A/N: this chapter written per @justhereforsokeefe 's request! This takes place during Lodestar.
Sandor knew that being a bodyguard would mean rarely being home.
He even knew there was often the distinct possibility of needing to come home for the Aurification of a friend or comrade.
But one thing he had not ever considered was the possibility of the threat against his charge being so great that the family would have to flee their home and go into hiding.
But there was no denying that the safest place for them would be Gildingham.
And watching Miss Foster's obvious surprise had been rather amusing.
He'd shown them to their rooms and was giving them a chance to unwind and wrap their heads around the sudden change to their routines. Before long, there was a knock at the door announcing Grizel's arrival with their belongings.
One look at the grief on Grizel's face was enough to splinter Sandor's heart into even more pieces.
Sometimes it was really hard to be objective, even for a goblin.
"Sandor..." she said in a pained voice as she handed over the items she'd brought from the Lost Cities.
Sandor set the bags down and pulled Grizel into his arms, holding her as she sobbed. She clung tightly to him.
And he felt his walls starting to crumble.
"I'm sorry," Grizel whispered, her voice thick. "When the news first came through, all anyone could tell me was that a soldier was down at Havenfield. And I thought..."
"I don't deserve your worry." Sandor's voice was choked with fury. "I wasn't there when Brielle and Cadoc needed me. I was pacing in front of Lumenaria like a fool."
"Staying with your charge doesn't make you foolish," Grizel told him. "I would've done the same thing."
"Which proves we're both blindly stubborn beyond all reason, not that it was the right decision."
Grizel laughed softly. "The stubborn I'll agree to. But the blind part might fall squarely on you."
"I'm...not as blind as you think."
He said the words almost before thinking about it. But he couldn't take them back now—and if he were honest with himself, he didn't really want to.
He really just wanted to plow right on ahead and give in fully to all the feelings he'd been fighting.
"I couldn't stop you from being assigned to Fitz," he whispered, his tone suddenly much warmer. "But have you ever wondered why I assigned Brielle to watch over Grady?"
"I...figured it was because she was an incredible soldier," Grizel said carefully.
"She was. But we both know that charge should've gone to you. Given the rarity of Grady's talent, he needed our strongest warrior. I should've assigned you to protect him and moved Brielle to Everglen. But"--he cleared the catch from his throat--"I worried what would happen if we lived in such close quarters."
"Afraid I'd play too many games?"
"Afraid you'd win," he corrected softly.
"Is that really so frightening?" she whispered.
He cleared his throat again. "I chose the life of a soldier. And soldiers are strongest when they have nothing distracting them--nothing slowing their hand or forcing caution when the battle calls for risk."
He was actually starting to worry about whether he could still be a good bodyguard to Miss Foster anymore. He'd allowed himself to care for her, and while that increased the desire to protect her—almost like a father—he worried that it would affect his ability to effectively do so.
"See, and I always thought the strongest soldiers were those with something worth fighting for. Something to come home to. Something they can't bear to lose that makes them refuse to surrender."
"I don't know," he whispered. "But I can't stop imagining what I'd do if it were you in that coffin. How lost I'd feel." He shuddered.
It really made things a lot clearer.
He wasn't sure he wanted to live with that kind of regret if he continued to deny his feelings for Grizel and something happened to her.
She was looking at him with such hope in her eyes that he felt the last of those walls tumble down.
He was giving in.
He even thought about kissing her right then and there.
But he knew Miss Foster was around the corner listening, and had no desire to have an audience for that.
"Well," Grizel said eventually, reluctantly pulling herself out of his arms. "I suppose I should be getting back to Everglen. Queen Hylda gave me a long list of preparations to make for tomorrow."
She turned to leave, but he couldn't help but tell her, "I haven't forgotten that I owe you a dance."
"Neither have I," Grizel whispered. "But I won't force you."
"You aren't," he breathed. "I can't promise much. But I might be able to handle...slow."
"Slow," Grizel repeated with even more hope in her voice, taking his hands in her own. "I'd be good with slow."
He reached up to brush her cheek, and she leaned into his palm, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. They stood there for several seconds, neither moving or saying a word, before she finally pulled away, smiling at him shyly.
