Sandor Clegane. Their story is not finished, of that I’m absolutely certain. He makes an appearance in practically every one of Sansa’s chapters, whether in person or in her thoughts.
Strong hands grasped her by the shoulders, and for a moment Sansa thought it was her father, but when she turned, it was the burned face of Sandor Clegane looking down at her, his mouth twisted in a terrible mockery of a smile.“You are shaking, girl,” he said, his voice rasping. “Do I frighten you so much?”
He did, and had since she had first laid eyes on the ruin that fire had made of his face, though it seemed to her now that he was not half so terrifying as the other.
This is their first encounter with each other - and Sansa confuses him with her father before she turns to see him. The burn scars disfiguring his face frighten her, but not as much as Ilyn Payne (the “other”) does. This itself is an interesting point. From the outside, Ilyn Payne is not scarred in any way, not like the Hound. It’s his eyes that frighten her, his expression - that, and Lady growls a warning - but she doesn’t feel the same fear looking at the Hound. Noticing Sansa’s fright, Cersei dispatches Joffrey over to rescue his betrothed, and he promptly dismisses the Hound. But as Joffrey proposes riding out alone with Sansa she asks, “Is it safe to leave him [The Hound] behind?”
From this scene begin the associations of Sandor with Lady, which cannot be ignored in any attempt to analyze his relationship with Sansa. The first occurrence is when she and Joffrey ride out that same afternoon, leaving “her direwolf and his bodyguard behind.” Septa Mordane scolds Sansa for feeding Lady under the table; later, Tywin says of Sandor that you “feed your dog bones under the table, you do not seat him beside you on the high bench.” Robert Baratheon, when Lady is sentenced, tells Ned that a direwolf is no pet for a young girl. “Get her a dog,” he says, “She’ll be happier for it.” At the Fingers, Sansa looks down at the blind dog beside her and says “you sad old hound,” and then dreams of Sandor in bed with her. And, of course, in the infamous Blackwater scene, Sansa stares in terror at the wildfire blazing over the bay and wishes out loud for Lady - and Sandor stirs in the darkness behind her, right on cue (we’ll examine Blackwater soon).
Let’s return to the tournament Robert holds for Ned, in which Sandor rides against Jaime.
The Hound leaned forward as he rode, his lance rock steady, but Jaime shifted his seat deftly in the instant before impact. Clegane’s point was turned harmlessly against the golden shield with the lion blazon, while his own hit square. Wood shattered, and the Hound reeled, fighting to keep his seat. Sansa gasped. A ragged cheer went up from the commons…This time, when Jaime shifted his seat, Sandor Clegane shifted with him. Both lances exploded, and by the time the splinters had settled, a riderless blood bay was trotting off in search of grass while Ser Jaime Lannister rolled in the dirt, golden and dented.
Sansa said, “I knew the Hound would win.”
This is after her first meeting with Sandor, when he spills out the story of his scars and then threatens to kill her (not his finest moment, although he doesn’t have many). It’s interesting to note that Sansa does not join in with the crowd’s cheers for Jaime, who is golden and handsome, talented with a sword and lance alike, practically her perfect knight (aside from the troubling matter of being a Kingslayer, which the crowd overlooks). She alone gasps for Sandor when he is nearly unseated - note that this is from Ned’s point of view, not her own. The fact that Ned notices suggests that this is unexpected to him, especially from the daughter who loved all things shining and beautiful. Soon after, when the Hound steps in to rescue Loras Tyrell from the Mountain, Sansa recognizes him to be the champion of the tournament even before Ned does - she wants him to succeed. His story has permanently affected her take on him, enough that Ned himself is struck by it.
“When the axes smash down those doors, you may be glad of [Ilyn Payne].”
I would be gladder if it were the Hound, Sansa thought. Harsh as he was, she did not believe Sandor Clegane would let any harm come to her.
