Sansa could not let what happened at the bread riots slip from her mind. She had come to dwell on it, every smell, every touch, everything. She had wanted to help those men who held her down. But they hated her, hated everything she was.
Shae had told her they had hated her because she was everything they would never have. Shae had not left her side since she was returned back to her room and insisted on pampering her like a doll, not that Sansa minded or even noticed. Every quiet moment transported and dumped her back into that alleyway where those men had hunted her down like a dog. She could not escape it, her mind wouldn't let her. She could also not forget the only one who had come to save her, the Hound.
She had heard the maids gossip concerning the whole incident of how the Hound had gone to rescue her without any command from the Lannisters, in fact practically against the King's orders. The maids had giggled with each other as though they had been hinting at a secret relationship between the King's dog and the King's betrothed. Shae had found Sansa listening and insisted they take a walk before Sansa could hear any more of the current whispers. Sansa had felt nauseated, this gossip would only fuel the King's anger, dousing any chance of Sansa escaping with her head on her shoulders. She would no longer only be a traitor from House Stark, she would now be the Stark whore as well who opened her legs for man and beast.
Panic had slowly crept in. She knew that Joffrey could care less about her well being but she had figured her life was safe in the capital. Yet, Joffrey had made no attempt to send help for her. But the Hound, he had gone on his own to find her. Perhaps out of the goodness of his heart. The thought alone prompted Sansa to release a small giggle. Shae looked up from brushing her hair and peered at Sansa through the mirror, raising her eyebrow.
"What is so funny?" Shae asked running the brush through Sansa's auburn hair in rough, short strokes. Sansa had become used to the pain of Shae's less than nimble fingers. In fact all the ways Shae did things were… peculiar. Sansa had wondered more than once of how Shae had come to serve Sansa, the foreign girl clearly had never done this sort of thing before.
"Nothing." Sansa mumbled toward hers and Shae's reflection. Shae huffed in response and continued brushing, clearly irritated but not prying any further. Sansa desperately wanted to talk to Shae but experience had proven that silence was her best option at staying alive. It was not that she did not trust Shae, she did, probably more so than anyone else but she could not be too careful.
Joffrey had only summoned Sansa to the Great Hall once in the week after the whole incident. The bar on her door had been removed long ago so when Ser Meryn Trant had entered her chambers, Shae had been dressing Sansa for a stroll in the godswood. Sansa's stomach had dropped knowing what Trant required from her. She had quickly clutched at the fabric around her, desperate for anything to cover her from his beady eyes that were roaming over her body. He smiled, his yellow teeth poking out from behind his cracked lips.
"Nothing I haven't seen before, little girl" He ran his finger down her arm and Sansa was sure to be sick all over his cloak, one that did not appear very white up close. Sansa crept away from his touch and he smiled once more before leaving the room and taking his post outside her door awaiting her to finish dressing. Shae helped to put Sansa's hair up in the courtly fashion and picked out a pale blue gown to finish her look. Sansa dressed and composed herself in a calm manner, aware to make sure that nothing cracked the innocent look that she effortlessly gave off. As Meryn Trant led her to the King, his disgusting fingers laid on her bare skin, but even that could not distract her as she had become sure that she was walking to her execution. The King must have heard the rumors of the supposed affair between her and the Hound.
Joffrey looked as pleased as ever sitting in his throne guarded by men who would lay down their lives to protect the boy king. Sansa had never noticed before but Joffrey seemed much smaller sitting in his iron throne made up of swords of the past greats, a title that would never be bestowed upon Joffrey. Yet, her eyes wandered quickly to the Hound who stood in his normal place besides Joffrey. He kept his eyes forward even as she continued to watch him. Just as she was about to turn her eyes back toward the King, his gaze flicked over to hers and she flushed and darted her eyes away, fully aware that she had been caught staring.
As soon as Joffrey noticed the new arrival in the throne room, he grinned and leaned back in his chair crossing his dainty feet before him. Ser Meryn left her side and gifted the King with his crossbow which Joffrey set gingerly down in his lap. "Lady Sansa, you look lovely today" Joffrey practically bounced up and down from his excitement. Sansa kept her eyes downward as she felt sweat gather at the back of her neck. His excitement had never been a good sign of what was to come.
"Thank you, your grace. You look very handsome today as well." Sansa recited, hoping to boost his ego so he would leave her alone.
"Only today?" He asked, his fingers evidently itching to reach for the crossbow laid in his lap. Sansa had to keep the whimper from escaping her throat. She knew that Joffrey fed off her misery and pain and would go to great lengths to get just that.
"My King looks handsome every day. I only meant to say that your grace looks especially so today. Forgive me, your grace. I am a stupid girl" Sansa was surprised of how she spoke her words with effortless ease. She knew Joffrey was so much a child that he would believe that her misspoken mistake would only be because it left the mouth of a brainless maiden.
