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 ;) and there will be times when her lyrics are used here.
*Thank you my betas: onborrowedwings & nysandra! :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.
35. The Reunion
The direwolf was pacing restlessly by the door, readying himself for bolting out at the first opportunity. Since the night before, he had been anxious and hadn't let anyone in the house sleep peacefully. He had sensed her presence. She was here, he knew, the smallest of his sisters, the most beautiful, the more trusting, the only one he had dared not bite even when playing. The sister whose death he'd mourned most frantically and desperately, driving every soul in the castle mad. He had to find her, and defend her. He had to.
The woman who smelt of leather, dirt and snow, a scent he was used to by now, walked towards the door and opened it almost carelessly, and with a loud growl, the direwolf darted outside toward the street, not listening to the shouts, the curses or the voice of the boy calling after him. He had to find her…
Sandor woke her up half an hour before dawn with a gentle kiss, making Sansa shake her head slightly in protest as he squatted beside the bed.
"Wake up, love," were the first words she registered hearing that morning, whispered near her ear, as she felt a calloused hand brush her cheekbone. "We have to go to the harbor and look for a ship."
Sansa nodded briefly in agreement once she had opened her eyes, smiling sleepily at him, wishing she could stay under the covers till midday instead, her hands behind her head, resting on the pillow. But soon enough she was sitting up in bed, shaking the night sleep from her eyes, yawning.
She hadn't slept very well, but whether it was due to the fear of being in Braavos or something else, she didn't know. Sansa had dreamed during the night, but now that she was awake she couldn't remember exactly what about. Shaking her head in resignation, she stood up and stretched, noticing that it was still fairly dark outside.
I must get used to not getting enough rest, she thought tiredly. If we can find a ship for White Harbor that leaves today, we will probably be on it. Sansa wasn't pleased with the prospect of getting on board a ship so soon again, but there was nothing she could do about it. The thought of staying longer than a couple of days in Braavos was out of the question. They had to leave as soon as possible.
Her big man was ready, putting his longsword in its scabbard as he peered at her and rasped, "I'm going to go wake Hagen up."
Sansa's heart went out to Sandor then, as she remembered that he had probably not slept one bit during the night. She could sense just how worried he had been since yesterday afternoon, when Captain Trymm had told them that the Montufar's Dance would reach the Free City of Braavos within the hour.
I will try not to be a lazy burden, she decided, donning her smile and walking over to Sandor. Resting her hands on his chest she stood on tip toe, tilting up her neck so that she could reach her big man better, fisting the fabric of his tunic slightly with her hands. Sandor leaned down to kiss her with a tired smile, allowing himself to lower his defenses for a moment, one of his hands at the back of her head and the other one on her shoulder, steadying her in their warm embrace.
"Good morning, darling," she whispered against his scarred mouth.
"I love you," Sandor rasped in return, letting the contact of their lips pressed together linger.
She smiled into the kiss, saying, "I love you, too."
When Sandor straightened, Sansa took the swordbelt and scabbard she'd had made for him in Great Norvos for their namedays in her hands. "Let me do it."
He nodded, gazing down at her silently as her arms went around his narrow waist and she buckled the swordbelt at his front.
"Thank you for taking such a good care of me, big man," Sansa told him.
"Don't mention it," he growled, readjusting the swordbelt. "At least don't thank me until we are far away from this place."
Sansa nodded, and looked up at him with her most mischievous smile, trying to boost his spirits. "I hope I can have a little time to thank you properly once we come back from the quay."
At her words, Sandor laughed a sound rough as a saw on stone, a warm comforting sound to her.
"Bugger, you will, won't you? I'm going to hold you to your word on that one, little bird," he snarled, cupping her chin affectionately in his strong grip.
Her lips parted as she felt his thumb on her mouth. She closed her eyes, feeling happy, loved and content, wishing they could both crawl back into bed and sleep. While Sandor stepped outside the bedroom to go wake Edar up by knocking at their friend's door, Sansa changed quickly into the pink dress the former outlaw had given her back in Lorath. She smoothed the fabric with her hands, for it had gotten all crumpled from being packed away in her saddlebag for two weeks, and put on her traveler's cloak around her shoulders. Moments later, Sandor appeared on the hallway with Edar behind him. I thought he would be looking as tired as I feel, Sansa thought, yawning once again, as she noticed that Edar was surprisingly looking awake and alert.
Sansa asked, not unkindly, "Oh, Hagen, must you wear your bow and quiver everywhere you go?"
Edar blinked at her, and said, "One never knows when one will need them, Jeyne."
She smiled in defeat while Sandor nodded in approval. Sansa's big man entered the bedroom and put on his own traveler's cloak, pulling the hood up before doing the same with hers. Then the three of them went down the wooden stairs of the inn, that creaked beneath the slightest bit of weight upon them.
"We can break our fast when we come back," Sandor told them, as they heard the sound of someone talking eagerly to the innkeeper in the common room, despite the hour. By what little Sansa could make out of the stranger's flowing amber voice, she hazard a guess at him being from the far away distant Summer Isles, due to his liquid accent and the way he was talking about feathered cloaks.
