A/N: I'm very sorry that it's been so long. The end of senior year was crazy, but now, I'm done! Woohoo! And my boyfriend and I saw the real life Sam the other day because he had to come back home for a funeral, so that reminded me that I had neglected this story and I started writing this chapter as soon as I was able. The chapter title means 'betray', and the translations for some of Sandor's dialogue will be at the end of the chapter again. And of course, thank you to Mari88 and soubifan700 for reviewing that last chapter forever ago. Thank you all for hanging in there and I hope that I haven't lost your interest in this story.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Her Interactive and George R. R. Martin, except for Samuel Collins.

Dearest Sansa,

Your letter just arrived yesterday, and I can't say how happy I was to hear from you. Just seeing your words in that neat, little handwriting of yours was enough to make me remember how much I miss you.

Thankfully, the surgery went smoothly, and I've been fitted with the newest in prosthetics. It doesn't really look like a real leg, and my little brother has taken to calling me a 'robot', but you won't have to wheel me around the harbor anymore, and that's what matters. By the time I get back to you, I'll be able to walk again. Won't that be a sight? Petty Officer Collins, able to stand on his own again. Assuming my knees don't give out on me when I finally see you again.

Even though everything went well, and my physical therapist says that I'm adapting more easily than most, it will still be a few months before they send me back. I only hope that in that time, you're thinking about me as much as I'm thinking about you.

The other night, I had a dream that we were married, and it was our wedding night. It was the first night in a while that I'd dreamed of anything other than blood and smoke and death. And god, you were a beauty, in and out of your big, white dress. I can only imagine what you truly look like beneath that nurse's uniform. Like a goddess no doubt; perhaps that fiery one that's said to live somewhere on the islands.

Thank you for the picture by the way. It's okay that you forgot it with your letter. It came in a few days after just fine, and my mother was so excited at the prospect of finally having a daughter-in-law that she went out and bought me a frame for it as soon as she saw it. Now it's sitting on the table beside my bed instead of hiding underneath my pillow. That way, your beautiful face is the first thing I see in the morning, and the last thing I see before I go to sleep. I can't wait until that's true for you, and not just a weak replication.

As soon as I finish with my physical therapy and I can go somewhere without needing someone with me, I'll go pick out a ring. I hope you know that I'm serious about wanting you to be my wife. And that you've been considering your answer. I'm not sure if I'd be able to stand living without you now that I know what it is to be loved by you.

Look at me, getting sentimental. It must be all the pain medication that the doctors have me on.

Promise me that you'll write again as soon as you get this.

I miss you.

Love,
Sam

Sansa sighed and folded the letter up again before tucking it into the front pocket of her uniform. She had read and reread it ever since Myranda had delivered it to her with a knowing smirk and a thinly veiled innuendo, and yet, when she sat down to write him back, her mind went blank. How was she supposed to keep leading him on like this when she knew she would never truly love him back?

Groaning, she dropped her head onto the surface of her desk and then raised it slightly to bang it down again in frustration.

"You okay there, Sans?" Myranda asked, raising a well-manicured eyebrow at her friend.

Looking up, Sansa nodded weakly and blew a loose strand of hair away from her face with a heavy sigh. "I just don't know what to tell him."

"You could start with "yes"." Sansa's unamused expression clearly stated her opinion on said answer and Myranda sat up with a huff. "I'm serious, hon. Why is this a no-brainer to everyone but you? He's smart, he's funny, he's definitely handsome, and he eyes for nobody but you. That's more than you can say for most of the men here. I mean, don't you see that? Don't you like him at all?"

"Of course I do, but not...Myranda, he's talking about marriage! I'm not ready for that!"

"Well, you aren't getting any younger, sweetheart."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Yes, and I'll only be this pretty for so much longer. But that isn't my point. I just don't know if I'm ready to go marry a man I hardly know, even if he is smart, funny, and very attractive. I don't want to feel as though I'm rushing into things."

Her friend gave a half-hearted shrug of acquiescence and sighed. "Fine. How about this? You get out of here, go out wherever you go when you aren't here, and really think about what you're going to tell him. Clear your head. I think once you do, you'll see what all of the rest of us do."

Sansa hesitated for a moment then nodded in agreement. It was a slow day in the hospital what with most of the wounds from the battle well on their way to healing and she had been working double shifts for the past week to make up for the time she had taken off. She had only managed to escape from the hospital once in all that time, and since Shae and Gilly had been sitting on the beach within eyeshot of Sansa's usual meeting spot with Sandor, she had had no other choice but to spend her brief reprieve with them, rather than tucked away beneath the earth with Kāne 'Ōkala.

