A/N: Hey Everyone! I am so sorry that I haven't uploaded anything in the last two months or so. I just started college and haven't had much time for anything outside school work. But as promised, here is Chapter 4. I hope you enjoy. Please leave a review. Any feedback can be good feedback! Thanks! ENJOY

Chapter 4: The Blackwater Ignites

The Great Hall was a mess, everyone running around in a fit of confusion before the coming battle with Stannis Baratheon and his forces. Sansa was standing at the end of the hall with Shae, silently praying for all the men who poured themselves unknowingly into a battle they wouldn't necessarily win.

Turning to Shae, she sighed. "My Lady? What's wrong?" Sansa shook her head and motioned around her.

"This. It's sad. They're going to be fighting for a king who would rather watch them starve to death than help his people so he can be well fed and are doing it willingly, it's stupid." Sansa frowned, her mood sour. "It's a waste." Shae simply nodded before resting her head on Sansa's shoulder.

"Don't worry about it Sansa. You have other things to focus on."

"Yes. I get to sit in Maegor's Holdfast to be tortured by Cersei's presence. She thinks I'm stupid. I don't understand why I have to be there. All she'll do is make me feel bad." Sansa's annoyance with the Queen Regent had spiked since their last conversation, and Sansa had tried to avoid her at all costs, blaming her pain for her absence. I don't want to have to sit there and be insulted. She sighed, again, acknowledging the fact that she had no choice and braced for what would probably be the longest night of her life.

"Sansa!" The King's boyish shout rang throughout the hall, Joffrey had seen her. "Sansa! Here!" He calls me as if he were calling a dog. How appropriate. Sansa threaded her way through a file of gold-cloaked spearmen as Joffrey beckoned her closer. "The battle will begin soon, everyone says so."

"May the gods have mercy on us all."

"My Uncle is the one who will need mercy, not that he will receive any." He drew his sword, swinging it around a couple times before looking back at Sansa. "What do you think of my new blade, I call it Hearteater." He named his sword before he used it? I thought swords were named for their deeds in battle. A small smile formed on Sansa's lips as she thought of Joffrey's old sword, Lion's Tooth. Her little sister had disarmed him and thrown it into the river. If a little girl could disarm him… "It is beautifully wrought, Your Grace." She held back a laugh and gave her most sincere smile to the boy king.

"Bless my steel with a kiss, my lady, wolf." He extended the lade down to her. "GO on, kiss it." The steel was cold on Sansa's lips, but the gesture seemed to please Joffrey, much to Sansa's satisfaction. "I'll let you kiss it again when I return, and taste by Uncle's blood." If one of your knights kills him with your sword, maybe.

"So you will be leading the men into battle? It is said my brother always goes where the battle is thickest," she said recklessly. "Though he is older than Your Grace, to be sure. A man grown."

That made him frown. STUPID! Why can't I keep my mouth shut? She had immediately regretted saying anything at all as Joffrey spoke about killing her brother before stalking off.

"Maybe, he'll fall in battle, Sansa." Shae held her hand as Sansa laughed.

"No, he'll come back. The worst one's always do."

"Do they?" Sandor's raspy voice startled Sansa, causing her to laugh. "And what if I come back from this shit? Would that make me the worst kind of person?" He smiled at her, eyeing Joffrey as the boy exited the hall.

"You know I don't think you to be that kind of person, Sandor." A blush burned in her cheeks, causing Sandor to chuckle. He still hadn't told her the way he felt, it had been the hardest week of his life. Between guarding the King and Sansa, getting ready for the battle for King's Landing, and coming to terms with his feelings for the Little Bird, Sandor had little time to really speak to her about it, or figure out how he was going to reveal his feelings. I need to say something soon; I may never see her again if this goes awry. "I think that of people like Cersei. I've been invited to sit out the battle with her in Meagor's Holdfast. Gods help me." The Little Bird's sarcasm snapped Sandor back to the present. Now's the time, dog.

"Little Bird," Sandor started, anxiety taking over. Agh! You're dumb, she'll never feel the same. As if Sansa could sense the tension in what he wanted to say, she turned to Shae, asking her to wait for her outside the hall.

"I'll be there in a minute, Shae." Knowingly, Shae smiled at them both, bowed and left them to talk. "What's on your mind, Sandor? I've never seen you this nervous, is it the battle?"

Sandor's laugh roared through the almost empty hall, gaining the attention of a few bystanders before they went back to their business. "No, lass. Battle doesn't make me nervous. You do." This is it. This is where I die.

"Me?" Sansa's expression shifted from heavy confusion to a slow realization of what Sandor had meant. "Are you saying that you-"

"I love you. And I will protect you to my dying breath, Sansa." He looked around the now empty hall and thanked the gods nobody had heard what he said. A dark red blush started to spread over Sansa's face, making him smile. "Sansa, dammit, you don't have to love me, but if I die tonight, I wanted you to know that I've always loved you." He stroked her cheek with his thumb before slipping and arm around her waist, bringing her lips to his. He had expected her to pull away but she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the passion between them.

