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Sansa had been watching the dawn rays shine through her window, moving across the wall. It would be a clear sun filled day, the kind she dreamed of as girl before coming to Kings Landing.
Should she get up? There was no court expected today, with the war coming closer to the capital and battle imminent, would anyone notice if she did not rise?
At Winterfell her mother would have noticed, an image of her sister receiving yet another lesson on proper behaviour rising unbidden in her mind. A Lady does not remain abed and undressed unless they are sick. She wished her mother was here to berate her, or Arya. She should get dressed, perhaps a walk to the Godswood before the heat became too oppressive.
The noise of a mailed fist pounding at her door made her start. Her heart sank, she was not to be spared the King's attention today. The door opened before she could speak, her room filling with servants led by the worst of the kingsguard, Ser Meryn. She hated him, of all those who carried out the King's orders, he was the one who took particular joy in them. He was as horrible as ever, swaggering across the room with a smug grin on his face.
"Does King Joffery request my presence ser?"
"The King asks you to join him in the courtyard below."
"Kindly if you would wait outside my room to escort me then my maid will help me dress"
Why wasn't he leaving, and why were there so many servants? Sansa did not want to be late and risk the King's displeasure, but she did not wish to dress with so many people in the room even though there was a dressing screen. The kingsguard just laughed at her and started ordering the servants to fetch her clothes.
"Please, it will be quicker if you let me find a dress, I do not wish to keep the King waiting."
"That's exactly what the King wants you to do, find your dresses" replied Ser Meryn, still smiling smugly, like he knew something she did not.
"I don't understand." A noise behind her made her turn, the servants were throwing her clothes out of the window. Why would anyone do this? One dress snagged on the frame, ripping as it fell, this did not make sense.
"The King thinks you do not appreciate how he provides for you, and feels this will teach you a lesson. He expects you fetch your clothes. And looks forward to your company in the courtyard below."
Seemingly his task was complete as the servants and guards swept out of the room as quickly as they had entered, leaving her doors and windows swinging open. She knelt by her ransacked chests, the servants had done exactly as ordered, all her gowns were removed, even the too small northern dresses she had long grown out of.
"Lady Sansa" her maid's voice came from the doorway. "I came as soon as I heard."
"Shae, can you help me?"
"I can pin up your hair, but the servants have all been told not to bring you any clothes, I am sorry."
She sighed. "What am I supposed to do?" She did not really expect an answer. Should she stay here and hope this was forgotten, or would delaying the inevitable make it worse. It might be acceptable in the south to wear lighter dresses but the thought of having to parade in front of the King and his cronies in nightclothes was not one she relished.
Why was Joffery like this? Her sister might have hidden a hair ribbon in a tree, but never to humiliate like this. Shae started to brush out her hair and she winced as a tangle was removed.
"You will not like my suggestion but you have nothing to be ashamed of. Stand tall and walk out like you are wearing proper clothes and there is no reason to be embarrassed."
"I can't do that!"
"Well what is better? Trying to hide yourself as they all laugh at you?"
It was still early in the day, and the first duty, checking the guards are in place where the King is expected to be today is nearly complete. This close to the battle some of the red cloaks were starting to creep away if they thought no one would see them. To desert, spend time with family, he didn't care, if he was stuck waiting to be attacked they were going to be too.
A motion behind him made him turn, for a moment he thought it a body falling from the apartments above, instead it was a grey dress, followed by a rainfall of coloured dresses.
He would know those dresses anywhere, what would make the little bird throw all her things down into the courtyard like that? She will gain attention she had best avoid like this, if he bundles them up now he can return them before his shift change and tell her how utterly stupid she is.
Reaching for a blue gown that has caught on a torch bracket he starts gathering the scattered contents of what must be a whole wardrobe.
"Stop Dog!" a nasal voice interupted him. The boy king and his current guard, Trant, emerged from the opposite side of the courtyard where a cushioned gold seat was being placed.
"Come here Dog, see what do you think of the entertainment!"
"Your Grace"
"My betrothed is shortly to appear to reclaim her belongings" giggled the King.
This is childish nonsense even for him, even more ridiculous when we should be preparing for battle. Sandor murmured his excuses as the King's attention was elsewhere and stalked off. He sighed deeply. Now he should keep checking the guards, so why were his feet taking him towards the Little Bird's room?
Shae finished adding the pins to her hair and answered the door.
"What are you doing here Hound, not down in the courtyard waiting to laugh at my lady?" she said in an angry tone Sansa would not dare to use herself.
"This was none of my doing and I have better things to do with my day than watch collection of laundry." Sandor growled back at her maid. "What did that toad do?"
Sansa stood "He said the King thought I needed to be more grateful for the things he had provided, and, and, I would learn humility by fetching my clothes by myself"
"Can't stop finding new ways to hurt her" muttered Shae while starting to put away her remaining belongings.
"It isn't new"
"Has he done this before, taken things from others?" Sansa asked, feeling some hope, perhaps there could be a solution. "Who has he done this to, and what did they do?"
"Tommen, and Myrcella. But they were younger."
Sansa felt some relief, she hadn't heard tales of this which was surely a good sign.
"How did Tommen get his things back, please tell me, maybe I can do the same."
"Not likely, he got one of his cats to pull a piece of clothing towards him." Sansa's relief starts to fade, impromptu cat training would not help.
"I don't have a cat"
"Wouldn't be a good pet for a little bird anyway"
"What about Myrcella, what did she do?"
Sandor seemed to pause briefly before responding "I don't think you'd want to do that" he paused "She dressed as me"
"A set of kingsguard armour" said Sansa in surprise "But I could not stand in armour let alone collect clothes."
