Chapter Text
Sansa stood on the balcony of the courtroom as Joffrey made his ruling. “Mother says I can’t marry a traitor's Daughter.” Raucous applause filled the room and several faces turned toward her. “The Tyrells ..” She didn’t hear anything after that. Fear and joy clashed within her. She was free of the tyrant of a fiance, but now her station was uncertain. What would happen to her? Would they marry her off? Kill her?
Her position of safety was gone in a flash. Margaery Tyrell stealing it away. But Sansa could not bring herself to be angry with the woman, she was just doing what she knew would secure her family. She glanced down at the girl who had sent her a pleading look, then to the queen who had given her a smug one. She knew Cersei had hated her for the simple fact that she was her father's daughter. For the fact that she was a Stark. She wished in that moment she could be with Arya, while she and her sister shared no interests or hobby she would dearly love to be with her family. She would have hugged and kissed her and maybe even picked up a dirty stick to play swords with her.
She stepped away from the railing and kept her head down to hide her smile, it was all she could do not to run for joy. It would be easier to escape to her family now. Once she reached her room she bolted it. Then danced, letting out a little whoop of joy not caring if a passing maid or guard was walking by. She danced in a little circle, throwing her arms up in the air. She kicked off her shoes off and jumped on her bed. Her Septa would have chastised her but she didn't care. She was free of that monster and his cruelty. She wouldn't have to bear his children or have is wormy lips pressed on her anymore. The coverlet pooled around her ankles every time she jumped She could not suppress the giggle that erupted from her. She decided that she would need to get to her brother, the king in the North. She jumped down thinking it would be best to pack a bag now and escape in a few days. Everyone would attribute it to the king breaking his betrothal. Her poor heartbroken. She would use that to her advantage.
She didn't have to cower anymore. Sansa decided as she threw plain clothes in a bag and some jewelry. She would sell it for more money along the way home. With her bag packed and safely stowed in a hiding place she lay on her bed and fell asleep with a smile on her face. She would finally let her be the wolf her father always wanted her to be. The wolf that Joffrey had killed years ago.
A WEEK LATER
Sansa sat still in her dressing chair as her maid fussed about her hair Sansa fussed with a rough piece of white linen. Small splotches of blood-stained it, her blood. She had no friends in Kings Landing except two. Today was the day she intended to leave, much to her annoyance the King had not left her alone. He had not abandoned her to play with his new Bride. She and Margaery had become fast friends the day after Joffrey's betrothal to her. Margaery was a sweet girl, full of life and vivacious. Sansa knew the King would not dare to break her the way he had tried to do so with herself. She had played the pitiful girl to ease the abuse and make herself look as less of a threat as possible. Sansa decided she would always be friends with the future queen. “Jenna,” The wide-eyed girl snapped her eyes to meet Sansa’s in the mirror. “M’Lady?”
“Style it in the Northern way.”
“But my Lady, it is so hot?”
“Winter is coming.” She smiled knowing her house words would send the maid straight to her master. She didn't know who her maid belonged to. She didn't care. Direwolves ate Stags. “And I want the silver silk gown.” She said. She would make her last day her as a wolf, not a lion.
****
When Sansa walked into court the King fell silent, his eyes boring into her. “Lady Sansa.” he beckoned her with his hand his smile faltering only a little. She strode toward him, her head held high. When she reached him she gave a pretty curtsy. Joffrey sneered and her display, “I wanted to make sure you are feeling fine today.” She raised a red eyebrow, “Considering last week’s … news.”
“I am very happy that your grace has found your hearts path, even if it does not end with me. One of us deserves some happiness in life.” the words come gracefully from her mouth, she was surprised as was the queen. “Lady Margaery and I have become fast friends.” She gestured toward the beautiful brunette standing next to her betrothed.
“Pretty words.” The Blonde Queen said. “Easy to say in front of court.”
The King continued ignoring his mother’s attempt at a barb, leaning back on to his unearned throne. “Ser Meryn. “ The King’s favorite lackey, “How do you bring your bitches to heel?” He had understood her veiled insult.
