It had been a number of years since the Long Night.

The North was still brisk as ever, but nothing like that Winter. My husband perished battling at Winterfell, and now he and a few other men from our village had statues in their honor in the village marketplace.

Five years of being reminded of his absence.

Five years waking in an empty bed, his belongings still untouched on his bedside table.

I stay sane these days helping his aunt Opal run the family inn. She's getting on in years and has no children of her own, so the inn would go to me once she was gone. It was mainly us two gals. We had a couple of stable hands to feed and water guests' horses and do some occasional heavy lifting of firewood and washtubs.

It was an endless cycle at the inn, with the changing clientele the only thing to keep things interesting. I had talked to people from all reaches of Westeros and even a few from Essos. The Starks and their bannermen regularly traveled through for years.

I saw Queen Sansa once or twice every year when she traveled to King's Landing to attend an annual council. She was a sweet young woman who was able to laugh and joke with her people like any other. I appreciated that she made it a point to visit the statues in the square each time she passed through.

Jon Snow was the King Beyond the Wall, and even he made the trek alongside Sansa. He brought along a great number of Freefolk who preferred to pitch tents outside. They seemed a joyful bunch that wasn't hard to please at all. Opal and I would keep roasting chickens until the lot was well fed.

Other than that, my life was routine. My purpose was to keep my patrons happy.

But I needed to shake up my routine or I feared I'd just fade with the dust.


I was very certain that the man sitting in the corner of the inn was staring at me.

He hadn't taken the hood off of his cloak since he had walked in a few minutes ago. His very presence was quite ominous and other patrons of the inn seemed to hurry by him while averting their eyes.

I finished wiping down a horn mug and headed to his table, taking a small plate of bread and salt with me. His hood dipped a bit as he watched me place it in front of him before raising his head to look at me. I still couldn't see his eyes but could make out a strong jaw with a dark beard. I mustered up a plain smile that I used with all of my patrons.

"What's it gonna be, dove?" I asked softly. My heart was racing with nerves. I just hoped he wasn't a bandit waiting for the place to be empty enough to plunder.

"Ale, chicken, and a room for a fortnight." He had a rather unassuming deep voice that had a hint of a Westerland accent, but his armor suggested he was from King's Landing.

"Certainly, dove, I'll get that started straight away for 100 gold and 50 silver." He plunked the correct amount of coins onto the table instead of my outstretched hand. My smile wavered. Nonetheless, I swept the pile of coins into my apron and headed into the kitchen. The owner and cook of the inn, Opal, looked up at me as I bustled in.

"I've got one chicken for the man in the corner."

"Are you alright, dearie?" She started to prepare the serving plate.

"I'm fine. It's just that man is rather unsettling. He has yet to take off his hood." I took out a horn mug and started pouring ale into a jug from the barrel. As I did this, Opal sidled up to the kitchen doorway and peeked out.

"That's a very large man. Be careful, Kezya."

"I will."

I walked back out into the inn, instantly feeling his gaze on me. I promptly set his ale and the jug in front of him, and he pushed the empty plate toward me that only had a trail of salt left on it. I took it and turned to leave before I remembered something and turned back.

"What's your name, dove? For the room."

He had already raised the mug to his lips and took his sweet time chugging it down. He set the mug back down on the table before answering.

"Waters."

I paused before nodding and wordlessly going on my way to check rooms.

"Psst," someone hissed at me on the stairwell. I looked to see an older couple leaning over the railing.

"What's the story about that hooded bloke?" The woman talked in hushed tones.

"I'm still trying to figure that out myself. Says his name is Waters."

"I'm not surprised he's a bastard," sneered the man. "That lot never got up to any good."

"I'll just be thankful if he doesn't raise hell until he leaves," I said.

I went back down after checking the empty rooms and assigned Mr. Waters to one at random.

"More ale, girl," he said upon my return, plunking the empty jug on the table in front of me.

"Right away. I have you in the room at the very end of the hall upstairs, Mr. Waters."

I placed his key on the table.

The man dug into his chicken in the manner of a dog that hadn't been fed in weeks. I hadn't realized that I had been staring until he stopped.

"Girl, my jug is empty," he snapped.

I jumped before hurrying forward and snatching it up.

"Right, sorry. Never seen someone enjoy a chicken so well before," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

He just grunted in response as he started biting into the drumstick.

The hour had grown late, but the ominous shadow in the corner had dissuaded nearly all of the normal guests from sitting at the tables. They had left a wide berth of about two tables between him and them if they did choose to stay downstairs and not take their meals to their rooms.

Soon it was just him left. He sat still, the hood still on. I was wary about refilling his jug as he had drunk so much.

Opal came out to help me tidy the tables as I swept.

There was a strange sound in the room.

