"Promises" Sandor/Sansa Fic - Part 10
"Promises"
After Blackwater Battle Sandor and Sansa run across broken country and eventually the narrow sea.
Fandom: ASoIaF | Pairing: Sansa/Sandor | Spoilers: DwD
Rating: R (violence/sexuality)
Word Count: 37,000 total (parts 1-10)
Parts: 10 / 10
[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3] [ Part 4] [ Part 5] [ Part 6] [ Part 7] [ Part 8] [ Part 9] [ Part 10]
Never…
The snow whipped against her. She was running, she was trying as hard as she could while the tears tore down her face and the snow grew deeper and deeper against her nakedness.
The fire glowed in the darkness and she heard his screams, watched as he thrashed and cried and fell.
"NO!" She cried out, choking in the darkness.
The red eyes burned into her soul as the white-haired woman screamed.
Only you...
Sansa opened her eyes. The sun was lower in the sky, sending heavy shadows out from the rolling hills and jagged rocks. At first she couldn't believe she had fallen asleep again but when she returned to consciousness and remembered and felt the peace seep in around her she sighed and leaned back into the grass. She reached out blindly towards where he had been but he was gone. There was a cloak draped over her and she hugged it close.
Carefully she rolled herself onto her elbows and looked around. Stranger was a short distance off grazing idly by the lake just below the hillside she rested on. A short ways down the bank of the lake there lay a small garden of stony ruins, jutting out of the green grass and the blue of the water, Amongst them was Sandor's hulking figure, bending down to add some sticks to a pile she assumed must be for a fire.
Steadily she raised herself to her feet, shocked that her knees still tried to buckle under her even after her rest. But she caught herself and carefully began to step down the hill. Her woman's place still throbbed dully but it was hardly noticeable and she told herself it would be gone soon enough.
Finally she reached the bottom of the knoll and walked by the sandy lake-shore as she made her way over to the ruins Sandor was setting up camp in.
"Where did you find wood?" She asked as she reached him.
His eyes shot up when she spoke. She held the cloak closer to her shoulders and tried to smile in the face of his shock. He lowered his gaze as if he was angry, but she couldn't help but notice the hungry way his eyes sparkled when he saw her and the almost arrogant pride that seemed to swell in him.
"There's driftwood in the ruins." He said.
"Ghoyan Drohe," She corrected.
"What?" He growled.
"The ruins," She said as she seated herself down on one of the stones, "They're Ghoyan Drohe- the outskirts most likely."
"Standing stones." He returned as he kicked the sticks together into a heap.
She stared at him.
"Ghoyan Drohe is on the Little Rhoyne." He grumbled slightly and sat down.
There was a strange sense around them and she wished it would go away.
"Do you regret it yet?" He finally rasped at her.
When she look at him he had a bitter smile on his face.
"Of course not," She answered incredulously.
"Don't worry," He said as he turned his angry face towards the lake, "You will."
She felt the anger surge in her chest. It pushed her up to her feet and she turned her back on him as she walked several feet away. The tears began to swell in her chest but she spun instead and strode back towards him. He glanced up at her idly with that mocking look at his face and she hit him hard.
"Why can't you be happy?" She threw at him as he stared up into her furious eyes, "Why can't you just accept what I've given you and be happy!?"
She felt the tears burning in her eyes but Sandor reached out and swept her off the ground, holding her against him as she sat in his lap.
"I'm sorry, Little Bird." He mumbled into her neck, "I'm not good at happiness."
She pulled herself away slightly to look into his eyes, "You can try."
He ran a finger over her lip, "I can't help but try."
He laughed suddenly.
"What is it?" She asked.
"You," He chuckled, "You are so still and then light up so bright- with those blue eyes of yours, and that red hair, you're like ice and fire."
Sansa smiled as he ran his thick fingers through her hair, "Ice and fire?"
"Aye," He rumbled as he pushed the strands away to kiss the fragile white of her neck.
She giggled to herself, "I like that."
"Good," He smiled, running the burned side of his face along her throat and she shivered at the smooth strange feeling.
His hand slipped down her back and he gave her rump a solid pat, "Go on," He said, "I'll start a fire."
She turned to face him, "It isn't even dark."
"It will be soon, and it was cold last night- don't you remember?"
She shook her head earnestly as she stood and he righted himself, she couldn't help noticing how he adjusted himself through his breeches and felt the warm flames start to lick about her stomach again.
He knelt down by the fire with the flint from Stranger's saddlebags and she casually stepped out towards the water of the lake.
It was so still, so perfectly and beautifully still. The surface of the water was turning pink and golden as the sun sunk over the horizon. She knelt and ran her fingertips over the warm face of the lake sending the ripples out into infinity, making the light of the sky dance over the surface.
The cloak slipped from her shoulders and she silently slipped the torn shreds of her dress away into a small pile at her feet. The air slinked around her naked body and she held her arms out to either side and turned her face to the sky as she felt the cleansing cold.
Sansa laughed and dived long and lean out into the water. It closed over her, pure and cool, and clean, and then she shot up, throwing her hair behind her in the light and pushing the water back from her face as she stood again.
The water was still shallow where she was and the small waves of her motion lapped against her thighs idly.
"Seven hells," She heard rumble behind her.
She turned and saw him standing by the licking fire staring at her.
Her face colored ever so slightly and ever so prettily in the light of the sunset and she ran a hand down her wet hair, realizing how little she cared that he could see her pure and naked, how little it mattered, how right it felt, how real and pure and true.
"You're so bloody beautiful." He said.
She smiled in the sunlight.
"Come here," He said, his voice rough as stone and eyes hungry, "Let me look at you."
"It's cold," She complained idly.
"I couldn't give a fucking damn." He grinned.
She stuck out her lip but stepped gracefully back towards the shore.
He couldn't take his eyes off her and she felt her chest surge as she watched them travel over every inch of her naked body.
"Turn." He commanded.
She laughed as she obeyed, "You've seen me disrobed before… in the courtyard, in the stream--"
"That wasn't like this." He growled, "You're mine now, even if it is just for now."
She stepped closer and reached her hand out towards him, "It's not just for now…"
His fingers snatched hers and he pulled hard. She cried out in surprise but his firm arm caught her easily and lifted her up.
He kissed under the curve of her breast and then the side and finally her tight nipple and growled as he pressed his face into her bosom.
"You taste as good as you smell." He said and she ran a hand through his hair.
"Wait-" She said suddenly as his hands slid over her eagerly, "It's not fair, I want to see you."
He laughed for a moment as he lowered her down to the bank, "What?"
She grinned and let the pink plumpness of her lip catch in her teeth and she ran her hands over him and then slipped them under his shirt and mail to the smooth hardness of his body underneath. His face seemed shocked but the fire in his eyes was in hers as well and he nodded roughly.
He tugged the shirt over his head and she pushed against him before he could reach for the mail, feeling the coolness of the metal ringlets slip against her skin delightfully. Sandor watch her with a smirk on his face and then pulled that off as well.
Sansa stared at him, her face just level with his chest and the criss-crosses of scars buried under the dark hair. She ran her hand carefully, tentatively over him and she felt him shudder under her. He was so strong, like iron and rock under the warmth of his skin. So many scars…
She ran a finger over one of them and looked up into his eyes heavy with desire, "Where did you get this?"
"I don't know girl," He said, catching her face in his hand and running a heavy thumb over the line of her jaw, "I don't remember most."
"Most?"
He caught her meaning and rolled his forearm over to show her a clean white line that went across it, "That's from King's Landing… my first battle, and then of course…" He voice trailed as his face darkened but she ignored it. She lay her parted lips over the scar on his arm, and then the one of his chest, letting her hot tongue dart out just slightly.
His hand ran down her back and over her arse, gripping her hard as he shuddered under her lips.
