The Traitor's Wedding

Chapter Four

The room the newly married couple was brought to was quite a difference. Instead of the small childish room she'd had before, this one reminded her vaguely of her parents back in Winterfell. It was much more spacious with larger windows and more airflow, but it had the matureness one would expect of a married couple. There was a direct view of the sea from her larger window that also contained a little seat right below filled with satiny, soft pillows. She could easily see herself reading in that window when she had nothing else to do. To the left, there was a small dining area, with a table for the two of them to sit and enjoy their own meals. The bathroom was, unfortunately, more exposed than she would have liked. It would be difficult to keep herself covered... Oh.

They would be having a wedding night.

It wouldn't really matter if Sandor saw her nakedness during a bath or not. He'd been seeing more than enough of her tonight.

Her hands had started shaking a bit, so she clasped them together and looked away from the bathroom. The handmaidens were fluttering about, trying to clean things up as best as they could and move her things in at the same time. They must have brought everything over at some point during the ceremony. She sighed slightly, glancing at Sandor. He still seemed like he was really contemplating everything that was happening. She looked him over once and realized he was probably still starving.

She called over the smallest of her maids and asked, "Can you bring us something for our midday meal? I would greatly appreciate it."

"Oh, yes, of course. You both must be famished." She seemed more skittish than before and, when she glanced at the large form of the Hound, Sansa understood why.

"Thank you. I'm sure Sandor is quite famished and I find I'm a bit peckish, so if you wouldn't mind..."

Another one of her maids came over, fussing over the food as well. The girls all started off towards the kitchen, but Sansa called over Shae before the foreign girl could go from the room. "Yes, milady?" she asked, her accent clear.

"Did any of the handmaidens happen to find the cloak?" she asked quietly, glancing around the room.

"No."

"Would you mind bringing it? I still... It could be dangerous if it's found."

"I don't mind... Just... Are you safe?" Shae glared at the Hound at this point. He seemed to have been a little less stunned and glared just a fiercely at the foreign girl and snarled.

"I'm fine. He won't hurt me. Go and fetch the table cloth as well. I'm sure they'll blend nicely." She knew Shae would understand the double meaning.

Reluctantly, and still hesitant, Shae bowed her head and started from the room with one last warning look at Sandor. Now that they were suddenly alone, Sansa had no clue what to say. She wasn't even sure she could look at him right now. What were they supposed to say; 'I'm glad that we're married'? Who had to say that to the husband ever? Hesitantly, she turned to the large, fearsome man and decided it was best to wait and see what he had to say. He'd gone back to looking around the room, not acknowledging Sansa's current presence. Slightly annoyed, she opened her mouth to say something, anything really. But she was at a loss.

She didn't think everything that had happened had sunk in yet.

She certainly hadn't expected Sandor to suddenly start laughing, that bitter barking laughter he had. It made her mouth quirk into a smile and she hesitantly asked, "What is it?"

"We're fucking married, Little Bird," he said, his mouth twitching and his laughter starting up all over again. It made her giggle this time, because it was just too ironic. Between their shared laughter, he said, "The fucking irony of this shit world. You get stuck with an ugly old dog and I'm fucking married."