Her Tully blue eyes traveled to the mirror. She saw the faint brown tissue around her right temple from the time Ser Meryn hit her at Joffrey's command. Her fingers flew to the spot. Joffrey ordered multiple blows to the head, but Sandor Clegane walked into the room to announce the king was needed by the Queen Regent. Ser Meryn had followed the king out while Sandor stayed to give her a cool cloth. "Thank you." She whispered and glanced up at the burnt man as she trembled and held the cloth to her pounding head. He left without a sign of hearing her soft words. Jon Snow had caused that beating like so many others that had occurred. Jon Snow, her bastard brother, was actually Jon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen, and therefore the true heir to the Iron throne. Joffrey was only a pretender, the usurper's son. Jon made no intention to take the Iron throne and stayed at the Wall with Sansa's father. Cersei forced Joffrey to send Ned to the Wall as promised. 'Thank the gods for this king lion' she had once thought about her golden prince before he began to beat her.
The first time was directly after her father had been sent to the Wall. They, including Ser Boros and Ser Arys, were walking down the courtyard as Joffrey blamed her for allowing Ned to take the black cloak.
"If it had not been for your pitiful pleas, my mother would not have insisted on sending him to the Wall. Now I look a fool in front of the kingdom. Listening to the pathetic pleas of women." The king spat.
"But it will show mercy. Surely the people will understand." Sansa reasoned, attempting to calm the boy king. His green eyes threw her a glare.
"You stupid girl, people will take it as me being a weakling. I cannot have that with the other rumors circulating about my parentage." He snarled. Sansa looked down ashamed of her words. Yes, Joffrey knew better than her. She was but a girl taught in the ways of thread and needle, not pen and sword. She said nothing else as Joffrey took a swift left away from a crowd of nobles. The teenager was leading her into an isolated part of the Red Keep. Suddenly the group stopped and Joffrey stood before her, his green eyes burning.
"My lady mother says to never hit your wife or betrothed. Ser Boros, come here." She remembered herself trembling as Ser Boros approached her. This was her golden lion's knight meant to protect and serve her betrothed. He would never harm her.
"Force her to the ground. Kick her shins." King Joffrey commanded. Her eyes widened and flinched as the knight knocked her feet out from under her by kicking her shins. Agony erupted from her knees as she hit the pavement and trailed down to her calves and shins. Her hands reached the floor to keep her from falling any further. She looked up at Joffrey and saw the pure pleasure on his wormy lipped face.
"Again." Her king spat and another sharp pain hit the back of her legs as the knight rammed his steel toe into her calf repeatedly. She whimpered which earned a wider grin from her once-beloved prince. She wanted to ask why, but she could not find her voice.
"Stop. Now, Ser Arys, punch her ribs." Joffrey purred and the elder knight stepped back for Ser Arys to come forward. Ser Arys looked awkward as he reached her. "But-" The brown haired man began to protest as he looked from the king to Sansa.
"Do as the king commands." Ser Boros stated. Sansa watched with soft hopeful hues as the knight hesitated only a second before forming a fist and hitting her ribs. The sensation coursed from the impact point to the rest of her rib cage. She reached her right hand over to touch her ribs, but the knight moved them aside. Sansa tensed as Arys punched her again and again. The metal ribbing of her corset caused her breathing to become labored as he continued.
Blue eyes stared at the ground. Why was he doing this? She was supposed to be his lady love. The next forceful punch drove her into the ground so her forearms touched the cool stone. She tried to block out the pain, but every hit was on a different area of her ribs. Her breathing became ragged. Suddenly there was a pause in her punishment.
"The council wishes to see you." She heard a rasp. Her blue hues looked up and noticed a burly man only six feet away from her and he made no comment on her being on the floor. "What do they want?" Joffrey asked bitterly.
"The seven hells if I know." The rasp continued. The golden haired boy-king looked at Sansa. "I will see you later. Knights, follow me." He addressed the kingsguard and turned swiftly away and out of the isolated area with Ser Arys and Ser Boros behind him. Only then did the raspy voice speak to her.
"Get up, Little Bird." Sansa rested her palms on the stone floor as she trembled from the pain streaming down her shins, calves, and ribs. I can get up. She pulled her feet to meet the floor's surface. An electric shock shot through her calves as the beaten muscles contracted, she moaned and bit her lip. Instead of rising to the ground, she dropped with her back on the floor and bent her legs. I cannot stand up. My prince-h-he ordered them to hit me. I hate him.
