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“She is my wife.”
The first time Sandor said that Velika’s heart started to beat so loud she couldn’t hear the end of the sentence. Of course, she understood why he said it. It was easier to explain why a young woman like herself is traveling with him, sleeping in the same room as him. It’s certainly easier to explain than the truth, that she was a prostitute, fleeing King’s Landing with a former Kingsguard soldier. But each time he said it, it made her heart beat faster, and her cheeks red, and each time she wished he would mean it. But she knew it was a stupid wish. Whores didn’t get married. Best case scenario a rich client liked them enough to move them to a nice house and make them their lovers. And she certainly wasn’t heading towards that path. Not that she was complaining. It was nice, traveling with Sandor. They rode all day long, or walked if Stranger was too tired. And they talked, about the places they were riding through, or the animals they have seen, or really about anything. Sandor often got grumpy and silent, then she would hum to herself, or tell him a story. Sometimes they were both silent, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. At night they found an inn in some village if they could. If no settlement was close, Sandor hunted for food and they slept by a fire. They avoided cities and the main roads. Sandor’s scarred face was too recognizable. They heard the rumors that Joffrey had won, with the help of the Tyrells. If they thought Sandor was still alive and betrayed the king by leaving his side, someone who recognized him might sell him out for a few coins. And traitors aren’t treated kindly. So they headed north, to the lands under Stark influence. There he was less likely to be recognized, and even if he was, less likely to be killed. So they traveled together, kept their heads low, and avoided conflict. And despite all of this fear and uncertainty, Velika was happy. She loved waking by Sandor’s side, even if they slept on the bumpy ground. She loved hearing those rare laughs, and how he always tended to Stranger before thinking about himself. She loved it when they reached a village, and got into a real bed. She loved making love to him. She loved Sandor. Life was as good as it could be. Of course, something had to go wrong. She was washing herself in a creek when it occurred to her that her moonblood was late. She counted the days that had passed since her last bled, and she realized that it’s been over two months. They had been on the road for three. Could it be? Could she be with child? Velika cursed herself. At the brothel, they took moon tea and herbs regularly to prevent this. And during all of what happened since they escaped she forgot about it. She panicked. She couldn’t be pregnant. Not now, when they were in hiding, with no place to raise a child. And would Sandor even want it? Does she want it? She had seen many girls, who had children outside of marriage. Many of them turned to prostitution for this reason. And if they were already prostitutes, even worse. A girl can barely make a living for herself, definitely not for two mouths. And there was her mother, too. How many times did she warn her against this exact thing? What would Sandor do if he found out? Would he leave her? It was nice and good while it was only the two of them. She was his lover, his traveling companion, and maybe friend. But a baby would change everything. The responsibility of taking care of a child, a child of a whore wasn’t a thing many men would want. Velika wanted to believe that Sandor was different. She wanted to believe they could have a family. But she didn’t want to risk what they had now, didn’t want to risk being left alone. So when they reached the next village she visited the local healer.
“You are with child.”
Velika let out a sight.
“Do you have moon tea?”
The healer started shuffling with different pouches.
“Are you sure about it? I heard you are traveling with your husband.”
“You can’t tell him.”
“Calm down, girl, it’s none of my business. Take this before you go to bed. There will be some bleeding and pain, it might last a few hours. This will be twelve Copper Pennies.”
“Twelve?! I only have seven.”
“Then I can’t give it to you.”
Said the healer dismissively, putting away the vial.
Velika grabbed his arm.
“Please.” She begged. “I really need this.”
“So does every other girl who slept around and didn’t want to deal with the consequences. Give me the money, or get out.”
Velika left the house, defeated. She could ask Sandor for money, but what would she say what was it for? She could also steal it from his purse, but he would notice. And that was his money, and it didn’t feel right to use him like that. It was his money, after all, he sold his armor to a blacksmith, for a ridiculously cheap price. He kept the sword. They have been using that money ever since then, for food and shelter, but there wasn’t much left. She knew about a few other methods that would result in losing the child, but none of them were as safe as moon tea. She has seen one of the girls nearly bleed out at the brothel after trying to induce a miscarriage. She was too afraid of that fate to try anything. That night she laid in bed next to Sandor and tried to cry quietly, so she wouldn’t wake him. She felt afraid, reedless, and terribly alone. That’s when she felt a hesitant hand on her back.
“Little dove?”
He started calling her by that nickname after they found an injured dove. Sandor wanted to cook it for dinner, but she insisted on nursing it back to health, even if that meant going hungry.
“Are you alright?”
“It’s nothing, go back to sleep.”
Sandor sat up, his voice growing concerned.
“Why are you crying?”
He brushed his hand against her tear-stained face. The gentle movement just made Velika cry even harder.
