_CH1_
Sandor took long strides down the castles long hallways. He stood at least a foot taller than everyone he strode past, his heavy armor clinked with his every step and his white, knights cloak billowed behind him. Everyone he passed had the common sense to get out of his way, his destination was near. He was glad that the boy king sent him for the little bird instead of those shit knights that would beat her his hackles raised. He stopped abrupltly and loudly rapped on her door, it shook on its hinges, after a moment a dark haired handmaiden peeked her head through the door, she scrunched up her comely face. "What do you want hound?" Shea asked reproachfully. The Hound easily pushed past her, hunching his head to pass through the low doorway and ignored her squeals of protest."The king sent me for the little bird" he growled, his tone filled with annoyance.
Sansa looked up at the hound with fear in her eyes. What did Joffrey want now? she asked herself, maybe to have her beaten again, or force her to look at her father's impaled head again. She had her chance to kill him she remembered, she would have done it too, if his dog hadn't stopped her just one push away...
"His grace wants to break his fast with you, he sent me to fetch you." the Hound's voice was gruff like usual, his voice like metal against metal. Shea angrily commented "Why you?" the hound turned to her as if struck "Who would you prefer exactly?" he snarled. He was right, the Hound had been the only one that hadn't harmed Sansa at Kings Landing he had even saved her for getting savagely raped by three men during the riot.
The Hound came not a second too early as an enraged, starving peasant struck her hard in the face knocking her to the ground, they forced her legs apart as she tried her hardest to struggle and fight, she painfully remembered. Then he came. He pulled the dirty disheveled man off of her just as he had flopped out his semi flaccid penis.
The Hound had cut open the rapists in an instant her attackers intestines slid out make a sickeningly smacking sound as they sloshed onto the floor, she recalled she was perversely happy that he suffered. As much as the Hound scared her with his massive, overwhelming frame, harsh words and terribly scarred face he had been her savior of sorts, a true knight as much as he hated being called one.