An arm wrapped under her right arm and over her back as another arm went under her bent knees. She did not attempt to struggle against him. His arms held her to his armored breastplate; she could feel the steel on her cheek. He moved in deliberate, long measured strides before he paused to open a door. Sansa opened her eyes briefly and saw the wooden frame of her bed before tensing at the sensation running across her ribs. He leaned down and placed her genteelly on the mattress. "Thank you." She said staring at his face for a split second before shutting them and falling into a deep slumber.
She shrugged out of her heavy gown to look at the rest of her body. Her collarbone was marked by yellow spots from where Ser Boros gripped her shoulder and tugged her to the floor and stripped her before her betrothed. His dagger slashed through her bodice's laces. She tried to keep the frame around her front, but Ser Boros pushed her arms away and the bodice dropped which revealed her developing breasts to the court. Why had he done this? Daenerys Targaryen had returned to Westeros riding her black dragon while the white and green ones flew at her side. Upon realizing Jon Targaryen existed the exiled queen went to test the proclaimed Targaryen at the Wall. Jon and the green dragon connected which proved he was a Targaryen. Joffrey would bare her body to the world as Jon bared of his ancestry.
The Hound rasped, "Enough." But the king gave the sworn sword a pointed look before commanding Ser Boros to grab her hair and push her face into the ground. "You look a whore." She heard the king of Westeros laugh before the kingsguard knight ripped a large amount of her auburn hair out. She pressed her head against the ground for minutes. She shut her eyes, not allowing the hot tears to fall, blocking out the laughter and sharp mocking from the courtiers and guards. They could laugh, but she would be their queen one day, Queen Sansa of House Baratheon. She would make them rue the day they shamed her.
Their eyes trailed over her body until she heard the steps of Joffrey leaving court and the rest of his courtiers filed out. He had been her golden lion, her lion, but he proved to be a rotten stag like the one Robb saw on the path when they found Lady. Silence followed.
Lady... Sansa opened her teary eyes and saw a shadow falling over her body. She twisted her head to the left and looked up at the shadow figure. Before her stood Sandor holding his white cloak out to her. A tear rolled down to the ground. Kindness in the least expected places. Her father had said that to her before he went to the Wall.
"Here, Little Bird." He said. She reached out her tiny hand and touched his gloved hand.
"Thank you." She whispered as she lingered her hand on his and took the cloak and wrapped it around herself. She tucked her left foot under her and on shaky legs, she lifted herself to the ground. Her body stumbled and she felt a mailed arm under her. She rose her head and stared into the face of Sandor Clegane. His features were cruel from the pocked mark scar with fissures and red angry tissue, but his grey eyes were fuming.
Not at her, but towards the boy called king as he glared after the chamber doors. She shivered slightly seeing so much rage, which caused Sandor to look down at her. He held her gaze, willing her to look away as she did before her father was sent to the Wall. When her father left, so did her naive notions about childhood knights and stories. Joffrey had made Ser Arys punch her ribs and Ser Boros kicked her shins when her father left. He wanted to kill Ned Stark and when he was not allowed to he took it out on Sansa.
"Don't let him clip your wings, Little Bird." He rasped and Sansa nodded. She would stay strong like her lady mother and her wolf.
Green spots dappled her stomach from where Preston Greenfield punched her stomach after Jon Targaryen married Daenerys Targaryen and they decided to take the Iron Throne back. Then the North proclaimed the couple as their King and Queen in all respects and Robb Stark rallied the Northern banners for the Targaryens. For this opposition, he took her to his private chambers since he decided to take her maidenhood and consummate their betrothal like Jon and Daenerys were like to do.
She had only had been first moonblood four months before. Sansa and Joffrey's marriage was delayed due to the disasters within the state and there was no need to make a fuss of wedding and a huge, lavish feast while people starved.
Ser Preston Greenfield punched her stomach before Joffrey asked him to slice her clothes off. When Joffrey disrobed Sansa, Cersei came in. Sansa stood in front of her king naked as her name day. Her clothes had been ripped with a dagger and flooded at her feet. They were ruined. The red and gold cloth torn to nothing, but shreds.
Instead of wilting under the eyes of her King, she stood without trembling before him. He had shamed her in front of his whole court; he could not shame her in private quarters. He would not clip her wings.
The Queen Regent berated her son and forced him from his chambers along with Preston Greenfield who would have watched Joffrey take her. The Lady Stark sat on the bed, pulled the blankets around her torso, and waited, but when the door reopened Sandor appeared with his head lowered.