She kissed another, lower, and then a small white "c" right where the muscles that lay thick over where the bones of his hips jutted out. Her hand slid up the side of his leg carefully and easily.
"Sansa," She heard him start to protest but she didn't listen and let her open mouth press against the thick weight of his cock tight against his breeches.
His hand tightened hard in her hair and she rubbed her cheek against him, addicted to his heat and firmness. She let her mouth catch around him again and found the end and pressed her lips firmly. She felt him jump under her and almost laughed in fascinated surprise.
Suddenly her caught her under the arms and lifted her cleanly up. She wrapped her legs about his waist and fell into the delicious loss of his tongue, the smell of sweat and the way his chest rumbled against her breasts when her teeth caught on his lip.
He started to carry her and then she felt the cool stone strong behind her back and shivered.
He pulled his hungry mouth from hers and pressed his thumb against her lip, "Stand." He directed and she did.
Once her feet were touching the ground he slid his hand around her side and down steadily until his palm lay felt over the cool damp of her mound. Her breathing was ragged now and her heart jumped as he stared at her mouth while he steadily pressed his thumb between her lips and she caught it warm and tight.
His fingers slipped between her legs, pressing and exploring, running carefully over the folds and layers of her as his knuckles grazed her inner thighs and his thumb went back and forth inside her mouth. His hand pressed through the top of her lower lips and she felt her knees buckle as his rough fingers grazed her clit.
He smiled and pulled his thumb from her lips to hold her face steady so she couldn't look away from him.
Her eyes burned into his but when he pressed her there again they fluttered shut and she heard herself moan as her hips jolted against him. He did it again and again, watching in awe each time she thrashed against him but all the while keeping her still enough to maintain control.
She felt herself slicken with each rub of his finger and the he stopped and she opened her eyes in surprise only to see his watching her with such intensity. She held his gaze as she felt his hand lower and then steadily and slowly press one finger into her.
She gasped and her hands scrambled to reach him but he snatched them up and held them tight over her head and she whined in frustration and kissed him harder than she meant to.
His hand pressed against her, into the wet warmth and then stopped and drove in again with two fingers as she moaned fully against his neck. He pulled back to stare at her as he drove his hand into her again and again and she stared down and watched with catching breath as his rough fingers dove wet and shining in the firelight into the copper of her hair.
She tightened and his breath caught and he pressed harder and harder and faster and faster and she threw her head back as if to scream but there was no sound just the blinding pleasure as she felt her body let go and slip around him.
Finally he slowed but his breath was still ragged as he lifted his hand from her and ran a wet finger over her lip. She let her tongue dash out to hold him in the warmth of her lips again and she tasted salt that had never seemed sweeter.
His grip loosed on her hands and slowly but strongly they locked to his belt and pulled him close, struggling the the clasps and ties. He pushed her back with a hand between her breasts to do them himself and she let one hand drift idly down the length of him as the thrumming sensation still dancing between her legs hummed over her.
As soon as his hands finished their work she slid her palms under the waist of his breeches, pushed them down, and suddenly her was there before her. She let herself collapse before him, one hand locking around the length of him while her mouth explored with starving desire. She tasted the bitter salt on his tip and wished there was more, singing inside when he thrust against her lapping tongue.
Her lips pressed down his length and she felt his firm warmth against the softness of her tongue as he groaned loudly and couldn't help pushing deeper into her.
She held him to keep from choking and pressed down as far as she could go again, slowly and deeply but then he was lifting her, her back hit the stone hard and his fingers pulled her open before he thrust deep into her warmth.
Sansa cried out but he didn't seem to notice, he drove into her again and again, hardly holding back as he had before. Her legs wrapped tight around him but his hands held her so strongly that she felt her legs loosed and widen to let him plunge even deeper. His stubble scratched her face with the first thrusts and then he pulled back and when she looked she saw with a thrill of excitement that he was watching as the length of him left her almost fully and then steadily dove again even deeper. She felt her throat moan every time and then he sped, pounding into her with such ferocity that she thought she might break but didn't even care. Her nails drove into his back and she felt her heels drive into his buttocks in time with the thrusts driving him faster and faster as if he was a horse in the yard.
He gasped and his thrust pressed into her trying to go as deep as it possible could. She tightened and when she saw how it made him shudder she did it again and then stilled as he did.
His damp forehead rested heavily on her shoulder and she leaned back into the cool of the rock. He kissed her throat openly and roughly and then put her down. She almost fell on her useless legs and he caught her and laughed.
"That good?" He rumbled as he stared at her under heavy eyes.
She nodded idly as she tried to get her footing again.
He pushed her hair out of her face, "I've never tried to pleasure a woman before." He said.
She looked up into his grey eyes, "I've never… well, I don't know what it's called."
Sandor laughed, "I bloody well know you haven't."
She felt her cheeks heat indignantly, "Was it that… unpracticed?"
He laughed at her again and caught her face in his hands and kissed her solidly.
"It was better than killing, girl." He said, "I could drown in your lips and your teats and your cunt and not notice if the whole fucking world was on fire."
She blushed but felt her heart dance all at once.
He slapped her arse firmly, "Now have your swim. I'll get the food."
She did as she was told and by the time she was walking back up the bank the smell of stew was floating in the air and her skin felt freezing against the cool of the night.
Sandor tossed his cloak at her with a smile and she wrapped it around her shoulders as she settled in beside the fire, the warm bowl of stew in her hands and it's flavor filling her mouth.
"Well," He said, "How are we going to find your dragon queen?"
"It shouldn't be difficult," Sansa said confidently, "Dragons shouldn't be hard to find."
Sandor snorted, "I've told you girl there are no dragons, they've been gone a long time now."
"But Illyrio said- the sailors--" She began urgently.
"People like tales of grand things," Sandor said, "You should know that by now. I'm sure there's something, maybe some overgrown lizards or a fire machine, but no dragons."
Sansa turned back to her stew, "They said there were no direwolves." She muttered into her bowl.
Sandor ignored her, "If we keep heading east I'm sure we'll get word and we can move from there."
Sansa nodded glumly.
"Here-" He growled at her, reaching out and snatching at her to pull her in close, "You're too pretty to brood."
He kissed her and when he let her go again she knew she couldn't help smiling.
"That thing…" She began, "That I did before…"
Sandor grinned lewdly, "Aye?"
She returned her gaze with her own smile, "Could I maybe try again?"
When Sansa woke he was still asleep beside her. The sky was bright and blue once again and getting lighter. Sandor's breathing was steady against her cheek and the embers of the fire were all but burned out. Very carefully she pulled herself free from his arms and stood amongst the rocks of the ruins.
She stretched and pulled her hair behind her head as she slipped into one of the thin simple dresses she had brought with her. Once she was tidy she let her feet carry her down towards the lake-side.
Everything was so still, there wasn't even a bird in their air or the sound of wind. She looked around for Stranger but did not see him.
Carefully she knelt down beside the water, so still is was almost a mirror. He loins ached dully under her but it was good feeling and she relished in the memories that had placed it there. She looked down into the crystal surface of the water.
No longer a maiden. I don't seem to look so very different.
Something stirred in the stillness.
She turned her head slowly and suddenly froze. The ruins were moving.
Along the edge of the bank a massive black shape stretched it's neck into the sky. Huge wings unfurled casually as a blast of heat shot from the great mouth to surround the dead animal clutched in it's talons. Sansa felt sickness rise inside her as it lowered it's head to rip one of Stranger's legs free and swallow it whole.
The monster turned idly and then it's burning red eyes locked onto her and Sansa Stark screamed.
---------
She covered her mouth as soon as the scream left but she knew it was too late. The dragon lifted it's head into the air and let out it's own massive roar and she felt the ruins around her shake.
It started to move, unwind like a building collapsing with intentional grace. The thick black scales shining in the sunlight and all the while those burning eyes staring straight through her.
