, so it felt good to be inside this early in the morning, relaxing and taking his time with his bloody bath. He hadn't given a thought about how long it had been since he had done this, so the realization that the little bird had, insignificant as it was, meant a lot to him. No one had ever done the things Sansa did for him.
I needed this, he reflected as he scrubbed his back. And the little bird knew it. Sandor tried very hard not to regret or imagine what it would feel like to have Sansa taking this bath with him, but it was not good. When his cock began to harden thanks to those visions inside his head, Sandor reluctantly reminded himself for the hundredth time to not go down that road. But it was hard when he recalled how he had woken up this morning. He hadn't been hugging the little bird tightly as he often did, yet the close intimacy they lived had still been there as he woke up not by the sound of one of Norvos' fucking bells, but by the soft tickling of Sansa's hand on his ear. Sandor had been loathe to wake up, warm and snug as he was under the covers, yet he had enjoyed having Sansa's voice whispering softly in his ear that it was time to start the day, more than he would have thought possible. And then, when he'd turned around to face her as she explained to him her first gift, the urge to kiss her and hug her close to him had been so great that all he had managed to do instead was look at her strangely. If only I could wake up to the sight of Sansa's face and the merry sound of her voice all the days of my life, he wished, sighing. Yet of course, pleasures such as there were something destined for the man she would one day marry, so unless he wanted to torment himself, he ought not to think of the tomorrows that would never come.
Instead he tried to calm his bleeding nerves as he tried to imagine Sansa's reactions to the gift he'd had made for her, and the outdoor trip Frema had helped him plan. Sure, Vintos and his connections had been of a great help, and Frema had practically come up with the whole idea in the first place, yet it had still felt awkward and uncomfortable to ask them to help him out with this. I can go into battle without so much as a flicker of fear, yet when it came to ask his neighbors for suggestions, he had felt uncomfortable. Who would have ever thought I would be planning such a thing like today for a girl?
Yet Sansa was not just some girl to him of course. He loved her, body and soul, for whatever that was worth. He loved her in a way that he had never thought he would ever experience, or even be capable of feeling. Sandor had come to admit this to himself some time ago, and seeing how happy she was with the prospect of celebrating their buggering namedays together had resigned him to go through with the plans Frema had come up with for them for today. Sandor did think Sansa would enjoy it all, yet his nerves and apprehensions were not an easy thing to shake off.
After he had dressed, he went outside and crossed the cobblestone courtyard to Vintos and Frema's. If they had ever wondered if Sandor and Sansa- or Edric and Alysanne as they believed them to be called- really did have their namedays on the same day, they at least had never remarked on it. Nor had Vintos said anything about the treatment he'd received when Sandor pushed him against the wall at the blacksmith's when he told him of Sansa's injury. Yet Sandor hadn't needed Sansa to tell him that he should apologize to him. Sansa said Vintos probably hadn't told Frema about Sandor's behavior, for which Sandor was grateful since he needed Frema to be around to keep Sansa company when he wasn't there. Yesterday afternoon he had gone to Vintos as he was leaving for work and told him, with a little grudging tone to his voice he couldn't make go away, that he was sorry for treating him the way he did when Vintos had only helped them out. Vintos was a decent enough man Sandor had admit, even more grudgingly, and patted the man hard in the back before he walked away.
Sansa greeted him at the door and took his hand to lead him to the common room where they could enjoy their breakfast. The little bird kept throwing quick glances at him and talked about everything and nothing, as she tried to eat her food as quickly as possible, anxious for the gift exchange. Frema and Vintos were taking their presents from their house to Sandor and Sansa's while they were in the common room, Sansa said as she ate her duck eggs and bacon. When they were done, Medra told Sansa that the basket with the cooking she'd done the day earlier was ready and Sansa thank her kindly and said they would be back for it in a short while.
When he and Sansa returned to their house they saw that their presents were piled up on the dining room's table. The little bird looked up at him with the biggest smile he'd ever seen in her face and took his hand again to lead him to the table.
"Can I start?" she chirped.
