An epilogue. Sorry if it is very cheesy and corny, but I am sucker for happy endings, especially for ASOIAF. Mr. Martin is just so mean to his characters all the time, I can't help but get out the love and happiness I want for them!

Not sure if it is worth the wait, but I had a lot of fun writing this cheesiness, and I hope you can enjoy reading it and get some stupid grins out of it at the least.

It was three years before they returned to Westeros and it was a bloody dragon that brought them back. The Dragon Queen had returned and flew to the wall. She found Jon Snow, now Jon Targaryen and named him heir, as she was barren. Jon had used his new position as King to send out a plea for any remaining Starks to come to him, so he could restore their birthright in the North. Sandor could not believe it when he heard the all the news.

Apparently the bastard had been told that his half brothers, Bran and Rickon, were not butchered by Theon Greyjoy as they all had thought. They had escaped and stayed hidden for their protection. No one knew what happened to Arya or Sansa, though. Arya had disappeared before Ned Stark lost his head, and Sansa had gone missing the night of the Battle of the Blackwater, along with the Lannister Hound. Neither had been heard from again. Jon was desperate for his family to return to him, the only family he had ever known.

Sandor brought the news to his Little Bird, who had been nursing their child at the time. Sansa still always managed to take his breath away. She was still beautiful and perfect. Even more so with his son suckling at her breast. Mine. Both of them, mine. And they love you dog, bugger it all.

Sandor had made Sansa drink moon tea for the first year they were married.

"It's not safe for us yet, love. We can't bring some poor fucking bastard into the world when we still might lose our heads at any time. Just wait, girl. You're young. There is no rush."

She gave him a year before she put her foot down.

"No, Sandor," she had said. "I'm your wife. I want to give you a child. I want to have a child with you. We haven't even been recognized since those Lannister men back by the Twins. You're being ridiculous. I won't drink that moon tea."

Then, Sandor had tried to pull out of his wife when they fucked. Big fucking mistake, dog. Sandor remembered vividly how badly that plan turned out.

He had been fucking her from behind when he pulled out and came on her backside. She had screamed at him and then wouldn't speak to him for a week, no matter what he tried or how he pleaded. Then she had seduced him wantonly, only to leave him hard after he fucked her with his fingers. The next morning he awoke to his Little Bird riding his already hard cock, warning him if he ever tried that again he would wake up without the ability to ever reproduce. You're rubbing off on her too much, dog, he had thought.

She had gotten her way, and three months after that she missed her moonblood and they knew.

The pregnancy had been easy for her, he was glad to see. She was very rarely sick and she glowed all the time. Her joy and excitement were contagious, even for a snarling, nasty dog. He would talk to her belly at night and in the morning, and would have his hands on it constantly.

The labor had Sandor terrified. Fucking women are so much braver than men. Sandor was there the entire time. He had gotten her the best healer he could find to help her. Sansa was wonderful. She screamed and cried and cursed but she was so brave and determined. And at the end of it all, he was there, a perfect, beautiful baby boy who had Sansa's red hair and Sandor's grey eyes. Eddard Clegane. Ned.

Sandor held his son for the first time with Sansa's hand limp on his arm, her eyes watching him, clearly exhausted, but filled with so much love Sandor thought he would explode from the pressure of it.

His heart almost burst with Ned in his arms. So tiny, so perfect, and so beautiful. He couldn't believe he could be part of making something like that. Going soft, dog. But who the fuck cares, anyway?

He loved being a father and Sansa excelled at being a mother. Ned was as sweet as his mother, but strong and playful. He crawled on fat little legs and arms, hiding from them and laughing loudly when they found him. He loved to talk, to Sandor especially, and would blabber on, wordlessly, whenever he could.

"Now I have two chirping annoyances," he had joked, trying to scowl the way he used to be so good at, but only succeeding in smiling wider. Sansa kissed his cheek.

Then the news came. Sansa cried when he told her. Ned didn't like that, and took his mother's hand. He was as protective of the Little Bird as his father.

"We need to go back, Sandor. It's time to go home."

