Chapter 10

It seemed like an eternity. Her eyes closed in desperation, she heard murmurs around her. Leana looked like a prisoner on her way to her death, rather than a blushing bride on her walk down the aisle to meet her knight in shining armour.

She was still crying silently, "It will be alright girl," Ser Barristan murmured to her repeatedly. What a lie, he thought.

"Help me Ser, please, I don't want to be married." she replied piteously. Should she run? How could she run? She could hardly walk from her broken ribs and bruises. Ser Barristan felt a lump in his throat.

"Kneel girl," Tyrion said to her as soon as they reached the altar where the septum was standing, not that she could stand much longer. Tyrion took his place on her right while Ser Barristan and Bronn stepped aside. Tyrion could felt her painful grip on his hand.

Still kneeling with her head bowed, she opened her eyes and saw the Hound's boots – right next to her. She could not breathe, Gods helped her. With all her courage, not wanting to broke down and sob uncontrollably – she looked up at the man standing next to her, her future husband, her vision was still blurry from her tears.

Sandor Clegane was about to help the girl stand, he could hear her cries and pleads as she entered the Throne Hall. He looked down at the hooded figure and he was taken back, his mouth gaped open for a few seconds.

He saw her face; gone was the mask, he saw the same warm green eyes and sweet lips, her black hair braided - but her face...she was beautiful, his bride wore no rouge or any make up like any ladies of the court; even with tears streak down her face Leana Stark was beautiful.

There was no horrible scar, apart from the fresh cut on her lips, bridge of her nose and bruised cheeks, which she got from the beating. He had a sudden urge to take her away from this hell.

He reached down for her hand and pulled her up gently, he wiped her tears with his thumb; he felt her soft skin – his wife's skin. She swayed, she felt weak and was still crying. Sandor pulled out a small cloth and wiped her tears again.

The Queen was stunned when she saw Leana's face – along with the people in court, she heard a sudden increase in noise, people discussing her face. Joffrey was shocked, The Mountain looked like he was about to kill someone – The hound could not stop looking at his wailing bride. I am a lucky dog.

"Is this a trick?" The Queen looked at Tyrion.

"No sister. This is Lady Leana Stark of Winterfell. She has been under my care since she was nine and yes I know what she looked like...and as you instructed, I took her mask off; you can see her bruised face and body. This is Leana Stark."

"No scar." The Queen said to herself.

"Oh there was sister, but it had healed but we decided she should keep wearing the mask," Tyrion lied as he never seen her sister that angry.

Ten years ago Tyrion Lannister saw the little Stark's face and he knew there was nothing wrong with her, it's the opposite actually, she was the cutest thing he'd ever seen in his life. Benjen Stark wanted her to wear the mask to avoid unwanted attention on his only daughter – and it worked. No one was interested in the girl because they thought her ugly.

Nevertheless, the Queen asked the high septum to start.

The ceremony was a blur to the Lady Stark; by the time the septum was done, she felt like dying. Her knees shook, her chest hurt, if not for Sandor's grip on her waist, she would have crumbled to the ground for he was holding her up.

The whole time she was crying – actually she was wailing! The septum had to stop a couple of time because of her wails.

She thought it was over, but then she saw Ser Gregor Clegane with his vile demeanour approached her. Sandor Clegane felt the woman fidgeted even closer to him, he saw Leana looked at him just for a few seconds as if saying don't let your brother hurt me again.

He squeezed her waist to comfort her, telling her that he was there to protect her before he had to receive the cloak from his brother. He liked that she trusted him enough to move closer to him.

Sandor Clegane received the yellow cloak from his brother and draped it over his wife. He commissioned the cloak himself, it has his House Sigils of three black dogs, but he had dire wolf embroidered at the cloak's nape in dark silver.

It was almost dusk when the ceremony ended, to be followed by a wedding feast. She wanted to go back to her room but they were expected to attend. Bronn stepped up to help her walk to the great hall for the feast, but he received a deathly glare from The Hound – I can take care of my wife.

"Alright, calm down now. I was just trying to help – no need to be hostile," Bronn calmly rebuked Sandor. He was quite pleased that the ugly dog was quite protective of her.

"Are you in pain?" He asked her and she looked up at him and nodded.

With one swift swing, he carried her, she was as light as a feather. She was shivering in his arms, her head throbbed – just for seconds, she rested her head on his chest and for seconds she felt safe as perhaps no one could hurt her anymore. Her new cloak actually made her feel warmer and protected.

He gently lowered her unto the seat and he sat right next to her. Sandor heard a meek thank you from her in between her hiccups. She looked damn miserable. He noticed people were looking at her face and she was very conscious, he heard her asking her uncle about the whereabouts of her mask and the imp said it's been destroyed.

Liar, her tattered mask is in his possession, he looked at it every night for the past two weeks in his drunken stupor before he slept.

The Queen and Joffrey did not attend the feast, leaving their seats empty. Long tables were laid filling the great hall, laden with food, wine and ale. Someone offered her wine and she drank it like which warmed her up, she pulled her hood back, exposing her braided hair and face even more, feeling a bit warm – rested her back and then she saw the Mountain, looking at her.