"Sure," he nodded, wondering what Sansa had come up with now. So far the fact that she had cooked the meal they would be enjoying later today and the bath seemed like gifts enough to him.
The little bird grabbed a big parcel with a blue bow and hugged it tightly before presenting it to him. When Sansa presented it to him, Sandor began ripping apart the paper. Sansa gave a squeak at that but he didn't hear it, since by then he had already seen his gift. An astonishingly good quality scabbard was in his hands, and Sandor could not help but laugh to see what Sansa had come up with! He had been thinking of getting one himself soon, so it was indeed a very pleasant surprise to see that the little bird had thought of it first. There were no designs in it, as he would have chosen, yet the polished dark wood looked beautiful. For a moment he wondered which jewels Sansa had sold to get him this, but chose not to comment on it since he knew she would not like it. Sandor didn't even remember the last time he'd bought a scabbard, yet he was glad to see that this one looked like it would serve just as well as his old one.
Sandor looked over at the little bird, who was watching his reactions with a nervous look on her pretty face, as she bit her full red lips and played with a lock of her hair unconsciously, which just made it all the more alluring to him.
"Sansa, this is…" he began, trying to find the words to let her know that he appreciated her gift very much. "This is… fine work, little bird. Very beautiful."
She nodded her head before taking another package from the table, which had a green bow. "It goes along with this," she said, offering him his second gift.
Sandor looked at her incredulously, wondering again how much all of these must have cost her, but took the parcel from her hands once more. When he saw the new sword belt, she Sandor was overwhelmed. He left his new things on the table delicately before he cupped Sansa's face and said, "Those gifts mean a great deal, little bird, yet I don't deserve so much. I-"
Sansa quieted him by putting a hand on his chest, over his heart. She looked at the place where her pale hand now rested and said, "I know you better than anyone else, Sandor Clegane, and not only do you deserve these things, you deserve a lot more."
He snorted at that, but brushed his callused thumb along her soft cheekbone, staring deep into her eyes, thanking her.
"It's time for your gift, little bird."
Sansa laughed and began to look excited at his words, so he took her hand from his heart and placed it on the big box that was on the table. Sansa brought her other hand to it and began to caress the box's surface in a strange way, as if wanting this moment to never pass by. When she finally began to unwrap her gift as delicately and slowly as possible, Sandor stifled the instinct of rolling his eyes at her fondness for unwrapping presents as if they were delicate living things one must handle with great care. The time it took her to finally open her present seemed an eternity to Sandor's strained and excited nerves.
"Gods be good," Sansa whispered, looking over at Sandor, her mouth open in a big O. "Sandor…"
Sandor grinned down at her, even though he knew his face would only look more hideous, he couldn't help but smile widely at her reaction, his eyes boring into hers. Sansa stifled a little sound and turned her eyes back to her gift. Her hands now caressed the white fur, and when she brought it out of the box, Sandor was pleased at how nice the fur-trimmed jacket looked. He had seen the little bird many times admiring the gowns, coats and jackets the women from the High City wore whenever they visited the Low City. It had been the same in Pentos and even King's Landing, when the Lannister bastards had not even seen fit to present Sansa with new clothes, even though it was evident to everyone how quickly she was growing, due to her height and how her breasts began to strain against her tight gown. It had been a surprisingly entertaining experience shopping for Sansa's clothes with her in Pentos, and in those days he had tried to learn the sort of things the little bird liked best, so when Frema offered him her help, they went to ask Vintos (who conveniently worked at a weaver's shop) if he could manage to have someone make him a white fur trimmed cloak that resembled the jackets the rich ladies of Norvos wore, he knew- or at least dared hope Frema knew- what would please his little bird.
Sansa hugged the winter-coat to her, and Sandor, without really knowing why, said, "Let's see if it fits you."
And before Sansa could blink at him he stood behind her, and swept the cloak over her shoulders. Then, as he leaned forward to fasten the clasp, he tenderly kissed her warm cheek. He had never kissed her out of instinct before. It was the first time that he did this. When kisses on the cheek happened between them, Sansa was always the one to give them, yet now he felt comfortable enough in his knowledge that she would not shy away from him to do it.