He threw her a loose yellow and black gown, "Get dressed." He said quickly and looked away. Sansa held the gown and stared at the armored man. He would not look at her, not when Joffrey had stripped her from her clothes. He would remark upon her teats when she was adorned in the Lannister riches, but in reality, he would not look at the way Joffrey tormented her. She slipped the gown over her head and walked to Sandor's left side and looked up at him. He was not hard to look at anymore, not when she had to stare at Joffrey's wormy lips and malicious green hues wandering her womanly body.
"Thank you." She said and touched his arm as a gesture of good faith and trust in the kingsguard sword.
"There is no need for your chirps. Leave them for Joffrey." He snapped as his grey hues reached her timid blue eyes. Sansa bit her lip.
"A dragon will burn a lion, but a bird will fly with a dragon if her wings are not clipped." He said in an almost tender voice.
"The lion has not chewed them off yet," She replied with a nod. "He never will." She insisted which caused the Hound to smirk at her bold words.
"Don't let a dog chew them either. He's not worth it." He warned her and forced his arm away from her hand. "A bird can turn into a wolf," She said smiling briefly. "A wolf can run with a dog." She remarked now stood directly in front of the scarred man. His eyes traveled her face before he barked with laughter.
"Can she?" He mocked her.
"Yes," Sansa smirked this time at the surprised look on his face. She bought his hand to her lips and let her lips peck them. These hands would never harm her. They were calloused from sword work and working the training yard. They had also killed people, but they would never hurt her. As she lowered his hand, she tilted her face up to see his grey eyes filled with some emotion from her simple gesture. She smiled up at him before his mouth twitched.
"Come on then, She-Wolf, the Lady Lion awaits for you." He said and pushed her gently around and out the door.
Newer marks appeared on the back of her thighs where Ser Mandon and Ser Arys hit her with the back of their swords. They were a purple-blue shade. Jon had taken Lannisport on the back of his green dragon, Rhaegal and Daenerys took Casterly Rock on Drogon. The Riverlands and the Vale proclaimed the dragon blooded pair their rulers, but the Tyrells, Martells, Lannisters, and Baratheons resisted. With the Lannister's lands along with their treasures and gold lost it was only a matter of time before the Targaryens marched on the capital. Without the gold, the Lannisters could not pay their debts and keep the City guard in the city. They could kill her, but if they did that then they would lose the claim to the North and the Targaryen would gain morale to murder the Lion-Stag king and risk killing Ser Jaime Lannister.
Joffrey, the pretender, said she deserved the swords beatings just as the Targaryens rammed the gates of Casterly Rock down. She could still hear the roar of laughter from the court as she fell to the ground. She fell into a puddle of blood caused by when Joffrey shot down three servants in his rage. Blood trickled down her turquoise satin gown as she tried to rise to her feet, but Ser Arys slapped her back down at Joffrey's order. That time she stayed down and fisted her hands in anger. Her skin shifted from ivory to steel that day with each hit against her thighs and the stinging sensation that followed.
The dragons would burn the lions for this treatment and she wolf would rip off the crowned lion's head off. She grimaced as she heard the slash through the air and the blunt side of the steel hit her again. Be strong.
"Leave her," Joffrey called to his knights and turned to the Hound who was twitching his lip.
"Hound," Joffrey demanded. "Get her to her feet and take her out of my sight." The Hound grunted and stepped away from the Iron throne as Joffrey hissed in anger as the swords lapped at his ivory skin. The man towered over her and pulled her to her feet in a rough looking manner, but she could feel his firm grip under her arm. He not ungently pushed her through the crowd and left the solid doors behind them with a slam. She could hear the ladies of court whisper as they appeared in the entrance hall, but Sansa turned left down a darkened hallway where her chambers laid.
With every step, she felt the agony running up and down her tender legs. She staggered to her left and felt Sandor's arm grab her around the waist. He lifted her inches off the ground as she clung to his arm for balance. She stiffened before realizing he would not harm her. Dogs and wolves were one and the same and would not hurt each other. She could feel his hot breath running down the back of her neck and his armored chest against her back. It was cool against her back, her steel. He took a deep inhale as he smelled her auburn hair.
She shivered which caused him to straighten and he placed her lightly on the ground. Sansa found her feet and began walking again, trying to keep pace with Sandor's long strides. She had been four and ten for the last two months and in that time she has found herself to be taller than all of the women at court and even Ser Boros. Oft times she would see Cersei glaring at her in envy and the men, Littlefinger especially, lingering in her presence. She knew she was lovely, but pretty smiles and beauty meant little to her now. Not when the only man who showed her any kindness and true knighthood was burned.