"If we are lucky and we find a ship that sails away today," Sandor continued, "then we'll come back only to get some food, and to get the horses as well."
The inn had two entry doors, one opening on a street and one on a canal. Sandor, Sansa and Hagen went out through the former to avoid meeting the men. They left Stranger and Nan at the stable of The Inn of the Green Eel, and made their way back to Ragman's Harbor. Despite sleep still being heavy on her, Sansa was able to notice her surroundings with a little more detail, in awe with this strange mysterious city.
Mouths of lesser canals opened to either side of the streets, and others still smaller off of those. There were some houses built above waterways, turning the canals into tunnels where slender boats would start sliding in and out among them later today.
There were also fancy floating houses with lanterns of coloured glass, velvet drapes and brazen figureheads, as well as a flat-bottomed barge, heaped with crates and barrels, being pushed along twenty polemen to a side. When they had first encountered the former, Sansa stared in surprise as she caught sight of a woman dressed in white and silver silks stepping out from a barge. A courtesan.
Shaking her head slightly, Sansa returned her attention to the city around her, as she, Sandor and Edar passed under arched stone bridges, each of them decorated differently. Some had fish, crabs and squids on them, while others had a thousand painted eyes. Later in the day the canal would be choked with serpent boats and barges, but in the predawn darkness they had the streets of Braavos almost to themselves.
In the far distance, there was an enormous grey stone roadway of some kind that loomed above the canals and houses both, supported by three tiers of mighty arches marching away south into the morning haze. When Sandor wondered what it could be, Hagen told him that it was the sweetwater river that brought fresh water from the mainland for the fountains, across mudflats and briny shallows.
Several stone statues of men in long bronze robes stood along both sides of the Large Canal, Sansa noticed once they'd reached it, when the harbor and the lagoon came into sight. Some of the stone Sealords had hammers in their hands, other books or daggers, or stars. One was even upending a stone flagon to send an endless stream of water splashing down into the waters of the canal.
When they finally arrived at the port just before dawn, Sansa saw a little man sitting with his back against a piling, next to a big seal that barked, making her smile tiredly, as the man counted some coins at the edge of the green waterway that ran straight to the heart of the city. Ragman's Harbor was mercifully empty at this early hour, and the few people that were already up barely looked properly awake but for one or two exceptions.
There were almost ten ships docked before them on the quay. Three of them had been here yesterday when they had arrived, but five new ones had docked; a small carrack, a huge Ibbenese whaler that smelled of tar and blood and whale oil, two battered cogs from Pentos, and a lean galley up from Lys.
They all went to stand before the ships, staring up at them, wondering which one would be the one to take her and Sandor home at last. If it happens like it did in Pentos and there are none available heading to the North, I won't bear it.
Hagen Edar looked at the ships before them for a moment. "Wait here. I'll go and take a look at that galley. I think that man by the gangplank is the captain."
Sansa nodded, too tired to do much else. She looked about the almost deserted harbor, swaying slightly where she stood, trying to keep her eyelids from closing. She must have dozed off for a moment, because the next thing she knew was that her face was pressed against Sandor's hard comforting chest, as she leaned against him. Sandor had his arm around her shoulder, and had wrapped his traveler's cloak around them both, revealing a hint of the bright steel of his longsword to her eyes.
She raised her eyes to look at him, to find Sandor already gazing down at her with an amused grin on his features.
"Are you all right, little bird?" he asked her in his rasping voice, suddenly concerned. "You look white as a ghost."
Sansa nodded a little and opened her mouth to answer him, but in that precise moment the Titan of Braavos started to herald the coming of the sun, announcing dawn, making Sansa recall Old Nan's tales from her childhood in Winterfell. The sound the Titan made boomed across the lagoon, faint with distance, but still loud enough to wake the sleeping city. When the sound had finally died away, Sandor snarled a curse at the mighty statue.
And then, suddenly, it happened.
Sandor was just rasping, "Fucking thrice-damned hells," as that bloody Titan finally shut up, when he heard someone scream loudly behind him. Instantly, he swirled around, dragging his sleepy little bird with him, before his heart stopped as he caught sight of a dark swift shape bigger than a fucking pony darting quickly towards him and Sansa.
Bugger, Sandor thought in awe, staring at the animal even as he instinctively pushed Sansa behind him for protection. He was just unsheathing his longsword, fearing that the animal would attack her, when, in the blink of an eye, the beast was on him aggressively, knocking him to the ground, and driving the air out of Sandor's lungs. As his back hit the ground, Sandor saw bare pointy fangs ready to rip his throat out, before his grey eyes locked with the green ones.
It all seemed to happen in the matter of heartbeats. One moment, she was leaning her head on Sandor's chest, and the next, he was pushing her behind him, as he realized that the wolf was sprinting in their direction. Sansa backed away in surprise, realizing what the animal was going to do, before it had even thrown itself at Sandor, making the latter hit the ground, the wolf still on him. Out of the corner of her eye, Sansa saw Hagen Edar quickly readying his bow and arrow to shoot at the direwolf, but before he could let his arrow loose, and fearing that the wolf would harm Sandor, Sansa heard herself shouting hastily, loud and clear, "Grey Wind! Ghost! Lady! Nymeria! Summer! Shaggydog!"
