Chapter 10

Riverrun – The Kennels: Sansa

For two days, Sansa had been trapped inside the walls of Riverrun, making decisions about wedding dresses and feasts and learning the vows she would recite tomorrow to Tywin. She hadn't seen him since he'd left Hoster's solar, and she had no chance to tell him just how impressed she'd been.

She'd given him only the barest information, and the man had somehow convinced three regions to back him for the Iron Throne. He was everything she'd thought Tywin Lannister to be, watching his brilliant brain and sharp tongue cut everyone off at the knees.

After the meeting, Catelyn had been distant to her again, and Sansa had wondered what she'd done. It was only when Sansa had her final fitting for her wedding gown, a resplendent golden creation that she adored, that her sister had finally let loose on her.

"He's going to make you Queen."

"Hmm?" Sansa said.

She was smoothing out the skirts, running her hands over the luxurious fabric. Had she ever worn something so incredible in her life? Tywin would love the colours, with the gold and silver threads making her feel like the highborn woman she was pretending to be.

"You will be the Queen. I thought your children wouldn't…" Sansa turned and saw Cat's pursed lips. Sansa had tried her best to walk the fine line between sisterly affection and understanding, but she was annoyed.

"You thought my children would inherit nothing. And now, if our plan works, they will get the Iron Throne."

Cat nodded.

Sansa cocked her head. "Is that what you want? To be Queen? I did not think you that ambitious, sister."

In truth, Sansa thought that Cat had loved Ned Stark and had been devastated when he'd arrived home with his 'bastard' thus destroying their young marriage. Nothing in Sansa's research or history had indicated that Cat had designs on the Iron Throne. Which just went to show that the history books didn't know everything if this was true.

Cat sighed and picked at a non-existent thread.

"It's not just that. I see the way he looks at you, Sansa. The man is half in love with you already."

Understanding dawned, and Sansa turned fully, to face Catelyn.

"Ned defended you, Cat, in father's study. He stood up to Robert when the man was his oafish self. And can you imagine having to marry a man like Lord Baratheon? With at least one confirmed bastard and potentially more?" Sansa shuddered.

Cat looked contemplative. "No." She paused and then pulled out a piece of parchment, colouring slightly. "Lord Stark gave me this."

She thrust the note towards Sansa, who took it eagerly. On it was a list of buildings at Winterfell, and beside the glass gardens, the man had written down which plants and flowers from the Riverlands might do well there.

"Oh, this man," Sansa sighed, sinking into a chair. "What a dear, sweet man."

Cat frowned. "It's about plants, Sansa."

Sansa shook her head. "No, silly, he's trying to woo you. I told him how much you love the godswood, and he mentioned the glass gardens at Winterfell. He's quite proud of them and was eager that you might bring something from here with you North, to make you less homesick."

Sansa's eyes brightened. "Oh! Can you imagine if you planted something upon your arrival, and each year it bloomed! Imagine the story you could tell your children that their father encouraged this of you. It's so romantic and thoughtful!"

Cat's eyes warmed. "I thought it was an order. Perhaps I shall go and find Lord Stark and see if he was serious about this."

"I'll come if you let me change. I need to get out of these rooms."

It took an hour, but finally, Sansa was in a day gown that was easier to walk in, although she desperately missed her Uggs, Lululemon's and her hoodies.

The gowns had been fabulous the first few days, but now they just felt cumbersome. She wondered if she did become Queen, how quickly she might introduce women wearing breeches. Then she rolled her eyes to herself, swearing she heard Tywin's voice in her head. You are a Lannister – we do not act like fools!

She was coming to truly like Tywin, but the man had to learn to loosen up lest he give himself a heart attack. She'd never met anyone quite so rigid as him. And that thought sent Sansa's brain on a tangent about ancient medicine and preventable death. There was just so much that was different about living back here, not the least of which was behaving like a proper lady at all times.

Sansa sighed as they wandered towards the Great Hall, where the men could often be found.

When Catelyn spotted Ned talking with some of his men, she bid Sansa farewell, leaving her with some free time.

Eager for air, for space, and not wanting anything to do with Robert Baratheon who was eyeing her up, Sansa glanced at her guards and then walked towards the kennels. Her father's hound had just had another litter of pups, and Sansa adored watching them nurse.

As Sansa entered the kennel, she heard him before she saw him- a large, looming figure that was scrunched down and murmuring in his raspy voice to the bitch that had just whelped her latest litter. The dogs here were a cross between a modern-day Irish Wolfhound and a Great Dane as far as Sansa could tell, meant to hunt and help in the Riverlands. There were other dogs, those that retrieved and swam, but these were her father's prized line.

