Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and elements from A Song of Ice and Fire belong to George R.R. Martin. No copyright infringement is intended.

Joffrey was so handsome in his hunting greens. Sansa just knew he would be the one to kill the white hart. And it was so courteous of him to bid her farewell. She'd hoped he would; she'd dressed in her best blue silks today and made sure her morning walk carried her past the royal stables where the men of the court were preparing to leave.

"I'll bring back the beast for you to feast on, my lady," he told her gallantly.

"I have something to bring you luck, my lord," Sansa said shyly. She had stayed up half the night deciding whether to give him her grey and white ribbon since those were the colors of her House, or her favorite blue one that everyone said looked beautiful in her hair.

Her prince smiled and tucked the ribbon into his tunic. "I'll dream of you every night," he promised. Then he bowed and took his leave of her.

Sansa watched him mount his horse, releasing the happy sigh she'd barely held back before. Arya used to complain and demand to go too whenever Father took the boys hunting back home and Sansa had always thought her sister was silly. But she had to admit it would be nice to go and watch Joffrey bring down the prize stag. She could just imagine how handsome he would look as he dedicated the kill to her.

Rough laughter jarred her out of her daydream and Sansa realized that the Hound was still standing there, watching her. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment even though she hadn't done anything wrong and it was unkind of him to laugh at her. She wanted to hurry to the top of the castle wall so she could watch the royal party ride away, but the Hound was Joffrey's sworn shield so Sansa had to be courteous to him.

"I was pleased to see you win the tourney, my lord," she said, remembering how he'd saved Ser Loras from his wicked brother Ser Gregor.

He snorted. "Save your breath, pretty little liar. You're disappointed Tyrell didn't win and give you another rose."

Sansa didn't know how to reply to that so she ignored it. "I pray you have good luck on the hunt."

He seized her chin and made her look up at his terribly scarred face. "Don't I get a favor too?"

Sansa hadn't thought he would want one. And she wasn't sure it would be proper to give him one. "I…I'm sorry."

He chuckled and released her. "I'll take this one." He snatched her ribbon from her hair.

It was her favorite ribbon, but it wouldn't be ladylike to demand its return, even if he didn't scare her, so she simply said, "I hope it brings you lots of luck."

He scowled and abruptly walked away. Sansa sighed with relief. She hoped he didn't kill the white hart.