Chapter Text
Sansa,
I’m currently sitting outside on a pile of dirt dealing with another fucking bloody nose. The air here is so damned dry. There’s nothing but rocks and more dirt. It actually makes me miss the humidity of the south. I miss the colors of the tropics. I may even bloody well miss you, Little Bird.
We’re going deeper into the mountains, so we won’t be able to call each other anymore. Though we were only able to talk for five minutes at a time, it was better than nothing. Now all I get to hear is the pissing and moaning of the men. All we have are these goddamned letters, but it’s better than nothing,. You can pretend we’re one of those couples from those books you like, the one where the fair maiden waits for her knight in shining armour. Thought I am not a knight, I would gladly pretend to be one for you.
The rest of the men and I are starting to get restless. There so much hurry up and waiting going on, I actually think some of them are getting stir crazy. They can’t wait to be sent back home, and for the first time I can say I’m with them. I used to love being out here, away from the rest of the world, but ever since that day, in a nasty little dive bar two years ago, I want to be home. I can still see your long hair, still reaching the bottom of your back in the high ponytail. The way your hips swished around the tables, and laughed with the customers. I was so jealous; I wanted to make you laugh like that. Now only sixty seven days, Little Bird, and then I’m done. For good. We’ll have our cottage in the mountains, with some goats, just like you want. It’ll be up north, secluded, but still close enough to town so you won’t be completely alone. We’ll have Lady and Stranger, and maybe they can have puppies. Arya and Gendry can come visit, as much as you like and as much as I can stand.
I still think about our weekend getaways - to go to the ocean, or into town. Your soft reassuring hand clasped with mine. I know I am not an easy man - I yell, and I curse, but you are everything I need. Sansa Stark, if there is one thing I can with total certainty is that I love you. And though I don’t believe in fate or gods or anything, you and I are one of the same. Soon enough, you and I will be walking through sun filled streets, and going for midnight swims, just like we used to.
I’m not much of a writer, but Sansa Stark, I miss you with every ounce of thought. The guys are starting to call me soft, because I’m turning into some of the younger ones, who stare at their girls’ photos at every free moment. I’m afraid I’ll forget how rich your smile is, or soft your hair feels in my calloused hands. I don’t want to forget the sound of your laugh, because I so desperately miss your laugh, Sansa. Sixty seven days, and that is too long. So much can happen in sixty seven days, so please don’t forget me either. I’m coming home, Sansa. I’m coming home.
Love,
Sandor
P.S. - the photo I brought with me, the one from the weekend we met each other, it’s getting old and worn, so if you would be so kind, Little Bird, to send me another one, perhaps the one from the trip North to visit your family, I would be eternally in your debt. I love you.