"I don't know Little Bird. The travelling will be hard on Ned. And I'm the fucking Lannister Hound. What if the Dragon Whore wants my head? Or your bastard brother? Are you so eager to be rid of me?"

"Do not say things like that to me, Sandor," she told him sharply. "I will never be rid of you. They won't take you from me. You will bring Jon his lost sister back. You kept me safe. You are my husband. You will be safe."

"Protecting me now, are you, Little Bird? That is my job."

"Do you truly think they'd punish you? You never wronged a Targaryen. And you never harmed any of the Starks. You married me. You love me. I love you."

"Aye, I suppose you're right, Little Bird. If you want to go back, then back we'll go."

The trip was not pleasant. Ned did not like the ship. He was green and sick for the voyage and Sandor hated to see his son so sad and helpless. He also hated the confined cabin they had and the fact that he could not take his wife the way he wanted her. Still a dirty dog.

The trip was over, soon, though, and they were greeted back in Westeros with an honor guard. Sansa had sent a raven ahead of her, telling Jon her story before setting a date to depart Pentos. Jon had written back, begging her home, and telling her she would be happy with what she found there and safe with her family.

Jon had been telling the truth. When they arrived in King's Landing, Sansa was reunited with her brothers and sister. Jon had been able to find them all, and Sansa was the last to return.

Bran had gone North of the Wall. He was a warg and had been gifted wisdom and foresight. Still so young, but so solemn, Brandon Stark sat quietly, petting his huge direwolf, telling Sansa before she spoke a word how happy he was that her life had been filled with so much joy. He looked like he belonged in another world-almost like he was half in reality and half out of it. Bran had watched Sandor in his eerie way, and thanked him for keeping his sister safe and loved. Bugger me that kid is fucking off, he had thought. Bran smiled slightly, then, as if he had read his mind. Fucking strange.

Rickon had been raised in a wild place by a wilding. Sandor liked this one. He cursed and looked around the court as if everyone was crazy. Aye, this boy sees the right of it. Still, Rickon was wary of his family, and Sandor did not like the tears that slid down his Little Bird's cheeks when Rickon flinched away from her embrace. This one's beast was just as restless, and Sandor did not like the way he growled at Sansa. I'll fucking kill you, you overgrown fleabag.

Arya was the biggest surprise of all. Fucking wolf bitch. Arya had travelled far, but had been the first to answer Jon's call. She had become a killer. Her direwolf was the biggest of them all, standing taller than the King's silent white beast. Sandor noticed that there were five direwolf pups scuffling behind them.

Arya had pulled a skinny sword when he approached with Sansa and held it to his throat.

"You should be dead, dog."

"Arya! That is my husband. Take your blade from him, now!" Sansa had rushed between them, nearly grabbing out for the blade before Sandor grabbed her and placed her behind him.

"Don't pull a sword unless you intend to use it, wolf bitch," he had growled.

"Da da?" Ned squeaked up from between his legs, and for the first time in his life, Sandor felt fear. He did not want to die in front of his son, he realized. He did not want to die yet, at all. Bugger me.

"Arya, love, we spoke about this. Sandor is Sansa's husband now, and his crimes are well in the past." The fucking king had spoken, drawing closer and putting his hands on Arya's waist.

"Arya, you won't kill him. Nor should you," Bran whispered, watching everything as if he was actually far away.

"Fine." She lowered her sword.

Ned had been clutching Sandor's legs tightly and whimpering, "up, da, up!" He lifted his son, then, and put his arm around Sansa.

"Sansa," Jon moved forward and bowed, slightly, to his Little Bird.

"Jon, it has been so long," stepping forward, Sansa reached out and embracedthe king. Sandor knew Sansa had not been overly kind to Jon when they grew up together in Winterfell, and knew she regretted it. She had told him many times. It was no surprise to him when Jon's eyes widened and he stiffened momentarily, before hugging her back.

Stepping away from Jon, Sandor watched Sansa approach her sister. They looked at each other for a minute before Sansa let out a sob and grabbed Arya.

