Over the next week before the wedding, guests started arriving in masses. It was becoming increasingly difficult for the betrothed couple to find a moment alone due to the increased foot traffic to the gardens and hallways. Oftentimes, the couple were whisked apart for the better part of a day due to separate plans (Defyra saw to some wedding details while Sandor completed his last week of duty to the King). Their affections were limited to fleeting kisses at her chamber door and generous hand-holding. Even with the inconvenience of never being alone, they enjoyed long talks, voicing their hopes and plans for their future together.
Oberyn and Ellaria arrived one morning and later joined Defyra, Sandor, and all of their friends for a late afternoon sit-down that included tea, wine, and various foods. Sandor dragged a plate of chicken wings towards himself.
"I'm happy to see such a good change from the last time we visited," said Oberyn, looking around the table with a smile as he pulled out a chair for his paramour next to Grace and Pod.
"So many good-looking people at one table," said Ellaria. She looked over at Pod. "I haven't seen this one before, though. He's quite handsome."
"Podrick Payne, my Lady," said Pod, bowing his head and reaching for her hand. She smiled at him.
"I'm no Lady, but I won't say no to a kiss." She gracefully held out her hand and Pod dropped a quick air kiss. Grace watched the interaction with a faint smile. The smile widened when Pod turned to Grace and rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Have you met my betrothed? Lady Grace Greenfield." Oberyn walked to the other side of Pod and gently took Grace's hand.
"An honor to meet again, Lady Grace." Oberyn kissed her knuckles gently. Pod kept stoic and kept his hand on her shoulder.
"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Grace. Much happiness to you and Podrick," said Ellaria, placing her hand over Pod's for a moment.
"Thank you, Ellaria," said Grace, showing her teeth as she smirked at the woman. She returned her gaze to Pod and they shared a secret smile as The Dornish couple settled into their seats.
"And you two look quite happy," said Oberyn to Denys and Bethany on the other side of him, sitting with their chairs quite close together.
"We are, my friend," quipped Denys, sliding his arm around Bethany's shoulders. She leaned into him, a pleased smile on her face.
"And how are you, my dear?" Ellaria asked Defyra across the table.
"Busy with preparations most of the day. I'd like this week to be over," said Defyra.
"We are glad that you're coming with us. It will be a good time for you to relax," said Ellaria.
"My Big Hound and I can't wait to bask in our wedded bliss in Dorne," said Defyra, grinning. "Or in general, in his case." Ellaria and the other ladies giggled.
"Careful with your teasing now," growled Sandor, quiet enough for only her to hear. Defyra winked at him.
"How's your home coming along?" asked Oberyn.
"Renovations on the Keep are taking time because they have to dispose of the filth left behind. Some of the stones in the foundation were starting to crumble. We won't be living there for a while," said Sandor.
"Work for the vineyard has started already," said Defyra. "We don't want to be too far behind in the game. We still need to overtake you in Essos."
"Still looking forward to it, my friend," chuckled Oberyn.
"Which reminds me," said Sandor, reaching into his pocket. "We'll be showing you up on wine sales with this sigil on our bottles." He laid a handkerchief out on the table. The design of the sigil was the Redwyne cluster of grapes as the backdrop to a single running black hound.
"Good one," said Denys, admiring the design. "I'd like to make my own sigil when the time comes."
"I like the red grapes for your Sweet Red," complimented Oberyn. "It's a good sigil."
The conversation turned to Grace and Pod, Ellaria asking how they met. Denys and Bethany smirked as the other two blushed.
As most of the attention was on Pod recounting the tale, Sandor's left hand came to rest on the nape of Defyra's neck, his fingers tracing slow circles into her skin. She tried to focus on sipping her wine and listening to the table's conversation with a calm face, but the feel of his touch sent tingles down her spine. She slowly looked at him as she set her cup on the table and saw his dark eyes silently watching her. As their eyes met, his thumb and forefinger lightly pinched the sensitive skin of her neck. She barely held in the whimper that threatened to escape and gave him a half-hearted frown. The corner of his mouth moved just a little bit. His thumb gently but firmly traced a slow path down her spine. She took a deep breath, drawing her hands to her lap. In a smooth motion, her right hand slid from her lap to his, her palm resting on his thigh. His hand suddenly froze.
Feeling a small victory, her fingers started mimicking the slow circles he had traced on the fabric of his trousers over his inner thigh. His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth.
"Def," he growled in a warning. His fingers dug into her back suddenly, his dark eyes burning into hers. "Stop."
The smile she gave him was devilish, but she slowly slipped her hand off of his thigh...and trailed it down to his knee where her hand came to rest. He heaved a sigh and covered her hand with his.
"Fucking tease," he muttered into her ear.
"A shame you can't take what you dish out," she retorted in a whisper. He gave a huff of amusement before moving his hand to her knee.
"Like you can handle it any better," he teased, squeezing her leg slowly. Her face flushed and he let out a raspy chuckle.
