Chapter Text
He had been here before. It was a lifetime ago, but he still remembered the day vividly in his memories.
King Robert had dragged the whole court North to visit his old friend Ned Stark. It had been the first time for Sandor to travel north of the Riverlands, but it had also been the first time he had met her.
It felt like an eternity that he had seen her the last time, Sandor thought.
Her fiery hair had been shining in the green light of the flames. Her eyes had been holding uncertainty and fear as he had offered her to take her with him.
It had been so long ago, but he still couldn’t forget her.
And now she was gone. First married of to the bloody Imp and now disappeared forever.
The mere thought of the hands of this disgusting little creature on the little bird, made the rage rise inside him. She had deserved happiness and the lions had put her through all the seven hells, within her short life already.
Sandor had thought death would probably be a gift for Sansa. At least this way she would be reunited with her family.
Sandor only knew too well how it was to think death a mercy. He had begged for death when he had lied in bed for months, after Gregor had pressed him into the flames. And he had also begged for death when he had lost against Brienne of bloody Tarth.
This little wolfbitch should have just killed me, he thought, riding next to Beric. At least this way I wouldn’t have to freeze my ass off in this bloody cold.
After Septon Ray’s death, his path had crossed the one of the Brotherhood without Banners again, hunting after the murderers of his friend.
He had gotten his revenge and Beric had convinced him, that his future lied in the North.
Sandor didn’t directly believe Beric’s and Thoros’s tales about the dead and White Walkers, but he had nothing to lose anymore. The Lannisters still wanted his head in the South and he didn’t have the neccessary coin to leave Westeros forever.
If Beric’s and Thoros’s stories were true they would be dead at the end of this winter anyway. Just like the farmer and his daughter Sandor had crossed path when he still had the little birds sister with him.
He and the Brotherhood had crossed the farm and Sandor had been right. They had found the farmer and his daughter dead in their cottage.
Sandor had muttered that he had been right, as he had dug them two graves much to the surprise of the Brotherhood.
“You think we will be welcome here?” Thoros asked Beric as they approached the former Stark castle.
“The men who wanted to take the Black have always been welcome here before,” Beric told him.
“Many things have changed,” Sandor muttered under his breath pulling the yellow cloak of Lem around him.
As soon as they had entered the North they had seen flayed people now and then. The new ruler of the North showed who was in charge now.
Sandor had a strange feeling when they entered the castle.
Before they entered the main courtyard, they had to ride under a cross with the body of a flayed elderly woman nailed to it. It seems that she wasn’t dead for long, since the blood hadn’t yet frozen on her bare flesh.
The door of the keep opened and a man who obviously must be Lord Bolton came strolled out.
“Who are you?” he asked in a low voice, barely hearable over the cold northern wind.
“We ride North to the Wall to take the Black and fight to defend Westeros from the long night and what comes with it. Every man who wanted to join the Nightswatch was welcomed in Winterfell in the past,” Beric said.
Lord Bolton eyes him with his cold eyes. Sandor knew that Lord Bolton was a dangerous man.
“Of course, you are allowed to stay here. As Warden of the North I grand the hospitality of this castle for as long as you wish, but I would advise you to leave soon. Winter is coming and we don’t need useless eaters,” he said and Beric thanked him.
Sandor looked around and noticed the number of soldiers on the wall and in the courtyard.
They are preparing for war not for winter, Sandor thought.
“You are allowed to stay in the guest barrack, but don’t try anything stupid,” Lord Bolton said walked back inside.
***
The barracks were simple, but Sandor had stayed here before.
“We shouldn’t stay too long,” Sandor said.
“Aye, I don’t think we are too welcomed here,” one of the man agreed with him.
“Yes, but we have to wait out the current storms,” Beric said. “As soon as they ended we will continue to travel.”
“Better sooner than later,” Sandor said.
“Afraid Clegane”? Thoros asked.
“I just prefer to keep my skin, rather than having it peeled of me,” Sandor rasped back.
The red priest only chuckled.
Sandor left the barracks and went to the stables to take care of Stranger. When they had traveled north, they had found him in a village they had passed by.
