Sandor
The ceremony was long and dull as anything slightly linked to the faith could be expected to be. Even the singing was annoying. Sandor had never liked religious hymns and those two buggering singers would certainly not change his mind on the matter. It was worth suffering through these boring formalities though: the girl would be his very soon – truly his – and her damn parents would finally be done interfering between him and his little bird from now on.
While holding back a yawn, Sandor glanced at his pretty bride beside him: her big blue eyes were wide as she stared at the septon with a huge smile on her luscious lips. She obviously enjoyed this shit. Good, at least there'll be one of us remembering this bloody ceremony if ever our pups have any question about it. The simple idea of becoming a father almost made Sandor laugh instantly, but he knew better than to burst into laughter in the middle of his own wedding. As he was still struggling to control his surge of mirth, Sandor's eyes were caught by the perfect shape of his wife-to-be's arse. He couldn't wait for the blessed moment when he would finally stroke it firmly as he had so often envisioned he should. Sandor's eyes then quickly travelled to the girl's breasts. They too needed stroking, he mused. Her milky teats weren't that big, but they would fill his hands nicely. Fuck me! I shouldn't think about that just now. Sandor sighed and instantly turned his gaze to the fat septon that was conducting the prayers, hoping that this would help to calm his growing erection.
The prayers were finally over and the little bird's father stood up to join his daughter at the front of the sept. As the smith removed the maiden cloak from the girl's frail shoulders, Sandor hastily took his place behind her while jealously eyeing the other man. Move on, it's my turn protecting her, old man, Sandor thought, even though his new father-in-law was only slightly older than him.
The dog that he was had never been fond of sacred vows and all of that knightly bullshit, but these vows were different as Sandor knew that he would care to keep his word on them. As he recited them, he couldn't help but smile as if he was a fucking squire, but bugger them all if they thought that he looked like a damned fool: the girl was his now, she was his little bird, his wife. Too bad the wedding protocol doesn't require that I fuck her right there on the altars, he mused while chastely kissing his bride.
Done with the first ordeal, now the fucking feast awaits. Calling it a feast was a bit of an overstatement as Sandor had only bought a pig to be roasted with vegetables, a few loaves of bread, some sweets and a whole lot of wine, but smallfolk would never dare to complain of such a meal. The food had been delivered to the forge since Sandor couldn't bloody invite them all in his chambers at the Red Keep. His in-laws had seemed pleased with this arrangement but Sandor himself didn't give a rat's arse about these kinds of details; all he truly wanted was to skip the damned feast and jump straight to the bedding, and he would have done it without a second thought if not for the sake of his little bird's happiness.
As they went out of the sept, Sandor's wife was holding his thick arm while leaning her head against it. She was about to leave him and walk toward the cart when the dark man stopped her by grabbing her small hand in his big one.
"Where do you think you're going, little bird? You're coming with me on Stranger this time."
He pulled her closer to him and caressed her soft hair, admiring its beauty for an instant before scooping her up by the waist and lifting her up onto his stallion's saddle. The girl squeaked and giggled all the while, the sound of her melodic voice heating Sandor's blood as he tried to imagine how it would sound moaning and crying in pleasure. Soon, dog, soon. Be patient.
A voice disrupted him from his thoughts: "I suppose we'll meet at the forge, Lord and Lady Clegane," Sandor heard the smith say, while smiling at his daughter.
The girl happily giggled again. "Yes, father," she answered while waving at the rest of her family as they were entering the cart.
Sandor watched as the cart moved away from them before suddenly turning his attention back to his wife who was sitting on Stranger's saddle while looking down at him for once. She was glowing: her deep blue eyes were shining with bliss and her full pink lips were innocently smiling at him as if he was everything that she had ever dreamed of. She's a fool to be so delighted at marrying a bloody dog like me, but I'd be a bigger fool to complain. His little bird was worth far more than him and completely clueless about it, but Sandor would never be the one to tell her. A dog would never leave such a juicy bone once his teeth were set on it.
"Are we going… my husband?" the little bird asked shyly.