Opal and I exchanged glances before we both looked at Waters. He was snoring while sitting straight?!

"Dove? D'you need help getting upstairs?" I said softly, gently tapping his shoulder.

Suddenly a strong grip encircled my wrist and I could see light from the chandelier reflected in his dark eyes as he glared up at me.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, shoving my hand away.

"Right, sorry, dove," I apologized hurriedly, my heart racing. "I just thought you'd want to lay in your nice, cozy bed. Just pull the string by your door to ring the bell if you need anything."

He grumbled and stood, walking surprisingly steady despite having drunk his weight in ale. He clunked up the stairs and all was peaceful that night.


The next night, the bell rang for his room. I promptly went upstairs with a jug of ale at the ready and rapped softly on his door.

"It's me, Kezya, Mr. Waters!" I said brightly.

The door opened quickly and I had an involuntary intake of breath at the sight of him. He was seated nearly the entire time I was close to him last night, so it took me by surprise to see him looming above me in the entire door frame.

Just as quickly, I lost my breath to see how attractive he was. His hair was dark brown and shoulder length and was parted in such a way that strands covered the right side of his face. I could tell the skin was rather scarred and marred on that side, but otherwise, he was handsome in a rugged way with dark eyes, a short beard, and a stern heavy brow.

"I want chicken, and stew if you have it. Bring up a jug of ale every hour."

"Right away, dove. Anything else?" I handed over the jug and he took it, looking at me with hesitation.

"Is there a brothel nearby?"

I willed my mind not to wander to inappropriate places before answering him.

"I'm afraid there's not one until another day's ride west, dove," I said the next part flirtatiously. "Might have to settle for a lass here."

He grunted in response before shutting the door in my face. I made a rude gesture at the door before going on with my duties.

He was relatively quiet all evening and answered the door promptly to exchange jugs with me before shutting the door in my face each time. It was getting late and the bell rang again for his room.

He answered the door barechested, and my jaw nearly hit the floor. By the Seven, his chest and biceps were muscular and scattered in a thick layer of dark hair. Looking closely, I could also see many scars, some looking fresher than others.

My gaze had strayed from his face for a moment too long. He looked amused as he traded jugs with me.

"I'll pay you for a night," he said, his voice low and dark eyes boring into mine. My eyes widened and my face heated.

"M-me? I'm just an inn girl." I hadn't thought he would be so forward.

"You said I might have to settle for a lass here. I'm sure you can serve up more for me than chicken and ale."

I coughed, my cheeks growing hot at the look he fixed me with as his eyes trailed over my form curiously. I was used to men in the inn looking me over, but it was quite different when it was someone who had caught my interest in return. My hands twisted nervously in my skirts and I watched him acknowledge the action.

"I would need time to prepare for the night."

"What's to prepare for? You just lay down and take the fucking dick," he said gruffly. I choked on air as I started to laugh. "Gods...You're not a virgin, are you?"

"No, dove," I wheezed, letting go of my skirts to brace a hand on the doorframe. I waited until I regained my breath to say the rest. "I'm widowed. My husband fought for the battle at Winterfell. I haven't been with a man since he died…"

The man looked at me silently, a sadness lingering beneath his furrowed brow. I offered him a reassuring smile.

"That will be all for tonight," he said quietly before shutting the door in my face once more, although softer than the other times.

I stood there for a moment staring at his door. That sad look...did he lose someone at Winterfell as well? Or did he fight there? There were enough deaths there from all the reaches of Westeros.

I sighed and made my way back downstairs to finish up for the night.


I had the next day and night off, which I spent catching up on sleep, going to the markets, and darning some old dresses.

While walking to the markets I passed by the square where my husband and a few other soldiers had statues erected in their honor. I couldn't bring myself to stop, as guilt weighed in the back of my mind.

It had been five years. Five years of restless nights, burying myself in this inn, trying to forget the horrors from that Long Night. Could I bring myself to start living again?

The next evening was business as usual until a bell rang from a familiar room.

"You'd better get that," sing-songed Opal. "Mr. Waters scared Fred so bad he nearly wet his trousers last night. And he looked plum disappointed when he saw it was me at the door this evening."

I climbed the stairs and rapped lightly on the door.

"It's me, Mr. Waters!" He answered the door bare-chested again, stealing my breath once more. He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, horn mug in his hand sloshing with ale. He fixed me with a half-lidded expression of annoyance.

"No need to call me that," he said as he slurred his words. "Just Sandor."

"Alright, Sandor. You may call me Kezya instead of just 'girl'."

"Mhm. You weren't here last night."

"No. I had the night off. Did you miss me?"

"I prefer your company to the damn lad that worked yesterday. The old woman is alright. But she shouldn't climb the stairs as much."

I grinned at him. I saw his gaze focus on my lips.

"Kezya. Stay with me tonight."