"Thank you." She whispered when she noticed no one around them. "For what?" The Hound growled as he charged past the servants' quarters. A maid peered out her door before quietly shutting the door. Sansa matched the man's steps with her long legs ignoring the stinging sensations. She was not quite sure what to say. For rescuing her? No, he would laugh at that and call her a silly little bird. For showing her kindness? He would mock her naive nature as usual.
"For speaking with me instead of at me." She finally said. She could speak truly with the Hound for he was her Hound. He told her a dog would die for her but never lie and he lied to Joffrey to protect her from a beating when she saved Ser Dontos' life. He looked back at her and chuckled.
"Still a little bird, aren't you? Singing your courtesies and high praises. I thought you were a wolf." He mocked her and stared back into the shadows. Cersei had placed her in the lowest and most deserted quarters in the Red Keep. No one would hear them speak these treasons.
"A wolf covered in feathers, only a mask. Someday the wolf will bare its fangs and when she does will a dog be at her side?" She asked in a low voice hoping he would turn back and look at her. Instead of simply looking back at her, he grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him in the middle of a shadowed hallway. He placed his hand under her chin.
"Do not speak of such things." The Hound growled. She did not step or tremble away.
"No one will hear us. Cersei put me in these rooms to isolate me from everyone. She wants me to feel alone and helpless." Sansa reasoned.
"Do not be a fool. The spider has his birds and Cersei has her spies." He hissed lowly and pushed her against the wall. This time her weakened legs fell from under her, but the Hound wrapped his gentle arm around her around before she collapsed. If anyone saw them like this they would take it as Sandor harming her. Good. Joffrey would approve of the Hound finally throwing the king's betrothed around.
"A hound will wait." He rasped.
"As will the wolf." He stated lowly before releasing his hold. Again she found her feet and marched back to her room in silence. She opened her door and entered the room as she heard his footsteps slip back into the shadows. Yes, she would wait to strike like her Hound.
Sansa looked into the mirror. An auburn haired lady looked back with wistful blue eyes looking back. She remembered a young girl with perfect ivory skin, but now she was marked by hideous scars. Joffrey ordered them for her fifteenth birthday. For every year she lived foolishly, she would get a cut on her face. That way the kingdom could see how she had been a fool for the first twelve years of her life before coming to his court. The king had done this punishment in private and would later spread the idea behind it. Ser Meryn brandished each one.
Four on each cheek, two on her chin, and one each running from her forehead to her cheekbone so the knife would drag along her eyelids. She had not shed a tear that day because she knew it would hurt more to cry with her torn eyelids. The maester had to sew her eyelids back together.
"Thank you." She whispered when the maester finished. She could barely see the man or the room, but she heard the heavy steps as someone entered, most likely to take her back to her room. Sansa turned towards the steps and stood up from the stool.
"Ser," Her lady mother would have been proud of her actions even when she could not see.
"I am no ser, you know that." He snarled and she smiled slightly hearing the familiar tone. "Come on." He rasped and wrapped his hand around her forearm. Sandor pulled her out of the room, took a few turns before he took her to a deserted area. He dropped her arm and pushed a bottle into her hands.
"Drink." He ordered. Sansa hesitated feeling the weight of the skin in her hands. It was full. "It's wine to numb the pain. Now drink, Little Bird." He commented briskly. She lifted the skin to her lips and sipped the wine, Dornish red, his favorite.
"Thank you for the wine." She stated and offered the flask back to him. Sandor snorted at her chirp and flicked her hand away.
"Bugger that. You need it for what the damn king did to you. Cutting your pretty face up." He growled, shoving the wine towards her. She could sense him shaking with unspoken rage. Sansa swallowed the wine this time before setting it down. She took a step towards the kingsguard, so she could feel his body heat.
"It will not matter. A wolf can have scars. It proves she is as brave as her Hound." She tried smiling at the tall man. The Hound scuffed at her words.
"Or how her betrothed battered a little bird and she stood singing her pretty songs for him." He commented. He placed his hand under her chin and forced her to look up at him. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face as he stared at the flesh wounds Joffrey ordered.
"They will heal." She whispered and grasped the hand under her chin. He tried to recoil, but she held him there.
"They will heal and scars will be left." She reaffirmed. She wished to see his facial expressions, but it was impossible. The salve the master applied to her eyes kept the stitches from itching though.
"There should not be any scars on your face." He replied as he shifted his weight from one foot to another.
"They are only marks like the one you have. It is not a determinant of my being. My beauty is not measured by face or body. " She explained and reached his scarred face. His body stiffened as her fingers traced the fissures on his face. Before she registered what was happening, the Hound leaned down to kiss her forehead. He took the flask in the same motion. "Come on." He rasped as he pulled her towards him, guiding her through the hall back to her room.