"I'm so sorry, Arya. I'm sorry I told the Queen about Father's plan to send us home. I'm sorry for being mean to you in Winterfell. I'm sorry I lied to King Robert about Joffrey attacking you and the butcher's boy. I'm sorry for all of it."

Arya looked uncomfortable, but Sandor was relieved to see that she shushed Sansa and told her there was nothing to apologize for. After a few minutes, Sandor walked forward, still holding Ned, and pulled Sansa into his chest to comfort her. She let out a few more sobs while Ned and Sandor pet her hair, then composed herself.

"I'm sorry. I have been waiting to see you all, for so long. I never thought this would happen. I thought we would not ever meet again. Any of us. And here we are."

"Yes," said Jon, "and look at your son! He is beautiful, Sansa. Ned, isn't it?"

"Yes, for father."

Jon reached out and ruffled Ned's hair gently, smiling. For the first time, the king looked up at Sandor and addressed him.

"Congratulations, my lord. It seems I owe you a great deal of thanks. You saved Sansa from the Lannister's schemes. You kept her safe and happy. And now you have returned her to me and her family."

"I'm no lord. Your Grace."

"You are, as a matter of fact. Bran has consented to become Hand of the Queen. He will stay here and advise Dany and me. Rickon is going to be fostered with the Umbers and will eventually become Lord of the Dreadfort, when he is ready. Winterfell is Sansa's and yours. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell, after all."

"What of Arya?" Sansa asked, looking at her sister curiously.

"Arya and I will be married," Jon said, smiling. Sansa gasped, but it was clear that she alone was surprised.

Surprised as she was, Sansa recovered well and ran forward to embrace her sister and then Jon. Well, Targaryens always liked to keep it in the family. And at least they are not actually brother and sister. Sandor couldn't help but snort out a small laugh.

"Thank you, Your Grace, for Winterfell, for bringing us back together again," Sansa sighed, happily. "I never believed I could ever feel this happy again."

Sansa spent the rest of their time in the Red Keep reuniting with her family. They left a moon's turn later, heading to Winterfell with a host of people, including Rickon and the direwolves. The King and Arya had given Sansa all of the pups, to Sandor's surprise, and Rickon had his beast, Shaggydog. The rest of the group were tradesmen and their families, interested in living in the North. Some had moved South during the war and wanted to go home, some were promised land to be part of rebuilding Winterfell. Sandor was glad to learn that Jon had sent people back to Winterfell months earlier, when Dany had won the throne, getting it ready for a Stark to return to it.

"King's Landing is a hard place for a direwolf or a dragon. We already have both here, and Nymeria and Ghost will have more litters. Take them, let them grow in the North, where they belong. Give them to your children." Jon had said all this with a smile, while Sansa cried in his arms. She was thrilled to have direwolves back in her life.

It took a month to get to the North, but the travel was easy. They stayed at expensive inns and had guards travelling with them, just in case. Sandor was annoyed. Turning you into a fucking lord, bugger it all. He had no occasion to draw his sword and fight. He had no reason to protect his Little Bird or Ned. He had no reason to even keep watch, since there were multiple guards for that.

The only part of the journey that made Sandor happy was the sleeping arrangement. The inns that hosted their party were lavish. Sandor and Sansa almost always had their own private chamber, with an adjoining one for Ned. Sandor could get out some of his frustration. He fucked Sansa hard and long each night and each morning, before Ned awoke.

Sansa was just as needy. The first night of their journey, Sansa had literally jumped on Sandor the second they had closed the door to Ned's room, after putting him down to sleep.

"I feel like I've hardly had a second alone with you for the past two moons, my love," she had sighed as she pulled at the laces on his breeches and he pulled his shirt over his head. "The Red Keep was always so exhausting and the boat before it was horrid. I've missed you. Have you missed me?" She was kissing down his neck.

"Aye, Little Bird. I've missed you. All of you." Sandor had chuckled evilly as he grabbed Sansa and threw her on the bed. He settled himself on top of her, loving the feel of her body squirming beneath his. Won't ever get tired of this, dog.

