Chapter Two

Jacelyn sent Emmie and Scarla to fetch everyone once the evening had settled and the meal was completed. Sansa helped set up the table in the little dining hall, moving the plates and napkins so they were adjusted just right. Jacelyn placed all the food at one end of the table, to be passed back and forth through everyone. She had the stew, the bread cut up into even pieces, and even what looked like a dessert of some sort of cakes. Whatever they were, the cakes smelt like apples and cinnamon and made Sansa's mouth water.

She tried to avoid that plate, as she waited for the rest of the crew to appear.

Emmie and Scarla scurried in first, flushed and giggling as they whispered between themselves.

The men piled in next, hooting and bellowing and as loud as they ever were. A man, one Sansa was familiar with, winked at her and Jacelyn and said, "The meal looks lovely girls," as he passed by.

"Don't be a'flirtin' none, Aric," Jacelyn scowled, shooing Sansa towards her spot at the table. Sansa hesitated, not wanting to leave any more extra work. When Jacelyn sent her a heavy glare, the Clegane lady took that as a sign not to argue with her. She knew her seat would be near the furthest end across from Emmie and Scarla. Sandor would sit beside her.

She settled down across from Emmie and peeked around the men to see if she could find her husband. The other men around spoke with her at least once, asking her about the baby and how it was in the kitchen. She spoke to each one of them politely, trying not to extend too much genuine emotion.

Finally, she spotted Sandor. Immediately, she straightened up and tried to smile at him as he walked down their way. He barely acknowledged her, muttering something she hoped was a greeting as he sat down heavily. He looked as if he'd been working all day. She tried to ask him about it, but before she could get a word out, the Hound turned and began making bad conversation with Garnel. The young man, no more than four and twenty, gave her an apologetic look as he started talking with Sandor. Her shoulders drooping, Sansa focused on the bowl passed to her by Jacelyn and she spooned her serving. She had to take an extra half serving more than everyone else, because she was pregnant. When she tried arguing her first meal here, Jacelyn scolded her good until she ate twice as much that night.

She didn't try to argue again.

Sansa played with her soup for some time listlessly, and dipped her bread in the broth. Emmie tried making conversation with her, but Scarla nudged the girl until she stopped. The girls seemed to understand there was something the matter. Jacelyn glared at Sandor when the ex-Knight was looking, but he didn't seem to care nor mind. Eventually, the desert plate was passed around, but even the delicious smells didn't rouse too much happiness in Sansa. She still picked at them until she brought the first bite to her mouth. As soon as the taste of apples touched her tongue, she knew this was what she'd needed. It was like a biscuit with a baked apple in the middle, covered in this delicious lemony, spicy concoction that made her taste buds sing. She ate the biscuit as quickly as she could while still keeping her lady-like appearance. She wished there were more, some sort of leftovers to snack on at night when she woke up craving something sweet and salty.

By the time dinner was done, the men were all started in on another one of their games. Sansa helped Jacelyn clear up the dishes, but the dark haired girl refused to let her help wash them. She started to protest. Jacelyn snapped, "Ya go and strip down. Ya man gonna get something to night and so are ya."

When she hesitated, Jacelyn took the plates out of her hands, set them in the washbin in the kitchen, and shoved her lightly towards the door. Sansa left the kitchen, feeling suddenly nervous. She had butterflies in her belly and she was a bit flushed even as she wandered down the steps to their little room. She cracked open the door, half expecting Sandor to be standing there in the room, but he was absent.

She closed the door behind her and, for a moment, just stood there. Should she just wait until he entered the room? Would it be better to take off her clothes and just stand there and wait? What if someone else came into the room? Not that anyone had so far, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen! She sighed in frustration and ran a hand through her loosened hair. Since when had it become so hard to sleep with her husband? He hadn't cared when he did it or if she was even ready once he'd gotten used to the idea. He just bent her over or thrown her on the bed and had his way with her. He was good at it too and made sure she was at least wet before he'd take her.

She decided to start making herself decently presentable.

She loosened up the braid her hair was in, which was already falling apart from working in the kitchens all day. She ran a brush through the snarls until her hair felt decently smooth again. Then she began to unlace her dress, these ties much easier than the dresses at King's Landing. She'd been adamant to bring her simplest gowns and mostly they were her old dresses she'd brought from Winterfell. After a bit of tweaking and resizing, Sansa was able to squeeze back into the dresses, although her middle section was much tighter than she remembered previously.