Seven bloody hells! How could anyone be that adorable and that arousing at the same time? Sandor grinned at her as he jumped on his horse's back and lost no time before setting his hands on her sides while breathing in the feminine scent that oozed from her beautiful reddish hair. Everything is sweet and perfect about this girl, he reflected as he kissed her soft white throat. She jerked her head sideways, generously offering more of herself but Sandor was craving the taste of her plump lips instead. One of his hands went to cup her cheek and gently turned her head, their mouths then met with passion and Sandor felt himself instantly grow hard in his breeches. Nothing bloody new with this girl. He'd better stop before he fucked her in some dark alley, but it was easier to think than to do. At last, he painfully broke from their kiss and took Stranger's reins in hands while his wife was leaning into him. The girl stiffened for an instant before blushing a pretty shade of pink. She felt it. No fucking wonder, I'm hard as a rock.
The mouth-watering smell of the roasting pig welcomed them as they entered the Street of Steel. Some onlookers were glancing jealously in the dead animal's direction as the maids and squires that would follow the couple on their journey were turning it on a spit in front of the forge. Sandor's new staff had been at work for a few hours now and the meat was almost ready to be eaten. A travelling cart that was filled with the little bird's belongings and the few things that Sandor cared to bring along with him was parked not far from the forge and the burned man rode Stranger toward it.
"See that mare there, little bird? She's yours. Do you like her?" Sandor asked, while pointing in the direction of an elegant bay horse that was drinking from a watering-place not far from them.
"Yes, of course, only… I don't know how to ride," the shy girl almost whispered while her cheeks coloured once again.
How could he have not thought of that? Commoners, especially women, usually didn't own horses. At the most, they would wander around the streets on donkeys or mules, but they didn't ride well enough to travel across the realm.
"You'll learn later then. We'll go to Woodbridge on Stranger's back."
"I could also travel in the cart, if you prefer."
"Piss on that. Too bloody slow. The squires and maids will join us later with our things. Take only your travelling clothes in a satchel; you'll have the rest a few days after our arrival. I have no intention of spending more time than necessary on the road." As he said these words, Sandor jumped off of his stallion.
The girl pouted. "What about the mare?"
She likes her already, Sandor thought proudly to himself, before grabbing the girl's tiny waist and smirking at her. "Don't worry yourself, pretty bird; the squires will bring her along with them." He then lifted her from the saddle but didn't put her on the ground right away; instead he kept her in his arms and kissed her softly.
A whiny cry interrupted Sandor as he was about to slide his tongue against his wife's. "That's gross! You should hide yourselves to do things like that! Eww! Sansaaa!"
With a grunt of annoyance, Sandor looked down at where the cry had come from while setting his little bird on the ground. "Don't look if you don't like it," he rasped. It was his wife's skinny sister; she had already dirtied herself beyond recognition in comparison to the clean little girl that he had seen at the sept. "You little toad," he added with a sneer.
The toad's eyes widened in fury. "I'm not a toad!" she yelled at him with her hands tightly closed into fists as if she was ready to hit him.
"Stop that, Arya!" the little bird said, vainly trying to calm her sister.
A coarse laugh came out of Sandor's burned lips. "A toad that tries to bite! I've seen everything now. The girl thinks she's a she-wolf but her claws are too soft." He barked an even huskier laugh at that. "You take after that bloody mother of yours: both of you have a liking for interrupting your sister and I at the worst moments possible."
The skinny girl eyed him with hate before running away from them and joining her younger brothers who were playing not far from there.
A table had been set in front of the house since it was a warm day and its kitchen was far too small for the food, the whole family and the staff to fit in. As he was inspecting the set-up from afar, Sandor felt a delicate hand softly touch his calloused one and he grabbed it instantaneously.
"Come," he whispered in the little bird's hair while drawing her to the table.
The couple sat next to one another and Sandor yanked his wife's chair closer to his before putting his arm around her shoulders. His in-laws and their oldest son joined them shortly after, while the mother was calling for the younger children to stop playing and come eat with them. The squires and maids were serving the food and pouring wine into everyone's goblets as Sandor eyed the little bird's parents, noticing their evident uneasiness at being attended to with a malicious pleasure. After a few moments of becoming accustomed to it, the commoners all seemed delighted as they greedily ate their food in silence.