Sansa knew who he was immediately, his scarred face making it impossible to mistake him. Even now, at just eighteen years old, he towered over her.

For now, Sansa stood, silent and still, watching as Sandor Clegane gently reached out and petted the huge grey head of the dog, praising her for a job well done. Even though she knew this person before her would become one of the deadliest and most fearsome fighters in the realm, Sansa didn't feel afraid of him. Instead, all she saw was a horribly abused teenager, that would show loyalty to anyone who treated him with respect and kindness. She was determined to be that person – here was a real difference she could make in this timeline.

As she stepped forward, there was a tug on her arm, as if to stop her. Her father's man shook his head, sneering at the scarred young man.

"That's the Hound, My Lady. Best stay away."

So he already had that hideous moniker. Was it because he'd already proven his loyalty, or because of his father's previous occupation?

Sansa repressed a shudder and sneered at her guard.

"Do not touch me again without my permission," she said, using her haughtiest voice possible. The man dropped his hand immediately and stepped back, effectively giving her, and Sandor privacy.

She knew that Sandor would not hurt her. Sansa walked further into the kennels and towards the whelping run where Sandor was.

He'd heard the exchange, of course, his grey eyes looking at her warily. He was coiled now, a spring ready to attack. He had dark, lanky hair that hung long over one side of his face, and Sansa thought he somewhat reminded her of a dog that had been beaten, one that was at a shelter that never got adopted.

She needed to speak with Tywin about the Clegane brothers and Gregor in particular. He was a loathsome man, and not one she wanted to be around for any reason. She did not care if Tywin saw him as a weapon – he was a violent and vicarious beast of a man that should have been dealt with long ago.

Sansa walked closer to Sandor, who had snatched his hand back from the bitch, even though she whined as if she missed the attention.

"I wasn't hurting them," he said, his voice defensive.

"I know," she said softly, and then crouched down, a fair distance from him, but enough so that they could gaze upon the pups together. "She trusts you, and she doesn't trust easily."

He seemed to puff up a bit at that compliment, and her heart ached for him. He had no one.

"She's a good mother; plenty of milk," Sandor said, both of them looking at the ten little pups that were suckling at their mother.

"She is."

They were quiet for a time, and then Sansa giggled when of the pups, clearly having gorged itself on milk, rolled over and exposed its fat little tummy, a tiny moan escaping his lips as his tongue lolled out.

"I love it before they have their eyes open. Once they can see and walk, they are little terrors with their teeth. But now, they are just sweet."

Sandor grunted, and she felt his eyes on her. He had to be wondering why she wasn't recoiling in horror at his face.

In truth, her heart ached at his scar. It still looked as if it pained him, and she wondered if there were anything that might be done to help ease the tight, taut stretch of skin.

She reached out and touched the pup that was belly up, gently rolling him back to his front. One day he'd be a fierce hunter, able to help take down a deer or a man. But right now, he was helpless and adorable. She scooped him up and nuzzled him, before placing him back in the box.

"My father was kennel master for Lord Tytos," Sandor offered gruffly after another stretch of silence.

"Was he?"

She knew this, of course; she knew almost as much about Sandor Clegane as she did Tywin Lannister, but she thought it a good sign that he was offering her this information.

"He saved Lord Tytos from a lion, and lost his leg," Sandor said, a hint of pride in his voice for what his father had done to protect his liege lord.

"That seems quite brave."

Sandor snorted and shook his head. Sansa knew that Sandor had never forgiven his father for lying about who had hurt him; it had broken something in him, Sansa figured. It didn't matter what year it was – fathers were supposed to protect their sons.

"Not that brave. My mom and sister both died, while my brother, Gregor, was free to do what he wished. My father died in a hunting accident when he was with my brother."

The implication was clear, and Sansa's heart broke for this person before her.

"Is that how you came to serve Lord Tywin?"

Sandor nodded, and looked away, back to the dog and the puppies. "In a way."

They were quiet for a time when Sandor spoke again. "Is it true that you're marrying him? The Great Lion?"

Sansa nodded. "I am."

"And you're coming to the Rock?"

"I am. Will you be there?"

"Yes."

Sandor gave her a tentative smile, which she was just returning when there was a commotion at the entrance to the kennel. Sansa heard Tywin's voice, and the anger was pronounced. She wondered briefly what might have angered him to such an extent, when he stormed inside, his eyes flashing between her and Sandor, that was now almost cowering in fear.