“Womanly things. You can’t help. Just, hug me?”
Sandor cradled her in his arms, pulling her close. Velika let out a sigh and buried her face in his chest. They fell asleep like that. In the morning Sandor didn’t prod, and Velika was grateful for it. She thought about telling him. She didn’t know what she wanted, money for moon tea, or a promise that he would stay if she kept it. The next day he was angry because Stranger got a limp, so she postponed it. Then the next day wasn’t good for as well, and the day after that. She always found a reason why it wasn’t a good time to tell. Days morphed into weeks. She noticed how her body changed. Her breast got rounder and more sore. She couldn’t stand the foods she used to like. Her stomach started growing. Thank the Mother, she rarely had morning sickness, or surely Sandor would have grown suspicious. This way she could pass it off as a stomach bug. Velika started dreaming about the child. Sometimes it was a girl, with Sandor’s brown locks and her green eyes. Other times it was a chubby little boy, with big brown eyes. Sometimes Sandor was there, too, in her dreams, laughing and playing with their child. Other times she was alone with it. But no matter what, when she woke up she felt happy. She started thinking about what life would be like with a child. Maybe she could make it, even if Sandor decided to leave them. Every town had a brothel, she could work. True, she thought she had left that kind of life behind, but for her child, she would do it again. And now she understood why her mother decided to keep her. How it felt to have a life growing inside of you from a man you loved. It was the hardest and the best thing that ever happened to her.
They stayed at an inn for a few days. The weather was horrible, rain pouring for days and end and thunder lighting the sky at night. They decided to stay there until the worst of it passed. Velika was helping the owner's wife, a chubby woman called Terca, in the kitchen, in return for free meals. She was really talkative, sharing news and rumors about people Velika never heard of. She let her carry the conversation, rarely chiming in. She didn't even notice that she started rubbing her belly, an unconscious movement. But Terca noticed it.
"I see the Mother has blessed you and your husband."
Velika paled.
"He doesn't know. Please don't tell him."
Terca stopped chopping. She asked Velika in a serious tone.
"Does your husband hurt you? Do you need help, getting
away from him? We have helped girls in the past."
"No, no. You are very kind, but Sandor has always been
good to me. I just haven't found the right time to tell him about the child."
"Are you sure? He looks like a hard man."
"He might be a bit rude to others, and his looks are scary at first glance, but he is a good man, and he cares for me."
Terca's expression softened.
"You love him."
Velika blushed.
"I do."
"Then may the Mother and the Maiden bless the three of you."
She never admitted her love for Sandor out loud before. She was still thinking about that when Sandor returned and pulled her away, telling her that he had something important to say.
"I found a Septon who would marry us if you wanted to."
Velika stared at him in utter and complete shock. Did he just say what she thought he said?
"You... want me to marry you? '
Sandor nodded, and maybe she was imagining it, but he was blushing like a maiden.
" But why? "
Did he somehow find out about the child? Was this the only reason he asked her? Sandor fiddled with his hands, looking at anything but her.
"You know that I don't care for the gods and vows and such things, little dove. But when I call you my wife, it feels right. I want that to be true when I say it."
Velika just stared at him. Then she blurted it out, without thinking :
"I'm pregnant."
Sandor froze. He didn't move, he didn't speak, he didn't even blink. Velika started to nervously ramble.
"I'm sure it's yours, because I'm only three months along, and we have been on the road for four. You have to believe me. Sandor? Say something, anything, please?”
He reached out, touching her belly with the tip of his fingers, then quickly snatching back his hand like he was burnt.
"How long have you known?"
"A month or so."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"I don't know. Guess I was afraid, and it was never the right time for it. First I just wanted to drink moon tea and forget about it. But then I didn't have the money for it, and I had time to think, and now I think I want to have this child, even if you leave me because of it."
Sandor's expression switched from shocked to surprised.
"Leave you? Why the fuck would I leave you? I just asked you to marry me. "
" Yes, but...the child! It's a huge responsibility! And... "
"Little dove, it would be an honor to raise your child, our child. Can't promise I'll be a good father, mine certainly wasn't, but I'll try my damn hardest. We can stay in this village, it's as good as any. Get a house where we can raise the baby. I'll find a job. We are fare enough North that I won't be recognized. "
A weight she wasn't even aware of carrying left her body at once. Sandor was staying.
"My question still stands, Velika. Do you want to marry me?"
"Of course I want to, you big foolish man."
His kiss was so, so gentle and she noticed he didn't dare to hug her too tight. So she snuggled closer, and let her worries melt away.
Velika was wearing a ragged cloak, and she had no family or friends there to give her away. But it was Sandor's cloak on her shoulders, and he was holding her hand, and that was all that mattered. So when she spoke the words of the vow, she meant every one of them.
“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”