She had recognized the animal as a direwolf quickly enough, and the direwolf seemed to recognize his name in time as well. When he heard his name, the wolf lifted his head in her direction, still pinning Sandor to the ground with his heavy weight. Sansa stared as in a dream at the direwolf, at his black coat and eyes green as wildfire, and she stilled instantly on her place.
Shaggydog. The realization took her breath away, despite her having not seen the direwolf for almost two years now, when it was still relatively small. And then Sansa's heart did stop beating. Rickon. Gods, it can't be! But why else would her little brother's wolf be here all alone? Rickon had to be here.
Sansa bent down and put her hand forward for the wolf, aware at the back of her mind that men's voices were calling her name, calling for her to back away, but when Shaggy leapt off Sandor with a final snap in the direction of his face, his fangs bared in rage, the wolf didn't harm her. Instead, he came towards Sansa and smelled her, and then began to lick at her open palm.
He's grown so much, Sansa thought happily, smiling, as she brought her free hand to caress the wolf's muzzle. Oh, gods, Lady.
Sandor was breathing like a blown horse, blinking up at the sky of Braavos, realizing he had just come face to face with a direwolf, and the sodding beast hadn't killed him. He knew that the animal had been a bloody direwolf, remembering the she-wolves that had accompanied Sansa and her sister down the Kingsroad well enough. Only this one was full-grown, whereas the ones Sandor remembered had been pups. Big for their ages, but pups nonetheless.
Bloody hells. He looked at the animal as it got off him and moved away somewhere to his left. And then Sandor's heart caught in his sodding throat as he saw the little bird standing near the beast, her hand outstretched, a fucking invitation to have her arm ripped off.
"Don't!" he screamed at Sansa, and saw Hagen Edar running towards them, his bow and arrow out, ready to kill the wolf.
Sandor looked quickly at Sansa, afraid that Edar would end up shooting her if the direwolf moved and the arrow missed its target, despite his impeccable archery skills. Sandor quickly stood up, ignoring the sharp pain in his lungs from the blow of having an animal the size of a thrice-damned small horse hit him square in the chest, aiming to throw himself at the wolf before it could harm Sansa. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the animal sniffing the bird's hand hesitantly before he began to lick it all over eagerly. And then the little bird was laughing and ruffling the wolf's fur, kneeling on the ground.
Hagen and Sandor rasped a curse at the same moment, unwilling to believe what their eyes were seeing. Sandor became aware of his surroundings again, noticing that the few strangers that had been here a moment ago had disappeared soon enough out of fear, while some sailors were staring wide-eyed at the maid and the direwolf in surprise, up in their ships. As he dared to take a steady breath again, Sandor realized that nothing could have ever prepared him for what happened next.
Sansa was keeling on the ground, laughing as Shaggy started to lick her face–a little too roughly–looking up at an unharmed Sandor joyously. Her big man was rooted to the spot, staring at her with his mouth hanging open, as Hagen Edar joined Sandor's side warily, with his bow and arrow still raised, aiming at her brother's direwolf, prepared to loose it at Shaggydog at the first suspicious sign.
"It's all right," she told them, smiling. "He won't harm me."
Edar blinked and lowered his bow just a little, clearly uncertain. Sansa saw that Sandor's mouth had begun to twitch just as he took a step towards her, his hand already moving towards the pommel of his sword. In that moment, a small voice yelled, "Mama?" and two pairs of heads turned to the left as if one to look at who had cried that word.
Sansa saw a skinny boy, tall for his age, dressed in filthy grey clothes, patched here and there with brown. He had unruly long auburn hair and was looking at her with big, bright blue eyes.
"Sansa!" Rickon exclaimed, making Sansa realize that her hood had fallen back at one point, openly revealing her features.
The direwolf turned his head at the sound of his master, and stepped away from Sansa to run in circles around baby Rickon excitedly, his tail shaking in the air. Sansa had no recollection of standing up. Her throat felt so dry and tight that it almost hurt to speak when she let out a gasp, and screamed, "Rickon!" in return.
Her lip trembled and tears appeared on Sansa's eyes as her little brother ran towards her, throwing his arms around her with a cry when she fell to her knees and hugged Rickon in return tightly, barely believing what was happening, wondering if this was a dream. Oh, gods, he's truly here! He's unharmed and alive and here!
A sudden thought flashed across her mind as she felt Rickon burying his head in her hair and neck, his arms clinging to her desperately. Who else is here? She couldn't even finish that thought. Raising her eyes, she saw through the haze of tears a tall, wild, lean, bony woman halting before them, panting breathlessly, flushed from running. Shaggydog moved to the woman's side and sat down beside her, as Sansa looked at the stranger's hard face, thinking that she hardly looked like a woman, despite her shoulder length hair, or the brown old shift she was wearing.
Sansa shook her head, crying. It doesn't matter who she is. It only matters that Rickon is here. Letting out another sob, she ran her hand through Rickon's hair, asking him, "Rickon darling, gods be good, what are you doing here?"