Without realising she grabbed Sandor's hand which was resting beside her. He noticed her grip and looked up; Gregor was staring at her as he drank his wine and with woman sitting on his lap.

"You are safe," he said to her, as he hold her hand.

The Mountain shoved the wench aside and he walked towards the couple. Tyrion who was seated next to his niece saw Ser Gregor approaching them, "What the hell does he want now?!" and Bronn stepped closer to Tyrion – ready.

The Mountain brought with him a jug of ale; he cheered for the couple and offered it to Sandor which he accepted, then he shifted his attention to Leana, "Cheers to you, Leana Clegane," a shiver run down Leana's spine, she did not like him at all.

"And how did you get so lucky, dog?" he looked at Sandor.

"He is not a dog." Leana spoke up.

Gregor looked at her, "I like a woman with spirit." And he walked away. His departure left her feeling more relax, she pulled her hand from Sandor's but he didn't let go.

The feast was a merry occasion, soon she was calmer and finally her face was dry from tears; She had one hand on Sandor's and the other on Tyrion's. Bronn who was drinking near the head table notice changes in Leana's demeanour, yes she was still uncomfortable and was probably still in shocked for being married to the brute but she looked much calmer. The Dog was sitting really close to her.

The Dog could not stop looking at the woman next to him, how on seven hells he got that lucky!? She looked really sad and scared, her chest heaves up and down from the crying.

She was stunning though she looked damn pitiful and frail - his bride had been crying probably for weeks; eyes and nose swollen and red. Now that they were seated so close, he managed to study her face: her greenish blue bruised cheeks and split lips and cut, a rage overcome him.

"Sandor," she called him. He just loves hearing his name from her lips.

"Sandor...I want to see...White, please. You promised," she looked at him.

He nodded, "You will...I promise,"

"Tonight,"

"Not tonight," he looked at her strangely.

"Why not?" She insisted but he ignored her. It took her a good minute to understand him. Sandor thought she looked like she was about to faint; her face paled, fear in her eyes...she realised, the bedding ceremony! The poor lass was terrified.

Leana started drinking her wine like they were water to soothe her nerve, she was nervous and scared, told herself it was no big deal. She'll just have to lie with him once and then that's it. She could return to her old life, Sandor Clegane didn't look like a man who wanted a clingy wife anyway.

True, she had been to brothels numerous times, saw and heard all kind of stories but she was still untouched. She was reaching for her fifth cup of wine when a hand stopped her – gently, "I want you sober, Leana...eat," Sandor pushed a plate of food in front of her.

She looked at him and she ate the food given to her; Sandor Clegane smiled as he saw her eating. Gods know how many days she'd gone without food. Just for a while Leana had peace, he saw Tyrion hugged and kissed her forehead, the imp loves her.

Soon, the guests started making loud lewd jokes about the couple and told the Hound it was time to bed his wife. Some of them started howling like a dog, some of them started moaning and groaning. Leana missed the racket as she was talking to Lord Varys, he was asking how was she doing, he was very kind to her.

Sandor Clegane stood up, offered his hand to Leana, She looked at his hand like she never seen a hand before - regardless, but she placed her hand in his palm cautiously, she was confused.

"The feast is not over yet," she said meekly as he pulled her up to a stand. "Where are..."

She squealed in surprised when he scooped her up into his arms. The people cheered loudly and some of them followed the couple back to their chamber.

Sandor looked at his bride in his arms, he saw her eyes wide shut in dismay. He felt sorry for her, "I am not going to hurt you," he whispered to her, wishing that it is true.

Clegane kicked his door opened and stood Leana next to his massive bed, "I'll leave you...to get changed...I'll be back soon." As he walked out and shoved the hooligans away who followed them into their room and closed the door.

Seconds later, Shae entered the room. "Shae!" Leana was so happy to see her, she hugged her.

"I am here to help you get ready Leana, your uncle sent me." Shae smiled at her.

Leana looked around his room, it was bright and spacious with no clutter, she sat timidly at the big bed placed at the furthest corner of the area – she realised the bloody room was thrice the size of her sorry room. There must be dozens of candles burning, her heart warmed slightly, she'd been to his room to thank him for her sword and there were only very few candles. He did this for her...

She kept looking around while Shae helped her change.

Shae's POV

Shae noticed how the Hound looked at her Lady when he thought no one was looking. Most of the time Leana was too busy talking with Tyrion or arguing with Bronn to noticed anything else. She saw how The Hound's face changed when Leana smiled or giggled. Somehow he looked less scary and more of human when he saw her.

Her missus also never treated the Hound like shit or disrespected him like anyone else. Leana always greeted the man with respect if he happened to walk pass her, called him "Sandor," as she nodded to him or "Clegane," when she didn't like him; But Leana was never scared of him like others do and she'd told him off if he was rude.

Unfortunately Shae also noticed Leana was never around to notice how The Hound looked at her after she greeted him, as she was busy planning her day or running around looking for Ser Barristan Selmy or Lord Varys with her dire wolf by her heel. Leana was oblivious to the man's attraction to her.