A roar erupted from her window. There were rumors about the dragons flying towards the capital, but Cersei just laughed them off in a drunken stupor. Sansa twisted her head to the window the saw a huge monster opening its' mouth and liquid fire pouring out. She walked slowly over to the opening to take a closer look. It had bronze and green scales covering its' body. The head was the size of a small boat and it had a long serpentine neck that flicked wildly. Jon is here. He will take the city and I shall be free. Sansa thought and flicked her eyes toward her door. They would come for her once they saw Jon and threaten her life to make Jon and Daenerys stop their takeover.
Sansa ran to her oak chest and pulled out a lackluster yellow and black dress. Without a moment's loss, she struggled into the loose gown and clasped a dark coarse cloak around her shoulders. The cloak would hide her noticeable auburn locks. Her hands grasped the letter opener. It proved a dull blade, but it had a point. Arya would approve of it. Briefly, she smiled thinking of her lost sister before tucking the knife in her cloak. It would serve its purpose. She opened her door and walked down the corridor. The servants were scurrying out of their apartments and she could follow them out of the Red Keep. She filed into line with the panicked maids and kitchen wenches as the dragons hissed their battle cry. It was a horrible sound like the sound of the Seven Hells.
Then someone pushed into her and forced her hood to fall and reveal her auburn tresses, therefore her identity, to one of the most loyal maids of Cersei.
"M'lady, the Queen has been looking for you. Come with me." The maid ordered and grabbed her arm. The other wenches kept moving, paying no attention to the scene that was unfolding in their mists.
"Take your hands off me," Sansa growled as the older woman began to push her way through the packed hall.
"I am to take you to Queen Cersei." The maid repeated, gripping her more firmly now. The bird flittered against the burly woman as the she-wolf seized her knife and just about stabbed the woman before she saw the Hound's immense shadow.
"I will take her, wench." He announced and pulled Sansa's body towards him.
"Cersei's dog has come to fetch the prey." The woman smiled impishly and gave up her hold on Sansa. A screech erupted from the outside. The dragons were drawing closer and the lion would be scrambling with burnt paws. A wolf could rip a lion's throat out now. The loyal lion maid's green eyes wavered before she whisked herself away. Everyone was out to save themselves. Sandor gripped her arm and dragged her through the thick of running women and servants. Would her Hound strike now? The wolf grinned and the bird tensed. Would he betray her and take her to the Mother Lion or the Lion King? No, dogs and wolves ran the same path, narrow and twisted.
"Where are we going?" She said as Sandor shoved her into one of the servant's rooms. There were multiple beds placed in the room with a table in the center. The kingsguard shut the door behind them.
"The green one was spotted at the Dragon Gate and the black one at the Lion Gate. The dragons will take the city with fire and then the throne with blood." Sandor told her, barely needing to look down at the sixteen year old lady. She came just at his shoulders now. Sansa nodded in understanding. He still held her arm, but it seemed gentle. Their bodies were only inches from each other.
"As soon as the fucking king saw the buggering white one he ordered me to bring you to the throne room. You are to act as a hostage and bargaining chip for their lives when the dragons come." He continued.
Another roar resonated across the city. Sandor looked over his shoulder as if the dragon were right there about to breathe fire on him. The whites of his eyes showed and his grip around her arm tightened briefly. This must cause him grief. Fire reminds him of his burns. Her blue eyes traveled over the burnt part of his face and for some unknown reason, she reached her hand up to touch them.
"But we are going somewhere else, right?" She whispered as her thumb grazed his scared cheekbone. His sullen grey eyes watched her hand touched his marred face before looking into her eyes.
"No. The throne room will be the safest place. The whole city will be in flames before we are able to get anywhere. Jon and Daenerys will go there when they win the city and they will expect the Lannisters to be there ready to surrender. Jon will recognize you and you be safe Little Bird." His words shocked her. Surely, the Lannisters would have her at knifepoint and take her life before Jon could secure her.
"The Lannisters are going to lose regardless of whether or not they hold me as a hostage. Lions cannot defeat dragons- Real dragons. They will kill me as their last act of resistance and spite Jon." The red haired woman reasoned.
"That will not happen. They will force the dog to kill the wolf. Lions would never touch a dirty, pitiful wolf pup they think you are." Sandor replied, he glanced at her hand resting on his shoulder. Now her hand dropped to her side. Sansa nodded.
"I understand. Shall we go now?" She asked dropping her gaze. How could she trust him? Joffrey never ordered Sandor to beat, maim, or bruise her, so why would he now? Instead of answering the young lady, the kingsguard placed his huge hand under her chin and lifted her head up to meet his eyes.
