The Forest Child {Sandor Clegane Story}

Chicken

"Bring me one of those chickens" Sandor grunted at Polliver.

Arya and Sandor had continued on their way to nowhere when they had come across an inn. Arya had forced Sandor's hand and made them go inside. Apparently one of the men had killed her friend. Inside they had been greeted by a group of the Kings men. They were busy tormenting the inn keeper and his daughter when they walked inside.  

"You got money to pay for it?" Polliver, one of the leaders for the group of King's men who had recognised Sandor the moment he entered, asked

"YOU paid for it?" He spat back

"No. But we're the king's men. So, you got money?" Polliver chuckled.

"Not a penny. I'll still take that chicken,"

"Tell you what: we'll trade you. One of our little chickens for one of yours," Polliver smiled and turned to look at Arya. "Give us a go at your friend, Lowell there likes them a bit broken in," he added and slapped his friend on the back with a laugh.

Sandor smiled and leant back in his chair. "You're a talker. Listening to talkers makes me thirsty" he growled and reached across the table, grabbing Polliver's drink, and draining it.

"And hungry. Think I'll take two chickens" he continued as he wiped the ale from his mouth.

Polliver turned and looked at his men, before turning back to the Hound.  "You don't seem to understand the situation."

"I understand that if any more words come pouring out your cunt mouth, I'm gonna have to eat every fucking chicken in this room."

"You lived your life for the king. You gonna die for some chickens?" Polliver laughed nervously

"Someone is."

100 miles east Natari was wondering around in circles. She had never been a great tracker and struggled when it came to reading her location. Basically, she was lost. She knew or hoped that Sandor would have taken Arya to the Eyrie, if he was even with her. Arya had an aunt there and she was probably her last hope in finding safety. The only problem was, Natari had no idea where that was.

As the days continued onwards, Natari dragged her tired and broken body on. She had managed to catch one fish a few days ago, but that had been the last she had eaten and her body screamed at her for it. Finally, she was no longer able to carry on with no water, food or shelter she was completly spent. Falling to the ground, she crawled up into a ball and closed her eyes.

"Just kill me and have done with it!" she cried to God's.

"I'm afraid that won't be today," a voice student laughed behind her.

Back in Kings Landing, Sansa had spent the past the last week alone in her room. She was completely alone in the world now. Natari and Arya were most likely dead, and no one else would come to save her. On the 10th morning after the news of her brother and mother, Margaery and her grandmother requested her presence in the garden for afternoon tea. Sansa had wanted nothing more than to be left alone in her room, but she would not deny the two women. They had even sent Ser Loras to escort her and he had asked to link his arm in hers as they strolled through the gardens. In that moment, she almost forgot about all the torture she had faced.

"You grow more beautiful every day my lady," he smiled at her sweetly.

"You are too kind Ser Loras,"  she blushed just as Lady Margaery came towards them.

Margaery wrapped her arm around Sansas back with a sweet smile as she led them to an elder woman sat in the finest jewellery and silks.

"Sansa, it is an honour to introduce you to my grandmother. The Lady Olenna of House Tyrell."

"Oh my sweet child. It is so good of you to meet me and my foolish flock of hens," Olenna smiled and she presented her hand to Sansa.

Olenna then led the two young girls to the table as the servants quickly readied the cakes around them. "I'm much less boring than these others, Sansa. But now I want you to tell me the truth, about this royal boy?" 

"I... I... " Sansa stuttered.

"You, you, who else would know better? We have heard some troubling tales. Is there any truth in them?" She questioned further and reached out for her granddaughter's hand.

"Joffrey, King... his grace... He is very fair and handsome... and as brave as a lion" Sansa smiled.

"Yessss, all lannisters are lions and when a Tyrell farts it smells like roses. But how kind is he? How clever? Has he a good heart? A gentle hand?"

"I am to be his wife. I only wish to know what that means?" Margaery added.

"Are you frightened child? There's no need for that. We are only women here, tell us the truth," Olenna continued as she passed Sansa a piece of lemon cake.

"My father always told the truth," she whispered and looked down at her hands.

"Yes, your father had that reputation,  and they named him a traitor and took off his head for it," Olenna sighed.

"Joffrey!" Sansa quickly snapped. "Joffrey did that. He promised he would be mercifully and he cut off my father's head and he said that was mercy. Then he took me up on the walls and made me look at it!"

Sansa stopped as she felt an angry burn inside and her eyes tingled with the threat of tears.

"Go on, no harm will come from your truths," Margaery urged with kindness.

"I... I... I can't... I never meant... My father was a traitor, my brother, too... I... I have traitors blood. Please don't make me say anymore," Sansa whimpered.

"She's terrified grandmother" Margaery sighed.

"Speak freely child, we would never betray your confidence, I swear it."

Slowly, Sansa looked back up to the older lady and wiped a tear from her cheek. "He's a monster."