Chapter Text
The sound of wood striking against wood echoed in the bailey of Clegane Keep. Ten-year-olds Rickard Clegane and Jonos Redfort faced off against each other with their practice swords. They had been training together for a little more than a couple of months, but they took to their training with fierceness as both boys had become competitive against each other in almost all things. They had to be better than the other in running, jumping, fishing, fighting, juggling, cartwheels, singing, and standing on their heads while reciting every major house they had learned of in reverse alphabetical order. They had both grown and were becoming strong young boys.
Roslyn and Ashlyn, now seven, watched unenthusiastically from the sidelines with their governess, Septa Leona. They were much more interested in the new puppies in the kennels nearby. The youngest and newest Clegane, Duncan watched a little more interested than his sisters, but everything was interesting to the four-year-old being watched over closely by his Mother, chubbier than his siblings had all been at the same age. Sansa cooed over him and pressed kisses to his dark curls as he paid her no mind.
Rickon, Tybolt, and Lewyn watched Rickard and Jonos, speaking to each other in whispers about the match and calling out encouragements to the two boys.
Rickon, now seventeen, had become tall, just a hair over six foot, and had become both burly and handsome. He had grown his hair out and kept it tied back in the style of the Northmen. His skill as a fighter had only increased during the constant years of focused training, and at least once a month Rickon would drag Sandor and all of the other wards out to go fishing with him.
Tybolt Falwell had grown some, but at almost fourteen it was already obvious that he would not be nearly as tall as Rickon was or as Robert Arryn had become. With careful supervision he had eventually come out of his shell, but was still an introverted boy with cautious eyes and a mild voice. He was fine with a sword but excelled with the longer reach of a spear which he practiced against Lewyn.
And Lewyn Sand, a few months younger than Tybolt, had just had a growth spurt and was ending up tall and lithe like his grandfather. Lewyn was skilled with sword, spear, and bow, and in Sandors' opinion was well on his way to being one of the most skilled fighters in all of the Seven Kingdoms, with a keen interest in different forms of weaponry and his mastery of them.
Sandor watched with pride, not just proud of his own son but Jonos as well. He was proud of all of his boys. He was startled, however, when Maester Willym came up beside him and tapped him on the arm, handing off a letter to him that had just arrived. He opened it and read it over quickly, finding that it was from Robert, now Lord Arryn. Sansa came around from her spot to stand next to him and tried to glimpse the letter, but he held it away from her.
"Why are you smiling so widely?" She asked, a grin on her face.
He bent down and gave her a kiss, "It's a letter from Lord Arryn."
"What does he say?"
Sandor finally handed her the letter, "Read for yourself."
The news that it brought was significant, and did so boost his ego. It could have been so easy to just tell Sansa, but he enjoyed watching her as she read through the letter and finally got to the news herself.
"A son!" She exclaimed and laughed, smiling widely, "And Roberts' named him for you! Little Sandor Arryn."
"The heir of the Eyrie has been named for me," He grinned, "A high honor."
Sansa laughed, "Just as their words. He also says there's to be a tournament in honor of the birth. I wonder if King Robert will come."
"Of course the King will come to the tournament," He replied, "He loves tourneys and wouldn't refuse one, especially when he doesn't have to pay for it himself."
"I suppose we'll be going as well?"
"I'm not missing the chance to go and see the babe named for me. What kind of man would refuse?"
"The Gods would surely forbid it," Sansa replied, "For I know you would dote on him worse than your own children."
He laughed. Duncan giggled with him, but didn't know what they were laughing about.
They traveled along the Gold Road, arriving at King's Landing and staying only a day before pressing on to Rosby where they met up with Rohanne and their Mother who had been visiting her. Lord Aron and Rohanne had had a son - Tytos Santagar - named for Lord Blackwood. The boy was just over a year old now, and Sandor was happy to see his sister with the family that she had wanted. Their Mother had come out to Rosby to help her during her last months of pregnancy and had stayed on to help with the new baby, and he was glad to finally see her again as well, as they traveled together by Rosby Road to Maidenpool where they took a boat up the river to Darry and then on to the Crossroads.
Rickon separated from them and hired a boat to continue North along the Green Fork. He had become engaged - in Sandor's opinion it was an unfortunate match because it was with a Frey - and after a few years of being promised Rickon was finally to travel to the Twins to be married to the girl who was just a year younger than he was.
The rest of them continued on without Rickon, from the Crossroads they joined a larger group traveling the High Road, past the Bloody Gate, and finally arriving at the Gates of the Moon where King Roberts' Host had already arrived from King's Landing and the Arryn Household had already come down from the Eyrie.