In fact, Sansa did the contrary of shying away. Her head moved closer to his, but he stepped away, instead caressing the little scar on her forehead. My brave little bird.
"Sandor, I love it. Thank you, it is… so beautiful," he heard her say.
"It's to replace the one that was ruined in the Kingswood, remember?" he said, as he looked at her.
Sansa laughed and brought her hand to cup his scratchy beard. "I do, and I promise to take better care of this one."
"Fair enough, for I'll do the same with the new scabbard and sword belt… Come, little bird, I think it's best if we start our trip as soon as possible."
That had her growing excited again and she clapped her hands in eagerness. "I couldn't agree more! Just let me put away the cloak."
Sandor unbuckled his sword belt and took his sword from his old scabbard, exchanging them for his new things, and was pleased to see Sansa approved of the sight after she returned from hanging her cloak in the little wardrobe they shared.
Sandor opened the door to their house for her, as Medra's daughter came towards them, the basket that contained their food under her arm. He gulped as he imagined what Sansa would think of what Frema had convinced him to arrange and could only hope she would like it as much as she did the fur-trimmed coat…
Sansa walked beside Sandor through the cobbled streets of the Low City. She was very excited because from now on she had no idea what would happen next. It had fallen on Sandor to come up with this outing and he meant to keep it a surprise from her for as long as possible. So instead of trying to figure out where they were heading, Sansa looked back on the gift exchange that had just occurred moments before. She was thoroughly relieved to see that Sandor had liked her gifts and had not been able to express how much his gift had meant to her.
She had owned expensive garments almost all her life- the finest silks and velvets in the world, made with laces from Myr and Lys, and woven in Oldtown, so it had been easy for her to see that Sandor's gift must have cost him even more than what both his presents had cost her. She had considered for a fleeting moment to tell him that this was too much, yet knowing he would get cross at that, Sansa kept her thoughts on her gift's price silent, instead marveling at how beautiful the fur-trimmed coat was. Sandor had known, just as she had with him, what would please her. I'll keep my word. I'll treasure the coat forever.
The fur-trimmed coat made her recall her last nameday in Winterfell as well, and of how happy she'd been when her mother gave her a beautiful blue dress as a present. I wore that gown the day King Robert's party arrived in Winterfell. The day I first saw Sandor. That was the time when she had only had eyes for Joffrey, though. My beautiful fickle golden prince. Sansa would have found it strange that she could no longer recall exactly how Joffrey looked like, had she not also had trouble these days to at times remember her family's faces. If I didn't look so much like mother I may also not remember her, she realized, worried.
Shaking her head to forget such painful and delicate memories, Sansa began to notice her surroundings once again, and frowned as she remarked to Sandor, "We've come this way before once. Remember? On the day that we saw the elephant."
"I do," he said, and refused to say another word.
"Are we going to the river?" she asked him to no avail. Sansa tried to come up with as many possibilities as she could. Yet she didn't have to wonder much for soon enough Sandor stopped in the middle of a stone bridge they'd been crossing, and said, "I'm going to blindfold you now, little bird."
Sansa quickly looked up at him with disbelief as Sandor grinned wickedly at her, taking out a dark blue scarf from one of his pockets.
"Why?" she asked, incredulous.
"Because I don't want you to know where we are heading to for as long as I can keep it from you."
"Oh," was all she had time to say before Sandor turned her around so her back faced him. Her tummy tightened into a knot just as all the nerves in her body began to tickle her. Sansa could feel her heartbeat racing as Sandor tied the scarf around her head in a firm fold. Sansa placed her hands on top of his to feel the textile on her face, but Sandor took her hands away and whispered in her ear, "We are not far now. Just trust me and you won't fall."
Sansa nodded, too overcome for words. She felt Sandor's hand closing around her arm, and she leaned closer to him, dependent on all his decisions now, yet Sansa knew she was safe.