Still on top of her, wearing only his smallclothes, Sandor had looked at his wife. She was flushed and panting with excitement, her eyes bright. She was still dressed in her smallclothes, having taken off her gown to feed Ned. He leaned down, then and sucked on her neck, marking her the way he knew she liked. He smirked against her skin when he finished.

"I'm not sure which part of you I missed most, Sansa. I missed your neck. It tastes so good when I suck on it and I love how much you squirm under me when I do. I missed hearing you laugh while I mark you."

He shifted down her body, running his hands from her shoulders to her breasts, which were still swollen with milk. Sandor remembered the first time he had sucked on her breasts and tasted her milk. He hadn't meant to do it, but he got carried away when he was fucking her for the first time after she birthed Ned, and he couldn't stop himself. The flush of wetness in his mouth had surprised him and he had swallowed it before he thought about it. Like the rest of her, this was delicious. Perfect Little Bird, he had thought as he sucked again, longer and harder this time, hearing her gasp and whimper. Since then, Sandor couldn't stop himself from tasting her milk every time he made love to her.

"I missed these," he said as he nipped at her breasts over her smallclothes. "I missed watching how they bounce when my cock is inside you. I missed tasting your milk. It's almost as delicious as your cunt, Little Bird, have I ever told you that?"

"No," she whimpered, as his hands started tweaking her nipples, feeling the wetness starting to seep out of them.

"Can I take this off and taste them, Little Bird? Would you like that?"

Sandor had to ask, especially since Ned had just fed. He had some teeth now, and would sometimes hurt the Little Bird when he drank. It wouldn't be long, Sandor knew, until Ned would be able to eat normal food.

"Please, please Sandor!"

Sandor was happy to give the Little Bird what she asked for. He all but ripped the smallclothes from her top and descended on her breasts quickly. Sansa could not stop her desperate groan at the feeling and Sandor couldn't stop humming his appreciation against her nipple.

"So fucking good, Little Bird. So delicious. Yes, I missed these a lot." He paid the same attention to her other breast before kissing down her stomach.

"I missed your smooth skin against mine. You feel so good when I hold you, Sansa. I love feeling you against me. Nothing makes me happier than that."

"Sandor," she was sighing, "I love you."

"I love you, too, Little Bird." He smiled against her belly as he turned his attention lower. His teeth playing with the top of her smallclothes. "I missed your cunt. Missed how it tastes, how it feels around my fingers and my cock. I missed how it spasms when I make you come. I missed how wet you always are for me. Are you wet now, Little Bird? Do you need me to touch your cunt?"

"Gods, yes, my love! Stop teasing me, please, and touch me!" He tugged her smallclothes down her legs.

"You know I'll always give you what you need Little Bird," he chuckled as his mouth found her nub and his fingers found her folds. Fuck me, always so wet, and still so fucking tight!

He sucked Sansa's nub into his mouth vigorously and moved his two fingers inside her slow and deep.

"So wet for me. Always so wet for me. Only for me." Possessive dog, you know it's only for you.

"Forever, Sandor. Only you, for always!" He couldn't stop the growl that erupted from his throat then.

"I missed this, Little Bird. I missed feeling you from the inside this way. I missed hearing the sounds you make when I'm in you. I missed the way you thrash about. I missed looking up your body and seeing all of you, spread out for me this way, completely at my mercy and begging for me to give you pleasure. Gods, girl, you are fucking perfect." His mouth went back to work at her nub and he added a third finger, drawing a yelp of pleasure from his Little Bird.

"Yes, Sandor, please. I love when you talk to me this way. You're driving me crazy, my love, please, I need you."

"You have me, Little Bird," he chuckled against her mound.

"I need you inside me!"

"I am inside you," bad dog.

"Not your f-fingers, Gods! I need your cock!" Yes. She is getting so good at that. Sandor couldn't help but love hearing dirty words escaping from Sansa's mouth. She was still always such a perfect lady. He loved making her lose control this way.

"As you say, my lady," Sandor said as he drew his cock out of his smallclothes, then, and pulled them down and off.

He moved back up her body quickly, dragging one of her legs with him and throwing it over his shoulder. He entered his Little Bird easily.

