Sandor felt a shiver down his neck as he saw a brick fall some meters next to Arya. The girl did not seem to be surprised by it. She continued to walk just a few steps before him, as they were making their way into the Red Keep. He could not help but feel excitation overwhelming his heart as he realized he was getting closer to Gregor. Killing him had been the only thing he had thought about on the road to King's Landing. They had managed to defeat the Dead. Arya had killed their fucking King. And now, now that the threat had been destroyed, that everyone was able to start his miserable life again, The Hound had only thought about how he would end his brother's one.
He knew Arya wanted to kill the Queen. At least, it was a praiseworthy choice. He knew her enough to tell that once Cersei would cross the Stark girl's path, she would not have a good time at all. But when they had reached the gates leading to the city, they saw the fear and agitation reaching all the faces around them. Quickly, they had heard a loud and strident cry coming from the sky, the kind of noise that makes you want to hide in a hole and never leave it.
A dragon.
Sandor and Arya had managed to make their way toward the Red Keep. Everything around them was screams, tears and cries of fear, but they did not stop. The price was too big. Although he had assumed that the Targaryen girl - the one everyone called the « Dragon Queen » back in Winterfell - and her allies would try to invade the capital, he did not know what was the exact plan. But, deep down, Sandor knew something was wrong. And then, he saw it.
Smoke and Fire.
It was coming from the sky, and the large and dark smoke was far away from them, but he knew it was only a question of minutes before the creature would fly over their heads. They had to hurry.
By chance, they had reached the Keep as quick as possible. Sandor knew perfectly its halls and stairs, the result of a long time serving as King Joffrey's main soldier. All of this seemed to have happened an eternity ago. But all these years of run only made him even hateful, all these days without any trace of happiness had led him just right here, in King's Landing, the city he had sworn to leave beside him forever. But killing Gregor was his only goal now, no matter the war outside, the screams, the dragon raging fire over an entire city. He could not think about anything else.
They remained silent as they were climbing one of the stairs, but they felt a loud and powerful vibration crossing its stones, making them shake as if they were nothing but leaves. They shared a glance as they both understood what was happening. The dragon was attacking the Keep. They fastened their steps, reaching the third floor, hoping they would find the Queen and the Mountain around the royal apartments.
But as they were crossing the main room leading to another stair, Sandor stopped. Everything was falling apart around them, and even if Arya was just behind him, he could tell she was thinking about the exact same thing. The structure would collapse anytime now. Not that he cared about it, but he could not help but think about the annoying young girl who was now looking at him with inquisitive eyes.
Your fucking life is already done, Clegane, Sandor thought. Not hers.
"Go home, girl," he said as he observed the gaping roof, "fire will get her, or one of the Dothraki, or maybe that dragon will eat her. It doesn't matter, she's dead." He turned over her and saw incomprehension in her face. "And you'll be dead too if you don't get out of here," he added.
"I'm going to kill her", the girl said as she tried to get ahead of him with a resolute pace. He firmly took her arm before she could escape.
He knew she wanted to kill the Queen. She was on her bloody list, one of the only thing Arya had clung to since her father's execution on the Capitol. Once more, so many things had happened since then.
"You think you've wanted revenge a long time? I've been after it all my life," he growled. "It's all I care about." Arya was already trying to find a way to get off his grip. Sandor yelled at her to look at him. He had to convince her. She did not deserve to die for a bloody bitch who had been cunning enough to be declared Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
"Do you wanna be like me?" he asked. Her eyes were locked on his, and all the emotions he read in them stroke his mind. He put his left hand right behind her neck to force her to keep still and listen to what he had to say.
"You come with me, you die here," he added. For once, he was not talking harshly. He really wanted her to be safe, that was all he had ever cared about, to look after this little girl, to protect her, no matter the price. She was a Stark, she was clever, strong and violent, he knew she was a killer, but she did not have to end like him. He saw her sad look on him, and let go of her. He had never been good with human emotions. The only ones he perfectly knew were hatred and anger. He had seen men and women being sad, but never for him. And now, as he was making his way out of the room, he knew he would never forget Arya's sad blue eyes. This was farewell.
"Sandor."
He stopped as he realized she had called him by his name. Not "Hound", not "Clegane", not "Dog". Sandor. He felt her hand holding his arm.
"Please don't go," she said. Her voice was shaking and he could see that the emotion he had seen had not left her eyes. He firmly moved his arm away from her hand. No one could make him change his mind. He had to kill Gregor, and he was ready to die for it. After all, that was everything his life was meant for.
"Please!" Arya yelled. "Please listen to me!"
Although Sandor felt the urge to jostle her, he could not help but feel the need to hear what she had to say as well, so he turned back.
"I am sure there is another way," she stated, a glint of hope sparkling in her eyes. He chuckled cynically.
"Another way? You want me to give up on him? He is everything I despite the most, he is my worst nightmares and my sweetest dreams at the same time. I am going to kill this cunt, and you won't convince me to act differently."
"You really think you deserve to die for him?"
"It doesn't matter what I think."
"Alright then. Don't go after him."
"Fuck you," he grunted as he turned over and continued his walk.
"I won't let you go there alone."
"Why do you care so much? I told you to leave, now don't force me to hurt you."
"You won't hurt me."
Of course, he would not. But right now, his blood was boiling through his veins. This girl was definitely stubborn. He had to find a way to make her leave this fucking place. As he was about to yell at her once more and to make her pay for this, he felt the ground resonate under his feet. Before he could see it coming, a dozen of stones fell from the roof right in front of him, and he let out a rumble when he realized that one of them had hit Arya's head.
"Arya!"
Without a thought, he jumped over the pile to get to her. The violence of the collision had put her on her knees, her hands against the ground. He could hear her gasps of shock as he reached her. She slowly put her hand on her head before looking at the scarlett liquid flowing over it. Sandor was used to see blood. He knew head wounds were the worst, but he could tell that this one was far from being superficial. He tried to talk to her and to get her attention, but she was not here anymore. Although her eyes were wide open, they seemed empty. She lifted her head to meet his gaze, and he felt his heart race as he saw blood escaping from her nostrils.
Seven hells.
He lifted her as if she was made of paper and managed to bring her in one corner of the room, hoping it would hold on.
"Arya," he called her as he slapped her jaws to bring her back to the moment. Blood was running over her face and the vision was alarming, but he saw her eyes glint once again. He could hear her breathing intensify as she looked around her. She did not seem to know where she was.
For the first time of his life, Sandor cursed himself for caring so much. He took her in his arms and hurried in one of the stairs that he knew would lead to the streets. As he ran, he felt his arms hold tight on the girl he was caring. Why did he have to pay attention to such a fucking girl? Why did she have to try to convince him? Now, a fucking stone had fallen on her head, and if he did not find a way to help her, she would die just like that. But most of all, Sandor knew each step he was making was taking him away from the Mountain. And although he was incapable to explain it, helping Arya Stark had now become his first priority.
This is my first Fiction on Game of Thrones. Yeah I know, the show just ended. But I was kind of disappointed on Sandor's fate (this and one or two other aspects...). I do not know if many people will read this, but I needed to write it. Review please!