The eyes from my dreams…
She couldn't seem to move, she could hardly breath all she could see were those burning pools of red slinking closer and closer as the stony body blocked out that sky.
A strong hand hit her shoulder and shoved her behind his back and reality crashed down around her.
He was there: staring up in dumb shock at the thing before them. She realized in horror that he hadn't even had time to don a shirt or mail but instead stood there, chest bare as he had slept holding the broadsword as well as he could between her and the face of fire.
Sansa watched his gaze snap to the pile of charred meat by the bank and heard him groan with heartbreaking depth.
The dragon stepped closer, the water of the lake hissing and flying into steam around it's clutching claws. Her hand latched to his arm, grabbing it as hard as she could.
He stepped back heavily as it moved towards them and then suddenly the scaled head lashed out like a striking snake. Sansa screamed as Sandor pushed her and roared as he swung the blade around, catching the side of the monster's snout with the sound of steel meeting stone.
The beast swung on him again, it's eyes blazing with no more than a thin scratch on it's scales where Sandor's mighty blow had struck it.
He hit it again, slicing across the obsidian forehead so hard sparks flew into the air and the thing cried out, rolling back onto it's hind legs and lashing it's mighty wings in the air.
Sansa felt her breath catch in her throat as her eyes widened to fit all of it's form filling the sky.
"Run!" She heard him roar at her.
And then it was back on all fours and lashing at Sandor with a jagged claw.
He fell as he dodged it's path but not fast enough. Sansa felt her heart leap into her throat as she saw the rocky sharp catch against his shoulder and rip open the flesh in a clean red slice.
Sandor hardly seemed to notice. He rolled to one side and when the monster's hand dug into the earth he turned and with a massive cry drove the sword straight through where the scales of it's arm broke to meet those of it's hand.
She watched in horrified awe as he drove it deeper and deeper while the monster screamed and lashed, pulling free just in time to dive beneath the other hand swinging towards him in raw anger.
He ran as he landed and the fire exploded just behind him. The grass crackled and burst into blackness as the lake steamed into mist all around them and Sandor pounded across the grass.
Sansa watched as the beast writhed and squirmed, roaring in rage into the blue sky and then she felt his steely hand grab her arm.
He practically threw her to her feet and the monster's neck snapped towards them. She hardly felt the earth under her feet as they rushed towards the ruins. The jagged intake of air into a stony throat echoed behind her and Sandor hurled them behind the first stone.
The fire exploded behind them- licking around the corners of the stone, heating the ancient rock behind their backs. His hand was hard on hers, holding it tight and when she looked into his face she saw the his terror. And then as soon as the flames stopped he was gone, hurling himself around the ruin to slam the blade across the monster's face.
Sansa heard the slice, and Sandor's heavy grunt of effort and her feet moved before she could think, bringing her around the ruins so see him: bleeding heavily from his shoulder, chest heaving, face a mask of pure rage as he lifted the sword again.
He swung and the dragon shied away from the blow, snapping out at him with a cry.
There was something else- another sound somewhere in her ears, a rumbling almost like hoof-beats. She couldn't think. She could hardly see, her eyes were filling with tears and she didn't know why.
Sandor's blade caught it across it's open mouth but it's tail swung around and stuck his legs out from under him.
Far off, she heard herself scream.
Sandor struggled to his feet but the beast lashed out again with all of it's strength and his body flew, crashing into the stones with a sickening crack.
The tears ripped down her face now and her feet her running, running as fast as she could but it wasn't fast enough.
He tried to stand, he tried to reach his sword but the claws found him first, smashing him back into the stone and pressing tight, pinning him to the ruin as he coughed hard and red flew from his lips, the lips that had kissed her, the lips that had promised her.
"STOP!" She cried as her feet caught under her. She crashed into the dirt and her skin split but it didn't matter.
The beast pressed it's scaled face close to his, staring in empty fascination as his body twitched under the tightening claws. Sandor raised his face to meet that fiery gaze and gritted his teeth. His hand shot free and he slammed a rock as hard as he could into the dragon's eye.
The screamed exploded as it fell back scratching at it's face in confusion and pain as Sandor's body crumbled into pile at the foot of the ruin.
Sansa flew into him, her hands scrambling over his body, searching, desperate. His breathing was choked and wretched and each intake of air shot through her like steel. As his eyes shot back and forth emptily he didn't even seem to see.
"No, no, no", her voice muttered dumbly and she reached up and held his face, "Sandor!"
And then his eyes focused, his throat caught and she felt his hand tighten against her wrist.
She gasped out a tortured smile, "It's gone- it's gone, you did it, it's fine now."
"No," His voice rumbled, torn and tattered, "Go, go now."
His stare shot desperately to her face and she felt him try to push her aside with shocking strength.
"You're hurt, you're hurt I can't--"
"Sansa,"
"No!"
"Sansa!" He cried as he stared over her shoulder.
She heard the sound.
She spun and all she saw was the gaping jaws of the beast as the air rushed in and she saw the flames begin to glow deep in the endless throat, deep and dark and so very hot that for an instant it almost felt cold and then all she could see was snow.
Never…
She felt herself slip- it was cold and strange and then so very hot, there was a searing pain against her eye and rage and huger and then she saw a girl with red hair and blue eyes, hands tight around the limp form of the prey. Panic surged through a mind, ripping and tearing and trying to break free but one command seared through the rest like a blinding light:
"No!"
Sansa fell.
The dragon roared as it fled to the sky and another scream, a woman's, sounded in the distant.
She felt her body drop against his, warm and slick and solid. Her vision was fading as the steam from the lake swam all around, and somewhere in that fog, where three riders- a man made of rainbow, a tall knight who seemed somehow familiar, and the woman with the white hair.
A laugh almost escaped her- dreaming, only dreaming.
As she slipped into unconsciousness the monster sailed through the blue of the sky. As small as a bird.
------------
Sansa's feet were still shaky when she made her way into the thick white of the tent. Outside the sounds of horses and camp echoed through the hills and across the lake. Every once in a while the shadows of dragon wings would darken the sky.
Each time one of their distant roars sounded she felt her body wince but she had to be brave.
"It's alright, Lady Stark," A kind voice sounded beside her, "The Queen is waiting."
She turned into the gentle face of Ser Barristan Selmy.
"Ser Barristan?" She gasped.
"You recognize me?" He asked, "I didn't think you would remember and old man."
In her mind's eyes she saw his face fill with rage as he threw his sword at Joffrey's feet before the King draped it around Sandor's shoulders.
I wonder if he hates him…
She realized for the first time that cloak she had clung to was truly his.
"Of course I remember you, Ser." She tried to smile.
She was still so tired, her heart was exhausted and all she wanted to do was collapse in her own tent, besides the heavy weight of Sandor's body. But she had to be there, she had to be strong.
"If you would be so kind..." She said.
He nodded his head courteously and led her through the tent to the antechamber.
Sansa ducked beneath the lifted canvas to see the Queen waiting for her. She was beautiful, and her eyes seemed calm but there was something dark there as well.
She rose to meet her and Sansa felt her knees duck into a bow subconsciously, "Your Grace."
Dany's hand lifted her chin gently and she regarded her.
"Are you sure it's her?" She asked Ser Barristan.
"Yes," The knight said, "It has been sometime but I'm sure it's her."
"Sansa Stark…" Dany said.
"Your Grace," Sansa bowed once more.
"Ned Stark's daughter."
"My father is dead, Your Grace." Sansa answered, keeping her blue stare strong as she could.
Dany gazed at her carefully, "As is mine."
They stood quietly and the echoes of the camp outside seeped around them.
"Ser Barristan," Dany said, turning towards the knight with a friendly countenance, "You may leave us."
The old man nodded, and gave Sansa a forced smile as he pushed his way into the main canopy of the tent.
"Please," Dany gestured, "Be seated."