Once, she was with Leana at the brothel looking for Bronn; Being her usual self, chattering, she didn't pay attention as she walked into Sandor Clegane on his way the brothel; Leana couldn't care less, she apologized for running into him and said good morning to him, but Shae could see the anger on his face to met her in such place.

He shouted at her, swearing and rudely asking her what the fuck she was doing there. The Hound asked her to wait outside while he looked for Bronn. Leana oblivious to how he felt about her, did what her lord uncle always does, she offered to pay for the Hound's whore as a thank you – and the Hound crudely ignored her and left the brothel. Her missus grumbled that the Kingsguard was rude and annoying.

Shae kept talking which Leana hardly hear, "You will be alright, Leana. I've seen how he looked at you...he cares for you, I am sure he'll be gentle with you..."

Leana saw a wardrobe, desk, and a large arm chair – finally her eyes centred on a big oak table beside the door. Weapons, to be exact, knife and swords were placed there – she thought they would be at the armoury – her fingers touched a black steel helmet - his dog helmet. The hound's mask.

It was actually a comfortable spacious room, "We'll move your belongings here – tomorrow," Shae continued.

"No, leave them be." Leana was looking at the black armour; it was full of scratches and minor dents – not like hers. Years ago, in a bid of spoiling her, her uncle commissioned armour for her, but hers was shiny, silvery and light, it was beautiful...unlike his, dark and heavy, it almost looked like it was covered with soot and grime.

Shae looked up and saw Leana touching the armour, "But, leana..."

"Leave them be...I am not sharing his bed or his chamber, just tonight. Or maybe he'll find me a bore and get himself a whore tonight..." She stopped looking at the armour and focus on Shae.

Shae was looking at the Leana with pity. She has no idea how possessive men can be, "as you wish Leana. Come, let me help you get ready,"

An hour later, a loud knock at the door; Leana jumped and looked at the door with trepidation. Shea hugged and kissed her, "It'll be alright, I'll be here tomorrow morning." She quickly unbolted and opened the door.

What a sight! The Hound was waiting by the door; next to him was Tyrion, Bronn and bunch of other Knights. She made her way to Tyrion and stood behind him, "I'll be here for my lady tomorrow morning, Ser." She curtsied to Sandor before he left them and entered his chamber.

Sandor almost laughed out loud when he saw Leana, sitting at the bed's end corner, like a caught rat. He had his bed tucked away in the corner of the room next to large window; the safest place there was, so he could be vigilant and defend himself from intruders.

His wife was sitting in the furthest corner, hugging both legs, chin on her knees – looking damn pitiful.

She was wearing plain white muslin overall, her black hair gleamed from the brushing, draped over her shoulders which almost reach her waist – enveloping her sad face. He had no fucking clue how to break the uncomfortable silence, he didn't want her to be scared of him but he never talked much.

He stood at the edge of the bed, started taking off his armour, "can you help me?"

He didn't hear her reply but he heard her coming across the bed to move closer to him and seconds later he felt her hands on his armour – she knew what she was doing – well, she spend half of her life with Bronn the sellsword.

"You are good with armours," He felt like an idiot making a conversation.

"Yes," She replied, not as talkative as usual – gone are all the bravado.

"You are quiet, wife." The second he uttered the word 'wife' he realised that this beautiful good woman is his.

"Yes,"

Leana moved back in shock as he suddenly turned to face her, "Are you scared of me?"

She couldn't answer right away; she was scared of him but was too embarrassed to say yes, she was scared of no one! After a long while she just shook her head and kept looking down avoiding his eyes.

"Look at me, Leana." Sandor said to her.

"Look at me! Look at my face!" and he saw her eyes on him.

Leana looked up and saw his melted face, she did not see a monster. She saw a lonely man who was horribly bullied by his brother, burned by his own brother; she recalled the countless times people talked about it behind his back. He might be a big man now but Joffrey, the Lannisters and his brother still treated him like a dog.

She touched his scarred face, "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore," he rashly replied.

She could not imagine the pain and the horror. She slowly stroke aside his long thin hair which covered his scar and saw a hole which was his ear, her finger tips grazed his scars; "I am so sorry," her pain was nothing compared to his, she had her uncle Tyrion, protecting her, he had no one!

"How old were you?"

"Six...I think."

She imagined a six year old boy with his face stuffed to hot burning coals; she wondered what he looked like as a boy. She didn't know what she was thinking. Perhaps it's pity, or perhaps it's more... she kissed his scarred brow just above his left eye. Sandor felt her lips on his face.

He swiftly kissed her lips, she pulled back from the shock but he was faster than her, he grab her head with one hand to stop her from moving away from him.

Moments later she was drunk from his kiss, his tongue teased hers. Surely, their kiss went from gentle to urgent, he heard her moan into his mouth, he hurriedly took off his remaining armour with his other had while still kissing her.

He didn't want to break the kiss, he wanted her melting in his arms, willing as it will made things easier. Fuck his boots, belt and all other shit he has to take off. The moment Sandor dropped his armour and was reaching for his boots with one hand, Leana was jarred awake from the sweet surrender...

TBC

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