Her fierce baby brother cried harder as he said incoherently into her hair, "Sansa, Papa dead! Mama and Robb in the south… Theon came, but we hid in the crypts… Home no more… Theon was bad… Me gone with Osha... Bran and Hodor and Meera and Jojen and Summer went away… Osha and me took a trip on a boat, and Shaggy too… We lived in trees and caves, and then the man came and took us away…"
Sansa bit her lip, tasting blood, trying to make sense of what Rickon was telling her. But she was too overjoyed to understand right now. Rickon raised his head from her neck and looked right at her, her Tully blue eyes meeting a red defiant gaze. He asked her, "You won't leave me again, will you? I won't let you. Shaggy won't let you if I don't want to."
Sansa smiled and saw that Rickon had tears glistening on his face. She brushed them away, shaking her head, taking in the changes on Rickon's face. He didn't look like a baby anymore on the outside. His face had lost its baby smoothness, but Sansa was certain already that Rickon was still her sibling on the inside, afraid and uncertain about everything. "No, little brother. I won't leave you ever again. I promise."
She kissed her brother's cheek as silent tears of joy slid down both their faces. Rickon threw his arms around her again, and Sansa finally looked around her, her eyes searching for Sandor. Her big man was staring at her and Rickon in utter disbelief, running a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath. She smiled at him, wishing to let him know by her smile just how happy she was. Hagen Edar, Sansa noticed, had finally lowered his bow and arrow, and was looking with a frown at her and Rickon, as well as at Sandor and the hard faced unkempt woman.
Sandor stepped towards her, grunting, and growled uncertainly, "Little bird?"
Rickon raised his head at the words, and stared at Sandor through narrowed eyes that quickly widened in awe as he caught sight of Sandor's burns.
"Sansa, who is he?" her baby brother demanded to know in a whisper.
"He is my friend, Rickon," she answered, noticing how long Rickon's hair had grown. It looks as if he hasn't had it cut since I last saw him. It reached a little beyond his shoulder blades. He had also grown so much. He's going to be as tall as Robb and Father one day. "And yours as well. You met him once long ago, though I'm sure you don't remember. It was when King Robert came to Winterfell to visit Father."
"I think I remember him," Rickon lied, still staring up at Sandor, as the latter pulled up the hood of his cloak to hide his face.
"Rickon," the strange woman said suddenly, walking up to them as Hagen seemed to remember where he was and did the same. Shaggydog approached them as well, but when neither Sandor nor Edar moved away in fear, despite him going to sniff at both men's legs, the direwolf seemed to make up his mind that they were no threat to Rickon.
"Osha, Sansa is my sister. Her direwolf was Lady, but she died in the south. Sansa, this is Osha. She's a wilding."
Sandor and Sansa both stared at that, surprised. What is a wilding woman doing with my brother in Braavos?
Osha looked as wary of them as they were of her, but she nonetheless gave an awkward bow and said, "Pleased to meet m'lady of Stark. Now, Rickon, come here. We have to return to the house."
Rickon nodded, returning his attention to Sansa, who was still holding her brother, unwilling to let him go. "We have to go before someone bad comes to catch Shaggy and hurt him. He was bad and was chained in the garden, but I let him loose. He's never liked chains, and he ran away. You have to come with us now."
Sansa nodded, beaming at her little brother as she finally stood up. Rickon called his dark wolf to him as Sansa stepped towards Sandor, who quickly took hold of her hand in his.
"Come along, little lordling," Osha told Rickon, jerking her head in the direction from which she and Rickon and Shaggydog had come from. Rickon ruffled his direwolf's fur and let him bite him playfully as he waited for Sandor and Sansa to start following him.
"Oh, gods, Sandor," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "I'm not dreaming, am I?"
Sandor shook his head. "You're not, little bird. We must follow them. If your brother trusts this wilding, then I reckon we are more in danger here in the middle of Ragman's Harbor with a bloody direwolf that gives you both away, than wherever they want to take us to. But pull your hood up first."
Sansa chuckled, still too stunned and happy to care much about the unspoken dangers Sandor was referring to; he drew her close to him, his hand gripping the pommel of his sword, Protector, while she put up her hood.
So they followed the woman Osha as she quickly strode them away from the port, with Shaggy and Rickon following her, Sansa and Sandor coming next, and Hagen Edar bringing up the rear. Sansa's mind was full of thoughts, wondering again why was Rickon with Osha here in Braavos of all places. Rickon said something about Bran and Hodor and Theon, as well as of going away to live in the wild before a man came for them. Gods be good, what must have he had to endure? She wondered, recalling her own time as a hostage back at the Red Keep after father died. What has happened back in Westeros while we have been away? She at least had been almost a woman grown when her captivity started, but poor baby Rickon wouldn't have understood much about why everyone was going away and leaving him alone.
Sansa supposed she would at least get some of her answers soon enough by this woman Osha, so she let matters rest for the moment. Rickon and Shaggydog both seem to like her, she gathered. Maybe Osha is willing to believe I really am Rickon's sister due to his behavior, and that of his wolf.
