Love Me Softly

4

Her sister leaves.

Sansa sends the Hound with her.

"You're our sworn sword."  Her voice is low, a hiss, and he stares down at her.  He is not loyal in the way that Brienne is loyal, with her common courtesies and refined restraint.  He is the loyal in the manner in which a stray dog is loyal- wandering and brutal, but ready to close its jaws around anyone who comes too close regardless of honor.  She finds that his way is more of a comfort.  "Protect her."

"I swore to you, too."  He is not looking at her, just staring at the ground, which might have less to do with respect and more to do that she was sunk neck deep in a tub of steaming hot water.  It was a comfort they did not have time for, but one that has become necessary to slow the ache spreading over her ribs.  "The little she-wolf can take care of herself."

"I'll have Brienne."  He rolls his eyes and she flicks water towards him.  "She beat you once, if I remember right."

"Aye."  He rocks back and forth on his feet.  "But I'm living.  Those dead things- you haven't seen them."

People like to remind her of that.  Her brother, his Queen, Gendry, all of them speaking in the hushed tones of those who have witnessed a massacre, telling her that even if they did try to explain it, it wouldn't even come close.

They're death, my lady, Gendry had said, when she had cornered him in the forge.  That's the best way to explain it.

I've seen death, she had snapped back, and reached out to grab a dragonglass knife from the pile.   It had cut her when she yanked it free, and now there was nothing either of them could do but stare at the blood spilling free from her palm.  That still doesn't tell me a thing about what we're facing.

They're dead, and they fight like if they do enough of it, it might bring them back to life.  When they come, he says, and his eyes were kind.  She never thought that Arya would find someone so kind for her to love.  I hope for your sake you're locked up somewhere safe where you don't have to find out what I mean.

"I'll have Brienne," She repeats.  "My sister has no one."

"Little Bird-,"

She stands, and the water sloshes over her, and he stops short, his face burning and jaw snapping together.  He stares for just a moment too long.

"I'm not a little bird anymore.  And I'm not alone.  This is my home, Sandor.  It would be a comfort to die here."  She had spent enough time in foreign castles to know that.  "But my sister is alone.  And lone wolves don't tend to survive for very long, even though she's better at it than most."

He doesn't answer, doesn't turn to look at her, just keeps staring at the wall.

"This is war, Clegane.  And you're a free man.  But you wanted to serve with honor, and this is my command."  He was afraid, she knew, and she tried to make her voice gentle as she pulled the furs around her.  "This is what that looks like."

Tyrion comes to find her the next morning.  "You can't be surprised."  He says, and she waves away the lords next to her so she can stare down at him in private.  "That she left you."

Sansa makes a sound in the back of her throat that she hopes comes across as a scoff.

"She ran after our brother.  That's not a surprise."  She does not slow down for him, just keeps moving through the castle stores and counting bushels of grain and barrels of ale, twisting her way through all of the racks of meat that were hanging from the ceiling.  She had the food split up in three different places, all heavily guarded, just in case one was compromised.  "It's what she's always done."