Sansa I

When Sansa saw the soldier from the Vale at the inn, her heart went cold. Of course she recognized him. When she was living at the Vale, she would often watch the men training in the yard, along with Myranda Royce and some of the girls. It was one of the activities she would turn to in order to fill her days, and Myranda made it so much more fun than it actually was, with some lewd comments about the men. Sansa Stark would turn red at some of the things Myranda said, but Alayne Stone would just roll her eyes and laugh. She remembered that man because one of the kitchen maids was sweet on him, and that particular girl would often treat Myranda and Alayne with disdain because of the attention they received from him. Not that she wanted any of that, of course. Pretty men in pretty armor would have swept her over her feet in the past, but nowadays she felt nothing about them. Oh, how much she changed.

After her escape from the Vale she thought she was safe, that Lannisters, Littlefinger, Lords and Kings were all way behind her. She should have known better. She should have known that whatever peace she found was only temporary, for somehow her old life would be back to haunt her. She tried to get away as fast as she could from them, back to the cozy little cabin that had become her home. Her thoughts were racing, and she felt terrified and alone. Yet, when she mounted the big black horse with the Gravedigger besides her, Sansa felt safer, comforted.

Her mind was a maze, and she felt numb. Thoughts and memories were flooding her, taking her back to her days in Kings Landing, when she felt as helpless and small as a trapped Little Bird. When she found Lyara, her old fears and insecurities slowly faded: her confidence in her self-worth grew by each day, while she learned how to be strong and useful, and not fragile and hopeless. Her dreams changed as well: instead of dreams of becoming the Lady of a big castle and ruling a household, she would dream about living in a small cozy cabin, with a beautiful and lively garden, and people flocking from all around the place seeking a cure from her hands. "Alysanne" would be a renowned healer, like Lyara, known for her wisdom, confidence, and kindness. All these dreams were shattered and turned to dust in the blink of an eye. She barely felt anything, and the only thing preventing her from panicking was the solid presence of the Gravedigger besides her.

They reached the house quite quickly, and the brother hastily dismounted and helped her out of the saddle, before mounting again. Then in dawned on her: why the haste? Since their encounter with the soldiers, the Gravedigger somehow seemed to understand her need to get away, and she was even more puzzled by that. Her thoughts were a mess: since she saw him, she couldn't stop thinking about the Hound, and even more after her talk with the Elder Brother the previous night. And now, when she once again found herself in danger, the Gravedigger was there, saving her, racing her back home, away from the men who would hurt her. But why? Her heart somehow sensed the truth, but her mind was wary of the dangers of fooling herself, and needed to know for certain. So, before he could leave, she ran after him, and screamed:

"Wait! Please, wait!"

He stopped, not turning at her direction. She approached him and said:

"Please, who are you? Please, tell me, ser."

Time seemed to stand still for the moment, as he seemed to consider her question. She didn't realize she was holding her breath. After what seemed like an eternity, he turned to her, and said:

"I am no ser, Little Bird"

Her heart skipped a beat and she found it hard to breathe. After Blackwater and everything that happened ever since, Sansa thought she would never hear that voice again: coarse, dark and yet somehow comforting, like everything about him. She thought he was lost forever, but somehow, he came to her rescue once again. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she whispered:

"He is alive" and kept repeating "he is alive. He is alive".

Unlike her, Sandor knew exactly who she was. Why he never said anything? He had opportunities to talk to her, alone, and yet he didn't. Could it be that he has taken vows? How did he find himself in the Quiet Isle in the first place? It was ironic, to say the least, that someone as unsympathetic about the Gods as Sandor Clegane would end up living with the Silent Brothers. Sansa knew nothing about what happened to him after he left. The Elder Brother said he arrived at the Isle dying. "What happened to you?" she thought. She needed to see him again, and talk to him. She was unsure exactly what she would say. "I missed you. I thought about you often since you left. I thought about you on my wedding night. I kept your cloak, and I dreamed about your kiss…" Maybe not that last part, she realized. That wasn't something a proper lady should say about anyone, especially someone who wasn't her lawful husband. "But I am a lady no more", Sansa thought.

She slowly entered the little house, still musing over what just happened. Sandor Clegane was alive, and not only alive, he was also very close to her. When Lyara returned, she would ask her to go back to the Island. She would have to make up an excuse, but she would return. He left so quickly she didn't had time to talk to him. "Why would he leave so quickly…" she thought "…Oh no! No, he wouldn't… he can't…" she thought, panicking. Sansa was so absorbed in the realization that the Hound was back that she forgot about the soldiers from the Vale. They were also there, and sooner or later they would return to find her: that man wasn't convinced Sansa wasn't the 'bastard daughter' of Lord Baelish. No, he did recognize her, and he would do anything to get her back to the Vale, even if it was against her will. Maybe he would do even more: he could take her, violate her, and return her to the Vale claiming that she was already deflowered before he found her, certain that no one would doubt his word. "No one ever doubts the word of men" she thought. "This world really belongs to them, we women just happen to live here" she thought bitterly. But Sandor was her protector, he always has been. He took her home in a hurry because he noticed something was off, and now… now he was returning to fight the men who would harm her. "Oh Gods, please" Sansa prayed "let him be safe. Protect him once again, I beg you".