This quote comes directly prior to the Blackwater scene in Sansa’s chambers, when she and Cersei, along with the other “hens,” are waiting out the battle together. Cersei indicates Payne as their intended protector, and Sansa’s mind immediately jumps to the man she’d much rather have by her side. He has already rescued her numerous times before, cutting his way to her side during the bread riots when no one else would have taken the risk, interceding to spare her Joffrey’s wrath, even teaching her how to produce a believable lie.
And then we have the controversial Blackwater encounter between the Hound and his little bird.
"I could keep you safe," he rasped. "They're all afraid of me. No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them." He yanked her closer, and for a moment she thought he meant to kiss her. He was too strong to fight. She closed her eyes, wanting it to be over, but nothing happened. "Still can't bear to look, can you?" she heard him say. He gave her arm a hard wrench, pulling her around and shoving her down onto the bed. "I'll have that song. Florian and Jonquil, you said." His dagger was out, poised at her throat. "Sing, little bird. Sing for your little life."
Her throat was dry and tight with fear, and every song she had ever known had fled from her mind.
Neither of them is clear-headed here. Sandor is drunk off his mind, high on adrenaline from the butchery outside, and reeling from the absolute terror of seeing the wildfire consume everything in its path. He found his way to Sansa’s chambers looking for the soothing kindness she always had to offer, and thinking to finally offer her something in return: “I could keep you safe.” He could, and he would, but before she can respond Sandor pulls her closer to him. Sansa is confused into thinking he’s about to plant a kiss upon her, while he just wants to see if she trusts him yet, if she could look beyond his scars to possibly see him as a protector, as someone who just wants her safe and happy. And when her eyes close, he misinterprets the action and reacts with unbridled rage. Still can’t bear to look, can you? Remember that Sansa is incredibly young, has just flowered, just wants this kiss to be over - she doesn’t know what to do, or how to handle the situation. Sandor never sought her out with the intention of harming her, nor would he have. He’s desperate to have his pain understood, to make her understand how empty the songs she loves really are, just as useless as his childhood dreams were to him. When her eyes close he loses the assurance, however faint, that someone saw him as more than just a monster, and he can’t handle the rejection from the one person he thought might accept him for who and what he is. When she sings a hymn he lets her up; her innocence and faith stand the test of his fury, and he emerges a chastened man, quieted. She cups his cheek, feeling the blood and tears mingling on his face, and he rises away, rips off the bloodstained Kingsguard cloak, and walks out.
I wish the Hound were here. The night of the battle, Sandor Clegane had come to her chambers to take her from the city, but Sansa had refused. Sometimes she lay awake at night, wondering if she’d been wise. She had his stained white cloak hidden in a cedar chest beneath her summer silks. She could not say why she’d kept it. The Hound had turned craven, she heard it said; at the height of the battle, he got so drunk the Imp had to take his men. But Sansa understood. She knew the secret of his burned face. It was only the fire he feared. That night, the wildfire had set the river itself ablaze, and filled the very air with green flame. Even in the castle, Sansa had been afraid. Outside… she could scarcely imagine it.
The above is from A Storm of Swords, when Sansa is faced with the prospect of meeting Margaery for the first time and wants the Hound by her side, despite him knowing little and less about social niceties and introductions to future queens. This passage is important, especially because it clarifies the Blackwater scene before Sansa adds in the Unkiss. She recognizes the reasons for his behavior, the consuming fear he must have felt and the cause behind it. Without him dogging her footsteps she has time to reflect, and in doing so Sansa edits her memory of the scene in her chambers to include a kiss. In a way it makes the perfect song - the raging battle outside, the flames cresting over the water, and a beautiful girl kissed by the battle-weary soldier come to take her away - except that it’s a hollow fiction. Sandor’s insistence that she see the world for what it is falls beneath the shadow of Sansa’s desire to make her life a song, and she adds him into that fantasy.