They walked through more streets, turning left at times and then to the right, until Sansa finally heard the sound of the Noyne about her.
"That's the river! I knew we were heading there," she exclaimed, happily. Will he take me to see the elephant up close?
Sandor laughed beside her. "You are a clever little bird… Come now, step carefully here."
Sansa felt the soft ground beneath her, so fearing she would slip, she took a stronger hold of Sandor's arm. I hope I don't fall and ruin my dress, she thought.
"We are ready," Sandor said suddenly.
"Me as well," responded a stranger's voice in the Norvoshi Valyrian she didn't master all that well. "Do you need a hand?"
"With the basket," Sandor answered as he suddenly swept her off the ground and carried her in his arms.
Sansa gasped and clung to him as she heard the sound of Sandor's heavy boots hitting a wooden floor. Together they swayed for a moment on the spot, making Sansa realize that they were on a boat.
She remarked that to Sandor and asked him yet again where they were going.
"It's not far now. Wait a moment and sit here."
Sansa lifted her head up in the directions she thought Sandor was standing. "We are in a boat, right? How did you ever find it?" she asked him incredulously. "Because if we are going to eat here I should probably take off the scarf."
"Vintos introduced me to the man who owns this, and the man suggested the place where we are heading to as somewhere you might like. And don't take off that scarf. I'll do it when it's the right time."
"But I'm going to miss the surroundings!" she pointed out, pouting.
Sandor rasped a laugh. If she didn't know Sandor so well, it would have scared her to be near a man who had such a voice and whom she could not see.
"You'll see it all on the journey back."
They were silent after that for some time, so Sansa lost herself in the sounds of the river below her, and of the ones all around her from nature. The gentle motions of the barge made her feel sleepy, but she shook the feeling away and heard her belly rumbling. I really hope I cooked something decent enough to eat, she thought nervously.
Just then a light and distant thunder sounded far away, and Sandor and the man Sansa pictured as standing in front of them with a long pole swore out loud.
"We've arrived but you won't be able to stay for a long time," the man told them.
"I figured that out," Sandor replied. "Well, I think we can take off the scarf, little bird."
Sansa felt Sandor shift around on his seat and a moment later she was no longer blind. She blinked a couple of times and gasped at the beautiful place Sandor had brought her, to, staring in awe at all the natural splendor around her. Small green hills surrounded the Noyne, making this particular place appear to be the bottom of a valley. In the distance, she could see the beautiful mountain of the Daughter Noyne, at its peak one could barely distinguish the Bearded Priests temple, its golden dome shining bright even at this distance. A golden clearing covered with tall grass that reminded Sansa of the wheat fields she'd visited once with her family, and this was where Sandor conducted her to after he had helped her from the boat and told the man to wait for them. The man took out a fishing rod and paid them no more mind.
Sansa gazed all around her, falling in love with the beautiful landscape, the pine woods, and mountains beyond. As they walked through the woods toward the clearing, she was delighted to hear the sweet sound of the birds singing to each other in the trees, and laughed when a dragonfly flew around Sandor's head, to his great annoyance. This is an enchantment.
"Sandor look!" she exclaimed as she caught sight of a fawn standing in fright at the sound of their approach, squeezing Sandor's arm since she had not let go of it all this time.
"Would you like it for dinner, little bird?" he asked her, sneering.
"Of course not!" she said, appalled.
Sandor laughed and said, "Here will do."
He dropped the basket and settled down on the grass, crossed-legged and Sansa happily began to take out the food she'd prepared the day before and the dishes.
"Medra recommended this to me," Sansa explained as she knelt as gracefully as she could on the ground as well. "Its capon covered with a relish of carrots and bits of lime and orange."
Sandor looked at her in surprise and approval. "And you did it all by yourself, did you?"
Sansa threw him a sideway glance. "Yes I did. Medra and Frema helped me out only with cutting the carrots and such."
"Well, I'll serve the wine then," he said, producing the skin of red wine from the basket and serving her a wooden cup first before he drank from his.
