A/N: Well, here's the chapter where everything starts to come together. Princess Myrcella sails off and King's Landing experiences a riot. I did it mostly from Sandor's POV because we saw what happened to Sansa in the show.

P.S. Don't forget: Review comes right after reading. Just click on that little review button and you will make me one very happy writer.

P.P.S. I did make some changes to the story from its original upload. I agreed with a review that the near rape scene just wasn't what it should have been. Just an fyi.

Chapter 5: Sansa's Knight in Black Armor

Sansa hadn't realized how long her hair had gotten until now. It was also much darker than it used to be. She felt taller too; nearly all her old clothes from Winterfell came above her ankle. The Queen had ordered a dress for Sansa especially for this day. The color was a mix of pale pink with some purple undertone to it. Coincidentally, it was the same color that she had worn the day Joffrey had forced her to look at her father's head on its spike.

The subtle message wasn't missed.

"I don't understand why I have to go," Sansa sighed heavily. She had no interest in watching Myrcella sail off into freedom while she stayed imprisoned at the Red Keep. It wasn't fair.

"You know why, milady," Shae replied.

Both girls grew silent when the new handmaiden walked in. She brought some flowers for Sansa's bath and went about her business. But Sansa knew she was a spy for Cersei. Nearly everyone was. After she donned her dress, the new maid was ready to work on her hair.

Sansa had grown to loathe the hairstyle. The more she looked at it, the more it looked like a bird's nest perched on her hair. "Make it smaller," she demanded. "I don't want it so...poofy."

She caught Shae's smirk in the reflection and it made her smile. At least someone agreed with her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandor was waiting outside Joffrey's chambers. Being the king's sworn shield meant that he and a few other chosen guards would be escorting the king and the rest of the royal party to the landing and back. There were no words to adequately describe how much he did not want to do this. He didn't give a flying fuck about the bastard's little sister. That wasn't saying much really because except for Sansa, he cared for everyone else about the same as he cared for Gregor.

"Come on dog," the blonde idiot commanded.

Sandor walked behind the short king until they got to Cersei's chambers.

The Queen came out with Myrcella in tow. Kissing her only daughter, Cersei handed her over to the girl's septa and turned to her eldest son. "How are you today, Your Grace?" she said formally.

"Tired," Joffrey snipped. "Why must we do this? I don't care if she goes or not."

"She is your sister and a princess," Cersei explained. "It is expected that the king be present when his family is shipped away."

The group started walking again when Joffrey brought up Sansa. "Why is Sansa coming?"

"She is your betrothed. It is expected of her to attend as well." Cersei stopped and looked at her son with a serious expression. "As far as your people know, there is nothing wrong between you two. When you are out in public, you shall uphold that belief."

Joffrey sighed with pure annoyance. "Fine. I hope she at least looks nice today."

"Of course she will, my sweet. She wants to please you."

"Then she should bleed," he snapped. He pushed past the Queen and strode down the main hall to wait for Sansa.

Sandor wanted nothing more than to beat the brat's head in. Sansa always looked nice even after being beaten and crying. A cry of "Finally" from Joffrey had Sandor looking at the stairs. His heart skipped slightly at the sight of Sansa. She seemed to be floating down the stairs in a beautiful gown. It looked a size too big, but he didn't care. Careful not to stare for too long, he shifted his gaze behind her to Tyrion, who was paying his compliments to her.

Sansa looked to where her betrothed was standing and then to her crush behind him. Joffrey looked pleased with her outfit but it was Tyrion who said something nice. "Thank you, my lord," she replied politely. She hadn't really paid attention to what he was saying. She just wished that Shae was able to come rather than these other maids. At least then she'd have someone to talk to.

"Shall we?" Tyrion suggested.

She smiled courteously and took her place behind Joffrey and the rest of the Lannisters. She caught a glimpse of Sandor's face before the doors opened and allowed herself a moment of happiness. The knowledge that he was here relaxed her somewhat, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sandor got a small smile out of Sansa when they reached the shoreline. He had headed down the steps first and watched as everyone took their places. Sansa was directed to stand behind the king but as she did so, she threw him a tiny smile. He didn't show any expression but rather stared back out to the water, where Myrcella being taken away. The priest was starting to grate on his nerves to the point where Sandor just wanted to cut the man's tongue out. He heard a sniffling noise to his left and saw the king's brother crying. Well, there was one Lannister who still had a heart. 'Too bad it won't last long,' he thought grimly. 'It's only a matter of time with Cersei as his mother.'

