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Sansa
She stood in the courtyard waiting. The ravens arrived a week ago in Winterfell and scouts have been on high alert ever since. Finally, word came that the party from Dragonstone landed in White Harbour and they were making their way to Winterfell. Sansa stood in a receiving line alongside Arya and Bran, with the household gathered behind them. From what she could interpret from Jon's raven, the main party will arrive and the armies made up of the Unsullied and the Dothraki will arrive later after merging at the crossroads. Everyone agreed that was a good plan that would not overwhelm the residents of the North. Yesterday and today preparations were made for a modest meal and a dual celebration to both welcome their visitors and usher in the start of winter. The ”Dawn of Winter” festivities was a way to ease the fear of the long night that was ahead. Due to food rationing, there were no great feasts. Music, dancing, and even small gift exchanges were encouraged though. Sansa and Arya were hoping to have the occasion of Jon's arrival with Daenerys coincide. For once everything fell into place.
Soon the figures came into view as the party came through the gates. Sansa could feel Arya's excitement at the prospect of seeing Jon after so many years. She also knew Sam was anxious to see him also. It was going to be hard for them to stay stoic, but they knew they had to act properly for at least a little bit. Sansa saw Jon and then she saw the one they called Daenerys, she was breathtakingly beautiful. Sansa sucked in her breath slightly when she noticed that Tyrion Lannister rode behind Daenerys. She knew that he had aligned himself with her and was even named Hand of the Queen but it was still a shock to see him. She recognized Davos, there were two others that she did not recognize. It looked like a man and woman, but they were covered in winter wraps. The last rider was in heavy winter wraps from head to toe and he loomed over the couple ahead of him. The party stopped and prepared to dismount. A gloved hand came up and started to unwind the long scarf that covered the mystery rider. Could it be the wildling? Sansa watched, curious as the wraps fell away. Seconds later she stood frozen in place, her heart in her throat. It was The Hound! The Hound? Her head spun for a moment and it was hard to breathe. Maybe she was mistaken? His face was unmistakable though and when Arya stiffened next to her, she knew. Keep your head, Sansa - she tempered her outward reaction, but underneath it all, her heart was beating wildly.
Sandor
After the arrival and brief reception in the courtyard, the traveling party was shown to their rooms to rest and ready themselves for a small celebration. Dawn of Winter or some such nonsense. Sandor didn’t care what it was for, he looked forward to talking to Arya and watching for Sansa. He was shocked to see her, why didn’t that big bitch tell him? Never mind that she probably had no idea Sandor even knew Sansa...but still. Jon too, whenever he referred to “his sister”, Sandor assumed it was only Arya he talked about. He nearly fell off his damn horse when he saw her. There was a plate of bread and cheese in his chamber and he devoured it. Soon water to fill a tub arrived and Sandor was more than happy to wash the road filth off of him. He paid extra attention to scrubbing himself clean. He wasn’t sure why, Sansa probably didn’t even remember him, though it would be nice for the little wolf not to comment on his stench for once. After his bath, he emptied his packs on his bed. He had several new articles when he left Dragonstone and he hoped something remained clean during his journey. Sure enough, there was a clean dress tunic and a small bundle of unworn smallclothes in a ball at the bottom of the pile. He wet a stiff brush and whisked the dirt off of his cleanest trousers. This was the cleanest he was going to get. After dressing, he combed his hair and beard until it looked somewhat tamed. He even dipped a small piece of linen into some mint water and rubbed his teeth. He sighed and looked in the mirror, this is the best he was going to be. Hopefully, it was enough. Enough? Enough for what? He shook his head, he did not know.
It was time to go to the great hall. As he was leaving his room, he met Tyrion in the hallway. The dwarf let out a low whistle. Sandor growled a bit, “fuck off.”
Tyrion held up a hand, “wait Clegane.” Sandor stopped and gave him his attention. “You and I both experienced many the same things in King’s Landing. I know you were protecting her as well as I was. I was doing it for my family, your reasons were much more noble.”
Sandor narrowed his eyes at the man, “whatever are you talking about dwarf?”
“I kept a bargaining chip from harm, you protected someone you cared for.” Before Sandor could spit out a denial, Tyrion was walking away from him down the hall.
Buggering hell.