"I'm sorry Shaggy attacked you," Sansa suddenly told Sandor, turning around to gaze up at her big man, who had been as lost in his thoughts as she had been in hers as they walked down a few streets. "Did he hurt you?"
"I'm bloody lucky. He only knocked the air out of me, but I don't think I have any broken ribs. That was quick thinking back there, bird. Calling the names of your siblings' wolves."
"I don't know why I did it. I just saw the direwolf and knew it was one belonging to Lady's pack," she answered truthfully. "To my brothers."
The wilding woman Osha stopped at a corner when they had just gone three streets away from the quay, apparently having overheard their conversation. She looked at Sansa and Hagen in turn before settling her gaze on Sandor and commenting, "By the old gods, when a direwolf doesn't like you, it's bad, and yet Shaggy didn't hurt you much by what I can see."
Sandor shrugged, eyeing the wolf as it stopped to make water against a wall. "It would have ripped my throat out had the boy's sister not stopped it."
"Shaggy has always been aggressive. He attacked plenty of guards back in Winterfell, along with the Walders and Maester Luwin. And he's only grown more savage since."
"I'm sure he sensed that we were no foes," Sansa put in, relieved that this woman had known Maester Luwin. Maybe we can trust her.
The wilding woman turned her attention to Sansa, and answered, "Aye, he sensed more than that, I'm willing to imagine. You among them. Both the boy and the wolf were restless last night. We didn't know why, but now I think I do, girl. Your brother's wolf knew you were near, that's why it sprang out of the house as if it had gone mad, driving us to a merry chase after him. He led us to the port to find you, little lady."
Hagen Edar was staring at Osha as if she was madder than him, while Sandor narrowed his grey eyes at the wilding, looking as if he almost believed in this. Sansa knew how unbelievable it was to think those words could be true, but there was a part of her that made her feel certain there was truth in what Osha said.
Sansa suddenly recalled the strange dreams that had haunted her sleep last night, and lowered her face so that she didn't betray herself.
"What are you looking at, smiley archer?" Osha asked Hagen, turning her attention to him with an amused grin, since the former outlaw didn't seem able to take his eyes off of her, as a little smile appeared on his face.
The wilding woman's voice seemed to bring Hagen back from his musings, for he hastily shook his head, startled, and said ashamed, "Nothing."
Osha snorted. "We shouldn't wait no more. The house is at the end of the street. Come."
Shaggy and Edar followed the woman, but Rickon sat on the ground, putting on the shoe that had slipped from his foot.
"Go on," Sandor growled beside her, making Sansa tear her gaze from her brother to settle on her big man, who was smiling down at her in understanding. "He needs you. Go."
Sansa smiled at Sandor before walking ahead towards Rickon, offering him her assistance as her brother took her hand in his. They followed the others, with Sandor just behind them, until they came upon the sight of a little one floor house on a dead end. Sansa let her eyes gaze all around her, noticing that this was certainly not one of the nicest places in Braavos. There was no one in the street yet, though, and that was a small mercy.
When they all reached the house, a man opened the front door, stepping outside to meet them. In the blink of an eye, Shaggydog had slipped into the house, with a last look at Rickon to make sure Sansa's brother was meaning to enter the house as well.
But Sansa didn't let go of Rickon's hand when her eyes fell on the stranger as he stepped outside, a worried expression etched on his common features. "By the Seven, Osha. Where were you, woman? I was about to go out and look for you three. I wake up and find you all gone, and–"
The man fell silent as he caught sight of Sansa, Sandor, and Edar behind Osha. Rickon yelled happily, "Look who Shaggy found, Lord Davos. My sister Sansa!"
Sandor shook his head, staring at Sansa's retreating back as she went to join her little brother. This is bloody unbelievable, he thought for the hundredth time in the past half hour, shaking his head. Out of all the people in the world they could have encountered here in Braavos, he would never have believed Sansa's youngest brother would be the one–in tow with his direwolf and a wilding woman.
Fuck, he sighed, moving on as this Osha woman reached a house that looked more like a shack than anything else to him. He had a thousand questions running through his mind, besides the awareness that now secrecy was going to be harder to keep if they were seen with the wolf, but somehow, despite the bloody animal's attack of him, Sandor didn't mind the wolf's presence.
At least the direwolf knew that we meant no harm to the boy. The boy. Sandor remembered little of Ned Stark's youngest son from his short stay in Winterfell, but Rickon and the others certainly looked like Sansa a lot. Sansa and Rickon have the same eyes and hair, Sandor had noticed, while he blinked in disbelief at the sight of them both hugging and crying in the middle of Ragman's Harbor.
He was desperate to know how the fucking hells had the boy escaped to Braavos, but he supposed he would have to wait a bit longer to find out. The little bird didn't seem to even remember that they had to be cautious, and Sandor couldn't really blame her for that in these mad moments.
Looking quickly back at the outlaw, Sandor saw that Edar was unusually quiet as he followed them. I can deal with him later. There were other matters to deal with first. Sandor kept near Sansa and the boy, his hand never leaving his longsword, until they saw the door to the house open and a man step outside, looking ready to piss his breeches in relief.
