Sandor woke up in a field.

Normally this wouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary, except for the fact that for a few weeks now he'd had a real roof to call his own, a bed to sleep in and for the first time since he'd left King's Landing five years before, a place to call home ( Read more... )

Sandor sat on a bench in the yard at Winterfell, sharpening his sword. It was gorgeous compared to the thing he'd been toting around for the last few months; not a spot of rust on it, not a nick or a pit in sight. In the center of the practice yard, Lord Stark's bastard was sparring with his skinny brat of a sister, their laughter ringing from the ( Read more... )