Sansa stood, as Tywin stalked towards Sandor, his green eyes flashing.

"You dare!" he seethed, and Sansa wondered what in seven hells Tywin's problem was. They were just looking at the dog and her puppies and talking. Rage made Tywin even stronger and he had Sandor hauled to his feet, his hands clutching his tunic, when Sansa's voice rang out.

"My Lord, a word!" she snarled at him. She could not believe how Tywin was acting! It was mortifying.

Stunned, Tywin turned to face her, still clutching at Sandor.

She was beyond angry – Sansa had never felt such rage in her life. Sandor had done nothing wrong, and now Tywin was going to beat him? For what? Daring to speak to her when she had initiated the conversation?

"My Lady," Tywin hissed, eyes flashing dangerously.

"In private," she said, watching as Tywin debated whether or not to listen to her.

Finally, he released Sandor, and he scrambled away, shooting a fearful look at both her and Tywin. She didn't even meet his gaze, afraid she might slap her soon-to-be husband for the tentative trust that he had so rudely broken. When the kennel was clear, she stalked up to him.

"What was that?" she spat out. She drilled a finger into his chest, too furious to worry that she was baiting the lion.

Tywin's eyes widened before they narrowed on her.

"Pardon me?"

"What. Was. That?" She enunciated each word clearly, in case he was missing the fact that she was pissed. Beyond pissed, really. She felt like steam might be coming out of her ears she was so mad.

"He is not worthy of you, Sansa. A nobody – the second son of a kennel master. He shouldn't even be talking to you. You are to be the next Lady of Casterly Rock and you were squatting with him in the kennels."

She seethed. Sansa knew she didn't understand the class system here - not the reality of it. Tywin's anger was about Sandor's 'worth.' It was appalling for someone like her, from the time in which she came.

"Do you think me an idiot? Did you not stop to think that perhaps I knew exactly who and what Sandor Clegane is? I hate that you think some people are worth more than others. He will never harm me Tywin. In fact, if you weren't such an overprotective ass, I might have just gotten him to trust me."

Tywin snorted and shook his head.

"He's a brute, Sansa. A stupid but strong idiot from a nothing House that is good for little more than killing and ravaging."

She tensed. "You're the idiot."

His green eyes narrowed. "Careful, Sansa."

She shook her head.

"No, I'll not be 'careful, Sansa.' Do you even know what happened to him? Who did that to him? Do you have any idea the monster that is Gregor Clegane? Even now? The horror he will reign down in your name? And Sandor is as loyal as they come. You have to stop thinking that anyone who isn't a Lannister is somehow not as good as you are!"

Tywin's gaze locked on hers and she could tell that despite his anger at her for speaking to him in such a manner, the draw of information was almost great enough to temper his rage.

"I understand that cutting off heads is very satisfying Tywin, but it is not how to get people to work together. A man like Gregor Clegane is a monster. He killed his mother, his sister, his father. He brutalized his brother. He should be dead. He's not right in the head and almost impossible to control."

Tywin frowned a look of concern crossing over his features. "I didn't know…"

"Because you don't want to know. You are many things, My Lord, but observant about people that are closest to you is not one of them."

Again, the nostrils flared, and Sansa knew he was upset with her.

"I'm sorry I do not have your knowledge; I was not graced with being from the future like you are. Pray, tell me what else I do not know."

His sarcasm was biting but she refused to bow to him. He had to know she was an asset and that she wasn't a moron! He just made her so angry with his high and mighty ways.

"What about your daughter and how she'll destroy your house," Sansa blurted out and then gasped and covered her mouth.

She had NOT meant to say that.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, she thought. This was bad. Very, very bad.

Now Tywin leaned in, ever closer to her. His eyes promised that he would not let this go.

"Tell me."

His voice was harsh and cold and any affection that she had felt from him, seemed to have all but evaporated. In its place stood a man that had destroyed two houses that dared to defy House Lannister. She was gazing into the Great Lion's maw and knew she would be chewed up and spat out if she didn't stand her ground.

Whether he liked it or not, Tywin Lannister needed her. She knew things – she could help him. And he needed to understand, here and now, that she wasn't some magic eight ball he could just shake and demand answers from whenever he felt like it. She would not cower before him, nor would she back down.

She shook her head.

"No. Not yet."

Sansa wondered how many people told the Great Lion no and lived to tell the tale.

His green eyes glittered, hard and unyielding and Sansa knew she was in real danger here – not physical, but the man before her was so remote, so distant, she felt a chill skirt down her spine.