The smith was the first one to talk. "So, my lord, as you told me, you intend to leave King's Landing right after you have eaten. In how many days do you predict that you'll reach Woodbridge?"
"Less than a week, I'd wager," Sandor answered before taking a long swig from his wine goblet.
There was no use in staying with them for the bedding since the little bird's family assuredly and understandably didn't care to undress the girl themselves and to hear her moans and cries reverberate through their modest house as Sandor dutifully eradicated any trace of her maidenhead.
"Good, I hope you won't meet any bandits on your way," added the smith while cutting some meat with his dagger.
A rough laugh escaped the burned man's mouth. "I'd be afraid for those fuckers instead if I were you. Anyone who attacks me or your daughter is a dead man." Sandor glanced at his wife while issuing his warning and she smile sweetly at him before burrowing her head into his chest as if he had just recited a buggering love poem in her honour.
The little bird's mother appeared somewhat irritated at hearing her new son-in-law's retort, but she nonetheless smiled stiffly at him and said with a voice weak with emotion, "That's good to know. Take good care of her, my lord."
"I will," Sandor answered, suddenly serious while tightening his arm around his wife's shoulders.
For an instant, the mother's smile appeared to be almost genuine but they were disrupted by the maids as they arrived with the sweets and noisily set the large plates on the table.
"Mmm, this is so good! What is it?" asked the little bird while tasting a small and frosted cake.
"Lemon cake. Never tasted it before?"
She only shook her head in response.
"I'll make sure we'll always have some at Woodbridge," Sandor assured her while caressing her hair.
He had told his little wife's parents that he wanted to leave the city early in order to put as many leagues as possible between him and King's Landing by the time twilight came, but Sandor had shamelessly lied. He usually didn't like lying but this time, he had had no choice. There was no fucking way in all the buggering seven hells that after more than a moon's turn of obsessing over the little bird, he could wait until the night to finally undress her and take her as she needed to be taken. The King's Gate was just behind them when Sandor stopped Stranger in front of an inn and jumped off the large horse.
"Why are we stopping here? I thought we would be riding until dark." The little bird seemed nervous, as any maiden had a right to be moments before her bedding.
Sandor eyed her with what he knew was a look of hunger; he felt as if he were a starved animal finally within reach of his prey. "The feast is not over for me, little bird. I want a taste of you now."
She stiffened under his touch as he grabbed her waist and lifted her from the back of the stallion. When the girl's feet were on solid ground, Sandor took one of her soft little hands and dragged her inside the inn. She wasn't looking at him anymore and appeared slightly lost as they entered the common room and approached the counter where the innkeeper was waiting. Poor anxious little bird, he mused, knowing very well that her uneasiness wouldn't stop him from fucking her senseless. She was his wife after all and the ice had to be broken, same as her maidenhead. With strong fingers, he gently caressed the little bird's jaw and cheek and she raised her eyes at the gesture to look at him while smiling shyly. That's better.
Sandor turned his eyes on the innkeeper. "A room. The best you have. With a fireplace and a featherbed if you have it. And some wine."
"You have the gold?" asked the old woman at the counter.
"Aye. My horse is outside. Make sure he's fed and brought to the stables," he said, while tossing a few coins at her.
"As you bid, my lord," the woman answered, before yelling some commands at a skinny lad not far from her.
"Follow me, my lord, I'll show you the way." She grabbed a skin of wine and went up the stairs as fast as her old body allowed her.
Sandor gazed down at his little bird; she was biting her lip nervously and he could feel the dampness of her slender hand in his. In one quick movement, he ducked and lifted her into his arms. She squeaked in surprise and her deep blue eyes met his stare. Sandor kissed her throat and she closed her eyes while leaning into his torso with her arms resting around his neck. The man then followed the old woman to their wedding room. I can't believe I'll finally fuck that girl. Sandor was already as hard as he had ever been when he closed the door behind him with his foot.
As carefully as he could, he settled his little bird onto the feather bed. She was all flushed and once again avoiding his gaze. As much as he felt bad for her, Sandor was also queerly aroused by her maiden shyness. He had never had a maid before, he suddenly realised. It would be hard for him to control himself and not to hurt her more than necessary but Sandor would nonetheless do his best, even if he knew all too well that the battle was lost in advance.