And then Sandor stopped dead, as he saw no other than Davos Seaworth, the sodding Onion Knight, talking to Osha and looking worried.
"Seven fucking buggering hells," Sandor rasped, drawing a curious glance from Sansa and Hagen.
What is he doing here? Sandor wondered, steeling himself for whatever was to come. Thankfully, though, the Onion Knight seemed to be alone. He stopped talking as he caught sight of Sansa, Hagen and finally Sandor, and swore out loud in recognition.
Sandor had met Davos Seaworth before, though he had never talked to the man. Before Robert ever took the court North, when Jon Arryn was alive and Stannis Baratheon was part of the Small Council, Seaworth had at times been summoned by Stannis to Maegor's, and there Sandor had seen him. His eyes traveled to the Onion Knight's left hand, and noticed how the joints at the fingers there looked stiff underneath the glove. It's him. Sodding bloody honorable Stannis' man.
And he knows who I am as well, Sandor gathered, by the way the knight was looking at him. He snorted, amused at how little his cloak's hood had helped in concealing his burns. He doesn't know Sansa by sight, but her little brother just made certain that he knows who she is by name at least.
"Sansa Stark?" Davos asked incredulous, after Rickon had told him whom Shaggydog had found. The Onion's eyes settled on Sansa, staring at her long. Finally, the knight bowed at the little bird, saying, "My lady, you resemble your mother greatly."
"My mother?" Sansa chirped, pleased with his words, but still looking at him with uncertainty. "How is it that you know my mother, Ser? Oh, please do tell me that she is well."
"I had the privilege to meet her when she visited Renly Baratheon's host just before he died," Davos answered, pausing at the end, considering something. "I am Lord Davos Seaworth. And–and I have much to talk about with you, my lady."
Sandor stepped beside Sansa and rasped, "You'll talk to us both, Onion Knight." I won't leave her alone with you for a moment.
Davos regarded him with a hard look, before he spat as courteously as a rat from Flea Bottom raised high could, "Hound, I would not have expected to find you here, with Lady Sansa Stark of all people. I saw you from my ship killing good men on the night the Blackwater burned."
I have no fucking wish to remember that night. "I am Sandor of House Clegane. That's the name you'll address me by, Seaworth, if you want to keep the fingers of your other hand. And I don't have no butcher's cleaver with me. I won't stop at the joint."
Sandor saw Hagen Edar shift before him, but paid him no heed. The Onion looked angry, but then the little bird looked pleadingly at them both and said, "Please, we did not come here to start a row right in the middle of the street. I want to be with my brother. And Sandor can stay when you tell us what you must, Lord Davos."
The Onion narrowed his eyes at Sansa and Sandor for a moment, before he relented.
"Very well, my lady. Clegane can stay. Come inside, Lady Stark, if you would," Seaworth said, stepping aside.
"No, I'm going to talk to Sansa," young Rickon exclaimed, as he entered the house and patted his wolf on the head, leading Sansa inside.
Hagen and Sandor followed the others inside the shack. It was a small house with two rooms, a living room and a garden at the back fenced with tall stone walls Sandor could see through the only window in the living room. That must be where they keep the wolf hidden, he suspected, as he saw Rickon drag Sansa defiantly away from the others.
"Osha, take Rickon and the Lady Sansa to your bedroom while I chain the wolf outside," The Onion sighed tiredly, rubbing his face wearily. "Clegane, please remain here if you mean to hear what I must say."
He didn't like one bloody bit the way Seaworth said those last words. He nodded at Sansa when she looked at him before disappearing into the wilding woman's room, followed by Rickon. Davos lured the direwolf outside with a cold dead chicken, leaving Sandor and Hagen Edar alone in the small dining room.
Sandor knew very well why Edar was so fucking quiet. He knows now that me and Sansa lied to him about who we were. When they had first met the outlaw in the Hills of Norvos, the madman hadn't understood a word of the Common Tongue, but now, after months of living day after day in company of Sandor and Sansa, Hagen Edar had quickly become fluent in the Westerosi tongue, and had therefore buggeringly understood many of the events that had just occurred. Well, Sandor could talk to Hagen later, and make sure if it wouldn't be necessary to silence him now that he had seen Rickon and Shaggy, and heard the names Stark and Clegane.
Hagen took a seat by the small table in the middle of the dining room, his bow and quiver still attached to his back, while Sandor preferred to rest against a wall, his arms crossed before him, looking at the small room after he'd pulled down his hood. The shack was scarcely furnished, and was clearly a hideout used by the Onion, Osha and Rickon. But who are they hiding from? Sandor wanted to know.
When Davos came back, Sandor jerked his head in direction to the two small rooms down the hall, and commented, "It's a pretty place you have here, knight. In a dirty little hidden street, near to the harbor."
Seaworth nodded, sparing a look at Hagen. "We could not risk staying at an inn. Our only option was to rent a house where a grown direwolf can pass relatively unnoticed. We have to keep him locked away in the back all the time. This house has proved safe enough so far, but then again we've only been here less than a week. We are between ships."