"It's very interesting how one can easily tell if a pair of lovers have gotten a bit of the other or not. Not, in the case of these two," they heard Oberyn say. Sandor and Defyra slowly returned their attention to the rest of the table, who were all looking at them with various amused expressions.
"Pardon?" asked Defyra, raising a brow.
"You heard me," replied Oberyn with a smirk.
"I won't take her until we're wed, but I've gotten a good taste of her," said Sandor boldly. Defyra's face burned and she briefly pondered drowning herself in her wine goblet. Oberyn and Ellaria smirked slowly, seeming impressed by Sandor's boldness.
"We don't need to know that!" wailed Denys, looking childish as he covered his ears.
"I didn't need to see your pale ass in the garden that day!" Sandor retorted.
Bethany and Grace were falling over while giggling. Pod was smiling in amusement.
"You didn't have to say anything," said Defyra, sounding slightly cross.
Sandor pulled her close and pressed his lips against her neck. "I'm not embarrassed to talk about us. What's gotten you bashful all of a sudden?" His lips continued down her neck. She cracked a smile as his beard tickled her skin.
"Of course you're not embarrassed," said Defyra. "You have no filter, my love."
"Would you want me any other way?" Sandor asked, placing yet another kiss.
"Of course not," said Defyra as she slipped an arm around him. "I would have you yelling every obscenity you know and saying whatever you please...Would you have me any other way?" Sandor straightened up, looking her in the eyes.
"No," he said. "But I'd have you right now if I could." Defyra blushed, leaning her forehead against his.
"Two damn days can't go by fast enough," she whispered before stealing a kiss.
Sandor would have never thought he'd be doing this, ever, but here he was. He stood in front of the Royal family in the throne room, bowed, and knelt. Defyra was standing off to the side next to Tyrion, looking proud. Jon Arryn rose to make the announcement.
"Lord Sandor Clegane, you have served the Crown faithfully for many years as a dedicated and loyal sworn sword. The Royal Family wishes you good tidings for your future endeavors and presents to you this medal for your service." Sandor looked up as a page boy timidly walked over and held out a red cushion. There lay a red-ribboned medal with a golden lion's head. He took it and the boy scurried off.
"It was an honor to serve, Your Graces," he said, looking up at the Royal Family. They all held polite smiles except for Joffrey, who looked rather upset with crossed arms. He noticed the boy send a sour look Defyra's way. He looked away when the boy's gaze returned to him, lest he accidentally glared at the child.
"Congratulations, Lord Clegane. We look forward to your day tomorrow," said the king.
Sandor rose when the court moved on to the next matter and joined Defyra and Tyrion. Defyra smiled as she took his medal and pinned it on the right side of his chest. He took a moment just to look at her, studying her face as she examined the details of the lion's head. This time tomorrow, he would be hers and she would be his. Their life together was about to begin.
Defyra fretted with her appearance in the mirror just a couple of hours before her wedding to Sandor. She wore a cream-colored dress with burgundy accents along the hemlines and buttons. The corset she wore underneath made her breasts look perkier than usual and her waist more flared.
She had been joined in her room by her mother, Ellaria, Bethany, and Grace. Her mother and Grace had worked on styling her hair while Ellaria and Bethany watched while drinking wine. Their talk had started about the ceremony and reception, but then soon turned to the wedding night.
"You are still a virgin?" Lady Redwyne asked, her brow raised. No doubt she was thinking about the day in the garden.
"I am, mother." Defyra blushed. "We haven't had enough privacy to slip up too far." Her mother laughed.
"It helps to deal with any pain that night if you drink lots of wine beforehand," said Ellaria. "It loosens you up." Defyra wrinkled her nose at herself in the mirror.
"Yes...It may hurt at first, but hopefully not for long," said Lady Redwyne.
"Have you seen him? One jab and she will ache for days!" The last comment made by Lady Bethany sent every woman in the room into laughter.
"Stop it, you! He wouldn't hurt me," said Defyra, curbing her own laughter. She blushed. "He's quite gentle when he holds me."
"So you just sit there and hold each other?" said Bethany, wiggling her eyebrows. Defyra laughed.
"As I said, we haven't had enough privacy to do what you and Denys were doing in that gazebo," teased Defyra. Her mother's jaw dropped and the other ladies had to cover their mouths.
"You walked in on them?!" Lady Redwyne sounded like a gossiping teenager for a moment.
"Sandor and I were looking for a private spot…" They all laughed once more.
"You're quite lucky, my dear, to have met the right Clegane brother," said Ellaria.
"He's nothing like his brother at all. He shouldn't even be compared," said Defyra.
"You're going to have such a great life together," said Grace, smiling.
"I'm glad that he found you, my dear. I see how he looks at you and it makes me so happy for you," said Lady Redwyne. She walked behind Defyra to gaze at her in the mirror. "You look perfect. Are you ready?"
Defyra took a deep breath and smiled at the thought of seeing Sandor. "I am."