Carefully Sansa lowered herself down onto the pillowed floor as Dany sat opposite her.
She said nothing, just watched her, running her eyes over her face with care.
"I owe you a great debt," Sansa said finally, "For taking us in as you have."
Dany turned her eyes, "You were injured and, well, I should not have allowed it to happen,"
She hesitated and then looked at Sansa again "But it was more than that. My priest… He said he's seen him in the fires, that he has an important part yet to play."
Foggy memories danced through Sansa's mind, her body being laid down inside a tent, her eyes searching for Sandor and seeing a man as black and ominous as a shadow looming beside them, blazing with red and light.
Dany's eyes shone in the shadows of the tent; "Ser Barristan tells me this Sandor Clegane is a rough-hearted man…"
Sansa said nothing.
"He hurt Drogon," She continued, but her voice was sharp, "He will recover… I suppose he does not need both of his eyes."
"He killed his horse." Sansa heard herself say.
Dany's eyes flamed but she said nothing.
"He was protecting me." Sansa finished quietly.
"You protected him." Dany said suddenly, "What did you do?"
Sansa stammered, "I- I don't know what--"
"You do. AndI felt it." Dany said, her voice was low and for the first time Sansa thought she sense fear in her.
"I felt you," She continued, "I heard you command him and I felt his mind scream in fear."
Sansa rolled her hands together awkwardly, "I know, but… I'm sorry, I don't know what happened."
"Shall I tell you what I think happened?" Dany said.
Sansa didn't know what to say.
"I've heard tales of the North…" Dany continued, "Of Wildings who can sit inside the minds of animals and make them their slaves."
"No-" Sansa started, "No, I can't, it's not like that--"
"It is… it was. I felt it. I saw it. You stopped him…" Suddenly her voice saddened, "I should have been there. I should have stopped him."
Sansa stared into the silk of the pillows under her. I did stop it… I saw myself, I saw with his eyes.
"I could't believe," Dany said, "When I saw him land those blows… no one has ever been able to face them like that."
Sansa didn't want to think about it.
"You're lucky to have such a brave knight."
"He's not a knight." Sansa answered sharper than she meant to.
"But he is yours." Dany replied.
Sansa felt her stare and met it, "Yes, he's mine."
"How old are you, Sansa?" She asked.
"Thirteen, Your Grace."
Dany smiled ever so slightly but Sansa thought she saw sadness in her face, "I was thirteen when I fell in love."
Sansa felt her heart start to beat in her chest.
"Unfortunately my love was too far gone for saving…" Her voice trailed off and Sansa was suddenly struck by the strength of her, how she seemed so sad one minute and pushed it all away the next to look at her once more: full and direct.
"You do love him, don't you?" Dany said.
The answer came without thought.
"Yes," Sansa breathed.
There was silence and then Dany spoke once more.
"Why?"
Sansa felt the tears start to swell in her eyes, "Because," She almost gasped, "Because he's strong without trying to be, because he's brave in the face of hope he doesn't feel is there… because he's seen so much darkness, so much evil, and still I can tell that he believes in the light."
The sun was lowering in the sky and the light inside the tent was thickening to golden.
"Because he made me a promise, and I know he'll keep it." She almost whispered.
Dany sat, still, her eyes never leaving Sansa's face.
"He has seen you in the fires as well," Dany said gently, "My priest,"
Sansa couldn't seem to speak.
Dany nodded, "The girl with eyes of ice and hair of flame… 'Winter's Lost Child' he calls you: The Queen of the North…"
Sansa felt her stomach jump inside her.
"Is that why you sought me out?" Dany asked carefully, "Is that what you want? To be the Queen of the North?"
Sansa could almost feel the cool of the wind on her skin, smell the heavy wet of snow and the warm stones of Winterfell's walls.
"I want to go home." She said, "That's all I want: home."
Dany smiled, "As do I."
----
It was dark when Sansa slipped past the silken folds of her tent. The sides were shifting gently in the breeze and the thick smell of the coals in the glowing brazier seeped around her.
She eased off her shoes as she stepped calmly over the softness of the spread carpets to the cot where his breathing echoed deep and constant. His chest was bandaged tightly along with his shoulder but the priest had proven a powerful healer and he had assured her all would be well.
Sansa let herself sink down onto the silken pillows and furs and ran a hand gently over the side of his face.
He growled huskily and without opening his eyes reached out and locked his arms around her.
She squealed slightly as he rolled and carried her with him.
His face snuck into her neck as his hands slunk around her waist.
She rolled as best as she could and pushed the dark strands of his hair aside, "How are you?"
"As I was before you left." He muttered.
The grief was still in his face and she hated it but knew that there was nothing to be done.
"You saw her?" He asked.
Sansa nodded.
The anger was still seething in him. She knew it was hard for him, to sit there under their protection, in their alliance after what that thing had done. But he knew they had saved them as well- hurt him and healed him, in the end it almost amounted to nothing.
"What did she say?" He asked roughly.
Sansa felt her lips smile, "She said she'd take me home."
Sandor's skepticism blazed in his stare, "To her brother? To marry and give them your North?"
"No," Sansa said, "She says she'll make me a Queen, a Queen she can trust, a Queen that the banners will rally behind."
"Why?" He asked roughly, "Why would she do that?"
"She knows that if she gives me this, I will always be loyal to her, always trust her, always stand by her no matter what darkness comes. And she is right."
Sansa pushed her hand between them and felt his heart beating solidly under the warmth of his chest.
"But she can do more than that." She whispered.
"What more?" Sandor almost laughed bitterly, "What could you want besides your name and your castle? How else could she buy your bloody loyalty?"
Sansa gazed into the grey of his eyes, the storm of his anger and bitterness but beneath it all that glowing warmth that he tried to hide but could never slip from her sight now.
"She wants me to marry whomever I choose. She says she's seen 'requirement' and felt 'duty' and it's nothing to love… she wants to give me that, maybe because she knows she can't have it. And I want it."
Sandor stared into her eyes. He didn't seem to be able to speak.
So she did; "You know what's strange?"
His voice was rough when he answered her, "What?"
"The first time we met--"
"At Winterfell, in the courtyard,"
"No," She insisted, "Not then… the first time we spoke. When I was afraid of Ilyn Payne and you were there, as if by fate."
Sandor laughed slightly, "It wasn't bloody fate, girl." He pushed a hand through her hair as he stared into her eyes, "I'd been following you… I couldn't stop looking at you, not since the first time I laid eyes on you. There was something about you… there is something about you."
She slipped her hand around his own, "I know… I think I knew even then, even if I was too blind to see it. I felt it. When I stepped back, so afraid, and I felt your hand on my shoulder, I thought it was my father… even then, even before I knew you, you made me feel so safe."
Sandor kissed her; strong enough to make her feel he would never let her go but gentle too, almost like a prayer.
When he finally let her go her voice was rough and low, "I want you… no one else."
"Why?" He asked, his face so full of confusion and yet desperate need.
"Because you keep me safe… because you always have, and I never want to feel the fear of my life without you."
He reached out and held her face in one huge hand, she could see the shine of tears in his eyes and her own throat tightened at the sight.
"I love you," He said, "I've always loved you, and if you say you want me, say it and mean it, I'll never let you go. Not for the seven, not for light or dark or whatever might come."
She smiled, true and pure and free: "I want you."
He laughed, and for the first time since she had met him the sound did not echo with anger. He held her, tight and kissed her again, his hands slipping down her body in hungry comfort as she smiled into his neck.
"I suppose you'll want to do it in front of one of your bloody trees." He chuckled into her hair as his finger's looped under the folds of her dress.
"Yes," She growled, sliding a hand down his front, "In front of one of my bloody trees."
The coals of the brazier glowed against the darkness and as Sansa slipped beneath the strength of his arms with his voice rough against her ear and the blurry sight of his smile so tight against her, she felt she could almost smell the snow.