Sandor had thought that his old companion had been lost to him, after his fight in the Vale, but he had returned.
He was still as unruly as before and so he stood alone in a box in the stables.
Stranger obviously enjoyed the brush down and the fresh hay, when some Bolton soldiers came in to take care of their horses.
They were obviously in a good mood. One of them stopped and eyed Stranger impressed.
“That is a giant beast of a horse you have there,” he said.
“Aye. Better don’t come close. He likes to bite off fingers of hands he doesn’t know and like.”
“I´ll keep my distance,” the soldier said.
“What did that old woman do that got flayed?” Sandor asked casually.
“The old serving wench?” the soldier asked. “She tried to help the new Lady Bolton escape the castle and Lord Ramsay wasn’t happy about it.”
Sandor frowned.
“The new Lady Bolton?” he asked.
“Aye, Lord Ramsay married her two weeks ago,” another soldier said with a smirk. “She doesn’t seem to like it too much, you can hear her crying all day long and screaming in the nights.”
“Some even say that Lord Ramsay brought his pet with him for the wedding night,” another said.
“His pet?” Sandor asked.
“Aye, the Greyjoy turncloak. Lord Ramsay made him his new pet.”
The men laughed and Sandor didn’t bother to ask further questions. Sandor finished brushing down his stallion and returned to the barracks where he and the other men of the brotherhood ate their dinner.
***
Sandor hadn’t found much sleep that night. He had believed the soldiers had exaggerate yesterday, but the screams of the new Lady Bolton had echoed through the whole castle and its grounds for the biggest part of the night.
The screams had stopped in the early morning hours and had been replaced with the sound of a weeping woman.
Sandor hated the sound. It reminded him so much of the little bird’s weeping in Kings Landing after her father had been murdered.
He even thought that the sound was familiar.
Can’t be, Sandor thought rubbing his face. Sansa is gone.
He never could forget the eyes of the little bird, the day when he had been standing next to the Iron Throne when Joffrey had ordered Trant to beat her.
He still remembered that day with shame, remembered that he hadn’t done more for her.
Sandor looked around in the barrack and saw everyone else still asleep.
“Fuck it,” Sandor cursed and got up. He went out into the courtyard where soldiers were already busy preparing horses.
“Hurry up, Lord Ramsay wants everything ready,” one soldier yelled and the men did as commanded.
Sandor saw a smaller man leave the keep. He had a cruel smirk that reminded him on a more sadistic version of Joffrey.
“Let's give Stannis a nice surprise,” he said, after mounting his horse.
After that e left the castle with about twenty men following him.
Twenty men, Sandor thought amused. He must really have confidence in them.
The thought of to one of the best military minds in Westeros being stopped by only twenty men seemed ridiculous to Sandor.
Sandor’s eye found what seemed to be a man with dirty rags as clothes. When he narrowed his eyes, he was shocked to see that he saw the heir to the Iron Islands.
A broken man. Nothing reminded Sandor on the arrogant young man he remembered from his visit with King Robert.
He carried a tablet back into the keep and Sandor had no idea why he decided to go after him. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something else.
Nobody spared him a second glance while he followed the former heir to through the corridors of the keep. Sandor had learned a long time ago how to move between people without being seen.
He stopped at the corner of the next corridor, when he saw Theon unlock the door to a chamber and disappeared inside.
It didn’t take long until he came back outside. He forgot the keys in the lock after locking it again, when some soldiers came around the corner and shooed him away.
Sandor waited a few moments until he couldn’t hear anyone in the distance anymore, then he slowly approached the chamber and unlocked the door. He hesitated for a short moment contemplating if he really wanted to find out what awaited him behind the door.
Sandor slowly opened the door and entered the room. He was greeted by the stench of blood and sweat.
The window shutters were close and nearly no light entered the room.
It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the light. He let his eyes travel through the room and stopped when his eyes found the frame of a young woman on the bed, shivering and curled up.
A candle on the nightstand illuminated her frame revealing her bruise covered arms and the dirty nightgown she was wearing.
Sandors heart started to race when the candle revealed hair auburn like flames. Just like the hair he couldn’t stop thinking about.
´Little bird´ were the only words that escaped his mouth.