As she cut the capon onto two different wooden plates, Sansa's mind wandered back to a day long ago when she was little and had helped her mother with the cooking. Lady Catelyn had been expecting Bran, and Sansa had been but a little girl and Arya a fierce babe.
It was a nice memory. Sansa remembered she had been with Septa Mordane when her mother had appeared at the door of her nursery and told her that they were going to have some fun and cook for her father who was returning home after visiting the mountain clans. As they cooked, strong little Arya had thrown a bowl of flour at Mother and in the end they had had a wonderful fight with it. Robb and Theon along with all the kitchen boys and girls had ended up joining them in the fun. Jon walked away after Mother said something to him, Sansa remembered sadly.
Father had returned to find his wife, daughters and sons, and household covered from head to foot in white, and laughed wholeheartedly all evening as he ate the roast they'd prepared for him. But other than that day, Sansa hadn't cooked a thing since. And I don't think that one really counts…
"It's ready. You try it first," she said nervously, handing the plate to Sandor.
When Sandor ate the first bite Sansa was sure she could not bear her nerves any longer so before he had even swallowed, she asked him what he thought of it.
"It's bloody good, little bird," Sandor said, arching his eyebrows in appreciation.
"Really?" Sansa asked incredulous, and when Sandor nodded she brought the fork with the capon to her mouth and ate it. The first thing she tasted was the sour fruit, followed by the crunchy carrots, tender raisins and cold delicious fish.
"Gods be good!" she remarked, happily. "Sandor, I can cook!"
Sandor laughed at her at that, his mouth twitching, and even leaned forward to brush a lock of hair away from her face.
Hours later after they had explored their surroundings, Sansa was resting on the big blanket they'd brought along, looking up at the sky and the tops of the small hills from the middle of the yellow clearing. Sandor was sitting cross-legged beside her, as he admired his new scabbard and sword belt.
They were both apparently comfortable with the present silence, so Sansa began to marvel at just how small people were in this big wide world, since she mused that not in a hundred years would she have believed she would be celebrating her nameday besides the river Noyne deep in the Hills of Norvos, with the reassuring sound of Sandor's sword being honed beside her.
"Sandor…"
"Yes?"
"Do you know what this place reminds me of?"
"How would I know? The Kingswood?"
She shook her head. "No… It reminds me of the banner of House Clegane you once told me… how the three hounds from your sigil died in the yellow of autumn grass."
Sandor looked up from his work at her.
"Thank you for this," she told him, looking over at him intently. "I am enjoying my nameday very much."
Sandor sat there in front of her, his swords in his hands and for a long moment he didn't say anything.
"Me too, little bird," he finally said, at long last.
That made her smile. She lay there on the grass looking up at Sandor, and noticed how his eyes traveled from her legs up to her face. For some reason Sansa began to consider the possibility of asking him to kiss her now instead of later when they returned home. So she shifted around and straightened up, stretching in what she supposed was a seductive pose. She knelt on the blanket and was about to open her mouth, when there was another crash of thunder, and in the blink of an eye a light rain began to fall.
"Shit!" Sandor cursed in his raspy voice, as he stood up and looked around for shelter under the nearest tree, sliding his sword into its new scabbard. Sansa laughed as a sudden thought seized her. She hadn't done this in a long time, and even back then it had been snowflakes and not rain, but she nonetheless stood up and said, "It's just a little bit of rain, Sandor. Come, let's have some fun."
"What?" he asked her, raising his eyebrow.
Sansa stood up and began to twirl around, not caring that she must probably look a bit silly, dancing and laughing under the rain. As she danced, the rain came down even harder, soaking her hair and her dress. Grinning, she caught Sandor's eye. He was staring at her.
She began to sing the haunting song of Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies.
"You'll catch a bloody cold," Sandor said gruffly after some moments, collecting their things into the basket. "And the man is going to row away without us. You heard what he said. Besides, it's getting darker. I can swear I hear the fucking bell that announces dusk and by the time we reach The Three Bells night will have fallen."
