The chilly air of Winterfell gave you constant goosebumps. You supposed it was better than being on the King's Road as you had been for a month, but you were still cold, even with the new fur cloak you had been gifted by your father. You had a feeling it meant he had bad news for you, he just hadn't told you yet.

You wrapped the cloak tighter around your nightdress as you stepped out of your room and into the hall. Your little sister slept like the dead in the room next to yours. It was only your first night in Winterfell, but you had taken notice of where the guards were placed. It was easy enough to avoid them as you sneaked to the end of the hall, passed where Joffrey and Tommen slept, and rapped on the Hound's door. After a moment, it cracked open just the slightest bit. When he saw it was you, the Hound quickly pulled you in before anyone could see.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He growled, shutting the door as quietly as he could. He had been in bed and wore only his pants, his hairy chest bare.

"I didn't get caught, it's alright," you insisted. You were hoping he would be happier to see you. On the road, you were constantly surrounded by guards or your family. Besides a few squeezes of your hand in passing, you hadn't felt his touch since you left the capitol. Your mother had kept her promise and hadn't said anything after she had caught you with him in the library, but she kept a closer eye on you now. "I missed you," you said softly.

His mouth was a hard line as he looked at you. Finally, he placed his hands on your hips, drawing you close to him. You pressed your face into his chest, almost crying at having him close again after all this time.

"It was stupid," he said as he held you. You laughed.

"Don't worry, I know you missed me too," you said. He sat down on the wooden chair that stood by his window, pulling you by the hand until you sat on his lap. The cloak fell to the floor but you were warm enough when he wrapped his arms around you, his rough hands sliding over the silk of your nightdress.

Finally, you were able to press your lips to his. You kissed him gently first, as a lady should, but then you needed to show him just how much you missed him. Heat pooled between your thighs as you threaded your fingers through his hair, kissing him hungrily. He growled low in his throat as he kissed you back. His hand went under the hem of your nightdress, up your thigh, and you gasped softly as his finger entered you. You hadn't even had enough space in the last month to touch yourself and his touch felt like magic as he stroked you from the inside.

He kissed your cheek, your jaw, then your neck, sending a chill down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. "How does that feel, Princess?" He asked against the shell of your ear.

"So good," You muttered back, eyes closed.

You felt him start to remove his hand and squeezed your thighs tight in an attempt to keep him going. He laughed slightly as he brought his hand to his face. He licked you off of his fingers, groaning softly and sending another surge of heat through your body.

He kissed you roughly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "You taste so fucking good," He said against your mouth. He gathered you up in his arms with ease, moving to take you to the bed.

Someone pounded on the door with a heavy hand. In an instant, you were on the bed, the Hound quickly covering you with the thick blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to the Hound open the door once again. It nearly froze when you heard your father's voice in the hall.

"Didn't wake you, did I, Clegane?" He laughed. He was drunk, it was clear from his slurred words. The welcome feast ended hours ago. He must have stayed up drinking with his old friends.

"Wasn't sleeping, Your Grace," The Hound spoke to your father with your taste still on his lips. "What can I do for you?"

"Put some clothes on, Hound, we're going on a hunt," The King said. You could hear him clap the Hound on the shoulder roughly.

"It's well past midnight, Your Grace," The Hound informed him.

"What are you, my wife?" Your father said. "I am your king!"

"Why don't you retire to your chambers, I'll get you more wine," The Hound suggested. He knew your father well. He wouldn't say no to more alcohol.

"Wine and a girl," The King laughed. Your lip curled in disgust, but if it got him away from the Hound's room without him seeing you in the bed, you didn't care what your father did.

"Wine and a girl," the Hound confirmed.

"Get one for yourself while you're at it." You heard your father stumble away. For a brief moment you wondered if you should worry about him, but there were dozens of other guards along the way who would help him back up to his room. He would most likely be asleep before the Hound could find him again.

You felt the blanket fly off of you as soon as the door was closed. "Go back to your room," The Hound instructed. "Now."

You stood up, not even coming to his shoulder. You reached up, touching the burnt side of his face, letting your fingers memorize the scar. His eyes closed just briefly. He put his hand over yours. You stood on your toes, kissing him gently before sneaking out again.

You never really drank. But after the news you had gotten, you decided now was as good a time as any. Your body wasn't quite used to it, only having previously had a few sips here and there. As the residents of Winterfell were once again crammed into the dining hall, you nursed your third glass, feeling the warmth spread in your chest. Everyone was pleasantly drunk around you, save for the severe Ned Stark and his lady wife, so you didn't feel left out despite sitting off on your own at a table near the exit.

You stared at the table where your newly announced betrothed sat. Robb Stark was handsome, strong, and kind. He had lands and a title. You would be the Lady of Winterfell. You had known this was coming, but it didn't mean you had to like it. Your mother didn't even try to hide the smug look on her face when your father broke the news to you earlier. You suspected it was directed at your guard who had been in the room as well, something you were sure she had planned. Your mother would get what she wanted after all.

"Princess," You heard from behind you. Your heart lifted instantly.

"Sit," You insisted, patting the seat next to you. The Hound's eyes scanned the room and you rolled yours. "It's not unheard of. You're supposed to be guarding me, you can guard me from down here."

"You're drunk," He noted as he sat next to you. You felt the bench creek under his large body. You wished that you were alone so he could pull you into his lap. You were so tired of not even being able to hold his hand.