"Of course, my lady." His smile only grew to a cocky grin as he fixed the crown that grazed the top of his head. She wished he knew how ridiculous he appeared to others. He looked like a little boy playing dress up with his father's clothes. "Now, Lady Sansa I am sure you have heard the disgusting rumors surrounding you and my dog." He motioned for the Hound to step forward as he spoke.
Sansa stopped breathing. Her eyes locked on the Hound's and he seemed as surprised as she did at the King's sudden change of subject. Yet, he did as commanded and stepped forward erasing any prior emotion. Sansa could do nothing besides watch the Hound's quick movements and at once he stood between her and the King. Her eyes did not leave his and he watched her with the same blank expression he held before.
I'm going to die… I'm going to die today.
Joffrey broke the moment between her and the Hound and made a noise similar to a giggle. She could hear him load his cross bow, "So Lady Sansa, have you been the bitch to my hound?"
Panic overtook her, she dropped to her knees in front of the Hound, "No, your grace! I would never! I love you, your grace. You are my one true love. I would never!" She found herself repeating as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
Her answer did not seem to satisfy Joffrey, as he stood from his seat in between Sansa and the Hound. "Maybe I should spill your pretty little guts all over the throne room" He smiled peering at her through one eye as he raised the crossbow to her head. She began to sob, unable to control the unladylike noises that erupted through her as he stepped closer to her.
Then at once, he dropped the crossbow. "Mother wouldn't like if I killed you but you will be checked for your maidenhead, Lady Sansa. If you have been tarnished, nothing will protect you from my wrath." Sansa took a deep breath of air as her heart threatened to erupt from her body. "That will be all, Lady Sansa." He returned to his throne and plopped down in his oversized chair once more, clearly bored with her presence and seeking new things to torture.
"Hound, escort my lady back to her room. Be sure to take care of her in all regards." Joffrey smiled as the Hound gripped her arm and pulled her to her feet before walking briskly in front of her. He didn't even look back to see if she would follow behind him.
Sansa was having difficulty maintaining her balance, she still could hardly breathe and the panic that the king set in her was hard to shake off so quickly. Sansa realized the Hound was waiting for her to follow him and she was hit with a new wave of confusion by the King's words. Why would he have the Hound escort her even though the rumor surrounded him as well? She was too tired to think any more on the matter and turned to follow the Hound out of the throne room, relieved to leave Joffrey however she could.
She followed slowly behind him, careful not to make any noise that would anger the Hound. Guilt was eating at her. Guilt for what? She did not know. But she felt she must say something to him. To thank him for saving her? For not letting those men rape her? He had only saved her from those men to deposit her back into the arms of the worst of them all. Joffrey would do much worse to her, that she was sure of. Yet, the Hound seemed to care about her, she had no idea why. Perhaps he did care for her the way a man does a woman. She cursed herself internally at the thought of being tainted once more by her old false beliefs of the world, of true love, and knights and maidens.
The tension between them was palpable as he continued to walk in front of her, obviously awaiting the moment he was rid of her and could return to the King's side. Sansa opened her mouth to begin to say something when the Hound suddenly turned around to face her.
"Say it, girl. Whatever you have been trying to say, say it for gods sake!" He sneered at her, his head shaking from side to side while he looked over her head.
"Ser-" She began to speak only to be interrupted.
"Not a ser." He snapped at her before taking large steps toward her closing the distance between them. Sansa instinctively backed up from this imposing man who was now close enough that she could see the scars on his face with such precision and perfection that she could practically trace the grooves and ridges in his skin. He seemed displeased that she was watching him as he let out a large huff before backing away from her and turning to go.
"Wait!" She cleared her throat, fully aware of her inappropriate and unseemly behavior as a lady. Yet, she had his attention as he stopped dead in his tracks and turned toward her, impatient and uncaring.
"I wanted to thank you." He seemed confused by her words so she stumbled through her clarification. "For saving me during the… that day." Her eyes focused on a red mark on the floor until his feet covered where she had been looking. She brought her yes to his and for once, she saw him not as the Hound but as a person stuck exactly where she was, seeking to escape just as much as she did. "You came for me when no one else would. I owe you a great deal."
She watched his eyes narrow and then widen in his surprise. He seemed unaware of how to respond and for once, Sansa felt at ease around him. He was not as scary as he seemed and Sansa stepped closer to him feeling bold and empowered by his reaction to her words. She reached out slowly and placed her hand lightly upon the scars on his cheek, aware of the slight jump at her touch. Nothing ever felt more appropriate than in this minute and without a second thought, she leaned forward and placed her lips upon his.