by Deep Roller
A/N: While trying to write more San/San, this leapt unbidden into my brain. Pretty rough, but I sort of like it. These aren't my characters, they belong to George RR Martin and I make no profit.
"We're going to play knights, now," Joffrey dictated, placing a wooden sparring stick in his little brother's hand. He had been commanded by his mother to take Tommen to the deserted practice yard to keep the boy entertained and out of the way of the party saddling up for an afternoon hunt. Not trusting the two of them not to get up to mischief, Cersei had ordered Sandor Clegane to watch over the pair of them. The Hound stood off to the side, the sounds of their play drifting toward him.
"Hooray!" Tommen shouted, slashing at the air and pretending to parry, shouting challenges in as deep a voice as his four year old self could manage. At four, he was obsessed with knights and indulged almost embarassingly by his father and the training master alike.
"Not so fast, little brother," Joffrey said with a smirk, placing a hand on Tommen as he cantered by on an imaginary destrier. "I'll be the knight. YOU will be a marauding invader come to try and take my castle."
"But I want to be a knight too," Tommen pouted, his little sword clattering to the ground in his disappointment.
"I'm the oldest, and I'm going to be king someday. I'm the knight. That's how we play. If you don't want to play, I'll go and play with the Dog, and you can sit here by yourself."
"No, no! I'll play, I'll play Joff!" Tommen said hastily, picking up his sword and trying to appease his older brother.
"All right, I suppose you can play." Joffrey picked up his own stick and drew a line in the gravel of the stable yard. "You are a stinking vile filthy marauder, worse than a wildling, worse than ten wildlings. You cut off heads without even a second thought and drink the blood of your enemies. I am a brave knight sent out to stop you from breaking into the castle. This is the castle," he toed the line he had made with one boot. "You cross this line, and you win! If I knock you down, you lose."
"What do I win?"
"You...you get to be the knight next time."
"Okay! Let's play!"
Sandor shifted, leaning against a tree as he watched Joffrey dictate the rules of the game. He shook his head as Joff led Tommen to a spot on the ground and motioned him to stay put before stalking toward the "castle". Tommen dropped his sword and bent to pick it up as Joff came barreling into him.
"You lose!" Joff crowed, dusting himself off as Tommen sputtered and struggled to sit up.
"That wasn't fair, I wasn't ready to play!"
"The knight gets to attack first, didn't I tell you? He has the element of surprise. We'll play again. Get up."
"It's not fair that the knight gets the upper hand, Joff!" Tommen brushed gravel from his knees as he readied his sword, careful not to drop it again.
Sandor snorted, knowing truer words were never spoken than Tommen's. The game was quite unfair, of course, Joff had a nasty streak in him a mile wide, and Tommen was either too stupid to know better or extremely forgiving. Sandor wagered it was the first as he saw the younger boy's eager face, ready for another round of a game he would most definitely not be winning.
Joffrey rushed and tackled Tommen to the ground twice more, the younger boy's squeal of surprise at being hit reminiscent of a piglet on culling day. The third time Joff ran at him, Tommen dodged to the side, unbalancing Joff so that he nearly fell himself. Making a run for the castle, Tommen found himself beset by his older brother. Tommen flung his wooden stick out, trying to fend Joff off enough to cross the line. Joff growled and jabbed his own stick almost viciously into Tommen's back, causing him to fall.
"I don't want to play anymore," Tommen said sullenly, dropping his stick.
"Don't you want to be the knight?" Joffrey taunted. "Are you going to quit now?"
"It's no fun anymore, I'm not playing. Being the knight is stupid." A short, sharp sound made both boys turn their heads in the Hound's direction, but he looked back at them expressionlessly and they returned to their argument.
"We're playing again. I'm the older brother, I say when we stop playing," Joffrey said, using his height to intimidate Tommen. Tommen, however, was having none of it. Meeting Joffrey eye for eye, he shook his head resolutely.