"I will not have lies and secrets between us, Sansa. You know what is at stake. We are not in your time but mine. Here, you all but belong to me whether you like it or not."

Her chin tilted in defiance for a single moment, before she turned from him, her mind racing.

How had things gone so wrong?

She knew that Tywin had given her a high degree of trust, but to tell him, right now that Cersei would bring his entire house down?

No. It was NOT the time. Not yet. Not here. Not now and not like this.

If he didn't believe her, she might destroy her relationship with him before it even had a chance to start.

There was no winning in revealing what she knew about Cersei.

It wasn't the right time.

Swallowing hard, she turned back to face Tywin. She prayed that he saw the truth in her eyes, heard it in her voice – that he would trust her as he had when they'd been about to go into Hoster Tully's solar.

"I know you want to know everything that I know. I understand what knowledge means to you. And I know, how much trust you've already placed in me, Tywin. I know," she emphasized, all but pleading with him.

She stepped closer to him, closing the distance between them and reached out and took his hands in his. He resisted at first, and then squeezed his hands, not letting him go. There was so much power in these hands, so much pain that could be inflicted, but also – tenderness.

She'd seen it. It was there, in him.

Tywin was a man with a great capacity for cruelty, and yet, and equal one, Sansa had always believed, for love. She was betting everything on that now. This wasn't a game, not a class where it was an academic debate.

She was staring into the eyes of the Great Lion himself, her very future hanging in the balance.

"I need you to trust me on this. Now is not the right time. I know that Cersei is at the Rock which means she can do very little harm. And we have not taken the throne. Things have changed, and while we have a plan, I do not know if it will all work out. I need you to trust that I will always, always do what is best for us, Tywin."

Her voice broke at the end, as a sob escaped. How had he come to mean so much to her in such a short period of time? This man was slowly becoming her entire world and she didn't want things to end and more, she wanted him to trust her. To want to let her in. To build something with her!

"I am utterly alone in this world and mine. I have no one but you, Tywin."

She was left there, vulnerable and exposed, wondering if she'd miscalculated, when he moved.

His arms were around here in an instant, hugging her close.

"Hush," he commanded as she shuddered and sobbed into his leather doublet. "You have me," he whispered, so soft she barely caught the words as they floated down to her. She shuddered out one last sigh and then glanced up at him. He was still tense.

"We need to speak, Sansa, alone."

She nodded and looked around.

"Can we get away from the castle?"

She felt watched her and wanted the freedom that only came on the back of a horse.

Her most pressing question was what had happened with Tyrion. Perhaps if she knew what had changed, she might understand what was going on at the Rock better. And she might be able to give him some information, some insight into his family.

"Can you ride?"

She grinned and he stroked a finger down her cheek. Progress! She thought. The other day, he'd hardly touched her, but here she was in his arms. And they were very, very good arms. Strong arms. Muscular arms.

"Oh, I can ride," she purred, wondering why she loved to bait him.

His green eyes darkened, the flecks of gold more pronounced. He shook his head at her, leaning down.

"My Lady, you are very naughty. Lions bite, you know."

"Oh gods, I hope so. I really, really hope so."

Tywin groaned.

Sansa giggled, the tension dissipating.

"Perhaps we can bring Kevan as a chaperone. He seems like the easiest going of your family."

Tywin agreed, and by the time she'd changed into a proper riding habit and made her way back to the stables, it was mid-afternoon and the weather perfect for a few hours away from the castle.

"We cannot go far," Tywin said, and she understood. They were at war, and the King could have sent men, spies, into her father's lands to try and kill any one of them. But there were some fields and woods nearby that should afford them some degree of privacy for the conversation they needed to have.

She approached the chestnut mare that was hers, crooning softly to her, pleased to see she was ready to go. Sansa was helped onto her horse by Tywin, who shot a possessive look to the stable hand that normally helped her.

When she was on her horse, she pranced lightly as she watched Tywin mount his large white warhorse.

Gods, they were magnificent animals, Sansa thought. She'd loved horses her entire life, and here, she had her own, to ride whenever she wanted.

No indoor plumbing – total bummer.

The typical mode of transportation, horse – total win!

She gave her soon-to-be husband the lead out of the yard, knowing she was likely to cause an uproar with him should she dart out in front of him. She'd caused him enough grief today, that she settled into her role as Soon to be Lady Sansa Lannister.

They cantered through the gates and over the drawbridge (and that was cool) and Sansa was soon riding beside him, through the fields adjacent to Riverrun.

Sansa couldn't help the smile that graced her face; she was at home on the back of the horse, pleased that there was something that truly transcended their time difference.