Sandor loved that he didn't have to be so gentle with his Little Bird, anymore. He loved the familiarity of her body, of their bodies fitting together. He loved knowing what drove her over the edge and vice versa.

Home. Mine, he thought as he started thrusting hard. He needed her desperately, and could not take his time. He teased her enough, feeling himself harden with each kiss he gave her body. No more playing, dog.

"Yes, Sandor, harder!" Fuck I love this girl. My wife. Bugger me.

He grunted against the breast he had sucked back into his mouth as he started pounding into her body mercilessly. The bed bounced with his effort and the sound of their flesh slapping together was loud. Hope I don't wake Ned, he thought.

"More, Sandor, please!"

"Fuck, Little Bird, you're crazy," he laughed. He stopped his thrusting and grabbed her other knee, putting it over his shoulder. She grabbed his hips as he starting slamming into her again, deeper and harder than before, giving her what she asked for. So. Fucking. Deep. Fuck!

Sandor knew he couldn't last much longer. They were both desperate for completion, it had been so long. He was happy, though, when he felt Sansa's inner muscles start to flutter and tense around his cock as he plunged it in, again and again.

"Yes, Little Bird, come for me, I can't hold on much longer. Too long. So good." Sandor was grunting with his effort and his whole body had broken into a sweat. Sansa was whimpering and moving her body to meet his, thrust for thrust. Close, she's close. "Come on, come on."

After a few more thrusts, Sandor lost himself as he felt Sansa stiffen and cry out beneath him. He shot out his seed deep inside Sansa, loving the feeling and hoping it might take root. Sandor knew that Sansa wanted another baby, and he couldn't deny that he wanted it too. They would be safe in Winterfell soon enough. And Sandor wanted Ned to be an older brother. He would be kind and good and helpful and devoted to a younger brother or sister. Nothing like him. Nothing like Gregor. And Ned's perfection helped convince Sandor that no child of Sansa's could ever inherit any of his family's bad genes.

Sandor all but collapsed next to Sansa, pulling her on top of him, her head on his chest, her leg wrapped around his body. You're getting old, dog, he thought to himself as he waited for his breathing and his heart rate to return to normal.

"I love you, Little Bird," he sighed out, running his finger tips up and down her arm.

"I love you, too, Sandor. Gods, I missed that."

He chuckled at her, grunted, and fell asleep to the familiar rhythm of his wife's breathing in his arms.

Sansa was happier than she had ever been. Her family was almost whole and happy. The war had cost the Starks their father, mother, and Robb, but the rest of them were restored and Winterfell would be too. It was so much more perfect than Sansa could have ever hoped, especially after living through so much tragedy. And throughout it all, Sansa had Sandor and Ned. And soon another child. She had missed her moonblood and could already feel her body start to change during the last few weeks of their travel. She hadn't mentioned it to Sandor yet. She wanted to wait until they were home in Winterfell and a little more time had passed.

When they finally reached Winterfell, Sansa was impressed to see how unchanged Winterfell seemed. There had been men working there already for over a year, it was true, but Sansa had expected to find devastation. Instead, she saw that the castle itself was completely restored and the village around it was almost complete. She couldn't stop the tears that welled up in her eyes and rolled silently down her cheeks as she wandered the grounds she had left so long ago, when she was still a child. She was such a different person now, and being back in her childhood home made her think back on all she was and all she lost and how far she had come. She hated to think on it now, though, when she should be nothing but happy. Instead, she was angry at the child she had been in the past. Sandor was right, back then. I was a stupid little bird. No sense. No intelligence. And I helped cause so much pain. I don't deserve the life I have now. But I'll earn it all back. I'll rebuild this place. I will keep my people happy and healthy. I'll raise strong, smart, kind children with Sandor and it will help make up for every wrong I have ever done.