It would have been easy to write off Sansa’s relationship with him up until that point as a simple crush. G.R.R.M. has insisted that the makers of Sandor’s bust make him “more handsome,” we’ve already seen Sansa think to herself that the rage in his eyes is far more fearsome than his scars, and he was the only person in King’s Landing to look out for her without an ulterior motive - he had nothing to gain from helping her, and did regardless. But she continues to think of him long after he’s gone - there’s scarcely a single Sansa chapter in which she doesn’t remember Sandor Clegane. She develops a habit of comparing him to nearly every man she comes across, and he usually comes out favorably:
Of late Ser Osmund had taken Sandor Clegane’s place by Joffrey’s side, and Sansa had heard the women at the washing well saying he was as strong as the Hound, only younger and faster. If that was so, she wondered why she had never once heard of these Kettleblacks before Ser Osmund was named to the Kingsguard.
One of the most interesting aspects of their story, however, is the marital undertone throughout it. To discuss this, it’s important to remember two things: firstly, that Sandor is significantly younger in the books than he is portrayed in the show (late twenties in the books); and secondly, that G.R.R.M. had initially intended to age his characters five years. Throughout Sansa’s later chapters, there’s a recurrence of the idea that innocence and experience make for a good marriage - this is planted in her mind by Littlefinger, and crops up more than once. Like as not, Littlefinger is referring to himself here, but Sansa has been linked to men somewhat older than her before (Willas Tyrell, Tyrion, etc.). Sandor’s age is incredibly significant in the books; he’s young enough to want to start over after ending up on the Quiet Isle, still strong enough to make it happen.
Perhaps the saddest part of Sansa’s story is that despite having dreamed of a fairytale wedding all her life, every offer of marriage - and her eventual wedding - all disappoint her. Joffrey is nothing like the prince of her dreams, despite painting the perfect picture; Willas Tyrell is crippled and an unknown quantity; Tyrion is a Lannister, and a whoring, heavily-drinking dwarf. From the start, she has never exercised any agency in this regard - Ned sacrificed her to a betrothal he knew would bring her nothing but misery, just to keep his personal agenda hidden from the Lannisters (and Robert), and after his death the Lannisters and Tyrells attempt to use her for her claim to the North.
The bride's cloak he held was huge and heavy, crimson velvet richly worked with lions and bordered with gold satin and rubies. No one had thought to bring a stool, however, and Tyrion stood a foot and a half shorter than his bride. As he moved behind her, Sansa felt a sharp tug on her skirt. He wants me to kneel, she realized, blushing. She was mortified. It was not supposed to be this way. She had dreamed of her wedding a thousand times, and always she had pictured how her betrothed would stand behind her tall and strong, sweep the cloak of his protection over her shoulders, and tenderly kiss her cheek as he leaned forward to fasten the clasp.
She felt another tug at her skirt, more insistent. I won't. Why should I spare his feelings, when no one cares about mine?
This scene is vital to Sansa’s development as a character after the loss of her family. She’s been forced into standing before a septon, tears streaming down her face as she stands wrapped in her father’s colors, waiting for a man from the House responsible for butchering her family to wed her - and she’s refusing, publicly, to cooperate.
Sansa is not in a position to openly lash out against her captors, but she will not kneel. She will not accept a cloak from Tyrion, whom she does not wish to marry.
Previously, when Joffrey summons her to court and has her savagely beaten for Robb’s daring to challenge his rule, Tyrion intervenes and the following exchange takes place:
Sandor Clegane unfastened his cloak and tossed it at her. Sansa clutched it against her chest, fists bunched hard in the white wool. The coarse weave was scratchy against her skin, but no velvet had ever felt so fine.
And then, the night of the Battle of the Blackwater, Sandor drops his bloodstained Kingsguard cloak on the floor of Sansa’s chambers before leaving.
When she crawled out of bed, long moments later, she was alone. She found his cloak on the floor, twisted up tight, the white wool stained by blood and fire. The sky outside was darker by then, with only a few pale green ghosts dancing against the stars. A chill wind was blowing, banging the shutters. Sansa was cold. She shook out the torn cloak and huddled beneath it on the floor, shivering.
