Chapter 1
She didn't know what she was doing there at his door. She had been in bed, failing at sleep, and suddenly she found her feet had a mind of their own. She had no destination in mind when she left, but here she was. She lifted her fist to knock quietly and the door swung open. She hadn't been the only one unable to sleep.
"Brienne of fucking Tarth." He said harshly, but amusement danced in his eyes.
"Bloody Hound." She quipped back. There seemed to be an ease about him since he learned Arya was alive and back home.
He stepped back and opened the door so she could enter. Their cabins were the same. Small and windowless with a sleeping pallet on one side and a small table with 2 chairs on the other. They had not planned to sail back north with John Snow and the others, but it was faster, and they felt the need to back as soon as possible. She looked around his room for a moment. His bed was made. A glass and pitcher of wine on the table. Unlike her, his lack of sleep did not come with trying. He lumbered passed her and sat back down. He motioned for her to sit in the other chair, which she did. They sat in an awkward silence for for a few moments before Brienne spoke.
"You saw the army." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes." He nodded as he spoke. He took a long drink of wine before continuing, "And it is truly massive. And horrifying. Even with everything we have, we probably won't win."
Brienne took a deep breath, her eyes focusing on the wood grain of the table. When she had heard the number at the meeting she feared there was no chance of surviving. The glass had been topped off and slid in front of her- interrupting her study of the wood grain. For the first time in a very long time, she drank. It was much stronger than she was used to as she normally watered her wine down. Nevertheless, she drained the glass while willing herself not to choke on the sour liquid and passed it back. She could feel it burn her throat and heat her stomach as it settled. Sandor filled it and took a drink himself.
"When we dock, you should go to your man at Eastwatch. You may not get another chance." His voice was low. He was looking down into the wine, as if he was seeing something there. He hated to admit that he was jealous of the damn ginger. He had someone to warm his thoughts in the frigid North.
"What are going on about?"
"That fucking ginger wildling." He passed the glass back to her, never looking up.
"The man who looks at me like a lunatic?" She chuckled a bit before drinking more and passing the glass back. There was no chance she could keep up with the pace Sandor was setting.
"Say what you will, you were all he talked about north of wall. Grand ideas of children and conquering the world." His eyes flicked up to her before settling on the glass again.
She stood up and took a few paces away from him. She couldn't go very far in the small cabin which was a good thing as her head was already cloudy from the wine. Her brow was furrowed and her jaw was clenched, though he couldn't see that with her back to him. "Why would you say such things?"
"Why not?"
"Are you mocking me? Is this really how you think we should prepare for war, with insults?" She never turned to look at him. She feared he might see the hurt in her eyes. She had dealt with this all her life, but she hadn't thought she would find such torment here and her guard had been lowered by the wine..
"I am not doing any of those things." He said as he moved behind her. His eyes swept the length of her legs to the hem of her tunic. He had been more than pleasantly surprised when she had shown up barely dressed, though he was certain she hadn't meant anything by it. Still, he had never imagined she would look so good under all of that armor.
"You must be. No man has wanted me like that. All of my life that has been made perfectly clear." Her voice was quiet. She turned back to look at him. He was much closer to her than she had expected. His grey eyes were dark and his breathing uneven. What in seven hells was that look in his eyes?
At that moment, she realized in her restlessness she hadn't put on any clothes. She was only in her tunic, which fortunately was long enough to cover half of her thighs. Unfortunately, she had removed the linen wrap she used to bind her chest under her armor and she was certain now that he could see her meager breasts through the cloth. What had she been thinking? Her heart sped up and her breathing began to match his as she watched him watch her. She felt a strange warmth in the pit of her stomach and something she hadn't quite felt before.
Sandor noticed all of these things. He stepped towards her and she stepped back, but it only took two more paces before her back bumped the wall. He took one more step. He was incredibly close to her. Their bodies had a mere sliver of space between them. He knew he was taking a risk. Not only had she nearly killed him before, but she was highborn and he was far below the likes of her.
"I can't believe no one has wanted you like that." He whispered close to her ear. Then, he closed the gap between them. His lips settled gently on hers. His left hand fell to the wall beside her head for balance and his right rested on her hip. She didn't know what to do. She was completely frozen. She cursed herself for being so awkward. Respond dammit.
He broke the connection and looked at her. Her blue eyes were wide and almost as dark as his. Her breathing was erratic and harsh. Was that desire in her eyes? He had never been looked at like that before so he wasn't sure. It likely wasn't. She had yet to give any indication that his advance was welcome.
"I am sorry, I shouldn't have done that." He had taken her lack of response as rejection.
