Work Text:
Death of a Stranger
Harwin waited respectfully at the door of the Great Hall where the Queen was listening to petitioners with her son, Ned. He waited until he caught her eye, then nodded. Swiftly and graciously, Sansa rose and excused herself, sweeping from the hall.
‘What news, Harwin?’
‘It’s over, Your Grace. His Grace is in the stables. I thought it best to tell you.’
Thank you Harwin, you were right. When did it happen?’
‘Just now, Your Grace. He went very quickly in the end. I knew it was bad when he didn’t even try to bite us today. His Grace will take it badly. They were a pair for a long time.’
‘Over two score years.’
Harwin sighed. ‘A true friend is a true friend, I don’t care what anyone says.’
‘Please keep everyone away from the stables for now. When His Grace is ready we’ll move the remains to the grave. Is it prepared?’
‘All is as you commanded, Your Grace.’
‘Thank you. I will send for you.’
‘Your Grace.’ Harwin bowed and left.
A small crowd had gathered outside the stables. Robynne was there with her nephew, little Sandor, in her arms.
‘Father is inside, and so upset. He cleared everyone out and won’t speak to anyone. You’d better go to him Mother, you’re the only one he’ll listen to.’
Sansa squeezed her daughter’s arm.
‘Take little Sandor inside. I’ll look after your father.’
The stable door creaked open and Sansa gave herself a moment to adjust to the shady interior. The familiar scent of hay and horses hung in the air and she was greeted by the whinny of her gentle mare, Silver. Sansa paused only briefly to stroke her velvety muzzle before heading towards Stranger’s stall at the far end of the building. She paused, then opened the stall door.
The once proud stallion lay stretched and stark on the cobbled floor, his head resting in Sandor’s lap. His master’s huge, calloused hand stroked the grey old muzzle and didn’t pause when his wife sat down beside him. Sansa slipped her arm through Sandor’s and leaned her head on his shoulder. Dust motes danced in patches of light and a distant shout was the only sound. Finally, Sandor spoke.
‘I really thought he’d make it, just like he did the last time. I never thought he’d die.’
Sansa’s heart bled at the pain in his voice, like a lost little boy, and she kissed his shoulder.
‘He wouldn’t even eat the bran mash I made for him, but I still thought – ‘ his scar twitched and he turned away. It was a while before he spoke again.
‘I bought him when I was eighteen, did you know that? A big, bad tempered, vicious old bugger he was, even then. Little more than a colt, and everybody feared him. That’s how I was able to afford such a fine animal. No one could handle him,’ He snorted. ‘Stupid bloody fools tried to frighten him. You can’t rule a horse like Stranger with fear. Win his loyalty, win his respect, then he’s yours for life. Not that it happened overnight.’ Sandor chuckled. ‘Grumpy old bastard nearly killed me once or twice, but I got through to him in the end. In one of his first battles, not much more than a skirmish, I got a whack of a warhammer that broke a few of my ribs and unseated me. I was stretched on the ground, completely winded, when I saw the enemy standing over me to finish me off. I couldn’t believe I was going to die in such a stupid, pointless, farce of a battle – gods, I was furious! – when all of a sudden the knight went flying. I heard him scream, and by the time I had struggled to my feet, there was my boy trampling the life out of him. No one would mess with me when Stranger was around! You can’t imagine what that meant to me, Sansa. For the first time in my life I had someone who would do anything to protect me. From that moment on nothing mattered more to either of us than each other. At least not until you came along, Little Bird.’
He kissed the top of his wife’s head.
‘Do you remember the day of the riots in King’s Landing? I was so frantic to save you I left my poor Stranger behind. I never even thought of him until I knew you were safe. That’s when I knew that I felt more for you than mere duty. You and the children came into my life and my loyalties changed. Stranger’s never wavered.’
Sandor looked away again.
‘No one liked him,’ he whispered.
‘I liked him’ Sansa said, laying her hand gently on her husband’s. ‘Do you remember that day in the Sept of Stones, when you made me pat him? I nearly had a fit with fright, but you insisted. You took my hand in yours and showed me how to stroke him without fear.’
‘I really just wanted to hold your hand.’
‘Be that as it may,’ Sansa smiled, ‘he and I were friends from that day forward, and the children grew to like him too.’ She paused. ‘I have given instructions that he be buried in the godswood, and no one protested. They thought it a fit resting place for the steed that had carried their Queen home, and their king into so many victories. And how many of the finest horses in Winterfell and beyond were sired by your Stranger? I think you will find he was liked by more than you imagine.’
Sandor squeezed his wife’s hand. ‘Thank you, Little Bird.’
Sansa sensed he had more to say and waited quietly until he was ready.
‘I know you loved Lady dearly and that you miss her to this very day, and that the bond between Stark and direwolf was something supernatural. But Sansa, even when Lady lived you had so many others to love and be loved by. She was never your whole world. I don’t mean to belittle your loss, I know a piece of you died with her. I feel the same way about Stranger. He wasn’t just a good horse to me. He loved me when no one else did. He protected me when no one else would. When even you couldn’t bear to look at me, he could. He was my one and only friend for so long, and he was – he was –‘
‘He was your family.’
Sandor burst into sobs. Sansa took her husband into her arms and held him to her heart, rocking him back and forth and whispering endearments. He had not cried like this since baby Catelyn, and Sansa did not try to stop him.
When the storm had passed, she smoothed his hair and wiped his tears gently with her own handkerchief. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed his forehead. ‘Would you like some more time alone with him?’
Sandor sighed. ‘No, Little Bird. No point in delaying the inevitable.’ He stood and helped his wife up. ‘Are they all gone?’ he scowled.
‘Yes love, they’re gone. Don’t worry, no one wil see you. Harwin and some of your Winterfell Wolves will help us bring Stranger to the godswood, whenever you command.
‘Thank you, girl. Wait for me at the door, I’ll be with you in a minute.’
‘Yes, my love.’
When he was alone, Sandor knelt back down in the straw.
‘Listen to me, you old bugger. I have one last command for you. When my time comes, don’t you let your namesake come for me on his own. You come too. Be sure to bring my baby Catie with you, and my little sister too, and we’ll make a great reunion of it. If that grim bastard tries to stop you, you know what to do.’
He patted his loyal companion one last time and stood up, brushing straw from his clothes and tears from his eyes.
‘Thank you, my dear old friend. Until we meet again, goodbye.’