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Alone On Christmas? Mad At Dad?

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December 24 cont.

“Where did I go wrong?” Lysa wailed. Her husband was trying to be soothing, but she was too deep in her misery and fourth martini for it to be effective. “Viserys was too obsessed with dragons. Ramsay turned out to be a gay, bondage freak. Willas, also gay, and in love with a Martell. Smalljon had nothing in common with her and made sexual advances before their food even arrived. Joffrey was just as bad, except he berated her in front of the entire restaurant for being a ‘tease’ and a ‘bitch’ when they had only known each other ten minutes!”

“Sansa seems happy with this Sandor, different as they are,” Thoros said. She stared at him.

“But he's so wrong for her! She's so beautiful and adorable and he's... not. She could have famous singers, A-listers, even princes begging to have her, and this...this... Sandor? He's low born. A felon. A greasy tin spoon to her porcelain tea set.”

“That's a bit harsh, Lysa love. He's not a bad man. He treats her well, has a steady income and is good for conversation. Try spending some time with him. You'll see,” Thoros said, kissing her on the forehead.

Lysa sulked for the next few hours, but finally joined the family when her son arrived home. Robin had been touring Lys on a school sponsored art tour, and was full of wild tales. He was also enchanted with Clegane the moment he set eyes on him, declaring that he must paint this specimen of masculinity along with his dear cousin, the height of femininity. “It will be the perfect yin and yang for my winter break project!” he declared.

Lysa watched with an open mind as the huge scarred man interacted with her family. She had been having doubts about Harry when she saw him flirting with some of the maids before Sansa's arrival. Then there was the odd job titles. She should have known they were too fancy to be true. The man worked for Petyr Baelish, for crying out loud. Lysa had learned long ago to not trust him, even if he was a profitable businessman. She should have known that Harry would pick up some of his more unscrupulous behaviors. She couldn’t forget his close minded views on religion either, or his previously unmentioned children.

A father! He’s a father! Of two little girls. If my math is right, the first one was born when he was just sixteen years old. How did I not know of that? And drunk driving? This Sandor might have had a problem with drinking, but he was never stupid enough to drink and drive. Ned had shown her his file on both men, and it had been an eyeopener.

I suppose that… maybe I was riding high off of my previous matchmaking successes, she considered to herself. And I may have been a bit lax when I suggested those other men to Sansa because of that. She watched her niece whispering to the scarred man. She was glowing. They both were. And I suppose I may have judged Clegane based off his looks, convinced as I was of how perfect Harry was. She sighed. I suppose Sandor Clegane is actually a pretty good match.

“Sansa, Sandor. Upon further reflection, I give my blessing of your relationship,” Lysa said suddenly, causing everyone around to look at her.

“Um, thank you?” Sansa said, a slightly confused smile on her face. “We, um… We have something to tell you, Aunt Lysa. You see--”

“You see,” Clegane interrupted. “I have something I want to ask Sansa, if you will all indulge me.”

Lysa’s eyes went wide as Clegane got down on one knee in front of Sansa. The others were whispering to each other in awe. “Oh my…” she whispered as Thoros slid to her side and wrapped his arms around her. “Did you know?” she asked him. He shook his head.

“Sansa Stark,” Clegane said, bringing out a comically large ring box. “Will you…” He opened the box to reveal a candy gemstone on a plastic ring, “Will you date me? And only me?”

Lysa didn’t quite understand why everyone cheered (except Arya, who rolled her eyes) when Sansa yelled Yes! and launched herself at Clegane, kissing him furiously, but if they wanted to make their relationship exclusive in such an odd fashion, who was she to judge?

Fin