"So are we," Sandor said, before continuing without preambles. "Who is it you are hiding the wolf and the boy from, Onion Knight? And why are you doing it as well?"
Looking at him steadily, Davos measured him for a moment, as if weighing his chances. He at last apparently decided to take the wisest course and trust Sandor, for he answered, "From the Spider and his spies. And from your former masters and their friends. I take it that you no longer serve House Lannister?"
"Took me long enough to desert those blonde-haired bastards, but, aye, you're right. I no longer work for those cunts and sons of whores. I'm my own master now."
"Answer me this, Clegane. What is it that you are doing here with the Lady Sansa? The word is that you went mad from the fires and fled from the battle the night Stannis attacked King's Landing, but the Lannisters were never clear as to what happened with Ned Stark's daughter. Some said that Lady Sansa died during the battle and others that she sprouted wings, turned into a wolf, and flew away."
Sandor smiled. "Aye, I well believe that's what's happening. As to your question, I'm here protecting her. We escaped together during the battle, and I've been her sworn shield ever since we arrived here in Essos. Now you tell me what has happened in Westeros since Stannis lost against the Lannisters, when they fucking burned the Blackwater."
The Onion took a moment to answer, as if wondering if he should even bother in correcting Sandor about putting in question one of Stannis Baratheon's honorable decisions. Seaworth glanced once again at Hagen, as if wondering what the hell was he doing here, and replied, "You say you've been protecting the Lady Sansa all these months, then? Keeping her alive and safe from the game of thrones?"
Sandor nodded, and Davos went on. "Too many things have happened, and unfortunately some of them will affect the Lady Sansa badly. It's clear to me that you haven't heard anything from Westeros until now. Neither Osha nor I have thought it wise to tell Rickon anything, afraid he will not understand, young as he is. Afraid that he would go mad."
Sandor shifted his weight from one leg to the other, standing a little straighter. This doesn't sound good.
"Out with it, Onion," he spat at the bloody knight.
But Seaworth shook his head. "I'll tell you, but please call the Lady Sansa back so that she hears it too."
Fuck, Sandor felt like shit as he realized that whatever had happened in the Seven Kingdoms hadn't been favorable for the Starks, or the Onion Knight would have assured him otherwise. Fucking hells, the little bird… For a moment the possibility of grabbing Sansa by the hand and taking her away somewhere safe, back to Lorath perhaps, crossed Sandor's head. Before she learns anything that may hurt her. We'll take her brother and the wolf, too. But Sandor knew that was not bloody possible.
So instead he nodded in understanding, cursing, "Bugger," under his breath, as he strode with a heavy heart towards the bedroom where Sansa was. His little bird was sitting on a narrow bed with her brother, smiling and listening attentively as young Rickon told her of the adventures he'd had.
When he paused by the door and coughed, Sansa looked up at him, beaming.
"Sandor," she said excitedly. "Osha and Rickon have been to Skagos!"
Sandor attempted to smile at that, feeling miserable at the thought of ruining the little bird's happiness.
"They have, have they?" he asked the boy, surprised.
"Yes, we were there for a while, and Shaggy killed unicorns and we ate some together sometimes."
"Did they taste good?" Sandor wondered, not really certain he should believe the boy regarding the existence of sodding unicorns. But better unicorns than human flesh, Sandor gathered, a bit uneasy.
Rickon shrugged. "They were good. What is your name?"
Sansa answered for him. "He is Sandor, and he is my best friend in the entire world, Rickon."
Her brother looked sharply at the bird at that. "Shaggy is mine, but Sandor can be my friend too, if he likes. Shaggy likes him."
Sandor couldn't help but snort at that. Likes me? Aye, I suppose he does, else he would have eaten me already.
"I would like that," Sandor told the boy, hoarsely. Sansa put her arms around Rickon and said, "I want you both to be friends. I love you both very much."
Osha, the wilding woman, had been cleaning some wooden spoons as he talked to Sansa and her brother, and at her last words she raised her head up and stared at the little bird curiously, leaving Sandor in no doubt she had understood Sansa's words better than Rickon could.
"Sandor, what happened to your face?" the youngest Stark suddenly asked him, causing Sansa to stare at him before quickly turning to Sandor, clearly at a loss as to how to react.
Sandor found the boy's lack of fear of him new and surprisingly to his liking, "Maybe I'll tell you one day, boy, but right now the Onion Knight wants to have a word with your sister."
He looked at the wilding woman then, hoping she would understand what his words meant by his tone. Sansa stood up, telling Rickon she would be back, but the boy clung to her arm in protest until Osha smacked his head with the spoon, understanding Sandor. Rickon relented then, and Sansa stepped outside to the small hallway joining him, while Osha closed the door behind them, still glancing at them curiously.
Sandor put his arm around his little bird as she buried her face on his chest, saying simply, "Oh, Sandor."
Kissing the top of her head, he pressed his mouth against her soft auburn hair, closing his eyes for a moment before rasping quietly, "I know, little bird. Come, Seaworth has news from Westeros for us."
We can't fucking delay it anymore, Sandor sighed resignedly, as Sansa raised her beautiful face to stare up at him. He knew by the way her features changed that she understood that not everything she was about to hear was going to be good.
