Author's Note: The characters belong to GGRM, I make no profit. My fanfic writing is for my own, personal amusement. That being said, your input is most welcomed. I have become obsessed with San/San as of late. I did, however, read a very interesting fanfic with a different perspective. Wolf and Dog written by Tarja the wind witch. Unfortunately, there are only 3 chapters and she is no longer writing on this site. It is listed as one of my favorites. Now, I am sure my story will raise some controversy. I think in the AU fan fic world it could be possible for Sandor and Arya to have a ship. They really do have much in common. Enjoy and happy reading. Reviews are encouraged and appreciated.

Chapter One

Sandor sat in the warm, dark room. He thought how far he had come, they had come. After a time in the Quiet Isles, he had left, to follow a rumor he heard; that Sansa Stark was in the Eyrie, captive of Littlefinger. The rumors had been true. Sandor had found Sansa and pledged his sword her, asked her forgiveness for what had transpired at the Blackwater and had taken her away from the Eyrie. Their escape had not been without incident, but they remained mostly unscathed. The politics were too dire in Westeros, so they had taken a boat to Braavos. Along the way their relationship had changed. Underlying feelings had come to fruition and Sansa had given herself completely to Sandor. Always the proper Lady, they said their vows with the Ship's captain as the witness to validate their union before it was consummated. Due to excitement of daring escape and lack of herbs on the ship, one thing lead to another and when the ship landed in Braavos, Sansa was with child.

Their life in Braavos was different than it had been before. Sandor was largely an unknown beyond the realm, so he did not have to take measures to disguise himself, as if that would really do him any good. Sansa was so ill with her pregnancy; she was abed most of the time. They financed their lifestyle with the jewels she had smuggled out of the Eyrie. Sandor was very worried for his Little Bird. They further she progressed, the more ill she became. He consulted a midwife, she suggested the combination of the escape, ship ride and carrying what she estimated was a large baby were the main causes of the malaise. Every woman adapted to pregnancy differently, and with Sansa's fragile constitution, growing a babe was more difficult on her than others. The midwife had suggested they hire a handmaid to care for Sansa and for both of them when the babe came.

Sansa labored for over 2 days to bring forth their daughter. The baby was a big and healthy, dark haired beauty, with those familiar Tully Blue eyes. Sansa on the other hand, was drained. She was bleeding and the prognosis wasn't good. Sandor was a wreck. He was torn. He was horrified that his seed could be the ultimate cause of his Little Bird's demise. On the other hand, he was delighted with his daughter. His heart had swelled with a love he had not thought possible. The babe was well tended by the kind and loving maid who fed and cuddled the baby girl as if she were kin. Sandor kept vigil with his Little Bird, as she was in and out of consciousness.

As he sat in her room, his thoughts were interrupted by Sansa's fluttering eyelids. Her voice, dry and parched, she whispered "How is the baby?" Sandor brought some sweet water to Sansa's lips and helped her drink. He gently tucked her hair behind her ears, "Our little lass is just fine, Little Bird. That nurse, Nan, takes good care of the babe. She's feeding her goat's milk as we speak. You can tell she's my daughter, the way she suckles the milk out of a clean wineskin! You're the one I am worried about."

Sansa smiled at him weakly and patted his hand. "What shall we call our daughter?" She whispered.

Sandor smiled at his wife, "Lemoncake?" He teased.

She smiled a watery smile at him, her eyes shining. "Jonquil?"

She closed her eyes and took her last breath.