I bit my lip and watched him lick his lips in response. If he was to be here for a fortnight, it wouldn't really hurt to indulge in a man that stirred feelings I hadn't thought of in years...would it?

It was like he sensed my hesitation. He slipped a hand behind my head as he leaned down and captured my lips. He slowly pulled me closer and pinned me lightly against the doorframe as his tongue sought entry between my lips. Bless the Seven, Declan had never kissed me like that. My hands found his chest, fingers feeling his muscles appreciatively. The kiss was just getting deeper when a peal of laughter from guests downstairs broke me from my spell and I softly pulled my face away. His expression looked concerned and he quickly removed his hand from my hair. I, however, kept my hands on his chest and he didn't move away.

"I need to finish up my duties," I explained breathlessly. "But perhaps I can get the stable boys to bring up a bath for us."

"You're saying I smell."

"No, no. I just thought...I want to make sure I'm clean. I've been sweating around the place all day."

"I've once had a woman who had just had a man moments before. It does not matter to me."

"That's horrid!" I gagged and he smirked at my reaction. "I'm not a whore. Just a lonely inn girl who was feeling friendly and hospitable until a moment ago."

"Do you want to do this or not?" I met his gaze. He raised a questioning brow. I smiled, softly running my palms up and down his chest.

"I'll send up a bath, dove. I don't know how long I'll be, but take it while it's still warm. I'll join eventually."

"Don't keep me waiting too long," he grumbled.

"Sometimes the wait is worth it." I ran my hands from the top of his chest all the way down to beneath his belly button before I pulled away.

He stood there frozen, just watching me.

I quickly took his empty dishes and brushed past him down the hallway. I looked over my shoulder at him and did a little sashay as I walked away. I felt his gaze on me until I disappeared down the stairs.


He was lounging in the tub about fifteen minutes later when I let myself into the room. Our eyes met as I locked the door behind my back. His muscular arms rested on the sides of the tub, his knees spread underwater. I gulped heavily, my eyes roaming freely over his form. There was a silence charged with the thinly veiled desire that hung between us.

"Take that dress off," he ordered softly, eyeing me up and down. He watched as I obediently undid my laces and ties, slipping my skirts down my legs. He eyed my legs hungrily through the see-through fabric of my chemise. My blouse and corset were tugged off easily, leaving me in just the chemise. I tilted my left hip sensually as I ran a hand from my neck to my hip, softly trailing lower. His eyes followed my hand closely.

"Off," he urged, hands gripping tight the sides of the tub as he watched my hand brush across my thighs.

I took a deep breath before pulling the garment over my head. A piece of hay dislodged itself from my hair and joined the garment on the floor. I smiled sheepishly as he ran his gaze appreciatively over me. I slowly walked over to the tub and he offered a hand to steady me as I stepped in. I took it and, careful not to trod on him, stepped in and slowly lowered myself on my knees. He let his legs envelop me. I glanced down into the water and my jaw dropped at seeing the outline of his manhood. I glanced at him and he looked like he was holding back a laugh.

I settled my hands boldly on his shoulders and he slid his hands over my hips, his fingers ghosting over my skin. His hands slid up to my breasts, cupping and squeezing them, water droplets rolling off of them. I let out a shy moan, drawing his eyes to my face. His thumbs ran over the nipples, causing me to shiver pleasantly.

His gaze was now attentive to my every move.

I slowly washed myself, and he'd occasionally help by wetting my back and shoulders or just glossing a touch over the area I had just scrubbed.

After a while he gently pulled away the pins holding my hair up, letting my ginger waves fall past my shoulders. He twirled a strand between his fingers, closely examining it. He brought it to his lips, kissing it softly before letting the strand go, far-off thoughts in his eyes. I only wished I could glimpse the thoughts and better understand the mysterious man I was currently bathing with.

I sat back and caught his eye again as my hand strayed between my legs. He watched, and I never knew eyes so dark could get even darker.

He pulled me in closer, our chests pressing together as our lips did the same. His hands generously groped at my body, his touches circling closer to my hand at the inside of my thighs. I sighed in wonder against his lips. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be touched like this. My mind went blank with pleasure as his hand brushed mine aside and his fingers found my sensitive nub. He rubbed in quick circles and a long moan left my lips. I impatiently straddled his legs and he wordlessly watched me as I wiggled my hips against him, desperate for more friction. His hardness twitched against my inner thigh.

"Get on the bed," he commanded, his voice cracking slightly from desire. I slowly stood up, his hands trailing over me as I did. I stepped out and hopped over to the bed, nonchalantly leaving a water trail on the floor. I glanced back to see him ogling me as he started to get up. I perched on the foot of the mattress and watched. Seven hells, he was big. He looked at me with desire as he took his hardness into his hand and gave it a few quick strokes.

