The Forest Child {Sandor Clegane Story}

Conflicted

Sandor was stood outside the walls of Winterfell with the rest of the remaining forces which survived the fight against the undead. To his sides stood Tormund and another northern solider. In front of him stood Jon Snow with the Daenarys. Arya was stood with Bran and Sansa, slowly she had turned around to look at Sandor with strong eyes yet a sadness was hidden deep beneath them. 

Lay out infront of them all were the bodies of those who did not survive the fight. Hundreds of them laying peacefully now as their fight had finally ended. Slowly, Jon Now stood out from the crowd and began to call out.

"We are here to say goodbye to our brothers and sisters. To our fathers and mothers. To our friends, our fellow men and women who set aside their differences to fight together, and die together so that others might live. Everyone in this world owes them a bet that can never be repaid. It is our duty and our honor to keep them alive in memory, for those who come after us and those who come after them. They were the shields that guarded the realms of men and we shall never see their light again".

One by one people from the crowd walked out with lite torches and gently pressed the flame to the wooden beds which the bodies were laid to rest on. Soon the smoke was pillowing through the air and the scent of death with it. Unable to deal with the smell much longer, Sandor left the rest of the group and walked solemnly back into the castle. 

Later that day a feast was held in the hall of winterfell, to remeber the dead and celebrate the end of the Night King. Sandor had spent most of the night sat alone, drinking as much ale as he could when Tormund came and sat with him.

"And after all that, that fucker comes north and takes her from me. I mean it Clegane, my heart is broken" Tormund sobbed with red, tear filled eyes and slapped him hand onto Sandors shoulder.

"Don't touch me" Sandor grumbled without turning to look at the red hair wildling. 

"You can touch me" a sweet female voice suddenly called behind the two men. 

Tormund quickly stood up from the table and wrapped him arm around the small woman. "Well Clegane, it is time to drown my sorrow" Tormund smiled now.

"I ain't done with my drink" Sandor grunted, trying to ignore the other girl who still stood behind him smiling. 

As Tormund and his 'friend' disappeared out of the hall, Sandor downed the rest of the ale in his cup as the other girl came to sit next to him. 

"You ready now?" she asked with seductive eyes.

"Aye he is, now fuck off" Natari suddenly announced from behind them as she leaned against Sandor and brought her lips to ear. 

Sandor waited for the girl to disappear, before quickly turning around to his wife and pulling her down on to his lap. "You've been out for nearly two days, you should be resting".

"I cannot stay in bed any longer. I should have been there today, for the funerals" she sighed and twirled a strand of his hair around her finger.

"I remember the last time you were injured, on the way to Kings Landing after you saved the queen. I remember that terrified look on your face when you thought the outlaws had you, the way you looked down to me as I held you legs and the healer pulled out the arrow. I spent the next three days staring at the stairs in that Inn, waiting for you to come down or overhear something about you. You came down eventually, dressed in that loose grey dress, the material practically hanging off your body, the way it made me feel".

"And how do you feel now?" she asked him softly.

"Conflicted".

"You love me still?" Natari questioned him with a worried brow.

"That's not even a question woman, ever. There is something else I have to do though, go somewhere, a place you cannot follow me".

"Your brother" Natari sighed.

"Aye" Sandor whispered in a husky voice as he grabbed her chin and forced her to face him.

"When?"

"I'll leave tomorrow, try and get there before the rest of the armies show up and fuck everything up".

"Then we must make tonight one to remember".