"No." She said with heavy breaths. Maybe it was the wine. Or maybe it was impending doom, but she was going to let herself feel tonight. She was terrified- it was ridiculous. She was going to face certain death with more courage than she did when it came to bedding a man. "Do it again."
He smiled before his lips landed on hesr once again. This time, she kissed him back, as unfamiliar as it was. One of her hands held onto his shoulder while the other ran up the scar on his face. She accidentally nipped his bottom lip. A low growl rumbled from him and his tongue ran across her lips. She hesitated for a moment, not quite sure what he was wanting, but as soon as she parted her lips she had her answer as his tongue invaded her mouth. His hand moved from the wall to the back of her neck to move her head as he wished and the one on her hip pulled her flush against him. She moaned softly into his mouth. The moment seemed so surreal. She hadn't imagined anything like this would happen to her. The passion felt real. It was so different than the boys in Renly's camp. The ones that flattered her and stole a kiss here and there before she learned the true intentions. She briefly wondered if there could still be a pot of dragons waiting for Sandor.
His hand left her hip and traveled down her leg; light pressure drew her leg up from the floor and he rested her knee around his hip. She was so vulnerable in that position, but pushed the thought away- she wanted this. She had never realized how badly she wanted this to feel this way until that moment. She felt his fingers sliding up her bare thigh and she shivered. His mouth left hers to ravage her neck, his beard scratching against her skin. Her breath was coming in ragged pants. The fingers that had rested on the back of her neck were traveling now as well. Across her throat and down her chest. They grazed her covered breast, down her stomach and to her thigh where it finally found the hem of her tunic. Then his fingers snaked their way back up, only this time they were under the fabric. They brushed her stomach, her taught muscles tightened under his touch and goosebumps broke out across her flesh. His hand cupped her small breast and his thumb flicked across her nipple. It was already a small stone peak on the tip of her muscular, yet soft, breast. He rolled it gently between his finger and thumb.
Her head rolled back against the wood as a sigh escaped her throat. She felt she should be doing something. This was feeling very one-sided, but she didn't know what to do so she kept herself out of the way. The hand on her thigh had grown bolder. He was caressing her inner thigh, so close to her center. He could feel heat radiating from her. He pulled the strings on her small clothes until they gave way and fell from her hips. She gasped and arched into him when he slid a finger through her folds. Her entire body felt the sparks when he touched her where no one had ever been. She shouldn't be letting him touch her there, the only part of her that was a Lady rang in her mind. You're not a Lady, reminded herself, You're a soldier. Sandor made a low, guttural groan at how wet she was. He couldn't remember feeling anything more wonderful and it was all for him. Not for his coin, just him as a man. He had never been wanted in such a way either.
Then a dark voice whispered in his head, "You don't deserve her, Dog."
Suddenly, he pulled back from her, his hands and lips leaving her body, "We can't do this" He panted. His eyes had closed in shame as he pulled away from her, but he forced himself to open them and look at her. She was flushed and breathing heavily. Gods he wanted to take her. He wanted to slam her into the wall, push himself into her, and fuck her until they forgot why they were sailing north. But he didn't deserve her. The voice was right. She must know that.
She stood in shock for half a moment before her leg unwrapped from his hip and sank to the ground. Her eyes turned from desire to disgust. It had all been a mockery. Just like any man who flattered her, he couldn't keep it up. She was too grotesque for him to get any further- gold dragons or cruel jape- he couldn't go through with it. Why had she allowed herself to be so vulnerable to him? How could she have allowed him to touch her and open her up like that? Everyone who had called her slow or stupid was right. Would she never learn? She dropped her eyes from his. She didn't want him to see through the wall that was faltering once again in her mind.
He had been watching the gears in her mind and tried to read just what she was thinking. Did she understand why he pulled away? Was she coming to her senses and realizing that he was right? When she looked away from him, he realized that she did not understand what he meant- she thought it was her. Mayhaps he should have considered that. Had it not been for her voice that day he may not have known she was a woman. He knew better than most the cruelty that those deemed ugly faced in this world.
"I understand," She said in a quiet voice as she pushed passed him and headed for the door.
"Brienne..." He had to stop her.
"Just let me leave." She said as she reached the door.
"Brienne!" He said more desperately as he threw his hand on the door to keep it closed. His body was flush against her back. She had to understand. "It is not you."
She scoffed. Tears burned at her eyes again. She would not let them loose. Brienne the Beauty rang in her head.
"How can you want me? If you knew the things I have done... My face isn't the only thing about me that is ugly. You deserve better. Much better than..." His voice trailed for a moment before he spat the last words with utter disgust, "the Hound."
