The day they met was simple. Beric walked in, tray of glasses in hand when he casually mentioned her for the first time. "That new girl starts today."
The hound groaned. New people were tricky in his eyes, They stared at him, asked awkward questions and generally bothered him. The last two guys they hired ran for the hills once the hound snapped at them. But in his defense, what kid names himself Lem?
"I ain't training her!" He stubbornly exclaimed to his boss as he carried a keg across the bar floor. The towering 6"6 man had no trouble carrying these heavy items,
Clegane men were build like bulls with muscles from birth. Every one in the bar loved watching him change the kegs, even those scared of him would watch the event, each keg would weigh 160 pounds but he managed it.
Beric laughed at him, "Have some faith Clegane, you might like this one."
Outside Sansa Stark stood in front of the establishment, gathering the nerves to enter. The bar, 'The Brotherhood' looked old, rustic with a manly aura about it.
Her interview here had been nice, Beric and Thoros, or Thor he liked to be named, were the owners and didn't ask to many questions and treated her nicely despite her nerves. They ended the interview telling her she had the job, claimed they would 'make a brother of her'. But now she was here for a first shift and the ease they had made her feel was long gone. What if they didn't like her? She was often told her shy naive nature annoyed some, why would the people in here be any different?
She shallowed, remembering that this was probably only temorary and pushed through the large wooden doors.
She walked into a large room, styled like an old Cabaret hall with an vintage style stage with thick red curtains with a gold trim hanging over, adding a splash of colour to the different shades of brown that filled the room, small chairs and booths faced the stage with matching red velvet. To her side sat a large L shaped bar looking upon an empty square. The room flooded with light from tall, thin windows that the filled the walls, reflecting shimmers from the Victorian style Chandelier that hung in the center of the ceiling.
In the center of the square stood a man. His figure instantly caught her attention. Tall, sturdy and far larger then her own covered in a loose fitted shirt and some scuffed up jeans. He commanded the room. His eyes met her and she saw it. The large pink scar travelling from his forehead to his cheek, cutting his thick brow in half. Dispite this Her eyes never left his, finding them cold but curious of her. She finally broke from their odd staring competition to pull her long ginger hair behind her ear.
"Sansa!" Beric called over from the other side of the bar, shaking her back to reality. She only noticed then that the entier staff was gathered, numerous glass collectors, a few bar maids and bar men along with Beric, Thoros and the tall scarred man. Beric had a plain black eye patch while he wore a blue blazer and matching pants with creased dress shirt, Thoros wore similar but has his salt and pepper hair in a tight man bun. The staff, besides the large man, wore all black like Sansa. The simple uniform suited Sansa, darker colours looked better on her.
"Hello sir." She replied sheepishly. She walked over to him, tense as all eyes watched her cross the square, crossing only feet from the tall man, close enough to get a wave of his brooding aura. A large blush reddened her pale freckled cheeks as she felt the large mans eyes on her.
"Pardon me everyone!" Beric shouted loudly when she reached him, as if all eyes weren't already on her. "This is Sansa Stark! She will be replacing Lyanna as our warm up singer while she goes and has her baby!"
The small crowed nodded in agreement, obviously liking this Lyanna, some girls gushing about the unborn baby.
"Treat her nicely, she will help out behind the bar and she's asked for no pictures of her online." Sansa cringed, that made her sound like some weirdo who hates technology. But she tried to hide her embarrassment with a small but fake smile. "Get back to work."
The girls that worked there were nice, all starting conversations with her. They gave her warm smiles and asked about her. She gave short but sweet answers, only elaborating on the things she was happy to share, like her age, name and favorite colour. Sansa was great at diverting attention from her and quickly turned the girls back to gushing over this unborn baby from earlier.
The male bartenders were equally as chatty, some flirty as well but she could divert that too. After a hour of meeting people she got to work, memorizing the drinks list at the bar. The large man grumbled from behind the bar, carrying heavy kegs and keeping himself busy and seemingly as far away from her as possible, he was the only one hadn't greeted her at all, besides their looks when she walked in.
"Finding everything okay?" Asked a voice behind her. Anguy, or Guy, joined her in the seat next to her.
"Yes I am, thank you." Sansa replied shyly, her small smile coming back.
"You're a polite one, ain't ya'?" He said as he childishly spun on the bar stool. He had a thick northern accent, much like Sansa's but less refined.
"There is nothing wrong with that." She replied playfully, feeling more at ease then when she entered.
"Certainly not milady." He mocked. "I can't wait to hear you swear though."
She chuckled. "You will be waiting a long time then." He leaned his head closer to her and gestured towards the large man.
"Ten minutes with the Hound and you'll sound like the dirtiest pirate in town."
"The Hound?" She asked shocked.
"The big one, Sandor Clegane." He casually explained. "Most of the words out of his mouth would make a whore blush."
"The 'Hound' isn't a nice nickname." She muttered, but Guy picked up what she said. They paused as the large man, now named Sandor, came closer to go into the stores
behind the bar they sat at, he never once gave them eye contact, just angrily glared at nothing. Sansa could see where a brutish nickname like that came from but the name was cruel anyway.
"He calls himself it luv', apparently he got in while in the armed forces, only lets Beric call him anything else, and that's because Beric give him his pay check." Guy stood up, still smiling. "I should get to work, before Beric takes my pay check away. Let me know if you need me lass."
"Will do." Sansa replied.
And before Guy made his way out, he turned to her. "And don't bother asking about the scar, he'll never tell you." He then casually strolled off, leaving Sansa confused.