---------
END
<- Previous Part
After Blackwater Battle Sandor and Sansa run across broken country and eventually the narrow sea.
Fandom: ASoIaF | Pairing: Sansa/Sandor | Spoilers: DwD
Rating: R (violence/sexuality)
Word Count: 37,000 total (parts 1-10)
Parts: 10 / 10
[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3] [ Part 4] [ Part 5] [ Part 6] [ Part 7] [ Part 8] [ Part 9] [ Part 10]
Never…
The snow whipped against her. She was running, she was trying as hard as she could while the tears tore down her face and the snow grew deeper and deeper against her nakedness.
The fire glowed in the darkness and she heard his screams, watched as he thrashed and cried and fell.
"NO!" She cried out, choking in the darkness.
The red eyes burned into her soul as the white-haired woman screamed.
Only you...
Sansa opened her eyes. The sun was lower in the sky, sending heavy shadows out from the rolling hills and jagged rocks. At first she couldn't believe she had fallen asleep again but when she returned to consciousness and remembered and felt the peace seep in around her she sighed and leaned back into the grass. She reached out blindly towards where he had been but he was gone. There was a cloak draped over her and she hugged it close.
Carefully she rolled herself onto her elbows and looked around. Stranger was a short distance off grazing idly by the lake just below the hillside she rested on. A short ways down the bank of the lake there lay a small garden of stony ruins, jutting out of the green grass and the blue of the water, Amongst them was Sandor's hulking figure, bending down to add some sticks to a pile she assumed must be for a fire.
Steadily she raised herself to her feet, shocked that her knees still tried to buckle under her even after her rest. But she caught herself and carefully began to step down the hill. Her woman's place still throbbed dully but it was hardly noticeable and she told herself it would be gone soon enough.
Finally she reached the bottom of the knoll and walked by the sandy lake-shore as she made her way over to the ruins Sandor was setting up camp in.
"Where did you find wood?" She asked as she reached him.
His eyes shot up when she spoke. She held the cloak closer to her shoulders and tried to smile in the face of his shock. He lowered his gaze as if he was angry, but she couldn't help but notice the hungry way his eyes sparkled when he saw her and the almost arrogant pride that seemed to swell in him.
"There's driftwood in the ruins." He said.
"Ghoyan Drohe," She corrected.
"What?" He growled.
"The ruins," She said as she seated herself down on one of the stones, "They're Ghoyan Drohe- the outskirts most likely."
"Standing stones." He returned as he kicked the sticks together into a heap.
She stared at him.
"Ghoyan Drohe is on the Little Rhoyne." He grumbled slightly and sat down.
There was a strange sense around them and she wished it would go away.
"Do you regret it yet?" He finally rasped at her.
When she look at him he had a bitter smile on his face.
"Of course not," She answered incredulously.
"Don't worry," He said as he turned his angry face towards the lake, "You will."
She felt the anger surge in her chest. It pushed her up to her feet and she turned her back on him as she walked several feet away. The tears began to swell in her chest but she spun instead and strode back towards him. He glanced up at her idly with that mocking look at his face and she hit him hard.
"Why can't you be happy?" She threw at him as he stared up into her furious eyes, "Why can't you just accept what I've given you and be happy!?"
She felt the tears burning in her eyes but Sandor reached out and swept her off the ground, holding her against him as she sat in his lap.
"I'm sorry, Little Bird." He mumbled into her neck, "I'm not good at happiness."
She pulled herself away slightly to look into his eyes, "You can try."
He ran a finger over her lip, "I can't help but try."
He laughed suddenly.
"What is it?" She asked.
"You," He chuckled, "You are so still and then light up so bright- with those blue eyes of yours, and that red hair, you're like ice and fire."
Sansa smiled as he ran his thick fingers through her hair, "Ice and fire?"
"Aye," He rumbled as he pushed the strands away to kiss the fragile white of her neck.
She giggled to herself, "I like that."
"Good," He smiled, running the burned side of his face along her throat and she shivered at the smooth strange feeling.
His hand slipped down her back and he gave her rump a solid pat, "Go on," He said, "I'll start a fire."
She turned to face him, "It isn't even dark."
"It will be soon, and it was cold last night- don't you remember?"
She shook her head earnestly as she stood and he righted himself, she couldn't help noticing how he adjusted himself through his breeches and felt the warm flames start to lick about her stomach again.
He knelt down by the fire with the flint from Stranger's saddlebags and she casually stepped out towards the water of the lake.
It was so still, so perfectly and beautifully still. The surface of the water was turning pink and golden as the sun sunk over the horizon. She knelt and ran her fingertips over the warm face of the lake sending the ripples out into infinity, making the light of the sky dance over the surface.
The cloak slipped from her shoulders and she silently slipped the torn shreds of her dress away into a small pile at her feet. The air slinked around her naked body and she held her arms out to either side and turned her face to the sky as she felt the cleansing cold.
Sansa laughed and dived long and lean out into the water. It closed over her, pure and cool, and clean, and then she shot up, throwing her hair behind her in the light and pushing the water back from her face as she stood again.
The water was still shallow where she was and the small waves of her motion lapped against her thighs idly.
"Seven hells," She heard rumble behind her.
She turned and saw him standing by the licking fire staring at her.
Her face colored ever so slightly and ever so prettily in the light of the sunset and she ran a hand down her wet hair, realizing how little she cared that he could see her pure and naked, how little it mattered, how right it felt, how real and pure and true.
"You're so bloody beautiful." He said.
She smiled in the sunlight.
"Come here," He said, his voice rough as stone and eyes hungry, "Let me look at you."
"It's cold," She complained idly.
"I couldn't give a fucking damn." He grinned.
She stuck out her lip but stepped gracefully back towards the shore.
He couldn't take his eyes off her and she felt her chest surge as she watched them travel over every inch of her naked body.
"Turn." He commanded.
She laughed as she obeyed, "You've seen me disrobed before… in the courtyard, in the stream--"
"That wasn't like this." He growled, "You're mine now, even if it is just for now."
She stepped closer and reached her hand out towards him, "It's not just for now…"
His fingers snatched hers and he pulled hard. She cried out in surprise but his firm arm caught her easily and lifted her up.
He kissed under the curve of her breast and then the side and finally her tight nipple and growled as he pressed his face into her bosom.
"You taste as good as you smell." He said and she ran a hand through his hair.
"Wait-" She said suddenly as his hands slid over her eagerly, "It's not fair, I want to see you."
He laughed for a moment as he lowered her down to the bank, "What?"
She grinned and let the pink plumpness of her lip catch in her teeth and she ran her hands over him and then slipped them under his shirt and mail to the smooth hardness of his body underneath. His face seemed shocked but the fire in his eyes was in hers as well and he nodded roughly.
He tugged the shirt over his head and she pushed against him before he could reach for the mail, feeling the coolness of the metal ringlets slip against her skin delightfully. Sandor watch her with a smirk on his face and then pulled that off as well.
Sansa stared at him, her face just level with his chest and the criss-crosses of scars buried under the dark hair. She ran her hand carefully, tentatively over him and she felt him shudder under her. He was so strong, like iron and rock under the warmth of his skin. So many scars…
She ran a finger over one of them and looked up into his eyes heavy with desire, "Where did you get this?"
"I don't know girl," He said, catching her face in his hand and running a heavy thumb over the line of her jaw, "I don't remember most."
"Most?"
He caught her meaning and rolled his forearm over to show her a clean white line that went across it, "That's from King's Landing… my first battle, and then of course…" He voice trailed as his face darkened but she ignored it. She lay her parted lips over the scar on his arm, and then the one of his chest, letting her hot tongue dart out just slightly.
His hand ran down her back and over her arse, gripping her hard as he shuddered under her lips.
She kissed another, lower, and then a small white "c" right where the muscles that lay thick over where the bones of his hips jutted out. Her hand slid up the side of his leg carefully and easily.