She stared at the wood door. Could he be telling the truth? Was she just being stupid in wanting to believe him? It had not occurred to her that he would feel this way about himself. She had seen the scars, but she had not considered him ugly. She had heard stories of the Hound, but he had fiercely protected Arya even after there was no ransom to be had. How could he feel this way about himself? The same way she felt about herself, that is. Ugly. Unwanted. Undesirable. A never ending joke.
She turned around to face him with astonishment in her features. Before either knew what was happening, her hands were in his beard and her lips were on his.
He pulled back and looked away from her, " Brienne..."
"No. You don't get to decide for me. I want you." His eyes looked to hers. He had never been wanted by a woman before. Even his first time had been with a whore because his face had always turned women away. "Do you want me?"
He smirked and leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "I have wanted to hear you scream when you fuck since that day on the mountain."
A small gasp escaped her and her eyes widened. She felt sparks like lightning all over her body coming to settle between her legs. She couldn't believe what his words had done to her. Her knees almost buckled then and there. Jaime had been right those years ago. She desperately wanted to know what it felt like to be a woman. To have a man strong enough to take her. Just hold her down and rip off her clothes... Suddenly, She needed him... on her... in her... just everywhere at once. She pushed him back slightly and he started thinking his words had been too vulgar for her. That thought left his mind as her tunic left her body and hit the floor. She stood bare before him. She fought the urge to cover herself and goosebumps covered her body. Her eyes met his which were dark and filled with the a similar desperation.
"Then make me scream." Her voice was low and shook as she spoke. The wine was to blame for her boldness, she decided.
He didn't waste a second. His mouth crashed into hers and his body slammed her back against the harsh wood of the door. His hands explored her exposed skin. She was so soft against his rough, calloused hands. Brienne pulled his shirt over his head, their lips parted for a split second to let the garment pass. Her hands slowly slid down his chest, her nails scraping against his skin as they moved. Her mouth left his again, though this time to do some exploring of their own. His head moved to the side to grant her more access and his hands caressed her breasts. She kissed along his cheek and down his neck, the feeling of his pulse racing beneath her lips gave her courage. Her hands were still moving lower until they hit the top of his breeches. She began to fumble with the laces. Her fingers were shaking so badly that they were barely useful. She wasn't even sure what she was going to do when she had him completely naked. She had never touched a man to pleasure him before. She didn't have time to think about it as her fingers finished their work and his breeches fell to the floor.
It was like he had read her mind or felt her hesitation. He grasped her hand and wrapped it around his cock. It was hot, and hard, and throbbing. He was larger than she had thought he would be- though she had rarely seen any man's member at full attention. He laid his arm on the wall beside her and rested his forehead on it. She set her head on his shoulder and watched as he moved her hand up and down along the shaft, showing her what to do for him. Once she was moving on her own accord, his hand went back to rest on her hip. Her mouth sought his again and her tongue pressed him this time. He gladly accepted her. He knew, however, that he was not going to last very long. It had been such a long time since he had been with a woman and true desire was so much more powerful than just needing release. Especially at the hands of a whore. They knew how to get a man off, but not how to make a man like him feel wanted. He pulled her hand away and spun her around to back her to the bed.
"Lie down." He commanded. She obeyed.
She wasn't sure how to position herself on the bed, so she simply rested her head on the pillow at the top of the bed and watched as he stood at the foot. She could see all of him now. Her breath went shallow as she took in the sight of him in all his glory. His chest and abdomen were littered with scars among his dark hair. All the battles he had survived. She wondered if any had been left by her. She had never felt desire like this before. He couldn't shake the look she was giving him- as though she liked what she saw. As a much younger man he had paid for whores, but the look in their eyes and the knowledge that they were only with him because he had paid them made him stop. He was revolting to them. So, he used that to become a better killer and learned to relish in the blood on his hands instead. But now, Brienne looked at him in a way he never thought a woman would look at him.
He bent down and started to caress her legs. She had never experienced tenderness before and she had never needed it. Coming from him, she found that she craved it. She was also surprised at the gentleness he was capable of when he was also capable of fierce brutality. He kissed her as he moved, spreading her legs as he went... ankles, calves, knees, thighs... His tongue was scorching on her skin. He spent extra time on her inner thighs- teasing her with open mouthed kisses that caused her to writhe in anticipation- though she didn't know what. When he looked up at her she was watching him between her legs and blushing a deep red. He smirked and moved to her mound of blond curls. He kissed her gently before his tongue parted her. She was wet and ready and wanting. She let a small cry escape her lips and her body shivered. She had never felt anything like it before. He moved to her tiny bundle of nerves and flicked his tongue against her. Her hips bucked into him and he put his hands on her hips to steady her before he continued. He licked at her and he was rewarded with tiny moans and sounds of pleasure. In turn, he rewarded her. He sucked the bundle into his mouth. The pressure was amazing. A much louder cry ripped from her and her back arched. His cock jumped at the sound. If he wasn't careful, he was going to cum before he even got inside her. Is that what getting older does to a man? He didn't like it one bit.
