Chapter Text
Sansa was cruising down the highway in the dark, eyes straining at the road signs, muttering to herself. “I know it’s around here” she said, scanning the horizon.
“Stupid Arya, I can’t believe she couldn’t stop to get the pumpkin this year! Going to her boyfriends… ugh.” She hit the steering wheel in frustration but she was too tired to give it much effort.
Every year they went to get this pumpkin, every year the siblings would get together to pick the Halloween pumpkin. It was a Stark family tradition, and not one she was about to give up on. She sighed to herself, seeing a highway sign reflected before her “Greyjoy farms “pumpkin hayrides!” was lit up and Sansa let out a sign of relief. Her other siblings may have bailed this year, but she’d be damned if she didn’t leave with a Greyjoy pumpkin. Why does this matter so much to me she thought to herself, turning off the highway, parking next to an old blue pick up, the only other car in front of the small gift shop. Oh, Mother, I wish you were here. Sansa prayed quietly as she entered the shop, bell tolling above her.
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The full moon shown on the beat up sign off the highway as Sandor surveyed the old pick up truck he’d just parked. Grumbling to himself he headed inside the old wooden gift shop, the chime of the bell above a welcome sign.
“Bron.” The tall man gruffed, seeing the store owner tinkering with one of those hokey animatronics they sell at the mall. This one loudly screamed as Sandor approached it, making him jump.
“Oy, It works!” Bron exclaimed, setting aside the screeching ghost with a look of glee so sugary it made Sandor sick.
“You love this sick shit.” Sandor grumbled flicking a paper bat that was repeatedly getting caught in his hair. “So what’s the issue?”
“Tractor’s broke.” Bron Answered, already toying with a new ghoulishly shaped object. “It’s halloween if you’ve noticed, and that farmer’s boy Theon is no help.”
“You called me down here, on Halloween, to fix your fucking tractor.” Sandor spat, turning to leave.
“I suppose tonight is the only night you can get away with that ugly mug of yours!” Bron called. Sandor grabbed one of the nearest commercial baubles he could reach and chucked it at the other man. It missed, Landing with an unceremonious crash behind the little counter.
“I should lay you out.” Sandor gruffed, but there was no anger in it.
“Then who would you go drinking with?” Bron laughed, walking around the counter to jovially pat the shoulder he could barely reach. “Anyway, he won’t pay more than the usual, but if you couldn’t get it running tonight, I might have to take the group that shows up through the woods myself. It’s a full moon, you know.”
“You finding your way through the woods, that’s a joke.” Sandor laughed and there was mirth to it. “I might as well take them since I’d spend all night looking for your dumbass-”
“Excuse me…” A meek voice called from behind the bickering pair. Sandor turned quickly, his senses usually were keen, but he hadn’t even noticed the small young woman enter.
She stood two heads smaller than him, with flowing auburn locks that framed a delicate face. She was bundled for the autumn air, hands tucked into an oversized hooded sweatshirt, and a scarf that stopped below her wind-blushed cheeks.
“Well hello, Miss, how can I help you?” Bron answered, still standing behind Sandor, but apparently remembering to do his job.
“I was uhmm” She was talking to bron, but her eyes were taking in the broad shoulders of the brooding man standing before her, “I was hoping the hayride wasn't sold out,” she nearly squeaked, “I would like to go out on the tour tonight, the one to the pumpkin patch”
“Sorry, girl.” It was Sandor who spoke, but he couldn’t say why. “Farmer says the tractor is toast. The repairman won’t be in until tomorrow.” Sandor finished, making no note that HE was in fact said repairman.
“Oh that’s too bad,” the young woman said, revealing mittened hands from her pockets. “You see, I love Halloween, and my family used to come to pick pumpkins every year when I was young. I was just hoping…”
The look on the girl’s face was a beautiful mixture of sadness and nostalgia. All I wanted to do was get drunk and watch a horror marathon Sandor thought to himself So don’t even think about it.
“I know a shortcut through these woods.” Sandor blurted out, what was it about this girl that had him acting like a schoolboy? “To the pumpkin patch, That is. If you don’t mind spending Halloween with an old dog.” he recovered, laughing.
