Megena found herself at the end of the long hall, staring up into the eyes of Sandor. "He's here. I should have left." Megena said.
"I'm sorry! I thought he'd be gone longer!" he said, taking her hand in his.
"Keep your hands from me, you foul dog!" she shouted, "I hate you." She placed the key into the keyhole of Gregor's door. She opened the door, and as she stepped into the room, she gasped in shock. On every wall hung the head of some great, large, felled beast. As frightening as it appeared to be, Megena was impressed by her future husbands skill in hunting. On the wall nearest his large bed, stood a set of armor. Megena ran her hand over the steel, and smiled. 'I did not think armor could be made so large' she thought. Resting against the wall was a great sword, one taller than she. To her, this room was as a knight's room should be. Part armory, part bedchamber. Familiar with the room, Megena quickly went to her own and fetched a tiny dagger-like tool, clean linen, water, and the special mint-scented slave Duilya made. As she returned to Gregor's room, she laid everything out on a large, high table, and awaited his arrival. Hearing his steps coming up the stairs, Megena quickly tied back her hair and stood.
"Good. Ready for the-"
Megena curtsied, "Yes, I am ready. Please, lay on the bed and raise your shirt." she said, rolling up the sleeves of her robe.
Gregor got into his bed carefully, and raised his shirt, exposing the small wound on his side. "Come on then." he said.
Megena walked to his side, the small bowl of clean water and linen in her hand. Again, Gregor found himself staring at her and thinking, 'I shall keep this one.'
"Are you ready, Ser?" she asked.
He glared up at her in response. With the damp rag in her hand, she looked at the wound. "Gods,this has gone untreated for too long." she said, "it looks to be infected, Ser."
"Clean it out then." he grunted.
Megena looked to him with worry in her eyes, "I'll have to open the wound, to drain it. It may hurt."
"I'm always in pain, woman. Get the fuck on with it!"
Megena nodded, and from the table took her tiny dagger. With a steady, determined hand she placed the dagger on Gregor's wound. Then, as gently as she could she dragged the blade down the length of the wound. "Gods!" Gregor exclaimed, as the wound began to seep blood and foul-smelling pus. Megena placed the small blade on the night table, as she tried her best to stifle her vomit. Never had she smelled something so foul. Megena then found herself taking the rag, and squeezing the wound gently, draining it of pus. Gregor was cursing in pain as she soaked the rag in the bowl of water. "Are you alright, Ser?" she asked.
"Fucking hurts." he said.
Megena then took another rag, and placed the soothing salve on another piece of clean linen. "This may sting a bit." she said, as she held the linen above his wound.
"Just get it over with."
Megena nodded, and placed the linen on his wound. He hissed in pain, and as he raised his hand, Megena cowered in fear. She feared that he was going to strike, but instead, he gripped his sheet.
"Would you like me to soak your bandage in the salve, Ser?" she asked.
"Fine."
A few silent minutes passed as Megena prepared the bandage. "It's done, Ser. I'll need you to sit up." she said.
Gregor sat up in the bed, and watched her as she knelt in the bed behind him. He smiled as he watched her tiny hands made quick work of wrapping the linen around his waist. "Done." she said, leaving the bed and standing beside him on the floor.
Gregor turned his head so that he could see her better, and stared at her tiny frame. 'Prettiest thing I've ever seen.' he thought as he looked on her face. "Remove your robe." he said.
Megena closed her eyes and with a trembling hand untied her robe. As it fell to the floor, her terror filled blue eyes met his lust-filled black.
"You'll do." he said. "Turn around."
Megena slowly turned, suddenly more ashamed of her scarred back than ever before. "What in the seven hells is that?!" Gregor asked as he looked on her terribly scarred back.
"My father, he threw oil upon me." she said.
"Ah." he said, suddenly disappointed that someone else had killed her father before he did. "You can put your robe back on."
Megena bent down, and quickly dressed herself. "I'll leave you to rest, Ser." Megena said, walking to the door.
"You can finish your sewing in here." he said, drawing his blanket over himself.
"As you command, Ser." she said, leaving the room.
"You alright?!" Sandor asked. "Did he hurt you?"
"No." Megena said, taking her white dress and sewing kit in hand. "I tended to his wound."
"Are you going to bed?" he asked.
"No. He wishes to watch me as I sew." she answered.
Duilya, bearing a tray of food said, "How strange. Let's go on girl, best not to keep him waiting for too long."
Megena smiled sadly at Sandor as she walked up the stairs, Duilya behind her.
"Are you sure that you'll be alright, love?" Duilya asked as they neared the door.
