Secret Flames (Sandor Clegane)

Chapter 40

"Hold on, we've got ya!" Davos yelled out as he reached down for Sandors hand.

Clinging onto the broken wall, he feet dangling over a 100 feet drop, Sandor clenched his jaw as he forced all his strength to reach out for Davos. Breathing heavily, the two hands met and with then help of Gendry, Davos was finally able to pull the large man back to safety.

"The dead?" Sandor asked in exhaustion as he lay on the ground and looked back up.

"Are dead... like actually dead," Gendry smiled.

Closing his eyes, Sandor took a deep breath. Tallulah, she and Jon and managed to kill the Knight King. The thought brought over a cooling relief through his body.

"They should be on their way back now," Davos added with an equally large smile.

They should be on their way back now
The words repeated several times in Sandors mind, until he finally opened his eyes and quickly pulled himself up. His body was sore, he was sure he had broken several ribs and he could feel the warm wetness of fresh blood trickling down his cheek, but he didn't have time to focus on the pain. His only thought was getting Tallulah back.

In the courtyard below them, a friendly horn blasted through the air as the gates to the city opened and Jon and Tallulah came galloping through on horseback. The moment they reached the rest of the forces, strangers, friends and allies came over to clap them on the bag and cheer out cries of celebration and relief. Tallulah smiled kindly at them all, repeating over and over, "we did it together." But when her eyes moved over the crowd and to the only person she really wished to see, she quickly pushed through groups of celebrating people and straight into the arms of the man she loved more than anything. The man she would kill for, the man she would die for.

"What happened?" She questioned with worry as she pulled back from his grasp and examined his face.

Sandor quickly told her of his battle with Gregor, and how Davos and Gendry and pulled him to safety. Tallulah could hardly believe the words, she had almost lost him, so quickly, so easily. In her head, she made a silent promise to herself, that once this was all over she and Sandor would leave this city, this kingdom and find peace, find safety, find a home.

Across the courtyard, Jon was hugging Sansa and Arya. Whispering would of encouragement and celebratkon of their victory. He could hardly believe how far these two young girls had come. Sansa was no longer the bratty teen he had once known, she no longer suck up her nose at him and so many others. She was a woman now, a brave and strong woman, a survivor. Arya as well, she had grown up so much. A part of him felt saddness for her though, she had once been so happy, curious and silly. Now, her face showed a certain level of seriousness to it, she had seen things, killed, and a part of her had changed with all of that, expect one. She was brave, just as she always had been. Jon hoped Eddard and Robb would be proud of him and them, happy to see them together, fighting and surviving through it all.

As he continued to catch up with the girls, telling them of what happened in the woods, his attention was pulled off into the distance. Behind the crowds, behind the cheers and celebrations, a face, a face he had once known and loved seemed to be smiling back at him.

Mid sentence, he quickly stopped speaking, his skin turning cold and the pale white colour of milk. "It can't be, you're dead," he whispered.

"Jon?" Sansa asked with concern and looked over to see what he was staring at.

Jon quickly looked back at Sansa, but then back into the crowd, but the face he had seen was no longer there. Shaking his head, figuring it must be a dream, a waking dream brought on through the stress and sudden relief of survival, he tried push the moment from his mind, but it was no use. All he could think about was her. Ygritte