The days passed slowly, but at last, they glimpsed Gulltown one morning of overcast sky that threatened snow water. The strong and cold winds that came from the North, made the trip longer than normal, making the passage and the crew impatient. It was not good to stay long at sea, heading north. Everyone knew that before reaching Gulltown, they would start to see ice sheets, which would increase, on their way to WhiteHarbor.
Seeing the shoreline, the crew, relieved, prepared for the berthing and landing of the entourage, Lord Royce among them.
Sansa had kept her distance from the knight, and except for the lunches and dinners, which they shared with the captain in his cabin, they had barely seen each other.
Not a single day that had passed since the conversion they had maintained, Sansa had stopped thinking about it, and at no time, of those horrible days, had she managed to speak to Sandor. Sadly she assumed that he had overheard the entire conversation. She went to her cabin several times, but Sandor never opened the door for her. They had crossed, once, on deck, but he had moved away from her, without giving her time to approach. On one occasion, their eyes met, and the intensity of his gaze said it all.
She went up on deck to say goodbye to her cousin. Robin looked horrible. He had barely eaten the entire trip, and as she hugged him, she noticed how thin he was. His pale complexion and his lost gaze made him wonder if Lord Royce shouldn't worry about Eyrie's future any more considering that that future depended on someone so weak, than on the future of Winterfell.
She shook that thought from her mind. Lord Royce spoke to her for her sake, she was sure of it, as much as it pained her to admit it, and he did not deserve that she should think ill of him.
She kissed Robin on the cheek and walked him to the walkway that led him to the mainland. Sansa, realizing that it had started to rain, tightened the collar of her coat, trying to prevent the cold from getting into her bones.
Robin got into the carriage that was waiting for him on foot of the boat, giving him one last greeting. Sansa handed it back to her and then watched as Lord Royce closed the door and turned to look at her. His eyes locked on hers for a few seconds, then he gave her a small bow, got on his horse, and walked away.
Sansa sighed. She approached the gunwale, rested her hands on the sturdy wood, and remained there, watching as they departed and as the ship's crew, after loading new provisions, carried anchors. She did not want to think about anything, she just wanted to be carried away by the movement of the ship, fleeing for a few moments, from everything she would have to assume when she got home.
-You're going to be cold. You should go inside.
She turned around scared. Sandor was behind her. Covered with a thick layer of wool, his face was barely visible.
She, excited by his unexpected presence, immediately went to him,
- Sandor, I have to talk to you ... I'm so sorry for what you heard ...
Sandor raised her head and watched the city recede, as she heard Sansa speak. She saw the deep dark circles around his eyes, and realized with surprise and some concern, that he could no longer see the harsh expression he had seen in previous days ... Instead, there was ... resignation?
- I understand what that old man wanted to tell you ...- he said without looking at her -... He's right ...
Sansa unable to contain herself, she put her hand on his arm ... She longed so much to touch him ... and that he touched her.
Sandor lowered her head, took her white hand and squeezed it tight. Sansa closed her eyes. Sandor continued speaking in just a whisper.
- I would have liked you to have defended what we have ... but I do not think you are prepared for it ...- that phrase, which could have sounded like a reproach, was not at all ...- You have on your shoulders the weight of an entire kingdom and that's much more important than me ... much more ... and ... it's true, I'm much older than you, and I'm a murderer and always will be ... and I'm a monster ... I can't be anything to you ... .- He held the jaw tight- ... You must choose well or your sense of duty will end up killing you ... The Starks are all the same, you always do the right thing ... why would you be different?
- Sandor, no ... I want to tell you ...
- Let me finish ...- he said, lowering his head slightly -... I have thought a lot about us, on that night we spent together, the best night of my life ...- He took a deep breath- ... the future ... and I've made a decision.
Sansa shook her head from side to side vigorously, fearing the worst. She started to speak before he stopped her.
- I recognize that Lord Royce has made me doubt everything, but I can not stop feeling what I feel ... for you .- she raised her head, looking with determination at Sandor- .. and I know that you also feel something for me ... something intense and wonderful ...
Sandor nodded slowly. He looked into her deep blue eyes feeling that all the determination he had armed himself was collapsing at his feet.
He swallowed, crossed his fingers with Sansa's, approached her and bending down, kissed her gently on the lips. It was a soft kiss, but long ... as if he wanted to keep the imprint of his lips on hers, but without wanting to go further ... That would make everything harder.
When he separated, he said:
- I'll stay in Winterfell for a while. I will work as hard as I can to earn a living. When I feel better and can get a horse, I will possibly go to the lands of Gendry ...
- No ... No ...- she started to say.
He nodded, releasing her hand.
- Yes, little bird, yes ... I thought it might not be like that ... but no. This is correct. Always it was..
He walked away from her, leaving her alone, under the snow, feeling tears streaming down his cheeks.
To be continue...
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Wounds (Sansa & Sandor)
Fanfiction... what if the Hound had not died when consummating his revenge?" Sansa and Sandor
