The Traitor's Escape

Chapter Four

With news of High Garden fast approaching, the crew went into a sort of panic. It wasn't a chaotic mess Sansa might have imagined. The crewmates were nothing, but collected. However, they began to clean. Everything. From the tops of the decks to the smallest crevices, each member was adamant to make the wood and rooms spotless. Jacelyn had her sisters moving all day long, getting the food in the kitchen secured and ready to undock. Sansa was sent off to a corner, prepping up the food for the evening meal. She wasn't allowed to lift a hand to assist in any other physical labor. When Jacelyn snapped at her, Sansa huffed and muttered, "I'm not fragile." But no one seemed to care much.

After a while, when Sansa wandered out on deck for a quick walk, she was amazed at how bare a ship could look. All the barrels the men usually used as tables to eat and play were pushed up against a far wall, out of the way. The ropes were all coiled up into neat piles. Not one personal item was in sight. She wandered down to the lower deck, to the bunks and rooms. A quick peek into her room told Sansa Sandor had packed up all their belongings as well.

She wondered why the crew was so particular about how clean Secondwind was. Her mind wandered to many possibilities, more than worried that perhaps there was something wrong in High Garden she hadn't heard about. Could she be going to just a new cage, a new lie she wouldn't be able to escape? All she'd heard about High Garden was how beautiful and open the place was, that Lord Willas was nothing, but kind. That was anything, but reassuring. She remembered the same words used for King's Landing and Joffrey.

She refused to be fooled again. She wasn't naïve or stupid and she understood what was going on in her life now. The world was an ugly place, people were not good or kind like the stories had made everyone out to be. Sansa refused to trust anyone's word. All she had left was Sandor and what little was left of her family. Anyone else could be considered spies or liars.

With those depressing thoughts in mind, Sansa went back to the kitchens to help out some more.

By the time the evening meal was rolling around, the crew was utterly exhausted. However, the ship was beautiful. The wood surfaces were cleaner than Sansa could ever believe possible. Every object was put into its rightful place. There was not one person who didn't scrub themselves clean. Sansa had to ask what was going on. She questioned Jacelyn, as they were displaying the evening meal, "Why is everyone so intent on making the place so clean?"

She glanced at the redhead and said, "Rumor 'as it, Lord Willas be meetin' us when it board. Won't want 'im thinkin' we not fit for sea travel."

Sansa tensed a bit, trying not to look guilty. So far, no one aside from the captain even knew who she was. It was probably obvious enough who the Hound was. She could only hope that no one else connected her identity with hers. She didn't want anyone knowing she was a Clegane/Stark or that there was another Heir being brought toward the North. She continued asking, "Is that a bad situation, where he stops in and visits?"

Jacelyn's brows furrowed and she said, "'e never done this before is all."

Emmie interrupted the two, tugging Sansa's dress and asking about one of the platters in her hand, and that was enough distraction to change the subject completely. Dinner came and, as expected, it was hectic, loud, and, with the high strung emotions, several friendly fist fights ensured. Sansa kept mostly to herself and the three girls. She watched Emmie and Scarla play with shells and little dolls Emmie had snuck into the dining area. Jacelyn spoke with Sansa and her sisters when she wasn't busy breaking up fights and messing around with the crew.

Sansa spotted Sandor among the men, busy in a sort of game with cards and shells. She couldn't help herself; she watched him, intrigued by his movements and motives and wondering just what he might be up to. He caught her eyes more than once and each time, Sansa ducked her head and started paying closer attention to the games Emmie was busy trying to involve her in. She knew she needed to give her husband a bit of peace, so he could work out his frustrations with her. At the same time, she missed being with him. They hadn't had the most open relationship to begin with, but she always knew she could go to him before. Now, she wondered whether she was really welcomed at all.