Sansa had no idea how long passed since he left her there, but then she heard the distinctive sound of hooves. Her heart stopped: could be them, or him. She looked outside through the crack in one of the windows: when she saw a brown robe, she left out a sigh and hurried back outside:

"Sandor!" she said, running to him. His hood was gone, and she saw his burnt face for the first time since Blackwater. But something was off: he has a hand to his side and was limping even more than before… and then she saw blood over his hand.

"Little Bird" he said, before collapsing to the ground.

"No!" she screamed, running to his side "Sandor, wake up! Please, wake up". She started to inspect him, finding a nasty cut on his left side. "Oh, no" she thought. Ripping a piece of fabric from her cloak she fastened the wound quickly to stop the bleeding. She would have to carry him to the house. Sansa realized there were bodies over Stranger's saddle and over the other two horses as well: the soldiers of the inn, apparently. "He got them all" she thought. Not wanting to waste any time, she only tied the horses to a tree nearby. "I can deal with that later" she thought.

"Why couldn't you pass out inside the house, your big fool?" she said, sighing. Mustering all of her strength, Sansa started to drag him to the house. He was heavy as a bull, and it took her a lot of effort to get him through the door. Once inside, she dragged him over to a spot next to the fireplace. Grabbing a few pelts, she tried to make a little bedding for him, so he wouldn't be as uncomfortable. She started a fire to boil some water, and started to gather the things she would need: clothes for bandages, wine, and milk of the poppy, some herbs, a needle and thread. Part of her wanted Lyara to be there to help her, but she knew there was no time to waste. She would have to work fast and she would have to work alone. "I won't fail him", Sansa thought, as she started to treat him.

First, she had to assess the damage: she removed his clothes to reveal his hairy and muscular abdomen, so she could see the wound. It was big and nasty, but it hadn't made any internal damage. She poured water and wine over the wound to clean it. He flinched, and opened his eyes, and Sansa tried to soothe him:

"It is okay, Sandor. It's alright. This is going to hurt. Drink this" she said, giving him the milk of the poppy.

"Little Bird…"

"Hush, Sandor. Just drink it" she said, and he conceded.

While she waited for the milk of the poppy to take effect, she prepared a solution to soak the bandages with, which would help in the healing process and prevent the wound from get infected. Then, she started to stitch him, carefully and slowly, as she learned from Septa Mordane. It was a delicate work, so she took her sweet time doing it. After she finished, she checked on him to see if there were any signs of a fever. There wasn't any, which was good. She used the water and wine to clean the wound once again before she applied the bandages, before inspecting her handiwork. She thought Lyara would be proud of her: it was the first time she tended to someone all by herself, and she did a pretty damn good job at it. The only thing that troubled her was that he lost too much blood for her liking, which meant that he would be weak on his feet for a long time. Sansa eyed the cot were she usually slept in with the corner of her eye, thinking that maybe he would be more comfortable lying there, but decided against it. Any effort could make her stitches to open up, and the bleeding would restart. It was best to keep him there until he was stronger. She would fetch more pelts and clothes if needed be.

After checking on him again, she decided he was stable enough to be left alone for a moment. She went outside, to the horses and tried to think about what to do: she had four bodies and a wounded man inside the house. The later hopefully could be explained: the brown brother left her at home, and returned wounded after a while, due to a meeting with one of the many bandit parties raiding the Riverlands. She could only pray that was an acceptable explanation. The four bodies, however, would be a lot harder to explain. "I have to bury them" she thought "I have no other choice". Sighing, she looked for a shovel and decided on an inconspicuous spot to plant those bastards. There was a small patch of land between the small house and the hennery, big enough for the four graves. Sansa started to dig there, wanting to get it done as quickly as possible so she could return to Sandor. She didn't have to dig very deep, just enough to hide the bodies until Sandor woke. Then he would do his thing. After all, he was the Gravedigger at the Quiet Isle.

It took her longer than she wanted, but it was done. It wasn't a good work, but it would serve. Neither Lyara nor anyone else would suspect at first glance that there were four bodies hidden there. Then, Sansa took Stranger and the other two horses to the back of the house, and fed them. It surprised her to see the black stallion considerably tamer than before, when he wouldn't even let the stable boys tend to him. It was almost nightfall when she finally returned to Sandor's side.

The night was uneventful. He slept for the most part, under the effect of the milk of the poppy. He talked a lot in his sleep, and her name found itself in his lips more often than not. "I wonder what his dreams look like" she thought. She dreamt of him often, since he departed Kings Landing. In some of her dreams he was angry, and hateful, and he scared her. But there were times when she dreamt of him rescuing her from her terrible ordeals: The Hound coming to her rescue during the bread riots, the Hound stopping Joffrey from stripping and beating her at the court, the Hound storming her mock wedding with Tyrion Lannister, the Hound throwing Littlefinger out of the Moon Door… her dreams were mostly of him saving her, and when she heard her name escaping his lips in dream state she wondered what was she doing in his dreams. "Was he thinking of me as much as I thought of him in the time since our parting?"