"Yes," she whispered after a moment, smiling. "Gods, it's been months, and we've waited for so long to hear anything. I'm so nervous!"
Sansa looked so unprepared that it hurt him, because he knew, despite Seaworth not having spoken a word of Westeros yet, that they were not going to like what they were going to hear. But as Sandor gazed at her face, full of love as she unconsciously straightened her shoulders, he remembered suddenly all the times she had done this very same gesture back at the Red Keep whenever the little shit king had him escort her to him.
Sandor had noticed on those occasions how the little bird would don a smile on her pretty face, as she straightened her back and shoulders, preparing herself for whatever horror awaited her. Sansa was a northern wolf who had survived the lions by herself where wiser grown men who were supposed to know better had failed. She is preparing herself for whatever tidings the Onion Knight has to tell us.
"Come, big man," Sansa said, still smiling prettily up at him. "Let's hear what has happened back home."
Sandor's heart clenched painfully inside his chest again at those words. He gave Sansa a curt nod and a poor attempt at a reassuring grin that only had her shaking her head at him, as she brushed her hand against his, her fingers caressing his discretely.
He followed Sansa back to the dining room. The Onion Knight and Hagen Edar were silently staring at opposite walls, looking uncomfortable in each other's presence. When Sansa said, "I'm here, Lord Davos," the smuggler and the outlaw both gave out a small sigh of relief.
"My lady, please, take a seat. I have much and more to tell you. Clegane has spoken to me briefly about how he became your sword shield, after you both escaped the Red Keep during the battle between stag and lion. It's been many months since that fight, and I bring you both good and bad tidings."
Sansa nodded silently and took a seat on the table. Davos was sitting at the head, with Hagen to his left and Sansa to his right. The little bird looked up at him expectantly, and Sandor knew what she meant. He walked towards her and stood right behind her chair, ignoring the empty seat beside Sansa.
The bloody knight coughed, glancing at Edar, before saying, "My lady, I do not think it wise that this stranger remains here and listens to what I have to say."
Hagen Edar locked his eyes on Davos, narrowing them, and said in a passable attempt at the Common Tongue, "If you want me to leave, ask me yourself."
Before Seaworth could open his mouth, Sansa suddenly pleaded, "No, Hagen, stay. Lord Davos, Hagen is our friend, and we trust him with our lives. He knows too much already, so knowing some more will not hurt. We owe him a lot. I can't repay his friendship by making him leave us now, appearing as if I do not trust him."
Edar certainly looked pleased with her words. He mumbled a humble, "Thank you… Sansa."
Sandor almost rolled his eyes at the Lorathi, but some of the things Sansa had said were true, and besides the little bird, Hagen was the only one he could more or less trust in this house if the choice came down to Rickon, Osha or Davos.
"Now, please, Lord Davos, tell me what you know of my family," Sansa said, returning her attention to the former smuggler. "Have you heard of my lady mother and my brother Robb? Rickon said something about Bran wishing to go to the Wall. Do you know where my other brother is? Maybe he went to visit my half-brother Jon who took the black about the same time that I left Winterfell for the South."
The Onion Knight had his hands on the surface of the wooden table. He clasped and unclasped them, and exchanged a look with Sandor. He cleared his throat. "Lady Sansa, I–I have some grave news about the Starks…"
And so Davos Seaworth at last told Sansa, Sandor and Hagen everything, from the Lannister victory at the Blackwater to Joffrey's marriage and death, all in the same day at the start of the new century. He told them about King Stannis' journey to the Wall to aid the Night's Watch against Mance Rayder and the wildings, and of Jon Snow becoming the Lord Commander. He spoke about the fall of Winterfell to Theon Greyjoy before the Boltons took it from him and married Arya Stark to Ramsay Snow.
Davos spoke of the supposed deaths of the two little Stark princes, and of Stannis' intention to retake Winterfell. He confided the Manderlys' secret conspiracy against the Boltons and the mission they had set Davos on, a mission that took him to Skagos in search of Rickon and his direwolf, before wild raging storms forced him to deviate with Osha, the presumed last Stark and his wolf to Braavos, in an attempt not to perish at sea. He told them what he wanted to do now, after he had spoken of the Imp's trial for murdering his nephew, and the death of Sandor's brother by the poisoned spear of the Red Viper, Prince Oberyn Martell, and of the way the Imp had fled the capital after murdering Tywin Lannister on the privy.
He spoke of the Young Wolf's victories and of his marriage to a Westerling when he was already promised to another- a Frey woman. And last of all, hesitating over his words, the smuggler told them about the lies the Freys spread, the betrayal of the Boltons, the marriage and imprisonment of Edmure Tully, and of the fucking Red Wedding.
A ceremony in which Robb Stark had gone to make amends for his offense to the Freys, only to be betrayed. There, in cold blood, after having granted them guest right, the Freys had murdered the wedding guests- among them Robb and Catelyn Stark. The little bird's mother and brother were dead.
A/N: So… I hope you like these turn of events! Your reviews always brighten up my week and encourage the muse to stick around ;')