Sansa reluctantly stopped at that, and laughed merrily as she caught sight of Sandor, waiting there, all drenched, looking at her with an ardor that made her feel giddy as his eyes ran over her with a hungry look. Oh gods, she thought, following his gaze. She realized that her dress was now sticking to her skin, outlining the curves of her body prominently, and her hair plastered to her face. She began to shiver, though whether if it was out of the cold or due to the way Sandor was looking at her, Sansa could not be sure. He was staring her down with something akin to ardor and desire in his tormented grey eyes, and the shocking sight of her nipples standing out made her unable to do anything but stand there in wonder and nervous excitement. He is staring straight at my breasts. Sandor's mouth began to twitch slightly as the thought of hugging herself so she could keep her decency crossed her mind, since that was what a lady would do in such a situation. But for once Sansa Stark did not care about being a lady. So she had stood with her arms to her side, letting Sandor drink in the sight of her. It might make him more willing to grant me my request later tonight, she thought, as she stared at his lips, aching to kiss them, burn skin and all.
"Let's go," Sandor rasped all of a sudden, gulping, breaking the moment. He walked very stiffly back to the edge of the river, Sansa close behind him, blushing fiercely.
When the man who had rowed them saw them, he began to shout at them to hurry. Sandor handed him the basket and helped Sansa on to the boat, then followed her on board. They sat side by side as the man grabbed his pole again; Sansa cast one last look at the lovely place of their outing, now covered in a mist of low-hanging mountain clouds.
Perhaps it was because they were a little embarrassed by what had just happened, as neither of them said much for some time. The journey back to the Low City seemed to take longer than before, but Sansa was glad of it. The light rain ceased soon after they left the clearing, and after some time Sansa noticed that she and Sandor had nestled her closer to each other, craving each other's warmth. Sandor felt her trembling beside her, her teeth chattering, so he took out the blanket they'd used earlier for a mantelpiece and covered her shoulders with it, as he also brought his arm around her shoulders.
Sansa laid her head against his shoulder and ignored the unbelieving look the man in front of them gave them. She sighed against the rough fabric of Sandor's tunic and said, "Now our best clothes are ruined…"
Sandor chuckled sourly as he looked about him. The sky was grey to be sure, but the hills were still green and the river was calm. Sansa brushed her hand along the surface of the water all the way back to the city. Resting her head on Sandor's shoulder, she took in the beautiful sight of this part of the world they had visited, treasuring in her heart all the moments of this day so that in the future when she was feeling lost, she could remember this day and how much she had shared with Sandor…
When Sansa and Sandor had nearly reached The Three Bells, Sansa was feeling fidgety and nervous as the thought of how she would ask Sandor to kiss her went round and round her head. If I do not do it now I might never find the courage. Sandor seemed oblivious to her dilemma, for he laughed wholeheartedly as he told her how unsure he'd been to follow Frema's counsel on what she would like to do in their nameday. Sansa smiled and looked up at Sandor as they turned the corner to the street of the inn.
"What is it?" Sandor asked her, as he finally noticed that something was wrong with her.
Sansa looked quickly at her feet and stopped right there in the middle of the street, under a lantern. She took a deep breath to steady herself. What are you waiting for, Sansa Stark? Do it now. The time has come. "Sandor… would you do something for me if I asked you to?"
Sandor took a hold of her chin and brought her face up to meet his. "You know I would do anything you ask and more, little bird- so long as you ask me while you look at me, not the floor. What do you want?"
Sansa gulped, her heart beating fast, as she fleetingly wondered how it didn't burst when she was feeling so many things. She placed her hand on his arm, stepping closer to him, and whispered, "Will you- ?"
"Alysanne!" someone called, and Sandor and Sansa turned around towards the inn in surprise. Sansa gasped as she saw that Arman Nervere, the handsome magister of Norvos was waving to her and walking towards them, a smile on his face.
Sandor looked at the magister as if he could not believe this man had just intruded on them, as Sansa stepped away from Sandor and forced a smile to come to her face. Normally, she would have been embarrassed at her disheveled state, but all she could think was… I was so close!