"Sansa," She heard him start to protest but she didn't listen and let her open mouth press against the thick weight of his cock tight against his breeches.
His hand tightened hard in her hair and she rubbed her cheek against him, addicted to his heat and firmness. She let her mouth catch around him again and found the end and pressed her lips firmly. She felt him jump under her and almost laughed in fascinated surprise.
Suddenly her caught her under the arms and lifted her cleanly up. She wrapped her legs about his waist and fell into the delicious loss of his tongue, the smell of sweat and the way his chest rumbled against her breasts when her teeth caught on his lip.
He started to carry her and then she felt the cool stone strong behind her back and shivered.
He pulled his hungry mouth from hers and pressed his thumb against her lip, "Stand." He directed and she did.
Once her feet were touching the ground he slid his hand around her side and down steadily until his palm lay felt over the cool damp of her mound. Her breathing was ragged now and her heart jumped as he stared at her mouth while he steadily pressed his thumb between her lips and she caught it warm and tight.
His fingers slipped between her legs, pressing and exploring, running carefully over the folds and layers of her as his knuckles grazed her inner thighs and his thumb went back and forth inside her mouth. His hand pressed through the top of her lower lips and she felt her knees buckle as his rough fingers grazed her clit.
He smiled and pulled his thumb from her lips to hold her face steady so she couldn't look away from him.
Her eyes burned into his but when he pressed her there again they fluttered shut and she heard herself moan as her hips jolted against him. He did it again and again, watching in awe each time she thrashed against him but all the while keeping her still enough to maintain control.
She felt herself slicken with each rub of his finger and the he stopped and she opened her eyes in surprise only to see his watching her with such intensity. She held his gaze as she felt his hand lower and then steadily and slowly press one finger into her.
She gasped and her hands scrambled to reach him but he snatched them up and held them tight over her head and she whined in frustration and kissed him harder than she meant to.
His hand pressed against her, into the wet warmth and then stopped and drove in again with two fingers as she moaned fully against his neck. He pulled back to stare at her as he drove his hand into her again and again and she stared down and watched with catching breath as his rough fingers dove wet and shining in the firelight into the copper of her hair.
She tightened and his breath caught and he pressed harder and harder and faster and faster and she threw her head back as if to scream but there was no sound just the blinding pleasure as she felt her body let go and slip around him.
Finally he slowed but his breath was still ragged as he lifted his hand from her and ran a wet finger over her lip. She let her tongue dash out to hold him in the warmth of her lips again and she tasted salt that had never seemed sweeter.
His grip loosed on her hands and slowly but strongly they locked to his belt and pulled him close, struggling the the clasps and ties. He pushed her back with a hand between her breasts to do them himself and she let one hand drift idly down the length of him as the thrumming sensation still dancing between her legs hummed over her.
As soon as his hands finished their work she slid her palms under the waist of his breeches, pushed them down, and suddenly her was there before her. She let herself collapse before him, one hand locking around the length of him while her mouth explored with starving desire. She tasted the bitter salt on his tip and wished there was more, singing inside when he thrust against her lapping tongue.
Her lips pressed down his length and she felt his firm warmth against the softness of her tongue as he groaned loudly and couldn't help pushing deeper into her.
She held him to keep from choking and pressed down as far as she could go again, slowly and deeply but then he was lifting her, her back hit the stone hard and his fingers pulled her open before he thrust deep into her warmth.
Sansa cried out but he didn't seem to notice, he drove into her again and again, hardly holding back as he had before. Her legs wrapped tight around him but his hands held her so strongly that she felt her legs loosed and widen to let him plunge even deeper. His stubble scratched her face with the first thrusts and then he pulled back and when she looked she saw with a thrill of excitement that he was watching as the length of him left her almost fully and then steadily dove again even deeper. She felt her throat moan every time and then he sped, pounding into her with such ferocity that she thought she might break but didn't even care. Her nails drove into his back and she felt her heels drive into his buttocks in time with the thrusts driving him faster and faster as if he was a horse in the yard.
He gasped and his thrust pressed into her trying to go as deep as it possible could. She tightened and when she saw how it made him shudder she did it again and then stilled as he did.
His damp forehead rested heavily on her shoulder and she leaned back into the cool of the rock. He kissed her throat openly and roughly and then put her down. She almost fell on her useless legs and he caught her and laughed.
"That good?" He rumbled as he stared at her under heavy eyes.
She nodded idly as she tried to get her footing again.
He pushed her hair out of her face, "I've never tried to pleasure a woman before." He said.
She looked up into his grey eyes, "I've never… well, I don't know what it's called."
Sandor laughed, "I bloody well know you haven't."
She felt her cheeks heat indignantly, "Was it that… unpracticed?"
He laughed at her again and caught her face in his hands and kissed her solidly.
"It was better than killing, girl." He said, "I could drown in your lips and your teats and your cunt and not notice if the whole fucking world was on fire."
She blushed but felt her heart dance all at once.
He slapped her arse firmly, "Now have your swim. I'll get the food."
She did as she was told and by the time she was walking back up the bank the smell of stew was floating in the air and her skin felt freezing against the cool of the night.
Sandor tossed his cloak at her with a smile and she wrapped it around her shoulders as she settled in beside the fire, the warm bowl of stew in her hands and it's flavor filling her mouth.
"Well," He said, "How are we going to find your dragon queen?"
"It shouldn't be difficult," Sansa said confidently, "Dragons shouldn't be hard to find."
Sandor snorted, "I've told you girl there are no dragons, they've been gone a long time now."
"But Illyrio said- the sailors--" She began urgently.
"People like tales of grand things," Sandor said, "You should know that by now. I'm sure there's something, maybe some overgrown lizards or a fire machine, but no dragons."
Sansa turned back to her stew, "They said there were no direwolves." She muttered into her bowl.
Sandor ignored her, "If we keep heading east I'm sure we'll get word and we can move from there."
Sansa nodded glumly.
"Here-" He growled at her, reaching out and snatching at her to pull her in close, "You're too pretty to brood."
He kissed her and when he let her go again she knew she couldn't help smiling.
"That thing…" She began, "That I did before…"
Sandor grinned lewdly, "Aye?"
She returned her gaze with her own smile, "Could I maybe try again?"
When Sansa woke he was still asleep beside her. The sky was bright and blue once again and getting lighter. Sandor's breathing was steady against her cheek and the embers of the fire were all but burned out. Very carefully she pulled herself free from his arms and stood amongst the rocks of the ruins.
She stretched and pulled her hair behind her head as she slipped into one of the thin simple dresses she had brought with her. Once she was tidy she let her feet carry her down towards the lake-side.
Everything was so still, there wasn't even a bird in their air or the sound of wind. She looked around for Stranger but did not see him.
Carefully she knelt down beside the water, so still is was almost a mirror. He loins ached dully under her but it was good feeling and she relished in the memories that had placed it there. She looked down into the crystal surface of the water.
No longer a maiden. I don't seem to look so very different.
Something stirred in the stillness.
She turned her head slowly and suddenly froze. The ruins were moving.
Along the edge of the bank a massive black shape stretched it's neck into the sky. Huge wings unfurled casually as a blast of heat shot from the great mouth to surround the dead animal clutched in it's talons. Sansa felt sickness rise inside her as it lowered it's head to rip one of Stranger's legs free and swallow it whole.
The monster turned idly and then it's burning red eyes locked onto her and Sansa Stark screamed.
---------
She covered her mouth as soon as the scream left but she knew it was too late. The dragon lifted it's head into the air and let out it's own massive roar and she felt the ruins around her shake.
It started to move, unwind like a building collapsing with intentional grace. The thick black scales shining in the sunlight and all the while those burning eyes staring straight through her.