His hand went searching for the wineskin that was laid on a small table in the corner of the dim room. As he was drinking greedily from it, Sandor decided that he should open the shutters: he wanted to admire every detail of his new wife's young body in the clear light of day. It was a sunny afternoon and so, as he left the window, the room was entirely lit.
"Here, have some wine, little bird. It might help you relax a bit."
The girl sat at the edge of the bed and took the wineskin that her husband was offering her. She nursed it for a moment before giving it back to him wordlessly. Sandor sat next to her and turned his head to appreciate her stunning beauty. She was shyer than ever, wringing her hands while biting her lip once more.
After a few moments, Sandor gently pushed her down on the bed and laid on his side next to her while leaning on one elbow, his other arm loosely set around her. He kissed her and she parted her lips for him but as he broke from their embrace, she kept her eyes tightly shut.
Sandor cupped her cheek while caressing her chin with his thumb. "Look at me, little bird," he demanded softly. She opened her eyes at once and the newlyweds stared at each other for a few seconds.
"See, it's not that bad. Don't be afraid, little bird, I won't hurt you." Sandor knew it wasn't completely true, but the girl needed to be reassured.
"I know that, Sandor," she answered, smiling timidly as she raised her hands to reach his broad shoulders.
The little bird's eyes were still somewhat frightened but Sandor could also distinguish blind trust gleaming behind their veil of nervousness. This realisation reassured him, and he pressed his burned lips to her luscious ones once again. She kissed him back and relaxed under his touch while he caressed her silky hair and neck. As the little's bird small hands were getting higher on his back, Sandor grabbed one of her breasts with one of his large hands. The girl moaned softly into his mouth, giving him all the encouragement that he needed to go further in his enterprise. His fingers instantly went searching for the laces of her dress and as he found them, he tried to untangle the mess that they were in as best he could in his frantic state. After what had appeared to him as an epic and interminable battle, the bloody laces finally yielded under his hands. Sandor felt the rabid dog in him take control over his mind as he gripped the fabric of the girl's fine dress and pulled it from her lean body before throwing it carelessly onto the floor beside the bed in one fast movement. He also made short work of her smallclothes, treating them as if they were enemies to be eliminated and they quickly joined the gown in a shambolic pile on the floor. Calm down, dog! You'll scare the poor girl to death. His wife tried to cover her breasts with her hands and moved her thighs upward in an attempt to hide her cunt but Sandor put a stop to that, pushing her arms away with his hands and getting on top of her to hold down her legs.
"Don't hide yourself from me, little bird. I want to see you," he rasped softly against her hair. She listened but lowered her eyes while her whole body coloured in embarrassment. This girl has no fucking reason to be ashamed of her looks, Sandor thought, almost angrily.
The little bird was lying naked as her nameday beneath him and Sandor took a deep breath while drinking in the sight of her perfection. Seven bloody hells, she's even better than I remembered, he realised, while gazing at her round and creamy teats and flat stomach. Her little pink nipples were pointing at the sky in the most arousing fashion as Sandor lightly pinched one of them between his forefinger and his thumb.
"You're fucking perfect, girl, you don't have to be ashamed."
The girl bashfully lifted her eyes to gaze at her husband. "Really? I am… to your taste?"
A laugh of astonishment came out of Sandor's mouth. "Did you ever doubt it? Fuck, girl. I turned half-mad a dozen times while waiting for you to be mine. I even left the buggering Kingsguard for you without a bloody second thought."
"You left the Kingsguard for me?" the little bird said weakly, clearly astounded by the news.
Sandor grinned at her naivety. "Why did you think I left them? A lord's titles are not worth spit to me, all I ever wanted was to get you." He was now stroking her soft skin, taking his time as he explored the wonders of her young body from thighs to teats before adding, "And now, I want to take you."
The girl tensed at hearing that and flushed from head to toe. I'd be nervous too if I were her, with a bloody beast looming over me. Sandor leaned closer to his bride and pressed his mouth against hers. She responded immediately and opened her plump lips as if she was begging for his tongue to invade her hungry mouth. After a few minutes he broke from their kiss and stood up on his knees as he suddenly realised that he hadn't even really glanced at her cunt yet. The girl stiffened once again and locked her thighs together.
