DISCLAIMER: Characters are GRRM's and his alone.
Written for the sansa-sandor LJ community commentfic meme in response to the prompt "A moment of intimacy in a crowded/public place."
Sometimes, as a form of punishment, the king made her sit just in front of him, at his right hand. A place of honor for his betrothed, he called it, yet he only ever bid her do so on days when he meant to mete out the worst punishments to those who dared defy him...so Sansa knew better.
Several months had passed before she noted the Hound watching her. Watching her as she approached, and when she turned her back on him his eyes bored into her from behind. Sometimes, on the days she felt most brave, Sansa met his gaze. Inevitably, when she did so his lip would twitch, but he never looked away first. It was always her who did so.
Always.
For some time she wondered why...but then she decided to stop wondering. It must have been the day that she realized she actually liked the way he looked at her. It was not leering, not like the looks so many other men at court gave her now that her dresses no longer fit properly. Often she sensed amusement in the way he watched her, but sometimes there was something more, something she did not quite understand, could not quite place. An intimacy, maybe, but where it came from or why she enjoyed it, Sansa could not say.
Yet the weight of his eyes on the back of her neck was often the only thing that kept her sane during those long days at court, when Joffrey forced her to watch as he took men's tongues or fingers or had Ser Meryn or Ser Boros beat them senseless.
And Sansa found herself meeting his gaze more and more often, losing herself in those angry gray eyes and taking some of his courage for herself.
Joffrey could make her look, make her watch, but he could not make her see. She had learned that long ago, but it was the Hound who - unknowingly, of course - showed her just how far she could take it.
Yet something changed between them, the day of the riot. She watched him abandon his duty to the king to slice off the arm of the man who wanted to pull her from her horse, felt him swing up behind her and lock her safely between his own strong arms, arms like bands of steel on either side of her, holding her in place, holding her steady. She could feel the hungry eyes of the commoners watching the king's betrothed and the king's dog on this horse as it picked its way through the crowd, back to the Red Keep, and so she was surprised - shocked, really - when the Hound bent his head against her trembling shoulder and pressed his lips to her neck for all to see.
Sansa knew that she should be disturbed just then, yet she could not find that feeling in herself...so instead she leaned back into the Hound's embrace and wondered if the tale of his kiss would ever make it back to Joffrey's ears, or if those who'd seen it would keep quiet for fear of this man.
Her protector.