Sansa had left Sandor and Ned to explore the grounds, and she made her way back to them now, thinking of all the work she would need to do, and trying to remember how to be a proper lady who could run and manage a great castle. What you were raised to be. You can do this. All her thoughts flew from her mind, though, when she saw Sandor and Ned playing in the Great Hall. She couldn't help the smile that spread across her face while she watched her husband and son playing. Ned was standing up looking at his father, who was kneeling on the ground. Ned had his head cocked to the side. He moved his head to the other side, never breaking eye contact, and Sansa watched as Sandor mimicked him. Ned and Sandor kept this up a few more times, both of them looking very serious. Then Ned started to laugh, so brightly. He ran into Sandor, then, his arms stretched out to hug his father. Sandor was laughing too, and smiling as he caught his son, and stood with him in his arms.

Sandor must have sensed her looking at them at turned to look at her. His eyes were bright and content. I don't think I've ever seen him look at me with that much happiness in his eyes, she thought to herself.

"Are you happy, Little Bird?" he asked as he approached her, holding their giggling son.

"Yes, my love. I am happier than I ever thought I would be again. I can't believe all that has happened in the past few weeks, and that we are finally here. You brought me home, Sandor."

"Aye, I suppose I did, but not the way I thought I would. More like I came home with you, not so much brought you."

"Do you like it here, Sandor?"

"It's bloody cold here, Sansa. The direwolves haven't stopped running and howling since we arrived here, acting wild and crazy and making me want to drown them. Everyone keeps calling me "lord" no matter how much I growl at them. Calling Ned a little lord. And you, the lady you were always meant to be, finally. I know you, Little Bird. You are going to try to turn me into a fat, useless honorable fucking lord, and I don't think I can do that, girl. I was never made to be a lord. I don't know one buggering thing about running a castle. I know war, Little Bird. I'm afraid I'll disappoint you in this. I-"

"You could never disappoint me!"

"Don't interrupt me, I wasn't bloody finished! I'm afraid I'll disappoint you, but I know you will do well here. You were born to be here, Little Bird. And Ned too, I think.

I like these northern people well enough. Less like those southron idiots that prance around court. I like seeing you happy like this. Yes, Little Bird, I like it here. I like it here because I am with you. I would like any place, even the seven fucking hells, if you and Ned were there with me. I'll be a fucking lord for you, Little Bird, and Ned will be a lord after me. I never wanted to be one. I still don't. But at least I'm no fucking knight. And, who knows, with you doing all the work, might be I could learn some things from you. Might be I can help make this place less bloody stupid and full of fewer buggering fools." Sandor chuckled at the thought that he would ever be able to influence others that way, but he started to like the idea of having some power and control over the future he would leave for Ned.

Sansa listened to Sandor's speech and felt her heart soar. She knew Sandor would make a great lord and leader for Winterfell, even if he did not. We will be great and our children will be great after us. And with our enemies annihilated and with Jon and Arya ruling in the South, the world will be safe and good for our family. The Starks will stay strong and keep getting stronger. Sandor and I won't have to worry about the game of thrones ever again.

"I love you, so much. Everything I have, everything I am is thanks to you, Sandor. Truly, I don't believe I deserve any of it. But we have it and we will be happy."

"Aye, Little Bird, I think you might be right. So long as you and Ned are happy, I am too." He leaned in and kissed Sansa, gently then, and Ned took the opportunity to grab on to his mother. She took him and shifted him on her hip, hugging him close.

"Let's go up and help Ned pick out a room for himself. Then you and I need to start setting up a room close to ours for a nursery for the new baby." Sansa turned to leave the Great Hall, but Sandor grabbed her gently around her waist and pulled her back to him.

"You're pregnant again, Little Bird?" he asked, his eyes wide with hope and excitement.

"Yes, my love. At least one moon's turn passed already. It's still early and I did not want to tell you so soon, but I am so thrilled about everything and I want you to share it all with me."

"I fucking love you, Little Bird," Sandor couldn't help but laugh as he kissed his wife and clutched her stomach possessively, anxious for the time when he would feel his child growing there again.

"Yuv you!" Ned was squeaking from in between his parents, giggling at them.

"And we love you, beautiful boy," Sansa sighed, kissing her son's head and feeling Sandor hug them both closer. It is so good to be home, at last, she thought, knowing that this day would be the start of many excellent ones to come.

The end.