Her hair, in a loose knot, came free, cascading down her back in a waterfall of bright red, and she threw her head back and laughed as she kicked her mare into a gallop and sprinted over the land, turning to wink at Tywin, before she was caught up in the moment and racing away from him, leaving the man that was to be her husband, in a state of stunned shock.

Tywin and Kevan

Had Sansa been just a wee bit closer, had she looked back at the right moment, she would have seen Kevan shake his head and look to Tywin.

"Are you sure you are ready for her?" Kevan asked, both men utterly transfixed by her.

She was as unlike Joanna as any woman Kevan had ever met. He was still completely stunned by what happened a few days ago in Hoster Tully's solar. Somehow, his brother had walked into that room Lord of Casterly Rock, and emerged with the promise to be crowned King should they win this war against the Mad King.

Best of all, Kevan thought, was how Tywin looked at Sansa Tully.

He'd never even looked at Joanna in such a way, and Kevan thought it wonderful. It took a strong woman to go up against his brother, and not back down.

The Great Lion, having realized he was just staring after her, gave his head a shake and kicked her horse, racing after her, determined that when he caught her, he'd never let her go.

She was fire, and freedom and his heart stirred, his lion, so long dormant and grieving, coming back to life. She was everything he'd never known he needed, and he felt drawn ever deeper into her world. Life with Sansa was sure to be an adventure and he was as helpless as a man at sea, caught in a storm to turn away from her.

When he'd come upon her in the kennel, he knew his reaction had been over the top. But seeing her near someone so far below her station had enraged him. She had to know what the Lannister name meant!

Then she had scolded him at his treatment of the Clegane whelp, and had berated him for having a man like Gregor in his service!

She dared! was all Tywin could think as his horse ate up the distance, closing in fast on her.

Sansa was intelligent, brave, fierce.

She was a creature unlike any he'd ever know, and tomorrow she would be his. They'd say vows, sealing their lives, their fates together in front of the Seven.

When he finally caught her, they were at the edge of a wood, and Tywin slowed, pleased when she followed suit.

"I take it you have horses from your time?"

Sansa laughed and nodded. "Yes, My Lord, we do."

Tywin snorted. "So now I'm your lord. Funny when you were poking me with your finger I was Tywin."

Sansa shrugged and sighed. "I'm sorry. Sometimes it is hard to bite my tongue. I'm not used to being so helpless."

Tywin cocked his head. "So it is not the same, where you are from? People do not make vows to one another? Men do not get angry?"

She shook her head. "No. I mean, people marry and say vows, yes. And yes, people get angry. But here, there is a very distinct role and place for women. When I'm from, women can do anything."

Tywin scoffed.

"Anything?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Tywin, it's 2020. Trust me when I say, women have more than earned their rights to be equal to men."

He was lost in her blue eyes when a sound alerted them both to the fact that they were not alone. Sansa and Tywin turned, almost as one, to see Kevan behind them, his eyes were as wide as saucers and his face pale. Then without a word, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he fainted, slumping over his horse.

Dawning horror came to both of them at once, as Tywin quickly vaulted from his horse, racing to catch Kevan before he fell. They propped him up against a tree, Sansa fetching water, as Tywin scowled. She was just about to splash his face when Tywin's hand fell on her shoulder.

She glanced up at him, and he saw the worry in her eyes. Crouching down, he cupped her cheeks in his hand. Gods, he loved touching her.

"He's loyal, Sansa. The best man I know. He'll keep our secret."

She worried her lip, and Tywin, unable to help himself, finally leaned down and took her lips in his. It was a soft, gentle kiss, meant to reassure. Tywin couldn't remember the last time he'd kissed his wife, and any of those thoughts were obliterated by the little moans that Sansa was making.

He wanted this woman; she was like a drug in his system, and he craved her. He could have spent hours learning her mouth, when a cough interrupted them and they turned, as one, to see Kevan Lannister staring at them, an incredulous look on his face. Sansa tensed and Tywin held her closer, knowing he was breaking all rules of propriety, and not caring in the least.

He would be marrying this woman tomorrow and that was final.

Then Kevan threw his head back and laughed, and wagged a finger at Sansa.

"Oh my dear, I have questions for you." Tywin felt the tension drain from her and then she smiled and held out her hand.

Kevan, somewhat bewildered, took her hand in his, and she gave it a firm shake.

"Hi, Kevan Lannister. I'm Sansa Stark, and I'm from the future."

Then Kevan turned to Tywin and threw his head back and laughed.

"Only you, Tywin. Only you."