Life Is Not A Song, Sweetling

Fair warning: I have no real idea what this is supposed to be. The first few lines just popped into my head and I went with it. If you don't like Sansa and The Hound you might not like this even though it is in no way explicit or even romantic in any way.


The song of Sansa Stark and The Hound was not one of love and romance. It was not a song to be sung by epicene boys with harps in royal courts. It was a song sung in shadowy places. There were no shining knights and fair maidens. Only a boy king’s dog and a traitor’s daughter. And it was a song of something altogether darker, stranger and, ultimately, something nameless. Something hidden deep in the shadows of the soul.
It was a song that spoke of a beautiful young woman and a burned man, of looks shared across opulent halls. Of whispers and whimpers and secrets and feather light touches. Of hymns sung softly in the night while fires burn just outside. Of a stained and bloody white cloak left behind. Of running.
Life is not a song, sweetling.
A girl with auburn hair, and a head full of romantic ideas. Ideas that he didn’t fit. A man with no desire to be a knight, no desire for honor, who enjoyed only killing, the fire in his eyes a terrible irony. A man who became the closest thing she’d get to a knight from the songs.
Life is not a song, little bird.
A bird trapped in a cage, large and beautiful but with heavy iron bars. And the only one who could set the little bird free.