Sansa’s eyes widened in surprise, taking in the looming man before her. He was older than her, probably by 10 years. He had long black hair, partially covering a scar across his eye and cheek, but that wasn’t what struck her, it was the sheer size of the man. This is how you get murdered on Halloween She thought to herself, replaying images of gorey teens running from a giant chainsawed man. Sansa hated those movies. But he’s… hot She found herself thinking, a blush deepening the red on her cheeks.
“An old dog, that’s not a very suitable thing to call someone.” The girl laughed. “I’m Sansa” She said offering a mittened hand, “and you are?”
“Sandor.” He answered by taking her small hand into his large one, Sansa noticed how warm it was. Bron, shaking his head, went back to his tinkering.
“Why go out of your way to help one tourist looking for a pumpkin, Sandor?” Sansa asked. She meant it to sound coy, but a slight tremble in her voice gave away some nerves. I mean she didn’t KNOW this man, and she was on a road trip, alone, on her way home from college for the fall holidays. “Going Missing” wasn’t on her holiday plans.
“I have to head up there anyway,” Sandor began, feeling madder with each word. “Need to talk to farmer Greyjoy about a transportation problem”
“Okay.” Sansa said, quietly enough she surprised herself. She hadn’t felt this red faced since the first time she met her ex Harry. And that was highschool! She was a grown woman and should act as such. Sandor stretched out a hand, motioning Sansa to the door.
The air was crisp as they stepped back out to where the highway lights glittered before a wall of trees blocked them. Sansa breathed in, strengthening herself against the air, against the fact she’d agreed to walk with a man she’d never met through strange woods.
Their walk began silently, Sandors tall shape looming next to her, his hands in pockets, looking ahead stoically. She noticed the curve of his nose and prominent jaw and began her breathing again. “What do you do for a living?” Sansa asked, breaking the silence.
“Everything.” Sandor replied, snorting lightly. “Fix bikes mostly, Fix most things that need fixin’.”
“Except for tractors?” she mused
“Except for fucking tractors.” He answered. She caught me.
The way ahead of them was lit with glowing bulbs hanging off the trees, marking where the hayride would usually take them. Sansa was busy admiring them as her boot caught on a root and she tumbled forward. Sandor caught her hand and arm, quickly righting her. As the world began to stop spinning Sansa noticed their nearness. Sandor held her mitten in his hand, his other arm steadying her.
“Careful, lass.” He said, his breath coming out in puffs. She felt it, warm against her face. She pulled back slowly but didn’t let go of his hand right away.
“Right, sorry!” She squeaked, the crisp air was nipping at her and she missed his warmth.
“I’m a student” she said, and when he looked confused she continued “That’s what I do for a living, Graduate school, Northern university.” They were walking again but neither of them had let go of the other’s hand. The forest around them sung with birds and bugs and the lights above cast on orange glow upon them as they walked.
“A student” Sandor said more to himself than anything, what was he doing with a bloody college student, holding hands like a teen boy…”What do you study?”
“Mythology” Sansa answered dreamily, “I love the stories of ancient gods and their love affairs.” Sansa laughed at her own honesty. “I find those stories much more interesting than real life.”
“Studying stories, huh? Aren’t there stories about going into the woods alone” Sandor asked, they were gaining on the pumpkin patch, and each of them instinctively stopped. They were alone, facing each other in front of the pumpkins, the clear night sky glowing above them.
“I’m not alone.” Sansa squeezed his hand, then feeling embarrassed added, “Do you know about the fates?” Sansa asked. Sandor shook his head, he wasn’t much for reading in school, he always preferred things he could do with his hands. “They control the strings of destiny that each person’s life follows. I know it’s silly, thinking some moments are fated to happen, but sometimes I think, it can be a comforting thought, too.”
“I don’t think it’s silly.” Sandor replied, “Maybe somethings are meant to happen.”
“Maybe,” Sansa said, looking up towards the rows of pumpkins ahead of them.
“Sansa, look” Sandor pointed and she followed his eyes. Above them in the night was a gorgeous shooting star, it lit the sky above them in a flash, and Sansa gasped at the beauty of it.
Last time Sansa stood here, it was with her family, holding her father’s hand, and that thought made her heart ache, but here under the moon with this stranger, she thought perhaps maybe the fates weren’t cruel all the time.
“Make a wish.” Sansa whispered.
“Will you get a beer with me?” Sandor blurted out, feeling awkward and less-than romantic.
“Wish granted.” Sansa laughed, tapping a slim finger to the tip of his nose. Maybe not cruel all the time, indeed.