"I do have other clothes" he grumbled.
"Thank you but it still wouldn't work, Ser Meryn said no one is to help me, I would not want anyone else..."
"Who is going to do the punishing? No one else can beat me and I'm hardly going punish myself. Asides, it was the same rules for Myrcella."
After a few minutes Sandor had returned with some clothes that most definitely were not her own clothes, or any clothes belonging to a lady.
He thrust the clothes at her, a pair of brown breeches and a tunic that looked vaguely familiar.
"Why are you helping me?" Sansa asked.
"Don't have time for this nonsense before a battle, bad for morale." he barked back, rapidly leaving "Concentrate on defences not playing games."
Sansa unfolded the breeches and stepped into them. They were, predictably, utterly massive on her. But with the belt done up and her riding boots, they would work. The thick tunic went on last, the large neck hole showing her collar bones but covering her hands to the end of her fingers.
"I look ridiculous" she said out loud to no one in particular.
"You look dressed, and that was what matters" retorted Shae.
Sansa caught sight of herself in the mirror, she hadn't been complaining. It was just so different to see herself like, well, like her own opposite. The clothes felt so different to anything she had worn before.
She thought of her sister, missing her. Perhaps she is alive, one day I will get to share this story with her. Arya wouldn't creep into the courtyard like a mouse. She would have walked out there naked if needed. Sansa took a deep breath and a first step.
Up on the battlements in the evening it there was usually a cooling breeze, a respite from the heat of the day, tonight was no exception. Preparations for defending the city continued below, but here Sansa could enjoy the quiet and put her thoughts in order.
"You found your feathers then Little Bird"
For a very large man Sandor Clegane had an uncanny knack of creeping up on her when he was least expected.
"Yes, thank you." Sansa replied by rote, then gathering her courtesies "that is, I am thankful for your help."
"Not the worst thing he's done to you" he spoke while looking out towards the sea. "You looked like a squire or a hedge Knight, hand down clothes and starving skinny."
"I will have your clothes washed and returned to you."
"No need, you barely wore them. Not sure a little bird like you could make my clothes smell anyway."
"You must need them back though, I would not want you to be without."
"Can't say as I was intending to meet Stannis wearing a woollen tunic instead of a suit of armour." he rumbled, as near a laugh as she had seen from him "I'll reclaim them if we win."
"How are your battle preparations going?" Sansa asked.
"Don't tell me you are interested in Joffery's defences being successful."
"I am just trying to make conversation, I will leave you to enjoy air if you wish."
"That's what you think I want to talk about? It's no better than meaningless pleasantries, or those idiots moaning about potholes in the Kings Road this autumn. As if it is the state of the road that matters, rather than my brother's men who will attack you as you sleep half way through your journey."
Sansa stood motionless, should I stay she thought, or make excuses to leave.
"Horrified at that are you?"
Her tongue was as motionless as her body before a question she'd had before but had been to polite to ask sprang from her mouth.
"I'd wondered... "
"If your arms, that is the clegane arms, are three black dogs on yellow background, why is your tunic red with just one dog?"
For a moment no one spoke. Nothing she could say would ever be right. Politeness was wrong, court pleasantries were unwanted, but it seemed that in asking something personal a boundary may have been crossed.
"My apologies, I should not have asked."
"No. You've no one to tell I suppose" he began slowly "I had a sister."
"I did not know."
"Are you going to let me tell the tale or not?" he barked at her. Seemly taking her silence for ascent he continued,
"She was the second born of the family, older than me but younger than my brother. When I was injured she would help tend me. When I was tired she would sing to me. My sister was ordinary looking as best as I can remember, tall like all of us. It was me and her, together every day. We hid in the woods and played when we could. Played knights and maidens, and loved each other as much as we hated our brother. The red and black of the tunic, it came from her, from then."
"Not the actual tunic. I mean the idea. Her idea. That Gregor was awful and so I would become a Knight, carry out famous deeds and be awarded my own arms. And she had the design all worked out in her head. It would be one dog, because it was just for me, and the red base was the sunrise, for a new beginning."
"So the red tunic had a leather dog head sewn on for her, to remember my sister."
"The idea didn't work out though. The Clegane name is imfamous, I'm the monster not the Knight in this tale and no king is ordering the rescuing of anyone."
Sansa watched as he glanced back towards her, the mood changing.
"Back to your room now, and try not to get your wings clipped again tomorrow."
Sansa walked back to her room and thought to look at the red dog folded on her chest of rescued clothes. It was a sad tale he'd told, he had loved his sister clearly, though she knew better than to ask what had happened to her.
Hard to imagine a man, so large and oftentimes angry, playing at rescuing a maiden from a tower. That his sister had designed a coat of arms, would she have done that for Bran, or for Rickon if she had had the chance?
Fingering the tunic she found there was a small hole at the side, like a sword belt had repeatedly rubbed it. She could not sleep yet anyway, so found out her sewing box and started to mend the fraying fabric. Perhaps the mending would be her thanks as Sandor Clegane was so reluctant to hear the words spoken.
If she was her sister though, she wouldn't be mending it. No, she would wait until the battle and put it on, and run away dressed as a very scrawny squire. I cannot though. I couldn't be strong enough to run away she thought holding up the mended tunic to check her work. Can I? Sansa folded the tunic neatly and replaced it at the top of the pile. If anyone did need it, it was fixed.
"I could keep you safe…No one would hurt you again, or I’d kill them."
Sansa thought, there was risk with leaving, but risk with staying too. A deep breath.
"Wait a moment while I put on the dog's head tunic."