Chapter Text
“Sandor, please!” Sansa begged. She was looking Sandor who had seated himself by the window, the fire from the hearth cast a soft orange glow that danced across his skin emphasizing his sculpted muscles and highlighting every scare from the fine white slashes on his arms and torso to the angry burns on the left side of his face. He was still naked but showed no signs of their earlier passion, agitation was written plainly on his face. She was sitting on the large comfortable bed which still bore the evidence of their love making.
“No.” Sandor stated flatly staring out the window into the court yard of Winterfell, which by this time of night was sure to be dimly lit by the soft glow of touches.
“Why must you be this way?” She said exasperated, as she reached for Sandor’s tunic which lay discarded, hanging limply halfway off the bed. Sansa stood, slipping it over her head as she made her way toward him, “They will be here any day now.”
“Aye.” Sandor still refused to look at her. “But the answer is still no.”
“Why?!” Sansa exclaimed raising her voice and stamping her foot in a way that she was unaccustomed. At this Sandor flinched but still gave no inclination to his thoughts. “I will be free in less than a weeks’ time, but I will also be trapped again. Is that what you want? To see me passed from the hands of the Lannisters’ to those of the Targaryens’?”
“That’s not…” Sandor began shaking his head.
“What then? What do you mean when you say you will not marry me? Tell me!” Sansa had suffered at the hands of people that would use her for many years, she would not be used again. When the Dragon Queen had come north Sansa had bent the knee and sworn all fealty and loyalty of House Stark to her. Daenerys Targaryen had seen an ally in Sansa and had proclaimed her Lady Paramount and Warden of the North. “They have given me till the entire party arrives to select a new husband. You know as well as I, that should I have no one by the time my annulment to Tyrion Lannister is complete the queen will suggest her nephew.” It had been the expressed wish of both Sansa and Tyrion, who had somehow risen to the position of Hand of the Queen, that their marriage be annulled but that did not mean that she was entirely free to do as she pleased. Though the queen just been generous with the titles it quickly became apparent that her generosity did not come without a price. “I can’t afford to offend the Queen or Aegon Targaryen by refusing his hand should he propose.”
“Good then you will get what you’ve always wanted!” He shouted standing abruptly from his seat and finally turning toward her.
“What is that supposed to mean?” She said aghast.
“To be queen!” He snarled.
“I would not be the queen, I would…”
“Still you would be a bloody princess and your children would succeed to the throne and be kings and queens.” He was angry now. “That’s all you’ve ever fucking wanted, since you were a girl and had your head filled with songs.” His eyes were narrow and the burnt edge of his mouth twitching and the veins on his neck bulged. “Well go on then, here comes your fucking chance again, take it and leave me be!”
Sansa mouth hung open from the sheer shock of his words “How can you even think that? Do you honestly believe I could even want that anymore, after everything I have been through? After everything we have been through?” Sansa watched him warily, he appeared as a wild animal backed into a corner, but she was a wolf and she had been angered as well. “Do you honestly believe a crown is worth more to me then what you and I share?” She fumed.
Sandor shoulders relaxed slightly but his stance still held tension. “What I believe is irrelevant you will still leave.”
“No I won’t! Not if you marry me.” Sansa felt tired, she just didn’t understand why he didn’t see.
“So that’s the way of it, am I to be your scapegoat?” He snarled at her. “Throw your old dog a bone only when you need something!”
“What are you talking about?” She was so confused and it was written all over her face Sansa was sure. “You know how I feel about you.” Sansa voice softened as she spoke.
“Aye, you let me have your cunt, but what will that matter once the prince has arrived,” he growled at her condescendingly. “Might be, you will open your legs for him, too!” Sansa slapped him then, hard. His head turned from the force of her hand but he turned back and held her gaze.
“How dare you!” Sansa yelled, furious now. “I let you into my bed because I love you, and I dared to think that after everything we have been through together that you just might feel something for me.” Sandor’s eyes widened at her bold declaration but still her gaze never wavered. “Tell me, was I wrong to believe as much.”
“Sansa…” He began. Sandor took a deep breath, shutting his eyes before moving forward within an arm’s reach. “Little bird, this was never meant to be, you and I. Look at you, you’re more beautiful than the day I first laid eyes on you and you grow lovelier still. You are the lady of Winterfell and Warden of the North besides, a wretch like me was never meant to be with a goddess like you.” Sandor’s eyes had softened and his shoulders slumped, it looked as though all of the fight had gone out of him. “You are the Maiden made flesh and I am not fit to wipe the shit from your boots.”
“Sandor.” she said rushing to him wrapping her arms tightly around him, a gesture which he did not return, instead letting his arms hang limp at his side. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to bare your children and give you a true family. I want to stay here in Winterfell with you by my side, I never wish to be parted from you or to belong to anyone else but you.” Tears had begun to trickle down her face as she said the words. Truly she wanted nothing more than to simply be with him and she did not understand why he could not see that.
Suddenly Sandor reached up and grabbed her roughly by her shoulders and jerked her back, forcing her to let go. Sansa stared up at him startled. “No little bird you don’t,” he stated firmly. “You’re just afraid to abandon home, and I’m just the closest thing you have to comfort. You don’t want me forever, you want me to warm your bed and tell you that nothing will change. But I’ll not be the one to stand in your way, and I’ll not take you to wife just because you are afraid and want a way out.” Sansa was shaking and her tears were coming faster by the time Sandor finished speaking, whether it was from hurt, or anger, or some combination of the two, Sansa did not know but what she did know was that she could no longer stand to look at him.
Sansa ripped herself out of his grasp, turning her back on him as she made her way back to the bed. Sansa sat down on the edge still facing away from him, her had was clapped over her mouth and her eyes were shut tightly as she tried to will herself to stop crying. She heard Sandor sigh heavily behind her.
“Sansa…”
“S-stop.” Sansa stuttering slightly trough her tears. “Please just g-go.”
“Little bird, I…” He began again.
“I said leave!” Sansa practically shouted. “You have s-said all that is nece-s-sary, now please le-leave.” She hiccuped throw the words. There was a long pause before she heard him moving about, her sobbing continued throw she tried to stop.
“I need my tunic so I can leave.” He said in a flat tone. Sansa tore it off swinging her arm around and hurling it behind her and it hit the bed with a loud flop. She waited till she heard the door that lead to her solar click shut before she laid down and pulled the covers over her naked body. Sansa felt exposed and weak, the full weight of his rejection her hitting. She did not sleep much that night, just when she thought her was finally calm a new round of sobs would rack her body, leaving her to her thoughts and the inescapable feeling of dread that hung all around her.