A/N: Hey guys. This one's pretty short. A little shorter than the last one. It's just another sort of transition chapter, with the Sandor side of the aftermath of their fight. And Pele makes an appearance for the first time, so that's fun. In reality, her conversation with Sandor would all be in Hawaiian, but since I don't know the grammar very well at all despite my attempts to learn it, I kept it in English and just threw in a few words every now and then, which are translated at the end. The chapter title for this one means 'anger'. And, of course, thank you so much to GrowlingPeanut, Mari88, soubifan700, and Denali Direwolf for their reviews of the last chapter. They were all lovely and very much appreciated.

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

Sandor Clegane was no stranger to anger. He had been angry for the past two hundred years. As Kāne 'Ōkala though, it was not truly his own rage, but Pele's, channeled through him and taken out on whomever she wanted revenge upon. This time, it was all his own and it festered restlessly in his gut as he paced aimlessly through the maze of lava tubes beneath the island.

He wasn't sure what hurt more: hearing that his worst fears had finally come true, or realizing that he was powerless to stop them. When Sansa had admitted that the cripple had finally made his move, he honestly hadn't been surprised. No matter how out of touch he was with society, and American society in particular, the signs of love hadn't changed much over the centuries and he hadn't been blind to the way that Collins looked at the pretty young nurse when he thought that they were alone.

Of course, she would accept the proposal. There was no other logical course of action. She would write him back, using all those flowery words of hers, they would be married the day he returned to the islands, and it would be that handsome blond bastard who made love to her and spent the rest of his life in her arms.

He was stupid to have thought anything else was possible.

Time passed more slowly during the week that followed their fight than it had in the two centuries that had come to pass since his resurrection as Kāne 'Ōkala. He spent his days roaming beneath the surface of the islands, determined to avoid the jungle lest his feet carry him somewhere his heart refused to go. At night, he would sit on the battered cot that he called his bed, calloused fingers toying with the frayed edges of the picture that she had given him. Each time his anger rose hot in his chest, he moved to tear it, imagining the satisfaction of scattering it to pieces and letting it burn away, but the sight of her smile stayed his hand, and the anger was replaced with a hollow sensation that hurt worse than the rage ever had.

For nearly a month, he continued this routine, vacillating between anger and guilt as he warred with the two sides of himself. At the end of that time, he was forced from his solitude with a summons from Pele. He knew she was unhappy with his recent actions, and it seemed that she had finally lost her patience.

And so he found himself in the crater atop Mount Kilauea, arms crossed over his broad chest as his mistress sat before him, a suspicious expression on her frighteningly beautiful features.

"You have been disobedient as of late," she said tersely. "Perhaps you aren't of use to me anymore."

Sandor knew what she was doing. It wasn't infrequent that she reminded him of her power over him. The moment that she tired of him, he would no longer be held bound to earth, and his granted immortality would leave him, rendering him either mortal once again, or dead; he wasn't sure if he cared to know which.

"I've been busy," he replied gruffly, refusing to take the bait. "And if I recall correctly, there are two fewer Japanese villages marring your islands."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously and the reddish tint of her skin flared brighter at his insolence. "I've been watching you. You're spending too much time with that kanaka."

His expression hardened at the mention of Sansa. "Lili?"

Rising to her feet, the goddess closed the distance between them and jabbed a slender finger into his chest. "Don't forget what I did for you. I could've left you to die in my ahi. You are bound to me for so long as I wish you to be, and I suggest that you remember that, Kāne 'Ōkala." It was rare that she used the name he had been given by the islanders, and when she did, it was invariably as a warning.

He met her gaze unflinchingly for a few moments, allowing himself a slight smirk when she finally turned away, moving to the edge of the crater and frowning out across the landscape.

"The cowards who attacked my islands haven't returned. I grow more afraid with each passing day that they did not do all they intended and that they will return to destroy the rest of the..." Her frown deepened and she cast him an impatient glance.

"Americans," he supplied dryly.

She waved her hand in acknowledgment and continued with a sigh. "They are the reason they came and they are the reason that they will come back." Turning to face him again, she looked at him, anger burning brightly in her dark eyes. "I wish them gone."

"They're predicting an end to the war by next Christmastime," Sandor offered, though he knew that Pele would be unsatisfied. Time meant little to her, and he doubted that she even truly understood the concept of Christmas, let alone knew when it was.

As expected, she ignored him, her full lips pursed as she stared at a point behind him in deep concentration. He waited somewhat impatiently for her to continue.

When she spoke again, it was with finality. "You will kill them. You will destroy their base, kill their men and women, hō'ā everything. Then, my islands will be safe again."

It had taken the thought of losing Sansa—for good, and not just to another man—that made Sandor realize his mistake. He had taken what they had for granted. For the first time in his very long life, he had the affection of a kind and beautiful woman, one who smiled and laughed with him instead of flinching at his cruel words and the sight of his burns.

And he had gone and fucked it all up.

The fear of Pele's revenge claiming his little bird's life was too much to bear, and it superseded his anger, allowing him to think clearly for the first time since their falling out. Of course, he had to go to her, had to tell her that he had been unbelievably ignorant, that he hadn't meant what he had said, that he couldn't live without her.

If only he had the words to say it.

Mustering what little courage he had, he shook himself from his jealously-induced reverie and returned to the surface. The weather had warmed since he had last seen her, and winter had all but passed in their time apart. He hoped that the soldier hadn't returned and claimed her while he had been stubbornly hiding from the effects of his temper.

He spent the day searching for her in all of the places that she tended to spend her time. She wasn't at their spot on the beach, though a part of him had hoped that his first sighting of her would be of her splashing naked through the waves. The jungle was likewise unoccupied save for the native wildlife, and though he didn't go so far as to enter the hospital, he saw and heard no signs of her there either. Discouraged, and quickly losing his nerve, he walked slowly back to one of the caves that marked the beginning of the long path to his underground home.

As he walked, the sound of his footsteps echoed along the softly glowing walls, pounding out a steady rhythm that matched the heavy beating of his heart.

When the tunnel opened before him to usher him into the large open cavern that housed his meager belongings, his eyes immediately found the small form seated on his cot and his throat grew tight.

Her head jerked up at the sudden silence and her wide blue eyes met the uncertain haze in his as he stared at her. Slowly, she rose to her feet, his own internal conflict reflected in her gaze as she closed the distance between them.

She chewed on her bottom lip nervously as she approached him, and he had to fight the overwhelming urge to pull her to him and capture it between his own teeth. He could almost hear the moan that would rise in her throat at the contact. His eyes wandered back up to hers and he saw a vulnerability there that loosened the final strands of his anger.

"Sandor..." He stayed silent, and when it became clear that he had no plans to speak, she continued. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I only told you about Sam's proposal so that you wouldn't think that I was keeping things from you. I was never going to say yes. I..." She looked almost on the verge of tears, but it was a laugh that escaped her lips and she shook her head, turning her gaze to her bare feet. "I couldn't."

Couldn't. Didn't. She wasn't there, with Samuel Collins. She was here, with him. She had chosen...him.

He cocked an eyebrow and lifted her chin to meet his eyes. "Why not, manu li'ili'i?"

She was silent for a long moment, simply staring up at him, her full lips parted and her breath puffing out in shallow gasps that revealed her nervousness.

Finally, she spoke. "Because I love you."

Kanaka- human

Lilli- jealous

Ahi- fire

Hō'ā- burn