"One day I pray you love someone," the Queen said. Sandor turned slightly to hear her conversation, even though Cersei wasn't exactly whispering. "I pray you love her so much that when you close your eyes you see her face. I want that for you. I want you to know what it's like to love someone – to truly love someone – before I take her from you."

Sandor's face fell slightly at hearing the Queen's words. She was a heartless bitch if ever he met one and if she could do that without any slight of guilt toward her own brother, she would have nothing to lose by doing it to him. It hammered home the basic reason Sandor could never really be with his little bird. No one was safe in King's Landing. Granted, Tyrion was the only one who had any brains between the Lannister trio, but that didn't mean he was a god. There was only so much protection he and Sandor could give Sansa. If the Queen ever got wind of his desires or even suspected (which he highly doubted because again, no one thought he had feelings) that he was halfway on his way to falling in love, a fate worse than death would await them both.

Another sniffle from the prince drew him back to reality. Joffrey looked like he was utterly disgusted.

"He sounds like a cat mewling for his mother," he spat. "Princes don't cry."

Sansa thought Joffrey had some nerve saying that considering he had her wolf and that butcher's boy killed when Nymeria bit him. He cried then. "I saw you cry," she retorted.

"Did you say something my lady?" Joffrey challenged.

Unlike the incident at his nameday, Sansa wasn't scared of Joffrey's reaction this time. "My little brother cried when I left Winterfell," she explained.

"So?"

"It seems a normal thing." Her tone held as much condescension as she dared to put in it.

"Is your little brother a prince?" he shot back.

Technically... "No."

"Not really relevant then, is it?" Joffrey turned his back and snapped, "Come on, dog."

Sandor had heard the exchange between the two and it made him even angrier than usual. He loathed the king almost as much as he loathed his brother.

On the way back to the Keep, Sandor stuck close to Joffrey. He could feel the tension in the air, but none of the other dimwits in armor did and regardless of how he felt about Joffrey, he was the king's sworn shield. But Joffrey just ignored his people and kept walking. Sandor heard a few remarks about the king being a bastard, which solidified the bad feeling stirring in his veins. His mind raced to Sansa and he took a quick peek back to check on her, making sure to disguise it as a scan of the crowd. She looked okay – depressed, but okay. Much like the rest of the royal party, her mind seemed to be on other things.

They continued walking but Sandor could sense something wasn't right. The crowd was too riled up to stay content in their spaces. The cries from the crowd reached a fever pitch and suddenly, a cow pie landed squarely on Joffrey's face. Instinct kicked in and Sandor drew his sword. Deep down, he had to hand it to the man who threw the shit – he would've bought that man a pitcher of ale for it.

"Who did that?" Joffrey screeched. "Find who did that and bring him to me!"

Sandor kept his face blank and his hand steady on the king's shoulder. But inside, he rolled his eyes at the stupid boy's reaction.

"Kill them! Kill them all!"

Chaos would probably be the best word Sandor could use to describe how everything went. The people attacked guards and each other in a frenzy of hunger and resentment toward the royal family. When Tyrion yelled for everyone to move, Sandor wrapped his arm around the king and started dragging him toward safety.

"What are you doing? I want these people executed!"

"They want the same for you!" Sandor threw back.

The crowd was being cut down by the other guards and yet they never seemed to make any progress. It was frustrating but exhilarating at the same time. Sandor unleashed the Hound and let all the fury he held inside, back out with a vengeance. Somehow, over the clatter, he heard the dwarf ask about Sansa. He handed the king off to another guard and started looking around to see if she had gone in with everyone else, but then he remembered that she had been behind him. A man tried to hit him with a stone, which irritated him, and he thrust his sword into the attacker easily. He looked around and saw a red nest on a head that belonged to Sansa. He went after her, but she disappeared behind the walls. A few men gave chase and that made his blood boil. He knew what they had in mind and he would be damned if it happened on his watch.