“Breed them.” Ser Meryn answered with a sneer. “The bigger the sire the less she’ll fight.” Joffrey smiled, a sure sign he was up to something that Sansa would have to disentangle.
Sansa glared at Ser Meryn who had beat her countless times, “I didn’t realize the kingsguard had so much knowledge and time dedicated to breeding bitches.” She said calmly. “Please tell me.” Snickers sounded behind her, knowing Ser Meryn’s inability to keep to his vow of celibacy.
Ser Meryn made to step forward toward her, but another man put his hand out stopping the man. He didn’t say anything but he did not need to for Sansa to know who he was. The Hound glared at Ser Meryn daring him to come any closer to her without the King's command. The Hound had always done everything he could to protect her. Even stopping her from killing the King once. She had always wondered why he stuck up for her.
“She’s right,” Joffrey said suddenly taking everyone in the room surprise, an evil grin played about his mouth and Sansa wondered what the brat was thinking about. “Dog, your Grandfather was house Lannisters, Kennel Master. What would you do?’
“Kill it or breed it out.” He said simply, not wanting to give fuel to the Kings fire but not willing to lie.
“Hmm…” Joffrey tapped his fingers on the arm of the iron throne. “I can’t kill you, that would upset my mother and my bride had another suggestion.”
“I am thrilled to hear it, your grace.” She gave him her biggest false smile, Joffrey squirmed under it. Let him be uncomfortable, she thought. “I would be honored that you give me so much attention.” She ignored the titters behind her and stood with her back strait. Joffrey frowned not knowing what to do with this new Sansa, she was shiny and not at all the creature he had beaten into submission.
“I have decided on your future husband, one befitting your station.” Sansa looked around for someone of noble rank and of equal housing status. There was no one except the Lannisters that could give her his cloak, she would have to give him hers.
“Is he here your grace? I do not see anyone who could give me a cloak. Other than yourself of course.” She demurred.
“Oh, you needn’t look far Sansa.” He stood up and walked down to the final step on the dais. “Dog.” The Hound turned and looked at his small charge. He waved his hand toward Sansa.
“Your Grace?” His deep voice rumbled.
“Oh go on stand next to her, it will look very awkward if you don’t.” The King made a shooing motion with his hands.
Cersei leaned forward on her chair, “Your Grace if you could…” She clearly did not know what her son had in mind for Sansa’s betrothed.
“Go on Dog,” The Hound stepped down and went to stand by Sansa’s side.
“To be her guard while her husband arrives?” The Queen asked.
Joffrey let out a sob of laughter and the rest of the court ensued. He walked to the side of the room where the Grand Maester was shuffling toward the young King. “No, my Dog is not to guard her.”
“Your Grace…” The Queen continued fear now lacing the words she clutched the arms of her simple iron wrought chair.
“You gave her your cloak once, don't you remember?”
“Aye…” He answered still leery of what the Kings plan and embarrassed of the King placing him at the center of attention.
Sansa cleared her throat and looked up at The Hound. He’d rescued her several times, even if it was unknowingly. The one memory of her being chased down an alleyway by rapists flashed through her mind. He had carried her back to safety then she remembered the way his armor had dug into her soft belly and the smell of blood and leather seemed almost as much as a part of him as his face. She remembered when he’s given her his white cloak to hide her nudity and the beatings from Ser Meryn, he had gently laid the fabric about her shoulders. She still had the cloak, it was one of the few possessions she was leaving with tonight.
“This.” He held up the scroll he had retrieved from the Grand Maester, “Is a writ from all my counselors and of course myself. We had decided, Sansa, that you will marry my Dog.” There was a collective gasp from the lords and ladies in the courtroom. “A canine pairing.” He said amused with himself. She heard the Hound suck in his breath and nearly forget to breathe. Sansa’s mouth hung open in disbelief.