He released the nub and moved up her body- kissing and licking and sucking her stomach, her breasts, and her neck before settling his mouth on hers again. She reached up to cup her hands around neck. She tasted something new on his lips and she realized it was her. She knew that should have made her recoil, but she found it aroused her even more. He was now positioned at her entrance- her wet heat was beckoning him forward. Her head spun as the head of his cock nestled between her legs. This was really happening.
"Are you sure you have never?" He stopped an looked down at her. She had said she hadn't been wanted, but she was beautiful. He couldn't be the only one to see it as the wildling wanted her too. Could she really want him to be her first? Surely there were better men...
"Been with a man?" She asked back with amusement, "I am fairly certain I would remember. I won't bleed though." She blushed as she said it.
He looked at her with a question he couldn't quite voice.
"A well placed kick on a mountain took care of that." She whispered.
He closed his eyes. She could see guilt and shame cross his features. He even pulled back from her. She had meant it to be taken lightly. After-all, she wasn't upset by it. She even found it to be a bit appropriate- he took her maidenhead physically in battle and now he would in truth.
"No, no... Sandor," her hands moved up to cradle his face, "Stay here with me. Come back out of your head. Please."
With her plea, she pushed her hips up and slid her wet core along his cock. Gods, where was this coming from? With a growl, he opened his eyes and re positioned to slowly push into her. She gasped and he heard 'oh gods' escape her lips while she pulled him down against her. Her face pressed into his. He groaned into the pillow next to her. He whispered how fucking tight she was in her ear as he started rocking against her. Not too much at first- just enough to acclimate to each other. She relished the sensation of being so filled by him. She wondered if this was real or some cruel dream. She decided it didn't matter, as long as she didn't wake up. She started slowly rocking with him.
Soon, though, their movements were more hurried. He had pushed his torso off of her so he could watch her beneath him. He was pulling all the way out just to thrust back into her. Brienne felt herself slide against the furs beneath her so she moved her hands above her head and against the wall to brace her body. She found that this gave her hips the ability to match him thrust for thrust. Her hips lifted off the bed to push him deeper into her with every thrust. She was moaning so loudly- mixed with his name leaving her lips and pleas for more. He shouldn't be surprised. He had been with her in combat and she was not the kind of woman to passively participate in anything, regardless of her inexperience. He could feel her tightening around him, her walls pulsing against him. She was quickly approaching her climax. Thank the gods because so was he. He leaned forward and nipped at he skin on her breast, just above the nipple. He soothed it with his tongue, just to do it again. He aimed to mark her. He only desired to do so where she would be covered at all times. His mark and their secret. He bit down a third time, much harder than before. She arched into him and she cried out; part from pain, part from pleasure. His right hand slid between them and started circling that little nub that felt so good. This elicited a glorious sound. Something between a scream and roar. He sucked the skin on her breast as this fingers worked at her nub. Her senses were exploding. The pressure was beginning to be more that she could take. She kept one hand on the wall for leverage while the other clung to his shoulder to ground her. She felt like the world was spinning, but she wasn't ready to give up her leverage quite yet. She could feel herself losing control, however, and that arm made her feel like she was falling. Suddenly, something let loose inside her and she had to grasp him with both hands. Her nails left shallow grooves across his shoulders. Her body arched and a glorious scream left her lips. Her body shivered and her hips jerked against his. He rocked with her slowly, keeping himself sheathed inside her as he fell with her.
The sound would have been enough to send Sandor over the edge- it was such a primal and wanton sound. However, combined with the sight of her coming undone beneath him and how tight her walls clenched him- he was lost. His body shuddered and as he spilled into her with a feral sound she had never head before. He really hadn't meant to let himself go inside of her, but he hadn't been able to pull away. She was breathing heavily, her sweet mouth open. He leaned down to join their lips; his tongue entering her already open mouth. She eagerly joined in the kiss, hips still rolling together slowly as they both rode down their high. When he had gone limp, he rolled to lay beside her. They laid there in silence for several minutes before Brienne sat up and faced away from him. She should leave, right? That is how this went?
"I should go and let you seep..."
"Fucking lay back down." He said softly.