"Look at me." He stated with the usual rasp to his voice. Her Tully blue eyes met his grey eyes. They were so different from the angry, half mad stormy hues they had been. Today they were calm and sincere as the river waters can be with a pair of dragons ravaging the capital.
"Do you remember what I told you?" He asked. He had told her so many things over the years. Since she was eleven years old and newly arrived at court. He told her of his scar, his ancestors, his theories on the world, and his comforts after the knights beat her. How could she pinpoint one phrase?
"A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he'll look you straight in the face.'" He quoted himself, not waiting for another second.
A screech rolled through the Red Keep. Sandor's hand moved from her chin to the back of her neck and pushed her against him as an instinct. Sansa should have squealed in panic, but instead, she rested her head against his plate-armored chest while closing her eyes. She could hear the rapid rhythm of his heart. It's the dragons and their fire. Slowly and hesitantly she lifted her free hand and wrapped it around his neck.
"You never lied to me. You never hurt me. You were there to clean up the broken, bloody mess I was when Joffrey beat me." She whispered.
"Will you be willing to strike with me, a she-wolf ready to shed her feathers?" She asked peering up at Sandor. Grey eyes traveled over each of her facial scars before he answered her.
"I am the she-wolf's Hound." He leaned down. The she-wolf smiled as she tilted her head and pressed her lips to his mouth. At first, it was just a quick peck, like a sweet bird, but then the wolf bit the dog's bottom lip and chewed, marking him.
Just as the kiss started, it ended without a word. Sandor blinked, clearly confused.
"Let's go, Hound." Sansa growled mockingly, yet knowing she had no way of marching off without him. His hand still held her against him.
"Alright, She-wolf. Act like the little bird when we get there." He said and they left the servant's room and headed for the throne room.
The entire castle seemed deserted as they traveled through the corridors and stairwells. It was rather ghostly, but every few minutes Sansa would hear scampering and see a servant holding gold goblets and silverware. Then the dragons could be heard. Every time they screeched Sandor would squeeze Sansa's arm and she would squeeze back in reassurance.
The doors to the Great Hall were wide open. No one stood guard at the doors. The guards must have known this invasion would end with dragons on the iron throne. That would also explain the clinking of silver and gold artifacts as Sansa had walked around the castle. Sandor tightened his hold on her arm as he walked into the Great Hall. Joffrey was sitting on the throne, simply waiting for the end to come. Cersei was at his side looking worried until she noticed Sandor pushing Sansa forward. Then her lips pulled back into a cat's pleased grin.
"Sansa, my dear, I expected you to be burned to a crispy morsel for those dragons as of now, but I suppose the dog found you." Cersei purred.
"You will sit next to me until your cousin arrives." She half ordered. A servant looking nervously around placed a stool next to the golden haired queen. Joffrey sat in the Iron Throne, glaring at Sansa as the Hound brought her towards the altar.
"No, she will sit at my feet until that dragon arrives. Bring her here, Hound." The lion king moved his pointer finger in a beckoning motion. The bird played her part, resisting the Hound slightly as she felt him tug at her arm. He pushed her to the marble step underneath Joffrey and stepped to the right of the Iron Throne.
"Get up, Sansa." The king demanded as he stood up. The fire haired lady turned her head to look at him. He would be dead by the end of the day. She would oblige by his wishes for the next few hours because she had once fooled herself into loving him. I could have loved you and been good to you if you had done the same for me. She lifted herself to her feet. The wormy lipped man stood up and walked to stand directly in front of her as another dragon screamed louder. They were coming closer.
"They are coming for the throne." He hissed to her. "Those screams are screams for Lannister blood and yours included. Dragons will burn everything in their path and you will be at the forefront." He spat, venom dripping. Her blue eyes widened as he grabbed the back of her head and shoved her to the ground.
"You are scum, Sansa. You will be burned with the rest of us. Wildlings say you were kissed by fire because of your hair. I suppose now that will come true." Joffrey tittered at his own joke as he leaned down over her. He pushed her face into the floor. She felt the dust and dirt rub against her face and grind into her cheek. She squirmed as he tugged at her hair, forcing her head up and smashed her head against the floor. Pain erupted from her temple as he hit it twice more.
"Stop it, Joffrey." Cersei screamed at her son. The king looked back at her.
"She is mine to play with." He held Sansa's head in the air by her auburn locks, straining her neck. It hurts. Only a while more before Jon comes or Joffrey will kill me. She felt the trickle of blood flow down her temple as she waited for his next punishment.