Sansa’s mind was whirling she could not become a Clegane. She had to hold the Stark line. If her brother Robb was killed in battle then… her father's words came back to her and Margaery Tyrell spoke them aloud, “Your Grace?” He turned to look at her beautiful face, “Mustn’t there always be a Stark in the North? She is the only Stark that has not committed treason.”
“Ahh My Beloved points out a wonderful point but it is moot. Sansa is a higher house than Clegane and thus he will become a Stark. A Stark who I will be sure of his loyalty to the crown. Since Ser Gregor is a kingsguard now I have decided to dissolve your house and give you the Stark name.”
Sansa, unable to stop herself spoke out, “How could you do this? My line is over eight thousand years old. One of the oldest in these Seven Kingdoms. You cannot simply dissolve one house and give it to another.”
“Did you just say that I cannot?” Joffrey used his old fear tactics on her.
Sansa narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth, “Yes I did. You cannot give my house to another simply because you desire. A true Stark must always be in the North.”
“I agree.” he clapped his hands and a litany of clerks come forward, “Sansa your dedication to your family line is ...strange, considering it is littered with traitors.”
“I should like to prove there are loyalist to the crown, Your Grace, starting with myself.” She lied automatically when had lying become so easy for her?
“Good, then you won't mind this simple name change.”
“The North will not accept a man simply because of a name change.” She countered dangerously.
“He will be accepted, he will be married to you!” His face was red and his eyes bulging. “Do not dare tell me what I can and cannot do Stark.” It was a command and despite Sansa’s new winning attitude, Joffrey was still King.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Her voice as ice cold as her beloved North. “Forgive me, it is just so soon to be betrothed to another after you have broken my heart.” This seemed to appease the King.
She thought she heard The Hound snort, but she could not be sure under all the sound in the hall. She could see the panic in Cersei's eyes as they flitted to the Spider and to Littlefinger both of whom looked amused.
Changing his name was easier than Sansa thought it would be. Since he was King and a ruling descendant of House Lannister he had the authority to dissolve the Clegane house name and assign it to another.
The court was buzzing by the time that Joffrey was done making the proclamation that the wedding would take place in a week as he had been assured this would be the proper time. Tyrion, who Sansa had quite ignored until now spoke up, but it was only to discuss further war planning with the king to defeat her brother.
Sansa bobbed a curtsy and started to walk to the side knowing the show was done. The Hound stood in place. She walked back three steps and gently grasped his armored forearm and pulled him gently. He seemed to stay in his reverie and followed her to the side of the room and hidden behind courtiers. She made sure to stay in the line of the King. She knew he wanted her to suffer, knew he wanted to see it.
“My Lord?”
“Not no fuckin lord.” He snapped at her and she winced.
“You are going to be.” She said simply. The Hound fumbled around for his wineskin and took a deep draft of the sour red before looking at her again, his shoulders slumped and he handed her the pouch. Sansa took it and sipped from it.
“I...I don't even know your name.”
“Sandor Clegane…. Stark.”
“Dog!” Joffrey screamed for his favorite pet and Sandor looked up, “I still have your service for a week.” Sandor grunted and took back his wineskin back from her small hands.
*****
Sandor resumed his spot in front of the king, where he could see all the sympathetic glances everyone was throwing at Lady Sansa’s way. He knew he was an old ugly dog, he had thought her nothing but a pretty bird. One he would like to pin against a mattress and make scream with his cock, but still a pretty bird nonetheless. Sandor had never pictured himself with a wife, let alone a Lady. What had gotten into her today, she was playing a dangerous game with the King. One he couldn’t save her from if the idiot boy King was able to discern her compliments were really insults. He had felt her anger rolling off her in waves as he had stood next to her, Sandor wasn’t a fool he knew she didn’t want to marry him. No one ever would. Why would the King pair them together? Surely the King knew he would take the Little Bird back up to Winterfell.