"I'll be fine. He shall not hurt me." Megena said as she knocked quietly on his door. "It is Megena, Ser."
She opened the door slowly, and with Duilya entered the room. "Why are you here, you sea-hag?" Gregor asked, "I wish to be left alone with my bride."
Duilya set the tray of food and drink on the table, "Just bringing you food and wine, Ser. Goodnight."
Megena sat on the floor near the fireplace, and began to mend her white dress. For nearly thirty minutes, Gregor lay in bed, his brow furrowed as he watched Megena at her sewing. He took pleasure in how innocent she appeared, in her beauty, and the way she bit her lower lip as she worked. He also took great pleasure in watching the flames dance across her pale skin, how it caused her golden hair to glow.
"Shit." she cursed, as she poked herself on the tip of her finger with her needle.
She cursed two more times before Gregor said, "Keep it down, would you?"
"I am sorry, Ser. Would you like any food or drink?" she asked.
"Wine." he said, watching her rise and walk towards the table. "You are to have some as well."
Megena nodded, and poured two glasses of red wine. As she walked to his bedside, she could feel his hard, black eyes burning holes through her robe. "Your wine, ser." she said, offering him a glass.
He took it in his hands, "Small hands." he said, as his finger brushed against her hand.
"I'm sorry, Ser." she said.
"Not your fault." he said. He then set his drink on his night table, but as he returned to a sitting position on his bed, he hissed in pain. "Fucking hell." he said.
"Do you need something for the pain, Ser?" she asked.
"No. This pain is nothing compared to the headaches." he grunted, laying himself carefully down on his bed.
"Headaches, Ser?" she asked.
"Been having them since I was twelve." he said.
"I am sorry Ser. My mother, she had headaches for a few months before she passed." Megena said as she stared in to her glass of wine.
"Met your mother once. Pretty woman." he said, and for an unknown reason, he wished to offer her comfort.
"She was." Megena said, remembering her mothers face.
"Like your look better. The eyes." he said.
"Thank you." she smiled.
Gregor yawned, and positioned his head better on the pillow.
"Do you need anything before I leave, Ser?" she asked.
"No, I'm fine. Come to my room in the morning, you'll be needing to change the dressing." he said.
"Very well, goodnight, Ser." she said, leaving the room.
Megena returned to her room, and saw that Sandor was sitting on her bed, waiting for her.
"Girl." he said.
"Man."
He reached out to her, and took her tiny hand in his. "You alright?"
"I am fine, Sandor. He was kind to me, in his own way." she said, smiling up at his worried face.
"Lucky you. The first one was dead the first night she was here." Sandor said.
Megena smiled sadly, "I am tired, Ser."
Together, they got into her bed, and placed themselves beneath the blankets. Sandor then began to kiss her neck, and placed his large hand on her belly. "Gods, you are perfect."
"Stop, Sandor." she said, moving his hand off of her. "We cannot."
"Why?!" he asked. "He's sleeping, and will stay asleep for a day."
"I cannot be unfaithful to him, Sandor. I must first bear his child." she said, sitting up in the bed.
"He will tear you in half on your wedding night. That is what he has done to every woman he has been with!" he said, rising out of the bed.
"Then I shall accept that fate." she said, also getting out of the bed. "Please, you may sleep beside me."
"No. I want to love you all the night, Megena." he said, walking to her side, and taking her by the waist. "I've waited too long for this, for someone to-"
"Someone to...what?" she asked.
"You know." he said.
"Say the words, Sandor." she said, looking up into his eyes.
"I love you, alright?" he said.
"I knew you were telling the truth." she said.
Sandor then kissed her gently on the lips, "You never know, he may not decide to marry you. I could ask..."
"You have not seen the way he stares at me. He shall make a wife out of me."
"Or he is just thinking of how many times he shall rape you before her murders you." Sandor said, releasing Megena from his arms.
"Thank you for those words of comfort, Sandor." she said. "Leave me."
"You want me to leave? After I just told you...why?!" he asked, taking her by the shoulders. "Am I just some man who you'll have around just for when you fancy a decent fuck?"
Megena looked to him with a face of thunder, "Get out. Now. Get out!"
"You are far worse than any whore I have been with."
"I said get out, you ugly beast!" she shouted.
That night, both Megena and Sandor shed bitter tears as they went to their rests.
A/N:
Gregor. Greeeeegorrrrrr. Now, what do you make of his interaction with Megena? And, Sandor and Megena's little fight...shall they stay mad at each other? Let me know! As always, thanks for reading! -M