"She is a hostage, my son, not a toy." The lion lady spoke reasonably. She rose from her chair and walked towards the blonde man and red haired lady. Her footsteps were not light or ladylike as they were when the little bird first arrived at court.
"It will do you no good when the bastard and his bitch come here. She is our only bargaining chip." Cersei whispered urgently to her king.
"We are going to burn regardless of what we do to her now. I know you always hated her. She was prettier than you even with her scars. All the noblemen desire her, but she is mine to fuck with as I please. She never had your wit or ambition, but she did not need it with her looks. Hit her for me." Joffrey hissed, now holding Sansa's head so Cersei was forced to look at her.
Tully blue eyes focused on the Lannister woman. The queen regent had gained some weight, her hair was graying, and her breasts had lost their bountiful nature. She was turning into the hag she dreaded to become. Fearful green eyes stared at the bloody little bird before they shifted to her son, turning fierce. She raised her hand and slapped her golden corrupt child across the face.
"We will burn for what you did, Joffrey." Cersei spat. "Every last Lannister will be set ablaze because of your actions. The actions you took as king, in the name of the crown, to protect the citizens of the realm. You sentenced us to death the moment you starved your people in the middle of summer when there was still enough food for everyone. You were my golden boy, my sweet fair-haired boy." Cersei screamed. Joffrey let go of Sansa and stared at his mother in disbelief before drawing a dagger from his belt.
"You should not speak to your king that way. Mother, I know you like the color red. Let me show you it." He plunged the knife into Cersei's stomach. Lannister red poured out of the elderly woman and spilled onto her yellow gown.
"My boy…" Cersei whispered and her knees hit the ground before she doubled over on the marble tile. She was a mere two feet away from Sansa.
Before Sansa could react to the murder between child and mother, she heard the shrill scream from a dragon and the rumbling sound of stone being crashed. A long, green, and scaly neck appeared from the right side of the throne room. It screamed again before it entered. On its' back was a pale man with black hair and facial hair. Jon. His grey eyes turned to look at the scene before they settled on his cousin.
"Sansa!" Jon called out to her. Dazed, Sansa tried to get to her feet, but something held her back. She felt a weight on the back of her dress.
"She is mine, Bastard," Joffrey affirmed as he dragged Sansa up on her feet. He held her against his body. She could feel his body shaking from the adrenal pumping through his veins.
"She is my betrothed. Now onto important matters." The coolness of Baratheon's knife pressed to her neck as he spoke.
"Joffrey-" Jon began as he slid from his dragon's back. The green dragon peered around the room and stared hungrily at the dead body lying between Jon and Joffrey. His tongue flicked.
"King Joffrey." The present Iron Throne king roared. Jon glared at the younger boy.
"You are king no longer. The Iron Throne is mine by birthright as the true heir of the Targaryens along with my wife. Rhaegal will kill you if you do not surrender the throne." The black armored man explained. To empathize with what he had said, the emerald creature blew smoke through his nostrils.
"I can even strike you a deal. I will allow you to live freely. You will be granted Casterly Rock since it was the seat to your ancestors for the past thousands of years under the supervision of some of my men. After a time you will be allowed the freedom to rule as any other lord." The newfound Targaryen reasoned. The blade pressed closer to her neck and she felt the prick puncture her skin.
"The throne is mine." The Lannister king stated his breath grazing itself hot against her ear. Where is Sandor? Her eyes glanced around the throne room looking for the towering figure, but the appearance of another dragon distracted her. This reptile-like creature was bigger than the green one. His scales were as black as the coals in the fire pits and his eyes burned red and angrily like a crazed dog. He opened his mouth, which displayed the great maw and charcoal black teeth. A woman in a white armor dress was on his back. This must be the lost Targaryen queen and Jon's wife. She was a vision even though her dress was covered in soot. She said nothing as she went to Jon's side and peered at the scene before her. Her lavender hues held Sansa's gaze. They were harsh, unwavering with power.
"We have taken the city with blood and fire. Give us the throne and you are allowed to live." The silver haired lady spoke icily. The blade traced a circle on Sansa's throat as silence spread across the high ceiling room. Rhaegal and Drogon blew more smoke through their noses as time went on.
"You have no way out, Joffrey. Take it." Sansa murmured to her fiancé.
"It's mine. You are mine. Everything is mine." He growled back.
"I am no one's object." She replied. Taken by surprise and the harshness of her words, he loosened his grip on her and her right hand reached for the blade. Her ivory hand grasped the sharp end and forced it outward. It sliced her hand, but she felt Joffrey lose his grip and the knife stayed in her palm. She turned around and repositioned the dagger to hold the grip. Without thinking, she swept the blade across the Lion King's neck. Blood burst from the inflicted wound onto her face.
