A Little Unorthodox, I'll Admit.

Through The Woods.

It was the chirping of a little bird that first stirred him, and the singing of the Northern Princess that woke him. Sandor's eyes opened to a most unexpected sight; Three freshly-skinned rabbits skewered over a crackling fire and beside that, Sansa Stark sat polishing the snout of his snarling helm as she joined the pirched bluebird in a wordless song.

He squinted his eyes shut, then opened them again to be sure he wasn't dreaming, and rubbed them for good measure as he sat up, gaping at her. Somehow, she was as real as anything else he'd seen with his waking eyes. "The Hell you doing, Little Bird?" he asked, baffled at his own blunder; The term of endearment rolled off his tongue quicker than it seemed to occur to him. The fuck is happening to me?

She flashed a pearly smile at him and enthusiastically presented him with his helm, shinier than the day he first wore it. "It's....clean."

"I thought to show you my gratitude, in hopes you may accept my apologies for my behavior yesterday." She said, fiddling with another kerchief she'd mustered from Gods knew where. "Oh! Breakfast." She abruptly turned her attention to the fire, removing the small game from the fire and setting them to cool.

"What's this all about, Princess? Where the fuck did you get the rabbits?!" he asked, incredulous.

"I found them," She started, and he interrupted.

"And killed them, and skinned them,"

"And skewered them, yes. When one lives alone, she must know how to fend for herself."

"And your Septa taught you all of this?" Sandor literally scratched his head in genuine curiosity, for the first time in what seemed like many passing Summers and Winters.

She smirked at him, "No, Sir."

Before he could correct her again, they both were startled out of their skins by Arya's waking; She suddenly sat upright, eyes open, and unsheathed her miniature sword all in an instant, making some indistinguishable exclamation. A second or two of silence passed before the three of them joined in a fit of laughter.

After their fast was properly broken, they leisurely wandered deeper south, into the wood.

***

They were in the thick of the woods when Arya asked her sister about the day she saw a dragon's shadow over Harenhaal. 

"It's something we all hear about in our upbringing, through stories and song." Sansa explained, "But it's nothing any of us ever believe we will see in our lifetime. At first, I simply could not believe my eyes! Before I could even try to, there was fire."

Sandor stirred in his saddle, sideways glancing at her as she sat between his arms, recounting her memory. That damned fire. 

"I was strolling the courtyard with my Septa when it happened, reciting the histories of our Seven Kingdoms to her just as if it were any other afternoon. She told me to run for my chamber and send a raven, if any remained. I looked back, just in time to see her engulfed in flame. I'll never forget her face, contorted and...well, most notably, I will never forget the smell. It lingered for days in the fog surrounding the castle. "

The smell, Sandor thought. "Better her than you, Princess".

She didn't chastise him like he expected. Rather, she returned his sideways glance. "She was a miserable, boring old lady. But she cared for me. I should have been more appreciative of her. She didn't deserve to die." 

We all deserve to die. Sandor thought, but he also knew for certain that Joffrey did not deserve this girl as his Queen. He deserved a ruthless, selfish cunt just like his mother. He couldn't help but feel guilty, carrying her to her ill fate.