"I might be," you said.

"You are." He grabbed a pint for himself, taking it halfway down with one solid gulp. "Celebrating your engagement, Princess?"

"Stop it," you said with a tight jaw. "You know I'd rather-,"

"Be quiet about that," The Hound said, his eyes darting around the room once again. A few eyes were on you, but they were passing glances, folks wondering why the Princess was off alone, but you knew they were not going to question your choice of company.

"I'm sorry," you said. "But you can't be upset with me, I can't take that along with everything else. It's not my fault."

The Hound made a noise half way between a grunt and a sigh, but still didn't look at you. "I know," he said.

Your hand found his knee comfortingly under the table. It was probably the wine in your stomach that made you unafraid of any consequences. You were surprised he didn't pull away, but he let you leave your hand there. You were feeling sad and stupid. You moved your hand up further, touching the inside of his thigh. The growl from his throat didn't stop you. So long without touching him for fear of being caught and here you were now with your hand in his lap when the dining hall was full of eyes.

"Princess," he said through clenched teeth. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He was trying not to draw attention. Just drunk enough not to care, you moved your hand even further. His breath came out as a hiss as you palmed the growing bulge in his pants. His massive hand clamped around your wrist.

"No one is even looking," you said, not really caring if they were.

"Are you trying to lose me my head?" He asked. You noticed that he hadn't moved your hand away from him. You squeezed him, making him groan. "Fucking hells," he muttered, placing both hands on the table. He wasn't going to stop you.

You made sure you weren't looking directly at him as you stroked your hand up and down his length through his pants. You watched his hand on the table clench into a fist as he tried to keep a straight face. "It's a lovely feast, isn't it?" You asked, a wicked smirk playing at your lips. He merely grunted. The wine and the thrill of touching him once again made you forget for a moment the pressure you had felt since the news of your engagement.

"But I do think I have had a bit too much to drink," You said, loudly enough for anyone at the tables near you to hear. Luckily, they were drunker than you. "Walk me back to my room, please."

The Hound rose first, helping you balance yourself. You really did have a bit too much to drink. He let you go as soon as he thought you would be able to stand. You looked over your shoulder for just a moment, catching a glance at your mother. She sipped her wine next to your father, who was probably the drunkest one in the room. No one would say anything to the King about his drinking. Your mother caught your look but said nothing. She knew who your father would believe if you went to him with what you knew.

The Hound walked a few steps behind you as you walked out of the hall. The voices from the dining hall carried out into the corridor. As soon as you turned the corner, far enough away from the crowd, his hands were on you. You giggled drunkenly as he scooped you up.

"You're going to get me in trouble, Princess," he said into your neck, placing a sloppy kiss on the column of your throat. He shouldered the nearest door open. You should have been more worried about getting caught but the only thoughts swimming through the alcohol in your brain were about the Hound's mouth.

The room was empty and almost pitch black, the only light coming from the full moon outside. The Hound sat you down on the plush loveseat pushed against the wall. You grabbed his belt, attempting to pull him towards you and finish what you had started in the dining hall but it appeared he had other plans. He pushed your hand away.

"Your turn, Princess."

He lowered himself to his knees in front of you, giving you a breathless kiss, his massive hand cupping your cheek. Leaving your head spinning, he pulled away. He shoved your skirt up, gathering it at your thighs. He pulled you down to the edge of the seat, spreading your legs before him. He placed your legs over his broad shoulders, the metal of his armor cool on your flushed skin. From the wine or from him, you couldn't be entirely sure.

He bit the inside of your thigh, placing a kiss over it just as quickly. You were just about to tell him not to tease you when you felt his tongue at your apex. Your hands went to his hair, your head going back against the love seat. It had been so long since he could have you like this, he lapped at your pussy hungrily, his fingers digging into your thighs in a way you knew would leave a bruise. That made it even sweeter.

"Sandor, please," You begged, tugging at his hair, trying to pull him up to kiss you again. You weren't sure how much time you had with him and you wanted to feel all of him before you had to part. Normally, he would tell you he was going to take his bloody time, but he was probably thinking the same as you.

The Hound wrapped his arm around your waist, moving you to lay with your head on the armrest of the loveseat, his body looming over you. He was always afraid to put his whole weight on you, but you liked feeling his presence. You helped him pull himself out of his pants and with one quick thrust, he was fully seated inside of you. He paused for a moment, his face in the crook of your neck. You guided his face back to yours, kissing him. You wrapped your legs around him, making sure he was as close as he could be to you. He rutted into you, each thrust punctuated with a grunt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your collarbone, your mouth, any bit of you he could. His thumb found its way to your clit, finishing what his tongue had started. Your legs squeezed him tighter. You tried to stay quiet, but his free hand still went over your mouth, muffling the cry as you came, your legs tight around him.

He took his hand from your mouth, placing it on the loveseat next to you to brace himself. His other hand moved to the small of your back, pushing you closer to him as he fucked you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in to whisper in his ear, "Cum in me."

The hand on your back moved to your outer thigh, squeezing tight as he shuddered, finishing into you with a final grunt. He hid his face in your neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"Stupid, that was stupid," The Hound muttered into your skin.

You pulled his face towards you, making sure his eyes met yours. "I love you," you said firmly. His eyes darted away again. You had said it only once before to him. He never said it back, it wasn't his way.

Instead, he kissed you and responded, "Aye."