He woke in the morning, still dizzy from the lingering effect of the milk of the poppy. Sansa checking the bandages when he opened his eyes

"Are you alright, Sandor? Are you in pain?"

He sounded weak, but his voice was clear when he answered:

"A little… Did you fix me?"

"I did. The cut wasn't too deep, but it required some stitches. And you lost too much blood. You won't be able to walk for a few days at least"

"No… I have to… the soldiers…"

He started to fuss and twitch, but Sansa covered his arm with her small hand and said:

"I've taken care of it. It wasn't a work worth of the Gravedigger, but we should be fine for a few days. As long as it doesn't rain, that is…"

"You did?" he eyed her suspiciously. Sansa found it amusing, but wasn't surprised by his reaction. After all, the girl she used to be - the girl he once knew - wasn't capable of something like that. She chuckled and answered:

"I did. I suppose that digging graves doesn't seem like something you would picture me doing…"

"No, Little Bird"

"Well, I'm afraid I am not the same bird I was before. Perhaps I spent too much time along falcons and mockingbirds…"

"Tell me about it…" he asked. She sighed and shook her head:

"Maybe another time. Right now, I should be working on getting you on your feet again. Let's start with… soup. You need to eat to regain your strength." Sansa said, leaving for the kitchen. She knew exactly what he needed to recover quickly: it was one of Lyara's recipes, one of the many the healer shared with Sansa in the last months. She had some of the ingredients in the kitchen, and gathered the rest from the garden. The soup consisted of water, flour, butter, garlic, onions, potatoes, carrots and meat. She worked quite quickly with the soup: smash the garlic and the onions, steam it in an iron pot with some butter. Then add flour, mix, and add water. When the mixture was boiling, add cooked potatoes, carrots and meat and leave it in the fire for a few minutes. When the soup was ready, she poured it in a small bowl and returned to his side.

It was strange, feeding him like that. She remembered of the times in the past when she was fed, when she was sick, usually by her own mother, or Old Nan. It was an intimate gesture, and she certainly never pictured herself doing that to Sandor Clegane, of all people. She half expected him to be a difficult patient, but he proved to be quite well-behaved: he didn't complain about anything, did everything that she asked, which surprised her to some extent. The only exceptions were his usual cursing – whenever he felt pain, just before Sansa gave him something to dull the ache – and his requests for wine – which he did at regular basis, despite Sansa's protests that wine wouldn't help his treatment. On that first day he would sometimes make questions, trying to figure out how Sansa came to that place, but she didn't feel like telling that story just yet. He was more open than her: after the diner, as she was checking on his wound, he told her about his life after his desertion, about his encounter with the Brotherhood Without Banners, and about his time with Arya. He told her they were too late for the Red Wedding, and that afterwards he and Arya parted ways, but his tale ended there. He didn't say anything about how he arrived at the Quiet Isle, nor about the rumors that he was dead… she figured he only shared the part of his story that concerned her sister because he felt she needed to know that Arya was alive. Sansa was grateful for that small gesture. Everyone pictured Sandor Clegane as a mean and ugly bastard, but Sansa felt like she knew better: she knew that despite all of his flaws he was capable of kindness. He wasn't just a mad dog, but rather a complex and conflicted man, and Sansa believed she was the only person who ever saw him for who he was.

"Thank you for telling me" she said honestly "I had a feeling that Arya was alive. She has always been stronger than me. It's no surprise she made it so far by herself"

"I don't think she is stronger than you, Little Bird. I know both of you, and I can tell you that you are equally strong. It's just… you and your sister have a different kind of strength, that's all…"

"You think so?"

"I know"

Sansa smiled and returned to her task of changing his bandages. It felt good to have him in her life once more. Yes, she knew that his mean persona was still there, and the he would still bark and bite if provoked, like a stray dog. But when Sansa looked into his eyes, she saw his old rage was somewhat mulled. Sansa decided she liked his new self, and she could only hope that he liked hers as well. It was a whole new journey, one that she was eager to take. Sansa prayed to the gods that Lyara wouldn't return so soon. She needed some time alone with Sandor to figure out wat kind of relationship they would have now. They weren't in the Red Keep anymore, so their masks of traitor's daughter and king's dog were useless: there were no pretenses there, no lies, no hidden enemies and absolutely no one to impress. They could just be themselves - scarred and damaged as they were, but themselves, nonetheless. Sansa wasn't sure were that road would take them, but she hoped they could emerge from it as, at least, friends. And besides, she needed time to figure out what she would tell Lyara. After all, Sansa was alone in the cabin with a big and scarred man. "Oh" she thought "it will be so hard to explain that"