The Forest Child {Sandor Clegane Story}

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On the east coast of Westeros, a group of villagers were building a temple for the seven.

"In all my days I've never seen a man swing an axe like that," Septon Ray smiled.

"I think some of the men are a bit afraid of you. You know, when I found you, I thought you'd been dead for days. You were stinking already and had bugs all over ya. And there was a bone coming right through your knee. I was gonna give you a proper burial and then you coughed. Nearly shat meself. I reckoned you were gonna die by the time I loaded you into the wagon, but ya didn't, I reckoned you'd die a dozen more times over the next few days, but ya didn't. What kept you going?" he added.

Finally, the man put down the axe and turned to the septon.

"A woman," he grunted.

"Aye, that's usually the way. But the gods have bigger plans for you Sandor Clegane."

"You didn't know me back in my time. You don't know the things I've done."

"I've heard stories," the septon smirked.

Across the waters, in the free cities, Natari woke with a sweet pain between her legs. As she rolled over in the straw bed, she watched as Jaqen slept peacefully next to her.

"A woman watches a man sleep," he smiled with his eyes still closed.

"You say woman now. I am no longer a girl to you?" she chuckled back as she moved closer into his side.

"You are a man's woman," he whispered with his eyes still closed as he quickly pinched at her nipple underneath the bed covers.

Later that day, Jaqen gives her her first mission. She was to kill an actress called Lady Crane. She didn't bother to ask why she knew it was her duty to do as her faceless gods commanded. Lady Crane would apparently be acting in a play just South of the busy market place. Jaqen had rowed her to port and told her to return as soon as she had completed her work.

When Natari finally reached the play, the crowd had already gathered. She did not know nor care was it was about, but she had heard others call it the play of the bloody queen. Standing to the side she watched the first half, waiting for her target to appear. She soon realised the play was about Queen Cersei. It was the day of King Joffrey's wedding. There were also across playing Sansa who was for some reason married to the imp. The play ended as King Joffrey died from poison.

"Is that true?" Natari asked the old woman stood by her side.

"That the boy king is dead. Aye. Have you been living under a rock girl? Apparently, it was the red-haired traitor girl and her imp husband," she coughed.

Natari suddenly felt sick. Sansa had married the imp and the evil boy was murdered. But where was Sansa now, was she even alive? Slowly, she stepped away from the crowd and ran back through the market place. She continued to run until her legs burned with anger. It had been so long since she had last thought of her sisters. So long since she had remembered her mission and promise to Lady Stark. The guilt of failure was almost overwhelming as she dropped to her knees and began to cry.

As night fell over the city, Natari finally pulled her strength together. She had failed the mission Jaqen had given her, but she had reignited another. Slowly, she dragged her tired body to the port and rowed back to the temple.

"I told you she would fail. She is still the girl she came her as," the waif hissed to Jaqen the moment Natari stepped foot inside.

"A woman has failed her mission, her purpose, her gods!" Jaqen called out her.

"My sister Sansa, she still lives and Joffrey is dead," she replied, still in shock at the news.

"A woman is no one. A woman has no sister!" Jaqen hissed back, angered by the woman in front of him.

Natari knew she had disappointed him, but she found no words to speak. Instead, she watched as the waif and the man she had loved the previous night, disappear in the darkness of the temple. Instantly, Natari knew she was no longer safe. Meanwhile, in the inner temple, the waif waited patiently for Jaqen to speak.

"You must not let her suffer," he sighed.

The next morning, Natari was wondering through the port, trying to find travel back to Westeros.

"Spare some change child?" An old woman asked her.

Natari ignored the woman as she continued to walk further down the port. By mid-morning, she had finally found a ship to take her home. The ship would be leaving in a few hours, so she returned to the market place to find more suitable clothes for the journey back.

As Natari stopped to take in the views one last time, the older begging woman from before appeared at her side."Sweet girl" she smiled toothlessly.

Suddenly, the old lady pulled out a knife and charged at Natari. That was when she noticed the old woman transform into the younger face of the waif.

"You!" Natari hissed as she dodged another blow.

"Who are you?" The Waif smiled smugly before quickly charging again.

Natari dodged the waif again, suddenly the memory of her times fighting her brothers and Jory at Winterfell rushed through her mind.

I will not die today

Quickly, Natari blocked and twisted the waifs arm. Grabbing the knife from her hand she quickly spun around and dived the blade into the side of the waif's neck.

"I am Natari Targaryen" she hissed into the waif's ear as she watched the life drain from her eyes.

Back inside the temple, Jaqen walked through the inner temple, waiting for the news of Natari's death. Despite giving the order to kill, he felt a sadness within. He had grown extremely fond of Natari and began to wish they had met in another life. As Jaqen continued to wonder the temple, he suddenly noticed a bloody knife on the ground just a few steps from his feet. Looking up he saw the fresh blood-covered face of the waif sat upon the wall.

"You told her to kill me!" Natari suddenly announced from behind.

Slowly, Jaqen turned around and dropped his head to the side. "Yes, but here you are, and there she is. Are you going to kill me now?"

"No. Not today" Natari replied cautiously.

Jaqen smiled and took a step closer towards her. "Finally a woman is no one."

"A woman is Natari Targaryen of Winterfell, and I am going home."