She smiled to herself. He wanted her to stay? She did as he asked and laid back down next to him. He rolled onto his side and draped an arm over her stomach. She was not sure why she didn't feel more uncomfortable lying there naked with him. It was oddly soothing. Like there was peace for that short time. She knew better, of course. Wars were coming. More battles and death than she cared to think about, but for this night...
Sandor's breath was slow and quiet in her ear. She wondered if he might be asleep when he said, "I'm not looking forward to this war. We can burn the fuckers. The Stranger knows I hate fire. The thrice damned dragons, spewing the shit everywhere. And burning our own dead as soon as they drop lest we see their eyes turn to ice..."
She felt him shudder. She didn't know what to say. She was afraid- though she would never admit it. Instead, she chanced a different statement, "If only the sun wouldn't rise- then we could just stay in this bed."
He smiled, "If we are to stay in bed forever, it had better be a more comfortable bed."
She laughed, "Awe, did you get too used to feather beds and silks in Kings Landing?"
"You can't tell me that you don't miss it." He smiled broadly at her quip.
"Now, I never said that." She said feigning innocence.
He snorted at her, but said nothing. He absentmindedly nuzzled his head closer to hers.
"How did you get these?" He asked as he kissed the ragged scars on her shoulder. He had felt them on her neck earlier, but he didn't want to ask and break whatever spell she was under.
"It is a very long story, but they are from a bear."
"A Bear?!" He laughed. "You'll fight anything, won't you?"
She hoped to say something clever, but nothing came to mind. They went silent again. Their eyes closed and rest came for them. Neither was actually asleep, but their minds were quiet and they were just enjoying the moment together. To each of them, they found a surreal comfort in each other that they hadn't experienced before. However, too much silence allows minds to think about all of the things that they would rather escape.
"When we dock..." Brienne began to say when Sandor finished her thought.
"This can't come with us." He knew it too.
"We have people to protect. We have battles to fight. We can't be distracted. No matter how glorious the distraction was."
"I know. And it was." He smiled softly, but it quickly left his features. "Also, if you decide that you to want the ginger man- if all he is offering is what you decide you want- I will understand if you lie about this night. If you tell him he's the first. I won't say anything if you want to forget this ever happened."
There was sadness in his voice. She had not ever imagined that he would feel so low about himself after what they had shared. "Stop. That isn't going to happen."
"You say that now, but when the war is over you may change your mind. Children may be something you want. You are still young. You may want a different life. A life I couldn't give you."
"I will not lie about this night. I don't want to forget." She rolled onto her side to face him and slid her hand from her side of the pillow to his, her hand gently stroking his face. "It happened. And the sun hasn't risen yet."
Her free hand slipped between their bodies to stroke his manhood. He was limp at rest, but quickly began to come to life in her hand. It excited her that she could do that to him with such a small touch. She lifted her top leg over his hip, opening herself up to him again. Their lips met in a lazy kiss. When he had grown hard, she lined him up with her and he entered her slowly. He wrapped his arms around her to pull her close. Their tongues danced together while their hips rocked against each other slowly. They set a steady pace and moved fluidly together. Nothing about this was hurried. This time was slow, lazy, and both were content to take their time. Last time they had both been chasing pleasure with everything they had. Now, they were content to simply be wrapped up in each other.
So wrapped up they stayed. They had no idea if it had been minutes or an hour by the time the pressure started to build. It didn't matter. They were happy there. They felt whole there.
Their movements began to lose fluidity. Tiny bucks and jerks invading the steady rhythm and they approached release. Their mouths had to separate so they could breath, leaving only their foreheads touching. He was pumping into her harder now and like before, she matched him. Her leg tightened on his hip. Without his mouth to drown her sounds, her voice echoed around the tiny room. He let himself wonder who would hear her tonight. It seemed like an eternity before her walls tightened around him again. That incredible pressure and her loud moans in his ear told him she was there. He pumped into her a few more times before he pulled out swiftly, using his hand to finish himself off on the bed between them.
"What are doing?" She was breathing heavily and he could hear disappointment in her tone.
"What I should have done the first time." His voice was choppy as the last of him spurted out. She wasn't following his logic. He looked to her questioning face, "You don't need any more risk of me putting a baby in your belly."
"I hadn't even thought about that." Her eyes widened. She was suddenly more aware of the risks she was taking that night. How could that have escaped her? She understood how that all worked and yet it hadn't even crossed her mind. She had been so full of desire that she hadn't even cared. While she was glad he had not wanted her to wear the consequences, she almost wished he hadn't because now she was more worried than she wanted to be.
"Hey," he sought her eyes with his, "It'll be okay."
She nodded at him. She curled into him and his arm pulled her close. They fell asleep like that.