Once she slipped the gown off of her body and she'd folded it up neatly, Sansa turned to the small looking glass on the wall. It was low enough that she could take a decent look at herself. She turned so she could see how far her belly stuck out. The bump had definitely grown enough that it was noticeable. She touched her belly, stroking the bump, wondering when she would be able to feel the baby kick on the outside. Sansa slipped off the rest of her clothes, from her underclothes to any piece of fabric that might cover her. For the first time in over a week, Sansa took a good look at herself and what differences had developed in her body over the last few months. From her budding breasts, her rounded stomach or her hips that had shifted about to prepare for the coming pregnancy. She couldn't believe the changes.

She felt strange being completely bare in a room by herself and decided to lay underneath the coverlet until Sandor arrived. She grabbed one of the books Lord Tyrion had given her as a reference and started to read through a few of the pages. She'd looked through them countless times, but Sansa still worried that she doing something wrong so she would go through and read up all of the information she could. Hopefully, there would be someone there who could help Sansa with all of her questions.

She had no clue how long it was that she was waiting. Eventually, she put away her book, blew out the taper and curled up under the coverlet. It wasn't the first time Sandor delayed coming back to bed until he was certain she would be asleep. This time, she would be ready for the wait. She contented herself with lying there, touching her belly and thinking about their next plan of action. It would help a lot more if she could talk with Sandor, hear what he might have to say or to voice his opinion. She didn't want to be solving all of this by herself without his thoughts too.

She was beginning to doze off when she heard the door to their room open. She tensed immediately, but stayed still underneath the coverlet. She could smell the wine wafting off of him as he stumbled in, but from the sound of his mutterings, he wasn't too terribly lost. She listened as he wandered around the dark room, cursing when he stubbed his toe or bumped into the washbin. She could imagine him shucking off his clothes as he did every night, completely bare as she was now, and then he was settling down on their bed. She waited for him to shift over, to wrap his arm around her and pull her to his chest. He had done it every night they'd been here so far...

She fairly melted into his arms when he wrapped one around her. He stilled the moment he felt her bare skin, exposed and open for him. The smell of wine surrounded her, but Sansa didn't mind, even as she shifted around and faced the Hound in the near darkness. "Sandor," she whispered, reaching out to touch him.

He growled at her and snapped, "What the fuck are you-?" She didn't let him finish his sentence; she had touched his face, just enough where she knew his mouth was. She pressed her lips against his almost hesitant, snaking her arms around his neck and melding up against him in the way she knew he wouldn't be able to resist. She could feel his body responding almost immediately; the lack of his clear-headedness, and the fact they had gone so long without coupling, made it easy to harden his manhood. Instead of pushing her away as she imagined he would, Sandor tangled his hand into her hair, nipping at her bottom lip in a clear demand as he kissed her back hard. She opened her mouth just enough, her tongue touching his almost tentatively. That touch alone made her moan softly and shiver. It wasn't going to take much to get her wet either.

His other hand hadn't found its way down as it usually did, firmly clasped to her waist, while he shifted her. Immediately, she spread her legs as he settled her on his hips and settled out on his manhood, to try to tease him. When she went to rise up, just enough that she could rub her wet slit against his, she noticed he had a hard hold on her in way to prevent her from moving. She almost whimpered at the pressure, but it didn't hurt. She wasn't sure what he wanted…

He shifted her again, off of him onto the bed. He told her roughly, "Get on your knees." His voice, raspy and deep and demanding, made her shiver and sent a tingle down between her legs, even as she scrambled to do what he requested. She hadn't thought it would be this easy, that he-

She whined loudly as he pushed into her suddenly, piercing her so quickly she hadn't expected it. Her arms went out under her, but Sandor's grip on her hips kept her mostly upright, even as he pulled out and began to thrust into her again. She gripped onto the sheets, desperate for some sort of purchase as he moved in and out of her at such a pace she could hardly keep up. She couldn't think of anything else, only focused on the delicious feeling of such friction and fullness. She tried to move with him, but every time she shifted, he would still inside of her until she settled. She was biting on her bottom lip, trying to keep quiet, but with every thrust and shift, Sansa squeaked and whimpered. She desperately wished he would reach down and touch her between her legs, but he made no move to relieve her in the least.

