You arrived at the arena later than everyone else. Joffrey demanded a tournament on his nameday every year. There weren't any seats left so you stood next to Sandor Clegane, otherwise known as the Hound. He was Joffrey's personal guard, without Sandor you were sure the people of King's Landing would have tried to assassinate the prince, he was a vile young man.
"Not competing this year?" You asked Sandor, never taking your eyes off of the competitors down below. You made eye contact with a knight who was traveling through King's Landing when he heard about the tourney. You overheard Varys and Littlefinger talking about him with the whores, they all hoped that he would pay for a night with them. Personally, you couldn't figure out what they saw in him. You were never one to like a pretty boy, you prefer masculine men.
"Joffrey pissed off half the Keep preparing for taday. Betta stay close." Sandor grunted back.
Before you could respond, a horn blew to signify the beginning of the joust. You recognized some of the knights from the Kingsguard. It was Pretty Boy's turn when he rode up to the stands with a rose in hand. You caught his eye as he leaned on the side of the gate, motioning the rose in your direction. You ran forward and accepted the rose as not to be rude. When you retook your place next to Sandor he gave an arrogant snort.
"What?" You were annoyed by his reaction. "It's bad luck to deny a knight." You put on your best arrogant face but the Hound saw right through.
"Aye, 'tis. Didn't think you were one to bear false witness." He looked up at the joust.
"What do you mean, false witness?" Now he offended you.
Instead of answering, Sandor continued to watch the match. Pretty Boy had defeated one of the newest knights on the King's Guard and approached mid-field to hear the reward for his valiant efforts.
"Ser Eyan of house Waynwood, is it?" King Robert bellowed from the top of the stands.
"Indeed, Your Grace." Ser Eyan responded, bowing his head. His voice was higher than you expected, that sealed it. You loved when a man had a deep bass tone. You tried to poke fun of the knight to Sandor but when you turned to face him, he was gone. Looking out into the rest of the stands you realize he left. The audience was starting to disperse. You left the arena as quickly as possible, hoping to run into the Hound on the way. Your attention was caught by the sound of armor clanging behind you when you realized Eyan Waynwood was prancing towards you.
"M'lady." He bowed his head respectfully. He was out of breath with a light gleam of sweat across his brow. Up close he wasn't so bad to look at but you still weren't attracted to him. You curtsied.
"Congratulations on your victory, my lord." He did put on a good show and you always give credit where credit was due. "I pray you enjoy yourself at the feast." You turned to go find Sandor, when you felt his hand lightly grab your elbow.
"Actually, m'lady, I was hoping you would accompany me to the feast. I will be seated at the head table with my fellow victors. I would be honored to have you by my side." Shit, he was chivalrous. How could you turn him down now? Eyan will be gone by the morrow and forget all about the fair maiden of King's Landing.
"I would be honored, my lord." With that, he continued past you into the Keep.
--
Night had fallen over King's Landing and the Great Hall was booming with cheers and drunken carryings on. The meal, as always, had been grandiose. Seated at the head table with you and Ser Waynwood were the four other victors, King Robert, Queen Cersei, Prince Joffrey, Princess Myrcella, and Prince Tommen. King Robert had given a slurred speech about chivalry and honor, you were busy scanning the room for the Hound. You felt Ser Eyan's eyes on you as you searched. You finally found him in the back corner of the hall when Eyan stepped in your line of vision.
'M'lady." He extended his hand, requesting a dance. You hadn't noticed the bards enter and soon the room was filled with music and every man, woman and child was up and cascading around gleefully. You weren't much of a dancer and weren't a fan of making a mockery of yourself.
"Unfortunately, you would find I have no grace on the dance floor, my lord." Trying your hardest to refuse his request politely. He scowled at your rejection.
"Drink. I'm off to piss. When I return, we shall dance. Do you think the boy prince would be happy if I told him you disrespected his jousting champion?" The stench of ale on his breath was nauseating. He filled your goblet with wine and left for the loo. The corner that once held Sandor was now vacant. You drank from your goblet and figured you'd try to make the best of the night.
You wandered around the perimeter of the Great Hall still looking for Clegane. You already knew what you were going to say. You were going to demand an explanation for his rudeness earlier and hear his excuses as to why he was actively avoiding you. You poured yourself another goblet of wine when a surly voice behind you made you jump, spilling some wine on yourself in the process.
