Sandor I

Everything that happened since he passed out outside her cabin was a blur.

The first time he woke after that he felt a pang of pain. Sansa was beside him, soothing him back to sleep:

"It is okay, Sandor. It's alright. This is going to hurt. Drink this" she said. He felt weak due to the pain and exhaustion of the combat, but he struggled to talk:

"Little Bird…"

"Hush, Sandor. Just drink it" she said, and he conceded. After he drank the concoction, he felt his limbs becoming heavy, as consciousness slipped him and he felt once again into dark oblivion. Only this time around, his sleep was filled with dreams. The Little Bird was there, of course, but not alone. First, he saw her dancing in a meadow and picking flowers, her silk gown floating with the breeze of spring, her laughter filling the air. Sansa was just like she has been once, when he first saw her at Winterfell: young, sweet and carefree, like a portrait of the Maiden. She was everything he always thought he loathed: beautiful, young, and innocent, and yet he was attracted to her like a moth to a flame. He never saw her like that again, not after everything that transpired in Kings Landing, but in his dreams, he could remember her just like she was before. Then his dream shifted to a horrid nightmare: the Little Bird was at Kings Landing, surrounded by enemies who would strip her naked and beat her up. Joffrey was there, as well as Boros, Trant, Littlefinger and even Cersei. He was paralyzed, not able to do anything as they merciless hit Sansa. She would cry his name and beg him to save her, but he was frozen in place. That's when he realized that there was a tall and broad man among Sansa's enemies: The Mountain. As he approached her, Sandor would scream, but his body was still paralyzed. Then he would rape her, again and again and again, as Sandor watched unable to do anything. Afterwards she would appear before him, bloodied and accusing:

"It's your fault" she would say "It is your entire fault. Everything that happened to me was your fault"

"I tried to save you" he would answer.

"But you failed" Sansa said. And she kept repeating "you failed".

He woke from that dream to the Little Bird tending to him. It took him a moment to process the reality: that was the real Sansa, not the one in his dream. She wasn't bloodied, and certainly not accusing him of failing her. "Maybe not just yet" he thought "but you failed her. You know it, and she knows it. If you have been able to protect her, maybe she could be with her family now. Who knows what could have changed if you stole her away from Kings Landing the moment you realized that place was going to be her downfall?". Nonetheless, the Little Bird seemed concerned about his well-being, for she asked:

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

"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"

He remembered the reason he was there in the first place and started to fuss. He couldn't stay abed for days! He had to take care of these bodies. Everything he tried to do would be for nothing if the bodies were found, so he tried to rise as he said:

"No… I have to… the soldiers…"

"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 asked, genuinely surprised. He never assumed the Little Bird would do such a thing. She has always been so delicate it seemed almost impossible to imagine her performing such a dirty task. But then, he knew she was somehow changed by whatever ordeals she went through since he left her.

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

"No, Little Bird" he answered honestly.

"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.

Spending time with the Little Bird in that cabin gave him a whole new image of the person she became after Blackwater. She was stronger, more confident. She gave him commands, and despite his beastly nature he found himself obeying her every time: "drink this", "be still", "breathe in", "don't move", "eat", "sleep". No matter the order, he would do just as she asked. He asked her questions while she was tending to his wound, about her time at the Vale, but Sansa avoided saying anything. He, on the other hand, felt he needed to tell her about her sister. The Little Bird deserved to know that the she-wolf was alive, or at least that she has been when he last saw her. He didn't have doubts that the girl was still breathing, though. She was a little fiend and a pain in the arse most of the time, but the girl had spirit and was quite handy with her "needle". He was certain that she was still alive, no matter where. The Little Bird seemed grateful that he told her about her sister and rewarded him with the sincerest smile he ever seen in her face. The she-wolf was everything that was left of her family, beside her bastard brother, and Sandor knew it meant a lot to the Little Bird to know about her fate.

Still, when he went to sleep that night, he had the same disturbing dream about the Little Bird. He woke with a start, breathing heavily. Apparently, the Little Bird was a light sleeper, for she woke up to the noise and hurried to his side:

"What is it? What happened?" she asked, startled. "What are you feeling?"

"It's nothing" he asked gruffly. "An old wound that bugs me sometimes"

"Well, tell me about it" she said "Maybe I can help. I am not as good as Lyara, but she taught me a great deal about medicines for about every pain you might have"

"Not to this one" he said, turning to his side.

"But…" the Little Bird said and, in that moment, he felt the Hound resurfacing, as he snapped at her like he used to do before:

"Bloody Hells, I said no! Just leave me be" he shouted angrily. Sandor regretted his action the next moment, when he saw the hurt in her blue eyes. But before he could say anything to try to make amends, Sansa sighed and said:

"Well, if you won't let me help then you should try to rest. Do you want me to give you something to help you sleep?"

"Little Bird…" he said, but was interrupted:

"Do you want it or not?"

