A Hound in the Woods

Aftermath

The prospect of going home is very appealing.

Funerary pyres stretched as far as the eye could see. Those who remained cut down trees to the west of Winterfell to build them. There were only a third of them remaining after the long night. Unsullied, Dothraki, men from the northern houses, the Nights Watch, and the Wildlings stood together, diminished and weary from their fight for survival. Sandor watched the living give their final goodbyes to the dead. Arya hovered near the body of Beric Dondarrion, the Lightning Lord, Champion of the Lord of Light. His battered body hardly recognizable, save his eyepatch and the horrific scars from his past deaths. There was no Thoros to bring him back. He was gone forever this time.

Arya returned to the procession of mourners to wait for the signal to light the pyres. Sandor held back from the front line. He didn't really know many of the men and women they were about to burn. They may have met in passing, but he had no desire to claim friendship enough to light a pyre himself.

Jon Snow, Ned Stark's bastard boy, stepped out of the crowd. "We're here to say goodbye to our brothers and sisters. To our fathers, and mothers, our friends. Our fellow men and women who set aside their differences to fight together, and die together so that others might live. Everyone in this world owes them a debt that can never be repaid. It is our duty and our honor to keep them alive in memory, for those who come after us and those who come after them for as long as men draw breath. They were the shields that guarded the realms of men. And we shall never see their like again." Jon's words carried over the bodies of the men and women both living and dead, filling the emptiness of the fields.

Sandor bowed his head in reflection of how fortunate he was to have survived the long night and that he would be one of the lucky ones to tell his child about the brave souls who defeated the unconquerable cursed army of the far north. Jon took a lit torch and led the others in lighting the pyres. Black smoke curled as the tinder took flame and began to burn the bodies. Sandor's stomach churned at the sickening, acrid stench that began to surround them. He waited as long as he could before turning and retreating to his room in the castle.

.............................................

A modest feast was held in the great hall. Brown stew with meat and root vegetables was dished out and loaves of bread lined the tables. Flagons of bitter ale rested between the candles and bread for all to drink their fill. In the past, after a battle had been won, jovial toasts and cheers could be heard from all corners of the room. Songs would be sung and jokes would be told. But this was not like other victory feasts. There was a low murmur of conversation but there was seldom any joy or happiness to be felt. This was only the first battle of the war to come.

Cersei still sat the Iron Throne in King's Landing. Though she had promised aid to the northern front, it hadn't come. The only thing from King's Landing that made it north was her brother, Jamie Lannister. A one handed, has-been golden man who made a habit of fucking his sister was the only 'Lannister force' that came to fight the dead. And now that the dead were defeated, that left the living. And they were much stronger and more dedicated to their leader than what remained of those in the north.

Sandor fought his aching muscles to bring the spoon to his mouth. He had never fought so hard for such an extended period of time, he was amazed that he was even able to walk. His muscles were tight and sore. He longed to be in the armchair once again. The vision of Angharad from the red woman was tempting enough to leave for home at once, but he had to recover some strength before setting out again. If he left soon, he could be home in just a few weeks, and hopefully beat any snowstorms on the way down.

The young smith, Gendry, had managed to stay alive and sat across the table from Sandor. He looked around, searching for someone, but Sandor paid him no mind. He just ate his stew and thought of the fastest way to get home.