"No, I'm done." The look that came to Joffrey's face as Tommen said that made the Hound's mouth twitch in what could have been a smile. It was the look of one whose fun comes in cruelty, and whose fun has just been taken from them. He knew the look well, as it had dwelt on Gregor's face now and again, when Gregor had not yet come up with a new way to torment someone. Good on you, boy, he thought of Tommen. Maybe now you'll see sense and leave off associating with Joffrey altogether.
Suddenly, Joffrey rushed Tommen again, pushing him onto his stomach and then kneeling on his back. Tommen yelped as his face ploughed into the gravel and Joffrey seized Tommen's left hand. "YOU are not done until I SAY you are done," Joffrey growled, bending Tommen's wrist back with every word. Tommen began to sob, pleading with Joffrey to stop. "Knights don't cry! You want to be a knight? You're not a knight, you're a pathetic crying BABY." Though he was furious, there was a kind of calm to Joffrey's manner that was frightening.
"Stop! Stop! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'll do whatever you want, oh stop!" Tommen cried, kicking his legs feebly against the weight on his back. Joffrey grinned, pulling his brother's hand back inexorably as he pretended not to hear Tommen's crying.
It all happened quite fast. One moment, the Hound was standing idly by, and the next he had two fistfuls of Joffrey's shirt and had lifted the boy into the air. Joffrey's shout of frightened protest was cut short by a shake that jostled his neck forward and back. All he could do was tremble in the Hound's grasp.
"Unhand me! I'll tell the guards," Joffrey said unsteadily, flinching when the Hound laughed in his face.
"The guards? Boy, I AM your guard." He set Joffrey down and knelt to be level with him. When Joffrey would look away, the Hound pulled sharply on the boy's ear to turn his gaze back. "Hear me, and know what I say is the truth. If I ever, EVER," he pulled on Joff's ear again to punctuate his words, "see, hear of, or catch scent of you harming your brother or your sister, I will kill you. Oh, when you see me coming to get you, you'll call out for help. Your father's men'll come and arrest me. They'll do me harm, probably even kill me, but your neck'd be snapped before they even arrive. Or perhaps your throat cut. Do you understand me?"
Joffrey nodded, frightened tears leaking from his eyes. Another vicious shake prompted him to say "I understand." meekly. Clegane knew he did, knew that with his eyes rolling in terror and a spreading wetness in his breeches, the prince would take their little conversation to heart. Releasing Joffrey from his grasp, the Hound gave him a hard shove that sent Joff sprawling. Picking himself up, Joffrey dashed out of the stable yard without saying another word.
Tommen was still face down on the ground. His wrist was afire and he was too stunned to move. When he heard the Hound's footsteps get nearer, he froze in terror. "Up," the Hound said, lifting the boy effortlessly to his feet with far more gentleness than he had afforded Joffrey. Tommen's face was covered in gravel dust, he had small bloody scrapes on his face, elbows and knees where he had hit the gravel, and he was cradling his wrist in his good hand.
The Hound held out a hand, and when Tommen looked from the Hound's outstretched hand to his face in complete befuddlement, Clegane gestured impatiently toward Tommen's own hand. Suddenly understanding, Tommen timidly stretched out his wrist, which was bent at an odd angle. The Hound turned Tommen's hand this way and that, looking up when the boy gasped in pain.
"Tell your mother and the maester that you fell off your pony, or out of a tree, or some damn thing," he said with a low growl. "And tell me if anything ever happens again." Tommen just looked up at the Hound with wide round eyes, cradling his wrist in his good hand. "What the hell are you staring at?" Sandor snapped, making a shooing gesture. Tommen turned and ran away, gritting his teeth with every step.
Turning, Clegane kicked gravel over the castle line and then strolled casualy through the stable yard. He cared not if Joffrey went tattling to his royal parents about the threats, it would just give Sandor an excuse to make good on them.