"It's over, " She heard herself say and watched as her tormentor fell to his knees gasping for breath.
Six Months Later…
Jon and Daenerys Targaryen took the Iron Throne as dual heirs. The queen soon found out she was carrying a child following the Lion King's death and a new heir was expected in the winter. The rest of the nobility bowed down to the new royals. Granted the Lannisters were replaced with a Western family that had helped storm Casterly Rock by housing the Targaryen army.
Sansa recovered in the capital from the stress and shock but assisted in helping Jon and Dany form their council. Sansa apologized for her mother's poor treatment of Jon in the past and became a trusted member. He insisted that she become a lady in waiting to Dany, but she declined and stated, "There always needs to be Stark in Winterfell." He relented and gave her her childhood home.
As the Lady of Winterfell, she was expected to take a husband as soon as possible. She desired to rule in her own right. She would never be under another man's thumb, especially not a slimy horse faced selfish bastard. The Tyrells sent many suitors and she entertained them but gave no further attention. From the sands of Dorne, they sent sun-kissed men, but she deterred them with the cold climate and even colder lady. A bastard Baratheon was found and legitimized, but she smiled sweetly and told the letter carrier to dismiss any further notions she would marry a Baratheon.
Sansa would only marry a hound, but he left soon after the Targaryen conquest. Jon and Dany realized he had been secreting messages to their spy network in order to capture Lannisport and Casterly Rock. They offered him a position as a Royals' Guard, but he declined. He had no wish to continue serving any ruler.
Sansa sighed briefly and decided to make an appearance in the formal hall to host the court. Her gown was silver and white. The sleeves were embroidered with yellow and red leaves with wolves hidden in-between them. A dagger was at her right hip. It was the one used to kill a king.
"Lady Sansa of House Stark resides over this court session today," a man announced as she took her seat. She decided to hold monthly court in order to reacquaint herself with the North and settle disputes between commoners. This manner of ruling is what she had heard of and wanted for her countrymen and women. A good ruler would do this.
"The first complaint of the day is from a man who wishes to serve as a shield, but due to past grievances requires explicit permission from milady to protect. Step forward and present your case." Her announcer stated. A tall man in a black cloak came forward with his face covered.
Sansa straightened her back as she knew this was her Hound.
"Does a she-wolf still wish for this old hound?" He asked as he pulled his hood off revealing the burnt face she knew and adored. There were wrinkles under his eyes, crow's feet at the corners, but his grey eyes were steady. His black hair showed signs of greying. His frame was bulking and firm. Finally, Sansa was the one with the authority to determine his place in her world. Not the other way around.
"That depends. What does an old hound have to offer?" She asked. Her court members tilted their heads in slight confusion. Obviously, this man was the Lannister's Hound, what could he possibly have to offer that Lady Stark would want? Especially since he was seeking service as a shield.
"I have a blade to cut down her enemies, an ugly face to scare off any men, and I will never lie to you." He said as he stared directly at her.
"I see…Why do you want to serve me then?" Sansa asked, amused by his forthrightness. It had always been a strength of his. She admired him for it.
Sandor took in a breath and looked at the other members of her court. People who had helped Jon in his rise to the throne and fellow Northerners.
"A hound must have a master to be of any value. When I served the Lannister I did not know any other master before I met a little bird. I saw the horrors of a royal court on this little bird and I wished to shield her from any pain. However, I could not provide any help other than sharp words and to prevent some of the beatings. I have regrets and I wish to atone in some way for them. Serving as your shield would be the first step. " He watched for a reaction during his speech.
She leaned forward in her chair. Sansa wanted him to be more than her shield, but her court would not approve of it now until he proved himself.
"Come forward," The woman said and gestured him closer to her. The tall man walked forward slowly. His sword and other deadly weapons had been removed to ensure her safety prior to court. Her Tully blue eyes watched as he hesitantly stopped three feet before her. She stood up and closed the distance between them. Her head reached his shoulder, so she had to look up to meet his eyes.
"You will be my shield. Every day and night you will be my side. You will be my shadow and don the white and grey colors of House Stark. Forget your old life as a hound and become my wolf. No one will question you by my side in the years to come. I know you to be trustworthy and if anyone questions your place then they are undermining my words and actions. You will be my protector and guard. For you will be my wolf and part of my pack." She emphasized the word my when describing his place at her side. He looked down at her with his eyes blazing with understanding.
He was finally hers. One day in the future she would be his.