"Okay. You're probably right. Don't wait up for me though. I have a lot of thinking to do."

Randa nodded absently as Sansa gathered her things and stood, and she was able to make her way out of the infirmary without any further comment.

Truth be told, she did need to think about her response to Collins. The naïve part of herself that still liked to believe in the fairy tales she had loved so much as a child was convinced that if she just told him that she had feelings for another man, if he could be called such, then Sam would respectfully halt his advances and wish her well in her future with Sandor. However, this war had finally made her see reality above fantasy, and she knew that if she told her fellow Americans the truth behind the legend of Kāne 'Ōkala, they would hear nothing more but talk of his death.

So perhaps it was good that she hadn't seen him lately. As it was, she was better able to think clearly without the bias of his recent company to cloud her reason. She could go to him, tell him simply and plainly that they could never have a future together, and then leave him behind for the safety and security of a marriage to a well-respected soldier who loved her very much.

If only it was that simple.

Sighing, she crossed the line that divided the jungle from the beach and instead of letting her feet carry her to the now well-known entrance to Sandor's underground living space, she walked to the small section of beach where they had spent their New Year's Eve night together. It felt as though that night had been years, and not mere weeks, ago.

Sitting down on the warm sand, she curled up against the base of a tree, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling them up to meet her chin. Here, she could think, and that's exactly what she would do.

Her thoughts carried her far from the beach where she sat, back home to the mainland, with her father and mother, all of her brothers, and even Arya, trying as she always was. There, everything had been easier. If only she could return and leave all this war and confusion behind.

"What are you thinking about, manu li'ili'i?" The sound of his voice startled her and her head jerked up, meeting his vaguely amused gaze. "Are you maka'u?"

She shook her head and looked back out at the ocean, regaining her composure. "No. You just surprised me. I wasn't expecting you."

His eyebrow rose slightly and he crossed his arms over his chest. "I can leave then if I'm not wanted."

Sansa was tempted to tell him to go, but she hesitated long enough to lose her nerve and instead lightly patted the ground beside her. "No. Noho." The Hawaiian word felt foreign on her tongue, but she didn't miss the pride that flashed in his eyes when she said it.

Obeying, Sandor lie down on the sand, lacing his fingers behind his head and looking sideways at her. "My question still stands. Were you pining for me?"

She snorted and gave him an exasperated look. "Pining? Hardly."

"Hm. Well I have been. It's been too long, manu li'ili'i. 'Ano'i au 'oe."

At that, Sansa softened slightly and she looked over at him with a smile. "I missed you too. Things have just been busy lately."

Sandor nodded in understanding. "For us both then. Pele has been quite needy lately." He shot a look at the sky, as if daring his goddess to confront him for his insolence. "At her command, there are two fewer Japanese villages on these islands now." Sansa tensed at that, a gesture that did not go unnoticed. "You know that I cannot question her. She seeks revenge wherever she sees fit. I am a mere tool, ordered around to do her dirty business." His expression darkened and he muttered something in Hawaiian under his breath that Sansa couldn't understand and wasn't really sure that she wanted to.

"Enough of that, though," Sandor continued. "We're kokoke now, aren't we?"

One of his large hands was tilting her face towards his before she could speak, and his mouth covered hers, gently at first, and then with more insistence. Though her mind had been whirling furiously with all of her conflicted thoughts and emotions, it stilled with the touch of his lips and she felt herself melting into his touch.

"Sandor..." He moved his lips to her throat as he gently lowered her onto her back in the sand and he hummed his response against the beating of her heart.

Her pulse fluttered under his attentions and she found herself grasping at his uniform with clenched fists and moaning quietly as he slowly unbuttoned the front of her blouse and covered each inch of exposed skin with hot open-mouthed kisses.

"I..." She fought to keep her eyes open and gain control for just long enough to speak her mind. "There's..."

"Aha, manu li'ili'i?" His eyes were dark when they met her gaze and she felt her stomach flutter with a strange sensation that was quickly becoming familiar in his company.

"I need to tell you something," she managed to get out between breathy gasps and barely stifled whimpers.

"Maika'i..." God, she loved that he reverted to his native language when he was aroused. It was making it so much harder for her to think with his deep voice growling Hawaiian beside her ear as his tongue teased the line of her jaw.

"It's about..." No, that wasn't going to work. Good lord, how was she supposed to be able to do this?

Finally, she mustered her courage and sat up abruptly, startling Sandor away from her for just long enough for her mind to clear.

"Sam asked me to marry him."

maka'u- afraid

noho- stay

'ano'i au 'oe- I missed you

kokoke- together

aha, manu li'ili'i?- what, little bird?

maika'i- okay