Author's note: I'm aware it's still only a short time since the Mountain's attack and it takes longer than a few days to get over something like that. I didn't just want to skip a few months as I want to show how the relationship grows, so I've written this chapter as a series of drabbles. Hope you like it!
The bath
"It's a bath!" Maud exclaimed, looking at the shaped copper tub.
Sandor grunted. "Fucking hope so, that's what I asked for. Saves having to traipse to the bathhouse every week."
Maud grinned stupidly. Although tall, the bath wasn't hugely long. She'd be able to sit in it fairly comfortably, but she imagined Sandor's knees would be up at his shoulders. She flushed, imagining the tall man sponging himself.
"Thank you," she said, touching the cold metal.
Of cakes and sweet things
It was two weeks after the attack and Sandor had finally begun to allow Maud out again. The Mountain had long since returned to Harrenhal, but his brother had still been cautious in allowing Maud to roam the halls unaccompanied.
However, Maud's horror over the event was beginning to fade, and that meant she was starting to go completely stir crazy. After coming back to his room three days in a row to find it completely rearranged, Sandor finally gave in and allowed the girl to walk with him to the kitchen and back.
After a few days of this, she was allowed to make the trips by herself to get breakfast as well as an evening meal when required. Sometimes Sandor would eat in the hall with the other Kingsguard and nobles, but often he would come back to his room.
Maud sometimes felt bad - it was clear he was a man who liked his solitude and she was encroaching on it - but always reminded herself she wasn't there by choice. It was strange, but their relationship had changed since his brother attacked her. They weren't friends, but more like allies. She no longer daydreamed about killing him, and sometimes even looked forward to him getting back in the evenings. Maud blushed as she thought about the dream she had about him. Sandor, she called him now, even in her thoughts. Since he had saved her life, it seemed cruel to call him by his moniker.
She wished there was something she could do to show that she was grateful. Normally she'd but something or make something, but her current predicament as a slave made both difficult.
In lieu of anything else, she began to beg for more cakes from the kitchen. As well as chicken and alcohol, Sandor seemed to have a fondness of sweet things: especially treacle sponge. The cake featured a heavy glug of rum and was so dense Maud could only manage the tiniest of slivers at a time, but the tall man devoured it by the slice. If he suddenly noticed his portion sizes were increasing, he didn't say anything, but Maud hoped he knew each additional slice was a tiny 'thank you'.
In the morning
It was the splash of water that woke him up. His hand instinctively reached over to his side - an old reflex to when his sword lay there, or to check on Maud, he wasn't totally sure. Either way, his hand just felt the crumpled sheet.
He opened one eye to see her in the metal bath. Satisfied, he closed his eye and prepared to go back to sleep until he heard a small moan in amongst the splashes. His eyes flew open and he took in her face - neck propped on the rim of the bath, her eyes were closed and her cheeks slightly flushed. One hand was tightly gripping the side of the bath, while the other was in the water.
It wasn't until the next small, crooning moan that Sandor realised - she was touching herself.
He wasn't used to this. He'd slept with women, some whores, some not, but if he was honest his focus has been purely on himself and his needs, not those of his partners. Some of the whores had moaned, aye, but they had been loud, choreographed noises, not these small sighs.
It was something intimate, not meant for his eyes. And yet he felt slightly indignant: she should have waited until he had left the room to do something like this! He toyed with the idea of making himself known and seeing her squirm but something stopped him.
He had begun to enjoy his evening conversations with the woman, and especially enjoy the sudden increase in cakes he was receiving, which he put down to Maud. If she knew he was watching her do that then she might close up again, and she'd only just started to become good company.
Closing his eyes, his hand drifted across to his hardening cock and he quietly stroked himself to the sounds of her moans.
Punishment
"It's time," he said, gruffly, undoing his belt.
"But we just did it the other day," Maud complained.
Sandor shrugged. "You heard that prick Joffrey. He wanted to hear you being punished twice a week."
Maud sighed and prepared herself as Sandor raised his arm high and brought belt down, landing with a crack. On cue, Maud screamed.
With a nod, the muscular arm rose and slammed the belt towards the bed three more times, each time accompanied by a scream.
As the belt cracked down towards the bed for a fifth time, Maud's cry was smaller, her voice breaking.
"Louder," Sandor hissed, turning to face her.
Crossing her legs in the wooden chair, Maud pulled a face. "My throat hurts."
He raised an eyebrow. "Would it help if I actually belted you?"
She shook her head and took a sip of water. When the belt smacked off the bed frame again, Maud's scream was piercing. "Please, please, no more!" She whimpered loudly, before picking up her embroidery. It was going to be a long night.
Storytelling
"Honestly?" Maud asked, eyeing up the jug of wine on the table.
He grunted, leaning over to let the red liquid slosh into her glass. "I'm no liar."
"I'm not saying you are. But really, you were that young when you signed up to fight? You were still a boy, really."
Sandor shrugged. "You're old enough to swing a sword properly and you're a man, that's what my dad thought. What the fuck else am I going to do with my life?"
It was Maud's turn to shrug.
"My brother Horace killed someone once. They were drunk, and decided it was a good idea to practice with a bow and arrow. It was an accident - he was aiming for a straw dummy. He didn't even hit the boy's heart. It was the leg, but the bleeding wouldn't stop." She shuddered as she remembered the blood, and gulped her wine.
"What about you?" Sandor asked, refilling her cup.
"I've never killed anyone. You were going to be my first," Maud admitted. The wine was making her feel lightheaded. It wasn't the light drink she was used to, but had a stronger, more sour, flavour.
He snorted as he drained his own cup as if it were water. "Too bad your arrow didn't pierce through my helm, eh?"
"I didn't mean then," Maud said, her tongue loosened by the drink. "I meant later. With the poison." It hit her what she said and she cringed. Fuck, she thought.
She was expecting to be beaten, at least, for this. For the belt to crack her for real. What she didn't expect was for Sandor to stare at her incredulously before bursting into guffaws of laughter.
"You were going to poison me? You used to fucking taste my food, you dumb cunt."
"It was slow acting," she defended herself. "I'd have had time to take an antidote and escape."
His laughter turned into hiccups. "What if I wasn't hungry?"
"It was chicken! You're always bloody hungry for chicken!"
He nodded to himself. "Aye." He gave Maud a strange look, almost respect. "Remind me not to piss you off."
No hero
"The little bird's bleeding. Someone take her back to her cage," Sandor muttered, as he deposited a shaking Sansa.
"Well done, Clegane!" Tyrion cheered, as ladies began to fuss over the Stark girl.
"I didn't do it for you," he replied, watching the redhead being taken away. What was it about the girl that awoke a weakness in him?
Stupid cunting King, he thought as he walked away. He can give all the insults in the world but a few comments and a pile of shite and he declares fucking war on a bunch of peasants.
"You seem to be making a habit of saving damsels in distress," a voice drawled from behind him. Sandor turned on his heel to see that flaming eunuch standing there.
"This place seems to be causing a lot of fucking distress," he sighed. "I'm not a bloody hero, so don't make me part of your schemes."
He stormed off towards his room. Towards his other bloody damsel.