She walked into the Sept on her father's arm. Rows of people lined the room. They walked past several generations of Redwynes and associated families. Her eyes found Sandor's at the front of the Sept and tears sprang to her eyes when she saw how he was looking at her. His eyes were filled with such affection for her, a small rare smile on his face as he watched her approach. Her father led her to where Sandor stood and removed the Redwyne cloak she had worn to symbolize her family's protection over her. He then placed her hand into Sandor's, smiling at them both. Sandor led her up the steps to the altar.
"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection," said the Septon.
Sandor took off his cloak to place over her and she glimpsed their new combined sigil before turning around and letting him drape it around her. It was still warm from his body heat. She turned back around to face him, their gazes locked.
A ribbon was tied around their joined hands. "Let it be known that Defyra of House Redwyne and Sandor of House Clegane are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." The Septon then unraveled the ribbon.
"Look upon each other and say the words," commanded the Septon. They turned to one another, joining hands. Sandor's brow was furrowed in concentration as his dark eyes met her green ones.
"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger..." They gazed into each other's eyes as they said the words in unison, albeit Defyra was the one prompting the words.
"I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," said Sandor.
His deep voice nearly drowned out Defyra's voice as she recited at the same time, "I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days." The Septon gestured and nodded to Sandor once the vows were said.
"With this kiss, I pledge my love," said Sandor quietly.
"We can barely hear you. Louder" prompted the Septon. "For the crowd." Sandor shot a glare at him.
"WITH THIS KISS," boomed Sandor, "I PLEDGE MY LOVE." His voice rang clear throughout the entire Sept. Several people sounded like they were trying to hold in laughter. The Septon rolled his eyes and stepped away. Defyra broke into giggles and chanced a look at the crowd. She spotted Cersei looking at Sandor like he had sprouted three extra heads. Next to her, Joffrey, Tommen, and Robert were red in the face trying to keep their composure while Myrcella simply looked startled. Across the way, she saw her parents and friends shaking with silent laughter.
Sandor gently turned her attention back to him by putting a finger under her chin, snuffing out her giggles with a chaste but sweet kiss. The crowd cheered.
Defyra was overwhelmed but glad to see that so many distant relatives had made the trek to King's Landing.
"It's like a sea of fire," grumbled Sandor, looking out over all the redheads milling about the dozens of tables arranged about the gardens. The only break in the sea of fire was Olenna Tyrell and her headdress.
"Dear little Defyra, how you've grown." Lady Olenna offered a hand to her, and Defyra respectfully took it and placed a soft kiss.
"It's good to see you again, Auntie," said Defyra. "This is my husband--"
"I know exactly who he is. No need for introduction," said Olenna bluntly. "Sandor 'The Hound' Clegane. You're much larger than how they describe you. But they say you're nothing like that brute of a brother you killed."
"He was a cunt," replied Sandor. Defyra nearly choked on her sip of wine, looking to Olenna for her reaction. Olenna paused to tilt her head, scrutinizing Sandor.
"A bit of a vulgar mouth never did any harm. You chose a good one, dear. Keep him satisfied," said Lady Olenna, touching her on the shoulder. Defyra managed to nod and smile as Olenna moved on. Defyra leaned towards Sandor.
"You can't keep using that word around my older relatives," she hissed. "You might give the fragile ones a stroke."
"You knew you were marrying me," he hissed back. "And mind your elders. Your aunt demands that you satisfy me." She snorted and pulled him into a long kiss, which drew cheers from the crowd.
Wine steadily flowed. Defyra fielded most of the wellwishers, although she didn't expect much from Sandor on that matter anyway.
She was entertained watching him interact with Beric and Thoros.
"Many congratulations to you both," said Beric, placing a light kiss on her hand and then shaking hands with Sandor.
"I'd say we need to wish Lady Clegane good luck in dealing with this man for the rest of her life!" Thoros joked, patting her hand. Beric chuckled with him. Sandor narrowed his eyes at the men.
"Like I'm going to make life difficult for my wife," grumbled Sandor.
"You've got to keep that temper in check," said Thoros.
"And be on your best behavior," added Beric.
"What--are you two my sword-swallowing uncles now?!" snarled Sandor.
"Now, now, gentlemen," interjected Defyra. Beric and Thoros sobered their demeanors rather quickly to pay her attention. "I would like my husband to be at least a little bit naughty for me."
The men howled in laughter, and Sandor embraced her from the side, smirking with approval.
When the hour drew late, the crowd, rowdy with wine, started to voice shooing the couple to their bedchamber. When planning the wedding, the two were adamantly against a bedding ceremony. Thankfully, all they had to endure were guests yelling cheeky jokes and suggestions at them.
Sandor finally stood. He offered a hand to Defyra, who took it and rose unsteadily to her feet. Some in the crowd joked about her partaking in too much wine. She aimed a sly smile at her friends in the crowd as her new husband led her away.