The eyes from my dreams…
She couldn't seem to move, she could hardly breath all she could see were those burning pools of red slinking closer and closer as the stony body blocked out that sky.
A strong hand hit her shoulder and shoved her behind his back and reality crashed down around her.
He was there: staring up in dumb shock at the thing before them. She realized in horror that he hadn't even had time to don a shirt or mail but instead stood there, chest bare as he had slept holding the broadsword as well as he could between her and the face of fire.
Sansa watched his gaze snap to the pile of charred meat by the bank and heard him groan with heartbreaking depth.
The dragon stepped closer, the water of the lake hissing and flying into steam around it's clutching claws. Her hand latched to his arm, grabbing it as hard as she could.
He stepped back heavily as it moved towards them and then suddenly the scaled head lashed out like a striking snake. Sansa screamed as Sandor pushed her and roared as he swung the blade around, catching the side of the monster's snout with the sound of steel meeting stone.
The beast swung on him again, it's eyes blazing with no more than a thin scratch on it's scales where Sandor's mighty blow had struck it.
He hit it again, slicing across the obsidian forehead so hard sparks flew into the air and the thing cried out, rolling back onto it's hind legs and lashing it's mighty wings in the air.
Sansa felt her breath catch in her throat as her eyes widened to fit all of it's form filling the sky.
"Run!" She heard him roar at her.
And then it was back on all fours and lashing at Sandor with a jagged claw.
He fell as he dodged it's path but not fast enough. Sansa felt her heart leap into her throat as she saw the rocky sharp catch against his shoulder and rip open the flesh in a clean red slice.
Sandor hardly seemed to notice. He rolled to one side and when the monster's hand dug into the earth he turned and with a massive cry drove the sword straight through where the scales of it's arm broke to meet those of it's hand.
She watched in horrified awe as he drove it deeper and deeper while the monster screamed and lashed, pulling free just in time to dive beneath the other hand swinging towards him in raw anger.
He ran as he landed and the fire exploded just behind him. The grass crackled and burst into blackness as the lake steamed into mist all around them and Sandor pounded across the grass.
Sansa watched as the beast writhed and squirmed, roaring in rage into the blue sky and then she felt his steely hand grab her arm.
He practically threw her to her feet and the monster's neck snapped towards them. She hardly felt the earth under her feet as they rushed towards the ruins. The jagged intake of air into a stony throat echoed behind her and Sandor hurled them behind the first stone.
The fire exploded behind them- licking around the corners of the stone, heating the ancient rock behind their backs. His hand was hard on hers, holding it tight and when she looked into his face she saw the his terror. And then as soon as the flames stopped he was gone, hurling himself around the ruin to slam the blade across the monster's face.
Sansa heard the slice, and Sandor's heavy grunt of effort and her feet moved before she could think, bringing her around the ruins so see him: bleeding heavily from his shoulder, chest heaving, face a mask of pure rage as he lifted the sword again.
He swung and the dragon shied away from the blow, snapping out at him with a cry.
There was something else- another sound somewhere in her ears, a rumbling almost like hoof-beats. She couldn't think. She could hardly see, her eyes were filling with tears and she didn't know why.
Sandor's blade caught it across it's open mouth but it's tail swung around and stuck his legs out from under him.
Far off, she heard herself scream.
Sandor struggled to his feet but the beast lashed out again with all of it's strength and his body flew, crashing into the stones with a sickening crack.
The tears ripped down her face now and her feet her running, running as fast as she could but it wasn't fast enough.
He tried to stand, he tried to reach his sword but the claws found him first, smashing him back into the stone and pressing tight, pinning him to the ruin as he coughed hard and red flew from his lips, the lips that had kissed her, the lips that had promised her.
"STOP!" She cried as her feet caught under her. She crashed into the dirt and her skin split but it didn't matter.
The beast pressed it's scaled face close to his, staring in empty fascination as his body twitched under the tightening claws. Sandor raised his face to meet that fiery gaze and gritted his teeth. His hand shot free and he slammed a rock as hard as he could into the dragon's eye.
The screamed exploded as it fell back scratching at it's face in confusion and pain as Sandor's body crumbled into pile at the foot of the ruin.
Sansa flew into him, her hands scrambling over his body, searching, desperate. His breathing was choked and wretched and each intake of air shot through her like steel. As his eyes shot back and forth emptily he didn't even seem to see.
"No, no, no", her voice muttered dumbly and she reached up and held his face, "Sandor!"
And then his eyes focused, his throat caught and she felt his hand tighten against her wrist.
She gasped out a tortured smile, "It's gone- it's gone, you did it, it's fine now."
"No," His voice rumbled, torn and tattered, "Go, go now."
His stare shot desperately to her face and she felt him try to push her aside with shocking strength.
"You're hurt, you're hurt I can't--"
"Sansa,"
"No!"
"Sansa!" He cried as he stared over her shoulder.
She heard the sound.
She spun and all she saw was the gaping jaws of the beast as the air rushed in and she saw the flames begin to glow deep in the endless throat, deep and dark and so very hot that for an instant it almost felt cold and then all she could see was snow.
Never…
She felt herself slip- it was cold and strange and then so very hot, there was a searing pain against her eye and rage and huger and then she saw a girl with red hair and blue eyes, hands tight around the limp form of the prey. Panic surged through a mind, ripping and tearing and trying to break free but one command seared through the rest like a blinding light:
"No!"
Sansa fell.
The dragon roared as it fled to the sky and another scream, a woman's, sounded in the distant.
She felt her body drop against his, warm and slick and solid. Her vision was fading as the steam from the lake swam all around, and somewhere in that fog, where three riders- a man made of rainbow, a tall knight who seemed somehow familiar, and the woman with the white hair.
A laugh almost escaped her- dreaming, only dreaming.
As she slipped into unconsciousness the monster sailed through the blue of the sky. As small as a bird.
------------
Sansa's feet were still shaky when she made her way into the thick white of the tent. Outside the sounds of horses and camp echoed through the hills and across the lake. Every once in a while the shadows of dragon wings would darken the sky.
Each time one of their distant roars sounded she felt her body wince but she had to be brave.
"It's alright, Lady Stark," A kind voice sounded beside her, "The Queen is waiting."
She turned into the gentle face of Ser Barristan Selmy.
"Ser Barristan?" She gasped.
"You recognize me?" He asked, "I didn't think you would remember and old man."
In her mind's eyes she saw his face fill with rage as he threw his sword at Joffrey's feet before the King draped it around Sandor's shoulders.
I wonder if he hates him…
She realized for the first time that cloak she had clung to was truly his.
"Of course I remember you, Ser." She tried to smile.
She was still so tired, her heart was exhausted and all she wanted to do was collapse in her own tent, besides the heavy weight of Sandor's body. But she had to be there, she had to be strong.
"If you would be so kind..." She said.
He nodded his head courteously and led her through the tent to the antechamber.
Sansa ducked beneath the lifted canvas to see the Queen waiting for her. She was beautiful, and her eyes seemed calm but there was something dark there as well.
She rose to meet her and Sansa felt her knees duck into a bow subconsciously, "Your Grace."
Dany's hand lifted her chin gently and she regarded her.
"Are you sure it's her?" She asked Ser Barristan.
"Yes," The knight said, "It has been sometime but I'm sure it's her."
"Sansa Stark…" Dany said.
"Your Grace," Sansa bowed once more.
"Ned Stark's daughter."
"My father is dead, Your Grace." Sansa answered, keeping her blue stare strong as she could.
Dany gazed at her carefully, "As is mine."
They stood quietly and the echoes of the camp outside seeped around them.
"Ser Barristan," Dany said, turning towards the knight with a friendly countenance, "You may leave us."
The old man nodded, and gave Sansa a forced smile as he pushed his way into the main canopy of the tent.
"Please," Dany gestured, "Be seated."
Carefully Sansa lowered herself down onto the pillowed floor as Dany sat opposite her.
