~flashback~

291 AC, King's Landing

Sandor

Aliena was not yet ten and she rode like she had been born on a horse that was at least what her uncle said. At the moment, Aliena was flying through the woods near King's Landing on her first proper horse, a strong white filly. She heard her uncle shout behind her, the voices of the small hunting party the king had assembled sounded muffled through the green leaves that shielded her from view. She did not hear the king's command:

"Clegane, get her. Frighten her a little, if you must. She is as wild as her mother, just the same temper as … well. Don't be too harsh. She is only a little girl." The Hound obeyed its master.

His dark courser was heavier than the filly, and stronger as well but not as quick, especially with its heavily armoured rider. But he reached the little girl after a while, she was resting her white beauty at a pool on a little clearing when the Hound came in heavy galop. The filly was scared and pranced nervously.

"I know you have come to take me but please be quiet! She is scared and I love her much."

But Sandor Clegane was a foul-tempered man at 21 already and he was not used to being told to be quiet by a nine year old. His warhorse was heavy on its feet and the sound of clanging ringmail contributed to the filly's fear. It sprang away, as quick and as light as a doe. The girl was sad beyond belief.

"You scared her! Oh, she was my first horse and she moved quicker than river water. I have not even found a name for her yet." "

Good. Because the horse in gone now anyway."

Sandor sat the child on his horse and attempted to turn around.

"This was the king's horse, a gift for my ninth name day. I have to find it or he will be very cross with me. I cannot stand it when he is cross with me. Please, please help me find it."

The girl turned in the saddle, almost standing now and about the same height as Sandor was sitting. She looked him in the eye now for the first time, determined and fearless, did not even seemed to notice the scars.

"Do you have nothing you love?" she asked, her voice desperate and her blue-green eyes shining.

"No. And now turn around, we have to reach the riding party."

"I will not. You scared her and I have not even found a name for her." This somehow was important. "She will die here, people will eat her!"

Aliena was a clever child and an orphan. She knew far more about the city and its surroundings than her royal cousins.

"You should not have left her untied then."

"You should have just been quiet. It is your fault as much as mine!"

And to his despair, the little girl started to sob. He could not return to the king with a crying girl on his lap who told him that he drove off her little filly, the king's gift. He turned his horse, silently and directed it back into the direction where it came from.

"Oh, I thank you! You are very knightly indeed!" Sandor would have almost turned round again.

The filly had found a little brook not far from the clearing where she had lost her nerves.

"Let me get off. I will go to her alone."

And Aliena slid down the horse and landed lightly on her feet. Clegane watched the girl with a mixture of annoyance and astonishment as she lured the horse into their direction. She grabbed the reins firmly and mounted on alone with only little difficulty. Her light little horse fell in next to Sandor's dark courser.

"What do you think should I name her? I have thought about Visenya, Aegon the Conqueror's warrior wife, the one he loved less. But then I also like Rhaenyra. You know?"

He said nothing in response which Aliena took as a no.

"The princess that grew up to be the Queen but then, when her father died, her evil little half-brother and his mother stole the throne from her together with the man that she rejected. They stole her throne and her crown but she fought valiantly and in the end, her son became king. She was dead by then, though. But her side won the Dance of Dragons. So it is either Visenya or Rhaenyra but that is both rather a mouthful-"

Aliena chattered happily and seemed not to notice that Clegane did not listen intently.

"...and so I thought, maybe the name of their dragons? So Vhagar or Syrax. Of course a dragon is a lot more impressive because of all the fire-"

"I don't like fire." Clegane's voice was rasping and low, his tone abrupt. Aliena looked at him, curiously.

"I see. You are happy all the dragons died then?" Clegane did not answer.

"Well, I think I will name her Syrax. It is short enough and pretty and Rhaenyra loved her dragon as much as I love my filly."

Again, Sandor did not honour her thoughts with a reply but she expected none. She was used to being overheard and so she just continued, chatting and muttering to herself until they reached the king. Clegane was relieved to be back with grown men again. Women and children were not his strong point, even more so children that he was expected to be kind to.

But he could not deny that he did not find the girl as horrible and thoughtless and vain as other little girls. And she had looked him in the eye. "Frighten her a little", the king had said, and he had thought that his face and temper and voice alone were enough but she had not been afraid, only angry and concerned. The king scolded his niece but with a chuckle in the corner of his mouth and a spark in his blue eyes. He loved her more than his own children and there was nothing he did not forgive her. The four years younger Prince Joffrey could barely sit straight on his pony but Aliena complimented him on his riding coat and let him win in a race. Clegane sat on his horse with his usual sullen face, the thoughts cloudy and dark. He had come to King's Landing when had been little more than a boy, a squire sent from Casterly Rock to join the queen and her brother. He had worked for his position in Prince Joffrey's guard hard enough. But riding out with a fat blustering oaf of a king, his lackwit riding party of pampered lords and ladies that avoided so much as looking at him, and guarding a little shit of a prince who would have needed a good beating instead of gifts and compliments was really not something he enjoyed. There should be war all the time. The Greyjoy rebellion is too long ago already and tourneys and melees are for polished little lordlings. But he had made all the gold he had in tourneys and jousts. For a second son of a landed knight, that was the only chance to acquire some gold, at least. And Sandor had nowhere else to go, just like the little girl, King's Landing was the only place for him. So he would stay.