He walked over and stood in front of me. Pushed me flat on my back before I could think. I braced myself with eyes shut tight for the initial pain of being stretched...and instead felt hands spreading my legs as his face settled between them. I peeked down my belly at him. Praise the Seven, it was like I was a feast the way his lips and tongue moved.

As I felt what he was doing my back arched off of the bed and I made noises of pleasure that I had no control of.

His hands squeezed my thighs to pull me closer as he continued his ministrations on me.

Then, all of a sudden, I felt pressure building at my core. My breaths became louder, more labored, and then...oh!

His hands pinned my hips down as I felt the pressure release and my back arched again as I mewled my pleasure towards the ceiling. He lifted his head, trailing ravenous kisses up my thighs like he was cleaning meat off of a bone. I caught my breath and lay my head back with a sigh of satisfaction.

"We're not done yet," he whispered. He knelt on the bed with his knees at my bottom, nudging my legs wide again. I looked up at him, admiring the sight of his magnificent body so close to me.

There wasn't pain like I thought when he pressed himself into me. He slowly went until he was buried to the hilt. My body only felt slight discomfort, but Seven Heavens, I wanted him badly.

"Hurt?" He grunted.

"No," I breathed, feeling quite the opposite of hurt. "Keep going."

"Good." He covered my body with his, bracing his elbows on either side of me as his hips rolled into mine smoothly.

I found myself grasping at his back, my mouth smashed against his shoulder for fear of making too much noise and disturbing the neighboring room.

He turned his face toward my neck, his forehead resting against me. I heard his breathing, his guttural moans of pleasure, his primal growls. My ankles interlocked at the small of his back and he gave a long groan, grinding us together.

"Oh, again!" I begged desperately against his shoulder. He chuckled breathlessly but obliged. I felt his gaze on me as I held him tighter and shut my eyes tight. Every move he made nudged me closer to my release. He hummed his pleasure into my ear, his hips moving steadily, urgently.

Suddenly, more grinding and I saw a flash behind my eyelids and before I knew it, my legs were trembling around him, pleasure engulfing us as we moved together. I bit his shoulder to muffle myself as I came, tightening around him. He bit my neck in turn as he released into me, small growls escaping from him.

He rolled off of me to catch his breath, and I took a moment to do the same. I sat up to gather my clothes and he grabbed my arm.

"Sleep here."

"If that's what you'd like." He nodded.

"Dress in the morning. Stay." I wordlessly curled up in bed next to him and his arm reached out to pull me into him. We stayed like this until we fell asleep.

He was still asleep when I woke, and one of his legs was wrapped around both of mine. Daylight peeked in from behind the closed curtain and I slipped my legs out gingerly.

His eyes shot open, focusing on me. I smiled sheepishly at him.

"Mornin', dove. Go back to sleep," I whispered. I slowly walked to my clothes in a pile on the floor and started to dress. He rolled over in bed, watching me closely.

"Am I that interesting, dove?"

"You're a different sort of girl," he said. "You say you're not a whore, but you put up a performance to rival theirs."

"Do I? Wasn't any acting involved on my part," I said. I looked at him slyly from under my lashes. "You're such a generous lover, there's no need to act."

He looked flattered and somewhat bashful.

"You haven't even been paid yet," he grumbled.

This made me burst out in a giggle.

"You don't need to pay me, dove. I don't think I ever want to be that sort of girl."

"What if I want to have you again?"

"Then just ask me." I smiled at him. "I'll share your bed at the end of the night if that's what you want."

"I've never had a woman without pay."

"Then count me as your first real woman," I said. His gaze trailed over my face silently, thoughts flitting in those dark eyes. His brow furrowed. I continued hurriedly, "Or don't count me. I expect a high-born man such as yourself to have a Lady on your mind already. I mean no disrespect."

There was another silence. His expression was blank yet his eyes held a hint of sadness.

"Being high born doesn't mean shit. There's no Lady. You'll do. For now."

"You've...never had a sweetheart before, have you, dove?"

"Does it look like it?" He shrugged his hair off of his right side, revealing more of his scarring.

"That doesn't matter. Everyone has scars one way or another. But you...you look like the type of man a girl would love to cheer for at one of those tourneys. And then congratulate him on his victory by bringing him a big mug of ale, then ask to feel his muscles and…" I trailed off, realizing that I was getting carried away.

Sandor looked amused.

"Would you really call a man like me yours?"

"I would if I was worthy enough. You're strong, capable, and you care enough to let me finish first when we-"

"Alright. I get it," he gruffed, rolling over. I glimpsed a bit of a blush before he did.

"You're blushing!" I laughed.

"The fuck I am. Don't you run an inn? Go run it." Even his voice sounded flustered.

I giggled softly on my way out the door.