The first person to sneak up on Sandor, however, was Lord Beric, grinning from ear to ear, "You've gotten fat."
He grumbled. It was only a little bit of weight, just enough to cushion his midsection, "You're still skinny as a switch," Sandor muttered in return.
Lord Beric laughed, "Aye. I've got a son now."
"Don't even try."
"His name's Harmen."
"No."
He laughed, "Don't get so riled. He's still just a babe. I'll send him to you in five or six years."
Sandor grumbled some more. They watched as a sea of banners continued to march their way up to the Gates of the Moon. He was glad that he didn't have to make the climb all the way up to the Eyrie.
"Are you going to joust this time?"
"No, I don't think I will."
Lord Beric turned to him, surprise plain on his face, "You're not?"
Sandor shook his head, "I've thought about it, at least. I'm getting old, and I don't think I'd survive another bash to the head like I had last time."
"Does it still bother you?"
He sighed, "Sometimes still get the headaches."
Lord Beric hummed in thought, "Five years... and it still ails you..."
"I suppose it must be what it is, unless this is something a man gets when he's older and nobody's bothered to warn me."
"I've never heard of that being common among older men, if it's of any use to you."
"It could have been worse. And the headaches aren't as bad as they had been the first year after it happened."
"Aye. I've heard of men becoming touched in the head after taking a knock to their noggins."
Sandor shrugged and changed topics, "There's not much gold in the purse. The winner of the tourney mostly gets the glory of it, and I at least have the honor of having the heir of the Eyrie named for me."
"That's almost like winning," Lord Beric laughed, "I suppose if it were a big fat purse you would be tempted."
"I took two wards and part of your winnings from your bet, didn't I?"
"Aye. And fine young lads they're becoming. The Falwell boy looks a lot better than he had before."
"Aye. Away from that sod that calls himself a Father. But Tybolt's grown well so far and trains as well as he can."
"Which of your lads are going to participate in the small tournament?"
"All except for Jonos and Rickard, they're too young. They can participate in the next one that comes up."
"Speaking of your wards, where is Ser Rickon?"
"He's gone up to the Twins. He's marrying some Frey girl."
Sansa had snuck up beside him and elbowed him in the ribs, "Della. And she's a nice girl."
"Must not be like the Freys then," Lord Beric commented.
Sandor shrugged, "I haven't met her. He's going to be bringing her here after they get married."
"Rickon plans on entering Roberts' service, and becoming part of the Arryn household at the Eyrie," Sansa supplied.
Robert and his wife, Bethany Blackwood, now Lady Arryn, sought him and his family out the first chance they could after visiting with the King and the other Blackwoods. Lady Arryn gingerly handed over the babe, though in the time it had taken for everyone to travel he was already almost a year old.
"He is a handsome babe," Sansa smiled. The boy was half asleep, having been in a bad mood until he could not longer stay awake.
To Sandor there was none that were so handsome a babe as Sandor Arryn, except for his own children, and he grinned at the sleeping child. He had never thought that he would have ever been the type of man to have had children named after him.
Sansa cooed over the boy, with his brown hair and blue eyes, and all the children clamored to see their second-cousin.
Little Sandor was upset the whole time, angry at every little thing and everyone he met except for the short time Sandor and Sansa had seen him when he had been tired and half asleep. There were many jokes that he was just as angry and disagreeable as his namesake, all while Robert and Bethany assured their guests that the boy was not usually like that, he was just overwhelmed by all of commotion going on around him.
The day before the tournament was to start proper they were reunited with Rickon and introduced to his new wife, Della. She was a little thing - a little shorter than average and slender, but she looked smaller when she stood next to Rickon's bulk.
When introductions had been exchanged Rickon had used some simple hand signs - explaining later that because she was deaf her family, both immediate and extended, had not put any time or effort into trying to communicate with her. When they had first met in King's Landing four years ago they had together come up with a few simple gestures and had further kept in touch through letters. Sandor couldn't have imagined what it would have been like if any of his four had been born deaf, and certainly couldn't imagine not even attempting to connect with any of them if they had been. It only lowered his already low opinion of the Freys in general and was glad to see that Della was comfortable with them enough to sit next to Sansa when Rickon rode in the joust when the tourney started the next day.
Rickon won his first run against a knight of House Mertyn and was unseated in his second run against Prince Edric. Robert fared only a little better, winning three of his runs but was unseated by Ser Loras. The jousts continued for three days before Ser Loras won, more than happy to receive praise and attention rather than a large sum.
There was of course other competitions, Archery, a Melee, and contests of Strength, though Sandor did not have a chance to see any of them as he was approached by the Spider with a smile on his face.
"I believe you owe me a favor."