'Shy' was rarely a word he'd use to describe Grizel.
"Be safe," he whispered.
"Always." She turned to leave, then at the last minute, turned back and winked at him. "This won't get you out of wearing those silver pants."
Sandor sighed. "I suppose that's the least of my worries."
He watched as she left, shutting the door behind her.
The moment he locked the door, he turned to look at Sophie, who had finally crept into the hallway. "I knew you were listening."
"I figured," she told him, glee in her voice. "And just so you know, I think you made the right decision. You guys are so--"
"Keep in mind that any comments you make about my love life gives me permission to talk to you about boys," he interrupted, knowing this was the best way to shut her down.
She was even more averse to discussing boys than he was to discussing his own love life.
Her denial ran deep.
"I'd also appreciate your discretion," he continued. "Now is not the time for such things to become known."
"Done," she agreed. "I just want to see you happy. Especially after all the sacrifices you make for me. I'm sorry again for inflicting on you. Next time I'll keep a tighter hold until I'm sure I'm fighting a threat."
Sandor shook his head as handed over her backpack. "How about instead we focus on making sure there isn't a next time?"
If only it would be that easy.
It was a couple of days before Sandor had a chance to talk more privately with Grizel. He was able to welcome her into his living room as he asked her how she was holding up after Brielle's Aurification.
Grizel shrugged. "She went out exactly how she'd have wanted: protecting her charge."
"That much is true," Sandor agreed.
"What I want to know," Grizel told him, tossing her ponytail, "is why you seem more contemplative and sad than usual?"
Sandor sighed. "You said something the other day about the strongest warriors have something they care about, to give them a reason to keep fighting. I know you were talking about love and families, but..."
Grizel stepped closer. "But what?"
"What about when one of the people you care about is the charge you've sworn to protect? Won't that make it hard to be objective?"
Grizel smiled at him. "You care about Sophie, you mean, and that worries you?"
"It does. At first I thought it would be okay because I needed to get to know her in order to better protect her. But...even though she's a stubborn teenager, she's also...precious. The longer I protect her, the more I want to. Not just because it's my job. Not to make our queen proud. But because I care about her, I worry about her."
"What's so wrong about that?" Grizel asked him, reaching out and taking his hand.
His impulse was to pull away, deny himself, deny his feelings, pretend her touch meant nothing to him.
But he had already decided he was done living without Grizel, so he squeezed her hand as he responded. "Because suddenly her feelings matter more than they should. My only priority should be her physical safety, but now I find myself wondering what my security measures will do to her emotionally. I worry about keeping her from her friends. And also," he growled, "I find myself wanting to tear that Sencen boy into pieces for betraying her and for stringing her along. Pretending to still be her friend while still working for the people who kidnapped her."
"Easy there, Sandor," Grizel murmured. "You're squeezing my hand awfully tight." She waited while he took a deep breath and loosened his grip. "And I understand what you're saying. But I still think it's perfectly fine to care about your charge. For one thing—you've been assigned to a child. It would be pretty heartless not to have some measure of affection for her. You think I don't care about Fitz? You think I haven't made an effort to study him, learn what makes him happy and what upsets him? I'm even thinking about seeing if he'll let me train him so he can defend himself a bit better. I haven't been assigned to him for long, but I like the kid. Even if he does obviously like Sophie but doesn't seem able to admit it."
Sandor sighed. "It's obvious she likes him too. Which makes me feel more protective than I should, since it's her life I'm meant to protect, not her heart."
Grizel grinned and inched closer. "All this talk about you wanting to protect a child, and worrying about her...it's very...attractive."
Sandor liked hearing that more than he wanted to admit.
He almost even smiled.
But he had something else in mind.
He brought both hands up to her face and gently pulled it down toward his...and kissed her.
"So," he murmured when he pulled away, "you're telling me not to worry about the fact that I've let myself care about Miss Foster?"
But Grizel shook her head. "Now I'm telling you we're done talking about our duties." She grinned as she leaned in to kiss him again. "I'd rather focus on us," she added in a whisper right before their lips met.