EPILOGUE

It was not easy at first. They were two very different people, after all, and both were extremely damaged in their own ways. Sansa knew in her heart that she had come to love the Hound, Sandor Clegane, most fiercely, but she still found she cowered at times in his presence.

Sandor too, faced challenges. He was a gruff and brutal man with a severe lack of empathy and mercy, and he would grow tired of treating her like a delicate flower all the time. In truth, her skin had grown much tougher over the years after their journey North, but to him, she was still his Little Bird. Therefore, he sometimes became easily irritable at how carefully he tread around her. He lashed out on several occasions, even struck her once. He had lost control for a moment and he didn't even see his hand fly through the air until a moment later when she had crumpled to the ground. Then, he had dissolved into a mess of apologies and frantic assurances that she was okay, falling beside her and cradling her small frame in his lap, rocking her and promising never to hurt her again.

And though she knew he had not meant to strike her, it was outbursts like that that kept her on her toes with her new husband. Some years had passed since Bran left, and the reconstruction of Winterfell moved faster than she could have anticipated. Men flocked to the North with successful words from her brothers in tow, swearing their fealty to their Lady Stark and promising to assist with rebuilding the castle. It was Sandor's idea for them to adopt the stronghold. He had even allowed himself to become an official knight of Winterfell, dubbed by Maester Luwin with Bran's approval, and thus he became the master of the newly named Clegane Stronghold, with it's new banner; a dog and a wolf running side by side. All he had needed was his lady wife, and when he had awkwardly thrust the ring at Sansa and basically demanded that she marry him with an odd blush in his cheeks, Sansa found herself laughing and crying all at once before saying yes.

That had been some years ago, and still, the two of them still struggled to find the easy rhythm of matrimony in their home. They argued often, both of them as stubborn as the other. Sansa once threw dishes at his head in the heat of a fight, and he had left their home for several days with no word. Eventually, he came home, weary and dirty, but he had gone straight to her and laid his head in her lap while she stroked his hair.

He had learned to be gentle as a lover, too. He had to. Though she had become a harder woman after her many trials, physically, she was much smaller and far more breakable than he could have imagined. Their wedding night almost didn't happen because he found it too daunting a task to make love to her without snapping her limbs. Still, they figured it out in time, and now when her husband claimed her body with his own in the heat of passion during the night, Sansa felt whole and happy and loved. Sandor would look into the eyes of his little fiery wife with a concerned face, and every time, she assured him that he was doing everything right and that she was okay. She'd kiss him then, and he would continue. After, as she lay nestled naked against his side, snoring softly, he'd smile and think about the Northern whores he once tried to compare her to, and realized there was no sweeter loving than this.

On the night that Sansa had received word that her brothers had found her sister, Arya, he held her through the night while she cried tears of joy. Sansa's little sister returned to them not long after that, and the two girls collapsed in a tight embrace, crying and laughing and talking so much that neither of them could really understand the other. Now, Arya lived in the finished parts of the new Winterfell, overseeing construction and carrying out official business while Bran and Rickon remained on the road.

On this particular night, Sansa had just returned from visiting her sister, and found the fires dim and the stronghold fast asleep. Silently, she walked to her room, removing her riding gloves and releasing her hair from a tight braid. Her husband lay under their furs, asleep, as she sat down beside him and lay a hand on his burnt face.

The scar didn't bother her anymore. In fact, she found herself stroking his deformed side more than his handsome side, favoring it not out of pity, but out of understanding and acceptance. Tonight was no exception, as she ran her fingers softly over the waxy skin.

"Mmm…" he grumbled, awakening at her touch. Sansa smiled wearily down at him.

"My love," she murmured, leaning against his chest. Sandor wrapped an arm lazily around her waist and opened his eyes lightly.

"I left a candle burning so you could see," he said sleepily, taking her hand and holding it to his lips. Every word he spoke was a light kiss on her fingers. "Why were you gone so long?" Sansa looked down in her lap and traced her other hand up and down his arm that rest there.

"I met with Maester Luwin. I have not felt well," she confessed, and Sandor's eyes opened wider, his mouth falling into a grim line. Sansa smiled wider and pulled her hand away, placing it back on his face.

"Don't fret," she reprimanded him jokingly. "All is well, I'm fine." Sandor seemed to relax, but some lingering doubt hovered in his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, quiet but gruff. Sansa sniffed as tears stung her eyes.

"Sandor," she choked out as her husband sat upright, concern radiating from him as he moved to hold her. She lay her hands on his chest to stay him, wanting to look him in the eyes and see his reaction.

"I'm pregnant."

The look on her husband's face was like watching a baby see the sun for the very first time. The roughness did not leave his expression, but something in his eyes lit up, and color flooded to his cheeks.

"What?" he asked, louder than he intended, and Sansa laughed as tears slipped down her cheeks.

"You're going to be a father," she told him quietly, taking his face between her two hands and looking at him intently. "Are you not pleased?"

Sandor had no words. A thousand questions ran through his mind as he pictured his small cub suckling at his small wife's breast, and a raging urge to protect them unfurled inside of him in a primitive way. Immediately, he thought of the day he had struck her, and his heart turned dreadful.

No. Somewhere inside his mind, Sansa's voice spoke to him, words she had said before. You are not a monster. You are not a murderer. Your past does not define you, and you may now choose the man you want to be, the man I have seen and have come to love. And he understood now, all their past interactions; the time she stopped him in the halls of King's Landing to thank him for saving her life; the time she looked deep into his eyes as he offered to take her North and told him that he would not hurt her. All the times she had denied him being a hateful and monstrous brute of a man was because she knew, some part of her knew that hate and rage were not all he was capable of feeling, but love and protection and caring as well.

And as he looked upon his crying wife, suddenly it seemed as though the whole world he had grown up in, hated, despised even, somehow made sense, that this was where all of his misfortunes and mistakes were leading him. To his redemption. To his second chance.

"I am…" he choked out, staggering over his words. He searched his mind for the right word to describe his emotions; overjoyed, excited, none of them did this feeling justice. Instead, he looked in her eyes, so eager for his answer, and his face lit up in the most animated smile she had ever seen. Sansa laughed and laughed as he rolled onto her, holding her in a tight embrace as he sprinkled kisses across her face and neck.

No, it was not easy at first. They were two very different people, after all, both of them damaged in their own ways, but now, they had found the cure to every kind of scar, whether it lay on their skin or on their soul; eachother.

THE END

A/N: That's all folks! Seriously I cannot thank you all enough for sticking with this story. For those of you who don't know, I've been on a very long hiatus from writing, and it was really nerve wrecking to get back in the game with such a DIFFICULT couple to write! Seriously, trying to keep these two in character was harder than I thought it would be! But, I could not have made my return to writing to a more gracious and welcoming audience, and for that, I owe you all thousands and thousands of hugs and cookies. It's good to be back, and I think I'll stay awhile :) Definitely keep your eyes out for more stuff from me.

Again, my many many many thanks 3