The Traitor's Escape

Chapter Fourteen

Sansa hurried down the steps as quickly as she could, ignoring Kyme's warnings to be careful. Why had Sandor returned so late? He was supposed to return days ago! Had someone been injured? Or worse, had they found Robb dead? Images of her dream flashed across her eyes. Could those men she had seen been part of Sandor's party?

As soon as she was to the main entrance of the Keep, the Clegane Lady could see Willas and Igon there waiting. Both men turned at the sound of Sansa's impatient footsteps as she hurried down beside them. Willas smiled at her first in greeting. "Ah, my Lady. I'm glad Kyme could get you so quickly."

"Is it true? Has Sandor and the others returned already?" she asked, almost gasping and pressing one hand against her side where a stitch had started to form.

"I believe I have seen a traveling party return with our Banner," Igon confirmed. "We can't be certain it is Clegane and the lads, but we figured you would rather know..."

"No, no, I appreciate it," she responded, smiling back politely. It was too dark outside to make out the group of the men. "How far out are they supposed to be?"

"Likely we should see them in just a few moments," he said. If she squinted enough into the darkness, Sansa could almost make out the group of bodies.

Anxiously, she wrung her hands together, unable to take her eyes off the men quickly approaching the Keep. If only they could move a bit quicker... Was Sandor truly with them? Or were her hopes being brought up for nothing? She had missed him terribly while he was gone...

If only it was ladylike to run out towards the horses. Willas wasn't particular about her being ladylike (she briefly wondered just what Margaery's childhood had been like), but Sansa didn't want to push it. Besides, what good would it do to make herself look a fool in front of strangers? There was no indication that Sandor was there... And besides, even if...

By now, the shapes of the men were more distinguishable. At the center of the party, a much larger host sat in the middle. He seemed to nudge his horse faster than the others, ignoring who it was he was leaving behind. Closer and closer, he seemed to get... Her breath caught in her throat. It had to be. The man was massively tall in stature. There was no one else as large as Sandor around High Garden. Sansa couldn't help herself; her feet moved of their own accord, down the steps and across the front yard, just at the edge of the torch light.

As soon as the dark warhorse, Stranger, was at the edge of the light, the rider was swinging down. Sansa could make out his features now. The burns, his scars twisting one side of his face, his hair brushed over more to cover the disfigured half, his large frame and the way the corner of his mouth twitched as a sort of grin formed on her husband's face. He looked over her, as if to see if she was okay.

Then his arms were around her waist, lifting her up into his arms. She clung to him, laughing breathlessly, and kissed him. "I'm so glad you're home," she murmured against his mouth.

"Were you treated okay, Little Bird?" he rasped, slowly letting her down to the ground, but his hands lingered on her.

She nodded, smiling shyly. "My time alone was perfectly kind. Calliene even brought your new tunics and breeches and my gowns as well."

"Smart cunts then. They know to keep you happy," he said, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of her auburn hair. She almost leaned into his touch.

Had it really been only a little over eight days since he had left? It felt like a lifetime. Taking her eyes off him was difficult. She was worried he would disappear if she did.

The other riders, Lucas, Lorent, and Lyonel, were close behind Sandor. From behind Sansa, she could hear the footsteps she assumed were Willas' and Igon's. As the parties began to meet in the middle, Sansa reluctantly stepped back from Sandor to give the others room. As Willas said openly, "Welcome back, Clegane. I'll assume the trip went well?", Sandor grunted in return, his eyes never leaving her.