"Where's that womanly knight of yers?" Sandor had a large mug in one hand and a pitcher in the other. He was pouring himself another helping of ale when he noticed your spill. "Betta change that and soak it." You could tell he was a little drunk but there was something else there. Melancholy, perhaps?
"Why have you been avoiding me?" The wine gave you a new level of confidence.
"I 'aven't been avoidin' ya! I've-"
"Oh, you have been! I went looking for you after the tourney and all before supper." You cut him off.
"Shouldn't you be entertainin' that champion of yours, little bear?"
"Little bear?" You didn't appreciate the arrogance in his tone.
"M'lady! I 'ave returned to you." Pretty Boy had found his way back from the toilet and was barely coherent at this point. His voice was even higher pitch than usual and he was shouting for all the hall to hear. He was carrying a wineskin and forced you to drink. You tried to refuse and ended up sputtering more wine on yourself. "You've spilled wine on your dress, daft woman, I will assist you in discarding your garment. Come! Lead me to your bed, m'lady! I won you." Eyan reached forward and took your arm rather aggressively. You heard Sandor drop his mug and pitcher as he quickly stood up behind you.
"Take yer hands off 'er, ya drunken cunt." Sandor grabbed his wrist, you noticed his grip tighten when Eyan refused to let go. "Alright then." With that, the Hound headbutted Ser Eyan Waynwood, knocking him unconscious. He immediately picked you up and left the Great Hall.
--
The sound of the celebration was fading behind you as Sandor made his way through the Keep. His silence was broken when he finally set you down in front of a door.
"In." He demanded as he pushed the door open. The room was a decent size, bigger than yours at home. The only furniture was a bed, a chest and table set. The Hound sat himself at the end of the bed. You now realized he brought you to his chambers.
"Why?" His voice had startled you once again as he broke your focus of surveying his room.
"Why, what?" You responded. The somber look in his eyes was back but this time there was another underlying emotion.
"Why 'im? Why did ya accept 'is rose? Why did ya go with 'im tonight?" Anger rose along with the volume of his voice. He got up and headed over to pour himself a drink from the table where another pitcher and mug were sitting.
"It's bad luck to deny-"
"Oh, piss off!" He shouted at you.
"Why little bear?" You asked after a few moments. He chuckled and turned to face you.
"Yer worried about the name I gave ya and not the fucking knight that damn near tried ta rape ya? Maybe I should call ya little ass." He said with a chuckle.
"I was handling myself just fine! You didn't-" You tried to defend.
"Yeah, ya were just fine, though he nearly drowned ya with wine." Now you were annoyed that he kept interrupting you.
"Why do you care?!" You shouted. The Hound brought himself up to full height before he approached you.
"Why?" You looked from his eyes to his lips. He noticed your stare and smirked.
"Why do you care?" He said mockingly. You huffed annoyed and turned to leave. For Sandor's size, he was quick. He slammed the door shut again before you could even open it half way. He left his hand on the door and hovered over you.
"Tell me why." The last goblet of wine had kicked in and amplified your courage ten fold. Sandor couldn't take his eyes off your lips. You grabbed at the edge of his armor and pulled yourself towards him.
"Say it." You said in almost a whisper before his lips crashed into yours. You seized the back of his neck and pulled yourself closer into him as his hands found your waist. The dance your mouths made was synchronized yet erratic, soft yet intense. A heat began to fill your core and a daze began to fill your head. You tugged at his armor, hinting to remove it. Sandor complied, breaking the seal that you had made with your lips. After his chest plate and shoulder armor was removed, he looked into your eyes and lovingly wrapped you in his arms placing his forehead softly against yours.
"I want ya all to myself, little bear." You rested your head against his chest and could hear his heart pounding rapidly. After listening to it drum for a few moments you caught his gaze once more.
"Then take me." His deep brown eyes dilated in response and Sandor had a feral gleam in his eye. He reconnected your kiss just as passionately as before. He grabbed the back of your thighs and hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. The light squeeze he gave your ass made you moan slightly. He chuckled and moved his kisses across your face to your neck.
"Are ya sure about this, lass? Once yer in my bed you belong to me." He asked breathily into your ear. His scruff tickled your neck and only adding to the arousal.
"I want you, Sandor Clegane. Make me yours."
A/N: Willing to do a part 2 with this! By request