He knew the King had some other motive behind her humiliation, or maybe not. Maybe the King simply wanted the beautiful girl to be with someone as ugly as him. Hell, maybe the King thought he still had a hold over the Winterfell. No one but a Northerner could hold Winterfell, no one else would be respected. How could he run something that large, he hadn’t even been looked at twice to run Clegane Keep. Then not to mention there was Robb, her brother would be pissed and Sandor couldn’t blame him. What would happen when the King in the south proclaimed one Lord and the King in the North was by right the same lord. Had Joffrey even thought about it. Did Joffrey care, Sansa had more brothers, ones that were not officially labeled traitors to the crown yet. Despite what his cock thought Sandor knew better than to hope for a smooth transition. He knew the king would demand he plant a babe in her as soon as possible to ensure loyalty.
When court was dismissed, Tyrion called him over and he reluctantly went to his side. “How did you manage that?”
“What?” He said gruffly.
“That Marriage is more advantageous to you than it is to her.” The Imp pointed out, “What did you do for the King to allow such a thing.”
“I didn’t, half man.” She still sang of beautiful knights and dashing heroes. He was none of these. “Why the fuck I want to marry the Little Bird?”
Tyrion looked at him as if where daft, “Joffrey doesn’t do anything without anyone suffering.” The imp said as Lady Sansa approached them. He looked his fill at his future wife. She was a long way from when she came to Kings Landing 5 years ago. Her hips and flared and her waist nipped in. Her beautiful red hair had darkened and hung to her waist. The locks were done simply, two simple braids formed at her temples forcing her hair to stay out of her face.
“My Lords” She bobbed another curtsy and looked to him. If she had heard the Imps question she gave no indication that she had.
“Lady Sansa, I wonder if I could ask you a question?”
“Yes, Lord Tyrion.” She clasped her hands in front of her stomach and Sandor wondered again how fast Joffrey would want pups from him. He wondered if he could hold it off until she would want to come to him, if ever.
“What does the North depend on most in Winter?”
Sansa’s eyes flickered to Sandor, “Fire.”
“Ah, that would be why.” He looked up at Sandor. “I could speak with the King, get him to change his mind for you Sansa.”
Sandor nodded, understanding, “Wait.” She said, surprising both men. Sandor’s shrewd gray eyes snapped to her. “My Lord Tyrion….” She tried. Sansa wanted to go home and she would take any avenue presented to her. “Don’t bother the King with this. If this is his decree then we should honor it.”
Tyrion openly gaped at her, “Lady Sansa?”
“Sandor has been very kind to me. He has saved my life countless times.” That was the truth, she had no idea why he would do such a thing if he was loyal to the Lannisters but he had.
“That's not enough to make a marriage.”
“Marriages have been built on less and worse.” She countered. Why was she fighting for this, Sandor thought. “If you excuse us I need my fiance for a few minutes.”
Tyrion sketched a bow and went the visibly furious Queen. “Why?” Sandor asked.
“Why what?”
“Don’t be stupid Girl, why did you stop him from speaking with the King? And no singing those insipid songs your Septa taught you.” Sandor asked anger in his voice.
Sansa nibbled her lower lip. Should she tell him the truth? He had been her only friend here since her father's death and Margaery's arrival. Would he believe her? No, she decided he wouldn’t he thought everyone used him. She would use that avenue. “Why would I not? You are my avenue home and I am your avenue away from Joffrey. This is a good thing.” Sandor was not convinced, still, he flinched inwardly. She was only using him as a way home.
“Besides,” She continued, “You are the only thing that stands between me and my ‘beloved’ king.” Sandor glared at her for repeating what he had said her years ago after she had tried to thank him for saving her. He opened his mouth to snarl something at her when he was called by the King.
“Come dog!” Joffrey screeched and Sandor pulled a face, Sansa tried to hide her smile and failed. A true smile light her face and eyes, he expected to see relief in her eyes in spite of his anger he burned the image in his head he knew it would be one of the last times he saw it directed at him and his ugly half burnt face. He reached out to tug a curl that had slipped onto her shoulder, his armor clinking slightly, he stopped himself and turned toward the King and left her without another word.