These two instances are particularly interesting. The bloodstained white cloak is a recurring motif in Sansa’s relationship with Sandor, and we twice see her accepting a cloak from him. Neither time does he drape it across her shoulders, neither time does he force her to take it. “No velvet had ever felt so fine,” she thinks of the “scratchy” and “coarse” material; and when he leaves her for the last time that night, she crouches beneath his cloak for warmth and security, despite having blankets on her bed. And then she keeps the cloak, hiding it in a chest of her silken dresses. While Tyrion’s cloak for her is “huge and heavy, crimson velvet worked richly with lions,” she infinitely prefers the stained white wool Sandor leaves her - she chooses it. Even after he terrifies her, after he lashes out in fear and rage (none of which is condonable - a large part of their story together is how she ultimately drives him to pursue a better version of himself, e.g. the Quiet Isle), she understands him, she sees him as a safe haven.
Sandor Clegane cantered briskly through the gates astride Sansa’s chestnut courser. The girl was seated behind, both arms tight around the Hound’s chest.
Plot-wise this quote is again a step back, but during the bread riots in King’s Landing we see Sansa holding onto him, a Lannister Kingsguard, with both hands. Neither of them is truly able to let the other go; the Hound brings Sansa up constantly while he’s gallivanting about Westeros with Arya in his hopeless bid to ransom her to her family and join Robb’s army (a noble notion that a certain little bird was probably responsible for), and Sansa scarcely has a chapter go by without him appearing in it.
Sansa was raised with two religions, the Seven of her southron mother and her father’s Old Gods. In the North, a marriage ceremony is fairly simple - it takes place before a heart tree, the couple exchanges cloaks, a few moments of silent prayer are observed, and the bride and her intended are wed. It’s far simpler than the elaborate ceremonies in the south, and Sansa seems to be constructing an abbreviated version of a marriage for herself here. She accepts a cloak from Sandor twice, once to preserve her modesty and once to preserve her spirit. She imagines a kiss between them, and later adds him into her bridal bed. She thinks of him and his words constantly, wonders how he would have felt about Joffrey’s death and wants him when she’s confronted with Margaery Tyrell.
The Ashford Tournament theory is quite a fascinating link to Sansa’s own list of suitors (and potential suitors), but with the twist that every man in the list who approaches her is a pretender of some sort. For a quick reference, the five champions at the Ashford tourney were Lyonel Baratheon, Leo Tyrell, Tybolt Lannister, Humphrey Hardyng, and Valarr Targaryen. Sansa has already been linked to most of these in a marital context. It’s fair to speculate that Aegon Targaryen may bring her a suit as well - and clues within the series suggest he is a Blackfyre, not a true Targaryen. However, in the original tourney, Prince Aerion Targaryen assaults Tanselle - when Dunk strikes him to defend her, the tournament is canceled and a Trial of the Seven is held instead, in which Dunk emerges victorious despite not being a knight. There are three characters in the novels believed to be his descendants, and two are not knights: Brienne of Tarth, and - you guessed it. It’s quite possible that someone of Dunk’s line will upend whatever alliance Sansa’s wedding is attempting to forge; since Brienne is currently leading Jaime deeper into the Riverlands, all signs indicate Sandor, who’s much closer to the Vale. Sandor was also present for Littlefinger’s betrayal of Ned in King’s Landing, and may be the one to illuminate Sansa.
Sandor is far from the beautiful prince she had once dreamed of, but time and time again Sansa has overturned exquisite things to find rot and decay beneath; in this case, she peels him apart to find something valuable beneath the bitter fury and the terrible scars. He’s her fierce protector, her loyal companion, and she is the only saving grace in his life. Her prayer for him to be “saved” and “gentled” seems to be taking some sort of fruit in the Quiet Isle, and it would be surprising if they do not meet again.
(She also dwells a hilarious amount on the “rasp” of his voice.)