Her interest in the man was spiked, he was almost as mysterious as her, and his past was seeming to be as bitter as her own. The look he gave her as she entered, his brooding aura and his cold demeanor were things that made her wonder about him more then she should. She always did like a good mystery and he seemed like one wrapped
in an enigma. But she deepy knew that she'd never get to know him, a month and she'd probably have to run again. She once again felt low and tense.
This was not helped but the loud shouting that suddently echoed through the bar.
"Fuck off Beric! I already said I wouldn't bloody train her!" The hound's voice rang loud from the store room in the back, where it seemed he was having a heated argument with his boss. You couldn't hear Beric's reply but you could tell The Hound didn't like it.
"Don't give me that shit! I don't want to babysit some little song bird!" The Hound's retort made Sansa sink in her seat. All the staff on the floor looked at her with pity, knowing The Hound obviously didn't like her. Sansa wanted the world to swallow her up, or to run or both. She tried to pretend to read the drinks list but was too immersed in the argument to read.
"Don't you DARE hold that against me you bastard! You know that was an accident!" He bellowed again. The staff tried to look busy when really they were interested as Sansa. A thump was heard from the store room.
"Fine! But don't expect me to be nice!" And this was followed by thunderous footsteps and Sandor appearing from the back. Everyone in the room was staring at him but he only looked at Sansa who was the closest. She blushed at him and looked away. He obviously hated her but still looked her dead in the eye with curiosity.
He then noticed the room. As he made his way from behind the bar and shouted to the room.
"Fuck off the lot of ya'"
Beric told her that Sandor would be training her behind the bar shortly after his encounter with Clegane, after she opened for the band tonight. He told her they often did shows, not bands but 'The Maisters' were pretty popular so they were expecting a big turn out that night. The hound steered clear of her, although his anger wasn't hard to hear, constantly cursing at every little irritation. Singing to a crowd never bothered Sansa, it was talking to them that bothered her. But her heart hammered at the thought of The Hound watching her sing, probably judging her every note, hating her more with every word. He didn't seem like the musical type.
Sansa found solitude behind the stage, setting up her equipment for Her solo. She'd planned to sing her own rendition of Elvis' 'I can't help falling in love with you', in a more sultry way to suit the cabaret setting. She's changed into a small black dress and tights, she never liked dressing up. She didn't normally sing love songs, but wanted to show her bosses she wasn't as sad as most of the regular songs she sang. Love songs reminded her of her youthful lust for falling love, getting married and having children with the man of her dreams; Love songs hurt her heart.
Sansa placed the guitar on her lap and strummed some random chords, lost in thought. If Sandor Clegane didn't enter each room like a hurricane Sansa might have not noticed him, but his towering frame blocked the door frame and his loud, steel capped boots announced his arrival. In the dim light of the room, his shaggy hair and shadow covered his scar, making only his piercing eyes noticeable. He was in his late twenties, but handsome. Sansa was shocked at admitting he was handsome, she normally like neat, posh boys with groomed hair and nice smiles. But look where that got her.
"Your Guitar is out of tune." He grumpily spat out. He moved from the door way towards the storage boxes in the corner.
"I know." She quietly replied, looking down at her feet. "I'm about to tune it."
"I'd buy a better one." He retorted, shifting through the boxes, looking for something.
"I borrowed it." Sansa admitted, quietly tuning each string. She played from a young age and could tune any guitar with ear plugs in.
"Aye, What king of singer doesn't own her own bloody guitar?" He asked gruffly, turning to her.
"I-I lost my old one." She lied. Her old guitar had been smashed the night she ran away.
"What kind of Idiot loses a bloody guitar?" He huffed still rummaging through the boxes.
"For someone who obviously doesn't want to know me, you ask a lot of questions." She snapped. She didn't care for being called an idiot, she was smart, slow at times but she could take care of herself. Her ex called her an idiot constantly. The Hound stiffened. In a single motion he turned to face her again.
"Oi, I'd watch that tone with me, I was being civil." He warned, his half brow in a tight thrown. Sansa glared back, angry at this man. He hated her with no reason.
"Calling me an idiot is civil?" She fired back. She had mustered some unknown confidence from deep inside and stood her ground against this hulk of a man, but she felt it fade fast. When she stood up for herself in the past it never went well, she learned submission was easier and less painful in the long run.
"I could have called you a lot worse, Little bird" He snapped. She noticed the slight change to the nickname he gave her from the argument. It was sweet, and made her heart flutter; even though was obviously meant to patronize her. She broke his gaze and looked at her hands.
"I don't like it." She muttered, her last of ounce of definance.
Clegane paused. Sansa's face had crumpled into a sad frown, her long ginger locks hiding her blushing cheeks as she hunched over the guitar. Maybe he had been harsh on her. Her retorts showed she wasn't the little girl that would annoy him, she hadn't stared at his scar, only his eyes and he heard her talking about how cruel his nickname was with that fuckwit Guy. He made his way over to offer his hand in apology. But when he brought his hand out she flinched.
All remorse left him. She was like everyone else, scared of big bad scarred Hound with his ugly scars and ugly face. He pulled his hand back sharply.
"I see how it is." He turned on his heel, picked up the box he was looking for and stormed out. Sansa looked at the fleeting man, unsure where his anger had stemmed from. She went back to tuning her guitar alone, trying to push Sandor Clegane from her thoughts. But obviously couldn't.
Hi! First SanSan fic! Sandor is as described in the books but other then that it is all understandable to show watchers only! Thank you! 3 Don't forget to vote and add!