When he began to slow down, she wondered if he'd already finished. Would he want her to? Or was this retaliation, a way for him to release his pent up frustration in a way that didn't harm her at all? This felt like absolute torture though, her legs almost shaking at the built up pleasure, even as he slid out of her. She almost argued, thought about begging him to finish her, somehow. But her voice caught in her throat as Sandor touched her back and told her, voice impatient, "Get on your side." She did so without question, heart hammering in her chest. She could feel him settling out beside her, then his hand hooked around her right knee and he lifted it up with his forearm, spreading her wide so he could sink inside of her once more. She moaned, louder than she would have liked. He released her leg, but she kept it raised up, certain that was what he wanted.

"Sandor," she whimpered, feeling him move inside of her, sliding out so slowly she almost shook.

"Why the fuck had you lied to me?" he growled suddenly, only the very head of his manhood still inside of her.

"What?" she gasped out as he sunk back into her wet folds so suddenly.

He worked his way out again, as slowly as before, drawing out the question again, "Why in the fucking hells had you lied to me?"

"I-I didn't mean-Oooooh," she moaned out as he moved back into her, much slower this time. His hand had found one of her nipples, hard and erect. He pinched the bud, rolling it between two fingers almost painfully so. She'd never enjoyed it so much.

"Answer the fucking question," he said, sounding angry.

"I-I…" She tried to focus on her words, her thoughts scattered as he played with her and slowly worked his way in and out of her. She tried to roll her hips with his, to drive him deeper, but he released her sensitive nipple to still her actions. Her thighs trembled and she whimpered. She babbled out as quickly as she could, "I-I didn't mean to. B-but King's Landing was filled with spies and birds and-" She almost moaned loudly again when his hands traveled down between her legs, finding her nub easily. She almost finished then and there, but he removed his hand before she could.

"What the fuck were you thinking about this?" he growled, his breath tickling her ear as he touched her baby bump.

Tears almost filled her eyes, so suddenly overwhelmed. She might have started crying, had Sandor not started moving in her, thrusting a little bit harder and faster. She clenched down on him tightly, even as she stammered out, "I d-didn't think you'd want me. Or us. Y-you've never said a word about our future, our lives. I thought-thought that you would hate me. A-and I couldn't handle it if you ran-" She squeaked when he reached down and stroked her little button of pleasure. He pinched the little nub and began to move as fast and hard as he could while he toyed with her.

She couldn't ever remember a completion so intense. It was almost blinding, as she cried out his name and clenched down on his manhood so tightly she could feel Sandor begin to pulse inside of her. They lay there, entwined, as Sansa lowered her leg and Sandor wrapped his arms tightly around her. He stayed deep inside of her, even as he buried his face into her hair and kissed her so gently on her neck. She could feel his scars and scruff brush against her skin. She could feel the tingles from her head to the tips of her toes. She held onto his forearm with her hands, squeezing her eyes shut so she could fight off tears. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Sandor," she whispered. "I just… I love you so much, it hurts to imagine my life without yours." Her heart hammered in her chest. She'd never told him what she felt, how much she had begun to care for him in the months they'd bene married.

"I won't going nowhere, Little Bird," he said gruffly. He loosened his grip on her, so she could twist around and meet his eyes. He kissed her hard and muttered against her skin as he began to kiss down his neck, "I'm pissed as fuck with you. I'm nott gonna just be okay with what the hell you did. But, you're stuck with an old dog for the rest of your days, whether you want to or not."

She whimpered as he began nipping at her skin, the feelings spreading down to her breasts and between her legs. "Show me that I am," she whispered, arching as his hand found one of her nipples. And show her he did.

~A/N~

Finally, finally got this chapter finished and edited! It actually took quite a bit to write this one out, I just couldn't get it to flow just right. I'm not impressed with the ending, but it was the best I could think of. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much for the response, I couldn't be more pleased with all of the reviews! Thank you, thank you, thank you :)

Chapter Three is already a full page and a half and I still have two days left to this week I have time to write it. Might be done by this weekend! *Fingers crossed*

R&R!

XmX