Chapter One: The Fucking Window

"Get up,"

The Hound looked up dozily at the thin, girlish figure looming over him at the side of the bed with her hands on her hips.

"Get up, you've been sleeping for too long and I've been awake for hours listening all night to your fucking. Tell your whore to get out."

He turned to the girl who was still asleep beside him and shook her roughly, "Get up." He said and tugged sharply on her hair before turning his attention back to the little wolf bitch. The whore yelped and sat up, startled and scowling.

"The fuck I need to wake up for you?" His pounding head and the taste of his own stale vomit in his mouth reminded him of the night prior. Of course he'd drank too much again. As always. It was a wonder that he'd managed to still end up in his own bed.

"We're going." She stated bluntly. The wolf bitch narrowed her eyes and leaned in over him. "Now."

She tossed a bundle of coins to the disheveled woman who was hurrying to dress herself. A fairly large bundle of coins, considering the lousy fuck she'd been. He remembered that much at least from his night of drinking.

"For your troubles." She said.

Sandor twitched at the remark. Even though her face was stoic, he could tell she was mocking him.

Once the woman had slipped out the door the two faced each other once again. Sandor propped himself up on his elbows and glared at the girl in front of him. Oh, how she loved to fuck with him endlessly.

"What in seven hells girl-"

"Get dressed," She threw his clothes from the floor into his face. He tensed.

So bloody close, girl.

"What the fuck is going on?!" He yelled, raising himself out of bed a little too quickly, and felt a wave of nausea pass over him. He laid back down and swallowed bile. The pup stared at him as she fastened her sword belt and grimaced.

"Maybe if you weren't busy drunk-fucking and puking and swearing and ignoring me every time I tried to tell you we were being watched you would know that we have people here looking for us. Your little whore probably just gave us away, actually. I heard men mention our names last night and now two of them are going around to every room at the inn, knocking on all the doors. We have to leave. Right. Now."

Sandor forced himself from the bed, struggling to keep himself from vomiting as he wordlessly slipped on his trousers and tunic. The she-wolf really wasn't that bad to have around he hated to admit, but she was proving to be quite a sharp and observant little bugger, and not a bad killer at that either. They heard voices outside the door of their room. Arya moved closer to the door and slowly began to draw her sword. The hound grabbed her wrist suddenly and yanked her away. She was an idiot if she thought they were going to make a scene in the middle of a busy inn like that. They were leaving out the fucking window.

"We're leaving out the fucking window." He hissed. Maybe not so sharp then. "You may think you can take on ten men on your own, girl, but you're still just a scrawny little kid."

She resisted his grip, "I'm 17."

Sandor laughed sharply. He yanked her again, harder, and she stumbled backwards into his chest.

"Like I said, you're a kid. I could break your spine with one hand." He scoffed.

The pup regained her balance and shoved herself off of him, grunting. Shooting him a look of contempt, she pushed her sword back into its sheath. "Fine. The fucking window."

But, before they even reached the window there was a knock at the door followed by the gruff voice of a man. "Oy, open up there!" He called, barely giving the two of them a chance to react before he opened the door himself and stepped into the room with three other men clad in the armour of the kingsmen. Lannister soldiers.

"You said there were only two of them." Mumbled Sandor to the girl as he drew his own sword and pulled her behind him. "Well, fuck it. Screw the fucking window. Stay behind me."

"Take the dog, kill the bitch." Ordered the soldier in charge. Sandor's eyes widened momentarily. Why would they be coming to take him and not the Stark girl?

The men, knowing that they'd found who they'd been looking for, unsheathed their swords and moved to attack. Sandor wore no armour, though he was still quite a large and intimidating opponent without it, and the men hesitated to strike him as they closed in, giving him the opportunity to strike first. He quickly stabbed one of them hard in the belly before he could even lift his sword and tore to the right, spilling his insides from him and slashing the man beside him as well, though not as fatally. The others lunged towards him with their swords at the ready. He ducked under the first man's swing and tripped him with his foot as he blocked the other man's attack. The man who was now spitting blood. The girl hadn't listened to him, of course. She removed her needle from the back of his neck and he fell to the ground, clutching his throat, blood spurting from his gaping mouth onto his hands. Damn, he wanted that one.

"You going to kill him?" She asked, pointing to the man on the ground with the end of her 'needle'. Sandor held him down with his foot on his neck. It was the commander. He struggled to try and reach for his sword again, but the girl kicked it out of the way. She picked it up off the ground and met the tip of it with the corner of his eye, smiling. Sandor shrugged. "It'd be the wise decision." He said. "Are you really going to stab him through the eye?"

"No," She replied, "He doesn't deserve to die like that. I'll take him through the heart."

And then she did.

Hey everyone! I hope you guys like it so far. I don't really know what I'm getting into with this. This will get (somewhat) romantic eventually, I promise :) I am completely open to suggestions/constructive criticism if you want to leave a comment or two. See you soon!

-OW