"Arman! How nice to see you again, but goodness, what are you doing here at this late hour?" she replied in the Common Tongue.
Magister Nervere had now reached them, but stopped suddenly when he looked at Sandor's face. Sansa saw something flickering in his eyes before he took her hand and kissed it.
"I was waiting for you, in truth," he confessed, as Sandor rasped in the Common Tongue, following her lead, "And who the bloody hell are you?"
Before the magister could reply Sansa interrupted him and answered, "Edric, may I have the honor to present you Arman Nervere, one of the High Magisters of Great Norvos, and the man who helped me the day before yesterday…"
Sandor looked at Sansa and then at Magister Nervere, remembering what she had told him of this nobleman. Sansa went on, "And Arman, this is my most loyal friend and faithful companion, Edric."
"I am honored to have the privilege to meet a valiant steel knight of the Sunset Kingdoms," Magister Nervere put in.
Gods be good, Sansa thought as she heard those words. He could not have said something worse! Sansa didn't have to look at Sandor to know how angry he was. Somehow she could sense it.
Sandor's voice was rough and hard as an iron grasp as he growled, "Did you hear the girl call me a knight? I advise you not to call me a "ser" if you don't want trouble."
"I can see that Lady Alysanne has a very fierce protector and friend in you, Edric as plainly as I can see the kiss of the Lord of Light in your face…" the magister responded, in a tone that didn't seem at all as if Sandor had intimidated him at all.
Sandor's hand went to the pommel of his sword and he, in a rasping, raucous laughter which sounded in part a rumble and in part a snarl, remarked, "Saw the burns, did you?"
Magister Nervere looked knowingly at Sandor and with a sly smile, turned back to Sansa. "My lady, I'm pleased to see that your cut is healing nicely."
"Thank you, Arman," Sansa replied, shuddering not due to her still wet clothes, but at the mention of the Lord of Light and at how he had said that about Sandor's being kissed by the flames.
The magister seemed to get a closer look at her and Sandor and said, "Goodness, you two look as if you had fallen right into the Noyne!"
Sansa truly smiled at last as she remembered today and thinking how odd she and Sandor must look, drenched from head to foot, and her, wrapped up in an old wet blanket.
"Something of the sort," she replied… "Excuse me Arman, but you said you were waiting for me, though. What is it?"
The magister flicked his fingers and a servant that had been standing near his litter came running to his side, a sealed envelope in his hand.
"I've come to invite you to dine with me tomorrow at my house. If you would be so kind as to accept… Edric, of course the invitation is not limited to Lady Alysanne alone. You are cordially invited as well."
"Oh," Sansa said, surprised. I must accept, she realized. He is one of the richest and most powerful men in this city… Yet she looked over at Sandor, who was staring at her and Magister Nervere both with an angry expression; the very same one that had scared her countless of times in King's Landing. She was afraid again, not of Sandor, but for him. It could be dangerous to enter the High City and risk being seen by someone with connections to Dorne.
"Arman, I- I am honored, truly, but I do not think-"
"Please, it will only be for a few hours," the magister pointed out, his blue eyes sparkling brightly.
"We'll go," Sandor said, suddenly.
Sansa glanced at him quickly but Sandor was still glaring at Magister Nervere with a thunderous look in his grey eyes, so she looked down at her feet, not pleased.
"Excellent!" the magister exclaimed, handing Sandor the envelope with his invitation. "I shall have my palanquin sent for you tomorrow at midday."
Sansa saw that Magister Nervere was smiling at her genuinely, looking very handsome, so she tried to return the gesture by doing the same, but her smile was only half-felt. Her heart, which had been happy and excitedly nervous moments ago, was now sad because she had a bad feeling about the way Sandor would react to this, and thus because tonight would not be the night Sandor kissed her.
A/N: Honestly, thank you so much for the encouraging reviews from you all :D I could not have hoped for a kinder audience and I can only keep my fingers crossed that you enjoyed this chapter