"Relax, little bird," Sandor told her as he separated them with his strong hands.
A deep blush coloured his wife's creamy skin but she didn't resist and let him open her legs completely. While fondling the inside of her thighs, Sandor gazed at her sweet cunt with a whole new hunger. He knew he had to taste it. The scarred man quickly took his tunic off as the room was getting far too hot and pressed both of the girl's white thighs onto the feather bed while he brought his head closer to her delicious folds. In a moment of passion, Sandor took a deep whiff before plunging his tongue into his wife's cunt and tasting it. The little bird gasped in surprise but quickly began to loosen up as small whimpers came out of her pretty pink lips. Now, this is music that I'll never tire of listening to. With an expert hand, Sandor unlaced his breeches to release his aching cock as his other hand was busy helping his tongue pleasure the girl. He grabbed his manhood and slowly began to stroke it in order to release a bit of his own growing tension as he was determined to take his time to make the experience as enjoyable as possible for his little wife. Sandor knew that he would want to fuck her as often as possible and was hoping that the little bird would share his interest in this activity.
The girl was squirming, her breathing coming faster than before as her soft moans got louder, all to Sandor's extreme satisfaction. He couldn't last much longer; soon, he would have to fuck her and his cock was more than ready to invade that sweet tasting cunt that his tongue was greedily exploring.
"Oh, Sandor…oh…" The little bird had taken a hold of her husband's hair while beginning to wriggle quickly.
She then cried Sandor's name one last time while all of her muscles tensed in ecstasy for a blessed moment, before her whole body relaxed once again. The new husband stared at her, pleased with himself, and went to kiss her plump lips. The girl seemed happy and amazed at the same time but also slightly tired.
"You liked that, did you?" Sandor asked while smirking at his bride.
She nodded and smiled sweetly at him. Sandor rolled on his side and hastily slid out of his breeches before returning to the cradle of his wife's thighs. Her eyes widened as she glanced at her husband's swollen cock for the first time and the man couldn't help but grin at her reaction.
"Now I fuck you, girl. Ready?" he rasped in her ear.
She nodded nervously and Sandor kissed her again as his right hand was leading his rock hard cock into the sweet warmth that lay between her thighs. She was already soaking wet from her previous climax as Sandor slowly thrust his full length inside of his wife's entrance. The girl cried in pain while he groaned in pleasure. Her sweet cunt was so tight that it almost hurt him. Sandor moved his head back and took an instant to gaze at his little bird's pretty face: it was tensed and tears were pearling at the corner of her closed eyelids but she stayed silent and didn't complain. Good girl, Sandor thought proudly while drying her face with his fingers. He softly pressed his mouth on hers again before resuming claiming his husband's right on her.
It wasn't an easy task to stay calm and go as slowly as he had originally planned. In fact, it was bluntly impossible and Sandor quickly lost any control over himself. He grabbed her perfect arse with one strong hand and began fucking her faster and deeper. Small nails started to dig into his broad back and Sandor heard the girl whine in what he read as building pleasure. His breathing was ragged as he stared at his wife; Sandor had never fucked such a goddess and there was no buggering way that he could last any longer.
As his release came upon him, he groaned into his wife's hair, "Oh, Sansa, you're mine now…" He kissed her and she tightened her grip around him.
After a few seconds, Sandor rolled onto his side so as not to crush the girl's fragile body. She went to lean on his torso and he grabbed her waist possessively. A hush had fallen onto the room but he had never felt so good in all of his miserable life. He was even starting to believe that he might have reached a turning point and that his existence could indeed turn out to be not that unpleasant from now on as he finally felt complete. With a grin on his lips, Sandor jerked his head to admire his young wife's beauty and passionately pressed his mouth on hers. When they broke from their kiss, he mused in amazement that even a brute like him could fall in love.
The end
So the story is over… I know some of you wanted me to continue it further so that we would get to see the castle and Sandor and Sansa's domestic life. I'm sorry for not doing it, but I figured it was better to stop while the fic was still good.
There are possibilities that one day I might write an epilogue or something similar but I don't promise anything.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed my first real fic! I'll almost certainly write others in the future, so you might hear from me again very soon!