Sandor was grateful that he was at the table just below the dais. He didn’t want to hear Tyrion anymore. He concentrated on the meal before him, it was a treat to eat freshly prepared food. Soon the empty plates were cleared and the tables were pushed away. After welcoming remarks from Sansa, the music began and people started to pair off to dance. Sandor stood off to the side, drinking a cup of wine. He knew how to dance, many years ago Robert insisted that the whole court was required to take instruction. Much to Sandor’s chagrin that included the Kingsguard and the Prince’s sworn shield. He was not the best, but he knew enough not to make a fool out of himself. Robert was smart enough to partner the men at that time with Chataya’s girls, and they rewarded the ones that didn’t step on their slippered feet. Knowing how to dance didn’t mean he wanted to though, he was going to leave the moment he finished his wine and he hoped it would be unnoticed.
Sansa
Sansa could not catch Sandor's eye all through dinner. She still was not able to speak with him and she was growing frustrated. When the music started she lost sight of him in the swirl of dancers. She sighed inwardly and decided that tonight would not be the night. She was able to find a gift for him, but that could wait until another day. She patted her pocket where the hastily tied up bundle sat. Soon she felt a hand on her arm and she jumped a bit. She turned to find Tyrion smiling up at her, “my lady, may I have this dance?” She smiled and thought this would be the perfect way to show new beginnings, even with winter looming. She took his hand and they joined the dancers in the middle of the floor. As they danced, she could not help but glance around periodically to look for the tallest man in the room. “Are you trying to find a new partner already Sansa?” Tyrion joked.
“Oh no, my Lord,” she lied, “I was just glancing around at our guests make sure everyone was having a good time.”
Suddenly Tyrion spun her twice steering her towards the edge of the crowd. Sansa almost lost her balance, but she soon regained her composure when she felt strong hands on her shoulders. She glanced up to see the shocked face of Sandor Clegane. “Why of course you can cut in Clegane, take good care of her!” With that, Tyrion let go of her hand and she was in Sandor's arms.
Sandor
He had finished his wine and was slowly edging along the side of the dance area when Tyrion nearly crashed into him with his partner. Within seconds Tyrion was walking away and Sandor realized he was holding Sansa and staring at her like a fool. She didn't make an effort to pull away or make an excuse; on the contrary, she took his hand and put her other hand upon his shoulder and pulled him toward the other dancing couples. He had no choice to dance although he was in a bit of a state of shock that she was choosing to dance with him. The very the thought was unheard of. He swallowed and tried not to grip her waist too tightly as he attempted to move his feet in conjunction with hers.
“I was hoping to see you, I wanted to talk to you,” she said smiling.
“You wanted to see me - that's a change,” he let out a short laugh and shook his head slightly.
The grip on his shoulder tightened a fraction and he looked at her then. She was smiling at him - not a smug , condescending or fake smile. This was a smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle. Sandor was hard pressed to remember the last person that looked at him that way.
She took 1/2 step closer to him and his hand had to move from her waist to the small of her back, “I thought you were dead.”
“As I thought the same of you.” They looked at each other at that moment, her smile somewhat sad.
“I’m glad you are not,” they both said at the same time.
They laughed softly together for a moment and Sandor realized they were not really dancing, just holding each and moving their feet side to side, “perhaps you would like to be with a better dancer.”
“There is no other place I would like to be right now,” she squeezed his hand slightly. At that, he turned her gently and pulled her in a bit closer when she returned to him.
“I don’t frighten you, little bird?”
“I have never felt safer.” They found themselves close to the wall again and she gestured for him to sit on a bench. Once he did, she sat next to him. “During this celebration, many people exchange small gifts,” she began, “since there was so little time since you have returned, this will have to do.” She pulled the parcel out of her gown pocket and held it in front of her. Sandor stared at it dumbfounded. “You're supposed to take it and open it,” she laughed.
When he reached for it, his hand touched hers and he could have sworn his arm tingled all the way up to his shoulder. He tore the paper away to reveal a direwolf cloak clasp. “A wolf for a dog. Seems like a good trade.” He felt the corners of his mouth form a slight smile. “I regret to inform you though, I do not have a cloak to use this on.”
She gestured to him to lean closer so she could say something privately. As he neared her, she turned her head and kissed his cheek just before whispering, “we will have to remedy that now, won't we my Lord?” At that moment he knew who he was fighting for until the end of his days.