"No" he answered.

"Good. Goodnight then, Sandor" Sansa said, returning to her cot. As he saw her retreating form, he felt his old anger come back, directed not to her, but to himself. No matter what he did, he was always hurting her somehow. Not only was he unable to defend her from her enemies, he also was unable to defend her from himself. When he was at the Quiet Isle, he would often visit the Elder Brother to talk about his many issues. He still didn't know exactly how the old man managed to reach him and earn his trust, but whatever the old monk did it worked. Sandor wasn't an open person, he never really shared his thoughts and memories with other people, but the Elder Brother was an exception. He felt comfortable enough to share with him his most intimate secrets: the reason behind the old and enduring hate he felt towards his brother, the origin of his self-hate, the guilt he felt over the Little Bird. The old man would listen carefully and often give some advice, which was sometimes met with silence, sometimes with brooding rage. Nevertheless, no matter how Sandor treated him, the Elder Brother would always keep his serene countenance and the next day Sandor would be back to talk to him once again. With the passing of the days, as he shared his experiences with the old man, Sandor would turn to rage less and less. It was almost like the Elder Brother was somehow healing his soul, like he healed his body. But despite all of that, he was still the same man and although his hate was restrained it never really left: that would always be a part of him, just like his hideous scars.

Sandor didn't get any more sleep that night. The next morning the Little Bird woke bright and early to check his bandages and feed him. To see her performing mundane tasks was another thing he was getting used to: back in Kings Landing the girl was unable even to dress herself without the help of a maid and here she was, fetching water, cleaning the house, tending to animals, cooking. He still could see her as she was supposed to be, as a Lady in a great castle, ruling the household, receiving guests and parading around in beautiful gowns, but he could almost as easily picture her living in a small cabin, donning a simple wool gown and the healer's apron, brewing potions and treating the smallfolk. When the Little Bird brought him his meal he said:

"About last night…"

"It's alright; I had no right to pry. You are entitled to your privacy and I cannot blame you for that. Some things are… difficult to share"

"I shouldn't have shouted at you like that"

"It's alright. It wouldn't be the first time"

"Yes" he said, feeling again all the guilty from his horrible dream fill his thoughts once again "It wouldn't be. That's one of too many regrets"

The Little Bird seemed surprised and eyed him quizzically:

"I never imagined you were the kind of man that harbors regrets."

"Why not?"

"Well, you always do as you please. I know that you have always been at service of lords and doing their bidding, but I never thought any of the things they ordered you to do would bring you remorse. You said once that killing is the sweetest thing…" Sansa answered, avoiding his eyes. Despite her newfound confidence he felt that somehow her old nature – that of a shy and delicate maiden – was still there, just like his old crudeness.

"Aye, I did. But I mostly repent things that I haven't done"

"Like what?" Sansa asked, looking him in the eyes. At the sight of her big blue eyes, he found it difficult to lie, so he settled for the truth:

"Not being nice to you, for once"

And then she laughed – really laughed – a sweet and rich sound feeling the air of the little cabin:

"The Hound being nice? Gods, I cannot even imagine that…"

"Well, it ain't easy, that's for sure"

"I can imagine." She said, smiling again. Silence fell, as she resumed feeding him. Sandor felt strong enough to do it himself, but he had no heart to tell it to her. Doing that would only cause him to lose his best excuse to be close to the Little Bird. Never before he imagined that he would be fed by Sansa Stark herself, but now that it happened, he couldn't complain. After a few moments he spoke again, with a deep and serious tone:

"I mostly regret not being able to save you. Back then…"

Sansa stopped what she was doing and looked at him, as if he sprouted a second head:

"I don't know what you mean"

Sandor looked away from her before answering:

"You sure do, girl. Back in Kings Landing… They would strip you, beat you and I did nothing"

"Of course you did. You saved me"

"I did no such thing" he answered with a nervous chuckle, still avoiding her eyes. Sansa reached out to his face – the ruined side – and turned his head to look back at her, while she spoke:

"Yes, you did. In the battlements, when Joffrey took me to show me my father's head, I was ready to throw myself at him. I didn't care what happened to me, as long as I was able to take him with me. You stepped before me, and stopped me. I know it was your job saving him, but you saved me as well…" she said, her voice full of emotion. "And you often gave me advice, on how to deal with them. In the bread riots you came to my rescue, saving me from pain and death… even when Joffrey got me stripped, it was your cloak covering me. Two days ago, you killed four men to prevent them from taking me, getting wounded in the process. How can you say you didn't save me? It was all you ever did."

