He nodded, kissing your lips a final time before giving you a light shove in the right direction, "off with you." You rolled your eyes at him but did as you were told, heading into the castle.
You had made it all the way to Sansa's chamber door before tears began to fall from your eyes. The sobs caught her attention, and she was quick to pull the door open, finding you leaning against the stone wall with your head in your hands.
"What on earth is the matter?"
The question caught you off guard and you quickly righted yourself, swiping away the loose tears that ran down your cheeks.
"Nothing," you started, forcing a small smile onto your lips.
Sansa did not believe you, you could tell as much from the frown she sent in your direction. "Well-" she shrugged slightly, gesturing for you to come inside, "- we ought to get comfortable, we'll likely be here a while, yet."
The two of you sat in awkward silence for a while, watching Sansa repeatedly stabbing into her needlepoint with exceedingly graceful gestures. You held back the desperate need to look through her window, instead, fixing yourself to the middle of her bed, your legs crossed under yourself. Her bedchambers overlooked the battlegrounds, and would likely give you a chance to find Sandor in the crowd if you were to risk looking. He was hard to miss, especially when bound in his armour.
"Do you think we will win?" The question fell from your lips without permission, and Sansa paused, her hand hovering above her work.
"I don't know."
The answer was simple, so simple in fact that it caused your anxiety to rear its ugly head, leaving you quite uneasy. You shifted in your seat, and Sansa lifted her eyes to look at you.
"Y/N, none of us know-" she paused momentarily, setting down her work and getting to her feet, "-but we have no choice but to try."
She crossed the room, climbing onto the bed and sitting opposite you, as you had when you were children. "And what do we do if they lose?" you asked her, your voice softer than you had intended.
"Nothing," she answered you with a shrug, "we simply sit here and hope that the Wight Walkers pass us by."
Your eyebrows furrowed, "but everyone else will be dead," you told her, and she nodded.
"Well, what else could we do?" You were both silent for a moment, considering her question. "There is nothing else, it is either die or stay alive."
"I'd rather be dead than live here knowing that everyone we've ever loved is gone." Sansa launched forward, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. "When this is all over-" you started, shifting out of her grip, but taking her hand in yours, "- if we win, do you think Jon would allow me to marry?"
Sansa shook her head in disbelief, "Bran is Lord of Winterfell," she paused for a moment, "and why would either of them not allow you to marry?"
"I'm not sure they would approve," you started, shifting uncomfortably for a moment.
Your sister laughed, "Who is it?"
You bit your lip for a moment, considering whether to answer or not. "Sandor Clegane." Sansa remained silent for a mere second, and then her hand met yours.
"Sandor was good to me," she told you softly, "he kept me safe in the Capital, Kept Arya safe on the roads. He's one of Jon's bannermen now. Why on earth wouldn't they let you marry him?"
You shrugged, "I don't know," you muttered, "he didn't have the best reputation before..."
Sansa held up her hand, effectively silencing you. "Before," she repeated, "everything is different now." She gripped your hand in hers, kissing the back lightly, "all we want is for you to be happy. If Sandor will do that, then we will all be pleased to see you wed."
Part 100 - Sandor Clegane X Stark!Reader
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