Sandor set her down before going any further, embarrassed at how he had so easily lost control and how quickly Sansa had reciprocated the kiss. She didn't pull away. He smiled at Sansa, once more before kissing her softly again. "Pray for me, Little Bird," he reluctantly pulled away from Sansa, looking at her only once more before rushing to the battlements to guard Joffrey.

"All rise for Her Grace, Cersei of House Lannister, Queen Regent and Protector of the Realm," the royal steward cried. Sansa had arrived late and had still been in attendance before the queen, the idea making her fight the urge to roll her eyes as Cersei glided into Maegor's Holdfast as if nothing was happening on the outside of the castle walls, a look of disgust on her face as she took her place on the dais, her attention turning immediately to Sansa.

"You look pale, Sansa," Cersei observed. "Is your red flower still blooming?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"How apt. The men will bleed out there, and you in here." A smirk barely visible on her perfect lips.

"Why is Ser Ilyn here?" Sansa blurted out, disturbing the new found quiet in the room. The queen gestured toward the barred doors at the end of the hall, almost laughing at Sansa's comment.

"To deal with treason. When axes smash down those doors, you may end up thanking him for his service." Sansa nodded before speaking without thorough thought, again, asking about the guards on post and whether or not they had the ability to keep them safe, Ser Ilyn giving her a wary feeling. "Loyal sellswords are as rare as virgin whores, Sansa. Don't be so daft." The queen quickly turned her attention to the wine provided her by the servants in the room, giving Sansa the chance to focus on praying for the lives the king and his mother were so willing to waste.

Kneeling in prayer with the others, Sansa's thoughts roamed toward Sandor and what he had said in the Great Hall. "I love you. And I will protect you to my dying breath, Sansa." His sudden outburst had caught Sansa off guard, she hadn't been prepared for anything as complicated as a sort of love from or for Sandor. I didn't even say anything back. She berated herself as she prayed for his life and the lives of all the men who were outside the Red Keep fighting for their lives.

"Sansa," Cersei's voice rang through Sansa's head. All ready? "Come here, Little Dove." Sansa stood and sat at Cersei's side. "What are you doing?"

"Praying, Your Grace."

"Oh, you're just perfect, aren't you? What exactly are you praying for?'

"For the gods to have mercy on us all."

"On all of us? Including me? What about Joffrey?" Cersei narrowed her eyes at Sansa, studying her as if she were looking for a reason to berate the girl.

"I love Joffrey with all my-"

"Oh do shut up. I learned a long time ago that prayer is a waste of a time. The gods don't listen. They watch and wait for us to do what we always do, fail. You don't get anything out of praying, only out of action. Here," she handed Sansa a glass of wine. "Drink." Sansa didn't question it and drank until she felt lightheaded, her mind wandering once again to the man who said he had loved her. I hope he's okay. I pray by the old gods and the new that he comes back.

It had all happened so fast. One second, Joffrey and his uncle, Tyrion had been bickering like two spoilt children and the next, Blackwater Bay was glowing green with Wildfire. Sandor's scars started to twitch and his anxiety spiked at the sight of the flames. For fucks sake. IT HAD TO BE FIRE! He closed his eyes and sighed, the boy king laughing hysterically as the enemy burned. Just focus, dog. You have a bigger cause, now. He had been thinking about what had happened between he and Sansa, how she hadn't ridiculed him or even pulled away when he had kissed her, but now his thoughts were focused solely on the green flames that threatened to break him.

Half of Stannis's fleet was ablaze, the wildfire spreading between both the enemy's ships along with what was left of Joffrey's own naval force, and yet dark shapes were still moving through the charred ruins of the riverfront towards the Mud Gate. Tyrion and Joffrey started arguing when a runner came panting up the steps.

"My lord, hurry!" He threw himself to one knee in front of Joffrey. "Stannis's forces have landed on the tourney grounds, hundreds! They're bringing a ram up to the King's Gate."

Sandor heard Tyrion curse before he pointed his stubby finger at Sandor. "You. You're going to command those forces! Now go!" Sandor grunted, leading the boy king straight into danger, giddy giggles escaping Joffrey's mouth at the idea of killing his uncle's men.

BOOM! Joffrey's nervous scream echoed over the battlements. "What are they doing!? Kill them all!" His voice cracked as another hit on the gates from the ram echoed through the gatehouse square. The groaning of the hinges on the gates sounded like the moans of a dying giant, sending Joffrey into yet another fit. "Dog! Stop them!" Sandor rolled his eyes, sending men out to meet Stannis's in the green light.