She said nothing, just watched her, running her eyes over her face with care.
"I owe you a great debt," Sansa said finally, "For taking us in as you have."
Dany turned her eyes, "You were injured and, well, I should not have allowed it to happen,"
She hesitated and then looked at Sansa again "But it was more than that. My priest… He said he's seen him in the fires, that he has an important part yet to play."
Foggy memories danced through Sansa's mind, her body being laid down inside a tent, her eyes searching for Sandor and seeing a man as black and ominous as a shadow looming beside them, blazing with red and light.
Dany's eyes shone in the shadows of the tent; "Ser Barristan tells me this Sandor Clegane is a rough-hearted man…"
Sansa said nothing.
"He hurt Drogon," She continued, but her voice was sharp, "He will recover… I suppose he does not need both of his eyes."
"He killed his horse." Sansa heard herself say.
Dany's eyes flamed but she said nothing.
"He was protecting me." Sansa finished quietly.
"You protected him." Dany said suddenly, "What did you do?"
Sansa stammered, "I- I don't know what--"
"You do. AndI felt it." Dany said, her voice was low and for the first time Sansa thought she sense fear in her.
"I felt you," She continued, "I heard you command him and I felt his mind scream in fear."
Sansa rolled her hands together awkwardly, "I know, but… I'm sorry, I don't know what happened."
"Shall I tell you what I think happened?" Dany said.
Sansa didn't know what to say.
"I've heard tales of the North…" Dany continued, "Of Wildings who can sit inside the minds of animals and make them their slaves."
"No-" Sansa started, "No, I can't, it's not like that--"
"It is… it was. I felt it. I saw it. You stopped him…" Suddenly her voice saddened, "I should have been there. I should have stopped him."
Sansa stared into the silk of the pillows under her. I did stop it… I saw myself, I saw with his eyes.
"I could't believe," Dany said, "When I saw him land those blows… no one has ever been able to face them like that."
Sansa didn't want to think about it.
"You're lucky to have such a brave knight."
"He's not a knight." Sansa answered sharper than she meant to.
"But he is yours." Dany replied.
Sansa felt her stare and met it, "Yes, he's mine."
"How old are you, Sansa?" She asked.
"Thirteen, Your Grace."
Dany smiled ever so slightly but Sansa thought she saw sadness in her face, "I was thirteen when I fell in love."
Sansa felt her heart start to beat in her chest.
"Unfortunately my love was too far gone for saving…" Her voice trailed off and Sansa was suddenly struck by the strength of her, how she seemed so sad one minute and pushed it all away the next to look at her once more: full and direct.
"You do love him, don't you?" Dany said.
The answer came without thought.
"Yes," Sansa breathed.
There was silence and then Dany spoke once more.
"Why?"
Sansa felt the tears start to swell in her eyes, "Because," She almost gasped, "Because he's strong without trying to be, because he's brave in the face of hope he doesn't feel is there… because he's seen so much darkness, so much evil, and still I can tell that he believes in the light."
The sun was lowering in the sky and the light inside the tent was thickening to golden.
"Because he made me a promise, and I know he'll keep it." She almost whispered.
Dany sat, still, her eyes never leaving Sansa's face.
"He has seen you in the fires as well," Dany said gently, "My priest,"
Sansa couldn't seem to speak.
Dany nodded, "The girl with eyes of ice and hair of flame… 'Winter's Lost Child' he calls you: The Queen of the North…"
Sansa felt her stomach jump inside her.
"Is that why you sought me out?" Dany asked carefully, "Is that what you want? To be the Queen of the North?"
Sansa could almost feel the cool of the wind on her skin, smell the heavy wet of snow and the warm stones of Winterfell's walls.
"I want to go home." She said, "That's all I want: home."
Dany smiled, "As do I."
----
It was dark when Sansa slipped past the silken folds of her tent. The sides were shifting gently in the breeze and the thick smell of the coals in the glowing brazier seeped around her.
She eased off her shoes as she stepped calmly over the softness of the spread carpets to the cot where his breathing echoed deep and constant. His chest was bandaged tightly along with his shoulder but the priest had proven a powerful healer and he had assured her all would be well.
Sansa let herself sink down onto the silken pillows and furs and ran a hand gently over the side of his face.
He growled huskily and without opening his eyes reached out and locked his arms around her.
She squealed slightly as he rolled and carried her with him.
His face snuck into her neck as his hands slunk around her waist.
She rolled as best as she could and pushed the dark strands of his hair aside, "How are you?"
"As I was before you left." He muttered.
The grief was still in his face and she hated it but knew that there was nothing to be done.
"You saw her?" He asked.
Sansa nodded.
The anger was still seething in him. She knew it was hard for him, to sit there under their protection, in their alliance after what that thing had done. But he knew they had saved them as well- hurt him and healed him, in the end it almost amounted to nothing.
"What did she say?" He asked roughly.
Sansa felt her lips smile, "She said she'd take me home."
Sandor's skepticism blazed in his stare, "To her brother? To marry and give them your North?"
"No," Sansa said, "She says she'll make me a Queen, a Queen she can trust, a Queen that the banners will rally behind."
"Why?" He asked roughly, "Why would she do that?"
"She knows that if she gives me this, I will always be loyal to her, always trust her, always stand by her no matter what darkness comes. And she is right."
Sansa pushed her hand between them and felt his heart beating solidly under the warmth of his chest.
"But she can do more than that." She whispered.
"What more?" Sandor almost laughed bitterly, "What could you want besides your name and your castle? How else could she buy your bloody loyalty?"
Sansa gazed into the grey of his eyes, the storm of his anger and bitterness but beneath it all that glowing warmth that he tried to hide but could never slip from her sight now.
"She wants me to marry whomever I choose. She says she's seen 'requirement' and felt 'duty' and it's nothing to love… she wants to give me that, maybe because she knows she can't have it. And I want it."
Sandor stared into her eyes. He didn't seem to be able to speak.
So she did; "You know what's strange?"
His voice was rough when he answered her, "What?"
"The first time we met--"
"At Winterfell, in the courtyard,"
"No," She insisted, "Not then… the first time we spoke. When I was afraid of Ilyn Payne and you were there, as if by fate."
Sandor laughed slightly, "It wasn't bloody fate, girl." He pushed a hand through her hair as he stared into her eyes, "I'd been following you… I couldn't stop looking at you, not since the first time I laid eyes on you. There was something about you… there is something about you."
She slipped her hand around his own, "I know… I think I knew even then, even if I was too blind to see it. I felt it. When I stepped back, so afraid, and I felt your hand on my shoulder, I thought it was my father… even then, even before I knew you, you made me feel so safe."
Sandor kissed her; strong enough to make her feel he would never let her go but gentle too, almost like a prayer.
When he finally let her go her voice was rough and low, "I want you… no one else."
"Why?" He asked, his face so full of confusion and yet desperate need.
"Because you keep me safe… because you always have, and I never want to feel the fear of my life without you."
He reached out and held her face in one huge hand, she could see the shine of tears in his eyes and her own throat tightened at the sight.
"I love you," He said, "I've always loved you, and if you say you want me, say it and mean it, I'll never let you go. Not for the seven, not for light or dark or whatever might come."
She smiled, true and pure and free: "I want you."
He laughed, and for the first time since she had met him the sound did not echo with anger. He held her, tight and kissed her again, his hands slipping down her body in hungry comfort as she smiled into his neck.
"I suppose you'll want to do it in front of one of your bloody trees." He chuckled into her hair as his finger's looped under the folds of her dress.
"Yes," She growled, sliding a hand down his front, "In front of one of my bloody trees."
The coals of the brazier glowed against the darkness and as Sansa slipped beneath the strength of his arms with his voice rough against her ear and the blurry sight of his smile so tight against her, she felt she could almost smell the snow.
---------
END
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