Sandor closed his eyes and sighed, letting all the pain and shame he felt in the last months wash over him. No matter what Sansa said, it wasn't enough, it was never enough. He could have done better; he should have done better. He didn't realize it back then, but in the time since his near death he found himself revisiting the past and he found that whatever he did for her was too little too late. So, he told her:

"It wasn't enough"

With his eyes closed like that he couldn't see the Little Bird, but then she grabbed his big hand between her slender ones and brought it close to her heart, as she said:

"Yes, it was. It was more than enough for me to mourn your supposed death and pray every night that you found the peace you never had in this world in the afterlife"

Sandor was speechless by her admission. When he was lying there, dying, he imagined no one would mourn his parting. If much there would be some celebrating that the world was one monster shorter. Yet somehow the girl he regretted not saving apparently saw him as a savior of sorts, to the point of being distressed by his death. She continued:

"You have always been the only one willing to save me. In the night of the battle, I prayed for you: I prayed to the Gods to keep you safe, and for the Mother to… take away your rage. And when I heard you were dead, I cried. I actually cried for many nights afterwards."

This confession surprised him even more. He hasn't been recipient of many tears or prayers – not after his sweet sister died, and certainly not prayers for his safety. To know that the Little Bird genuinely felt about his "death" was overwhelming, and Sandor felt something stirring inside him. He wasn't quite sure what that was – he had no name for it yet. Instead, he focused on the present, and answered honestly:

"You wasted your tears on the likes of me, Little Bird"

"Well, they were mine to spill." She answered, smiling. Sansa gave his hand a final squeeze before she hurriedly stood and muttered something about tending to the animals. As he saw her leaving, Sandor thought he never seen her more beautiful.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Sansa did her chores while he was left resting. After midday he tried to rise by himself, only to fall due to his weakness. Sansa scolded him like he was a 4-year-old boy and not a grown man, but ultimately helped him stand. He still felt weak and dizzy, but at least he was on his feet again. Sansa decided he would sleep in the bed that night. He protested at first, but then she assured him she would be sleeping at Lyara's bed, not the floor, and he conceded it. After they had dinner Sansa helped him to the cot, checking on the wound once again. The stitches were still in place, and it was healing nicely. After a while she broke the silence:

"You know, I thought of you often after you left. I used to wonder what would have happened if I left with you that night"

"I used to wonder the same"

"It's strange, isn't it? We took different roads; we have been in different places, with different people. Yet somehow, our fates were brought together once again" she said, with a faraway look on her face. He chuckled at that and turned to self-loathing, as usual:

"Well, what a bad luck you have"

At that the Little Bird rolled her eyes in a not-very-ladylike-way, sighed and said:

"Stop being like that. I told you already, you have done more than enough for me. I owe you more than you realize"

"You owe me nothing, girl"

"If you say so… but know this: I do have regrets on my own. If I could go back in time and change things, I would have. I wouldn't ever go to Kings Landing in the first place. If I could erase that part of my life, I would." She said, and for a moment he wished she could do just that. She didn't deserve all the pain and heartbreak that befallen her after she left her home. But the Little Bird wasn't done yet, for she continued: "And yet, I know that even if I was back in Winterfell with my family I would feel as if a part of me was missing. If it wasn't for Kings Landing, I wouldn't have you as a… friend. And I would hate to lose you, Sandor Clegane"

He didn't have an answer to her. In the space of a day the Little Bird surprised him in more ways he thought possible. Apparently, she didn't hate him as he assumed. Yes, they seemed to have a very distinct view of things: he always felt as he failed her somehow, yet Sansa saw him as a friend and a savior. Part of him – the part of him that was self-loathing and suspicious of the whole world – told him it was just a ruse, that she was lying to him like everyone else. But there was another, bigger part of him that knew the Little Bird would never do such thing. Sansa would never mislead him like that, so whatever she said was said from the heart. Besides, she was a terrible liar, and he was very good at sniffing falsehood. After a while Sansa said:

"Now rest. You didn't get much sleep last night."

He felt the tiredness from his restless night, as sleep slowly claimed him. But this time he had a different dream. He saw her again, surrounded by enemies who were about to beat her, humiliate her, rape her. But this time around he wasn't paralyzed like before: he drew his sword and launched at those bastards, cutting and slicing each and every one of them: Joffrey's head bounced on the floor, just after he chopped it off; Cersei's beautiful golden gown turned crimson as he drove his sword through her belly with malicious pleasure; he ripped out Littlefinger's eyes, just before cutting his belly and letting his guts spill to the floor; He punched Boros' face so hard and so many times that all that was left was a bloody mass of flesh and hair; Trant's arms were cut off, and then his legs, and he was left screaming and bleeding in the ground. In the end, the only one remaining between him and the Little Bird was his brother. It was a long fight, but in the end, Sandor was able to overpower him and throw him at a fire pit, where his flesh burnt horribly as the Mountain screamed.

"You did it" the Little Bird was saying then "You saved me"

"Aye, Little Bird"

And then – just like in a bloody line of a bloody song – she ran to him and kissed him: a Lady's favor for her champion.

He realized he liked this dream way better than the other.