As people started attacking each other, Sandor cut his way through anyone that dared to cross his path. He had lost track of her for a moment until his gut told him to go left. He did so and went through a maze of passages, getting angrier with each step. He had to reach her before something happened. The thought of those men sticking their little pricks anywhere near Sansa made him go blind with fury. Panic set in as he realized he had lost her for a moment; but then a half scream came from a few doors down and Sandor raced to the spot. Wild ideas had already started to form in his mind's eye, bringing him closer to the point of being furious that he was too late. Inside the room he could see the man unbuckling his belt and Sansa writhing on the floor, trying to escape the clutches of two other men. He heard her screams get caught up in her throat and he let out a feral growl that came from deep inside him. His nightmare about Gregor raping his little bird came back to him and everything became red. Unchecked, he let his aggression and anger take over as he grabbed the man from the floor. Looking the guy straight in the eyes so that he could watch the life drain from the man's face, he thrust his blade into the man's stomach, spilling his intestines. Tossing him aside, he reached for the next man who had held one of Sansa's legs and stuck his knife deep into the man's back. The next fool tried to run, but got caught in the Hound's grasp. The Hound had already decided that none of these men would survive so turning his back to Sansa, he slit the man's throat admist his cry of help and sheathed the knife. The man who hadn't held her down cowered in the corner. Since he hadn't touched Sansa, the Hound simply ignored him. He took a quick breath to calm down and turned back to face her. Her eyes were wide and full of pure fear. She looked petrified as she lay on the floor with her dress ripped and hair messed up. "You're all right now, little bird. You're all right." He sounded much calmer than he felt as he scooped her up gently to put her over his shoulder. Her body was shaking from fear and he could tell she wanted to cry. But she was safe now and that was all that mattered. He kept a firm grasp on her legs so that she knew he wasn't going to let anything happen to her and he headed toward safety.

Sansa saw the men on the floor, their guts and blood staining the hay beneath them. She'd never forget the scene. A hand wrapped around her leg and kept a firm grip the entire time they were making their way back to the gate. Despite the chaos surrounding them, Sansa had never felt more safe than she did on the Hound's shoulder.

Once inside, Sandor slid her off his shoulder gently and on to the seat connected to the wall. Her breath was coming short and it had him worried that she would pass out.

Tyrion looked concerned as dirt covered her face and there was a cut as well. "Are you hurt, my lady?"

Even though Sansa shook her head, Sandor remarked, "Little bird is bleeding. Someone take her back to her cage – see to that cut." He tried to keep his voice steady, but the fact was that he had been scared for her – scared that he wouldn't get there in time. The two of them made eye contact as her maids led her away. Her face was laced with terror and guilt overwhelmed him that he didn't get to her sooner. Thinking about those men, he had never felt more hateful in his entire life. He would have brought them back from the dead and killed them again - slowly - for what they wanted to do to her.

"Well done, Clegane," Tyrion rushed out.

"I didn't do it for you," he replied roughly. He marched back to the keep to make sure the king was safe and found him venting to his mother.

"I don't care about the Stark girl!" he seethed. "They attacked me! I want them dead!"

"Be calm, my sweet," Cersei said gently. "If you execute them, we will die."

"What do you mean?" Joffrey asked, confused.

"Those people make the bread, wine, clothes...everything we use. If you kill them all, everyone will run. You can give chase, hunt them down and kill them. But it wouldn't change the situation of not having anything to eat, drink, or wear. Yes, they attacked you, but they are starving. Desperate people do desperate things."

"They will pay," he retorted.

"They know that. But for the moment, they just want some food." Cersei watched her son start to calm down. "Hound, make sure no harm comes to my son on his way to his rooms."

Sandor did as commanded and walked behind his king until they reached his chambers.

"Why did you go after the Stark girl?" Joffrey asked. "Your first loyalty is to me, not some stupid girl."

"I beg pardon Your Grace, but that stupid girl is rather valuable at the moment. Should she have died or been harmed, the Stark boy would have retaliated against your uncle."

Joffrey seemed to buy Sandor's explanation. "I suppose that's true." They stood together outside the door for a few moments before Joffrey spoke again. "Did they rape her?"

"No, Your Grace."

"Pity. She could have used the practice."

Sandor let out a growl the moment Joffrey shut his door. He shouldn't have been surprised though after what happened with the whores. The tiny king had a penchant for violence. In other words, Joffrey was the blonde, richer version of Gregor. And Sansa was going to be wed to him. The thought itself made him sick. "Fuck, I need wine."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Milady!" Shae exclaimed. She rushed over to the redhead and put her arm around the girl's waist.

"I'm okay," Sansa said as she was helped to her bed. She got rid of her maids the moment she sat, leaving just her and Shae.

"What happened?" the brunette asked.

"There was a riot."

A soft knock at the door interrupted the moment. Shae opened it to see Tyrion standing in the doorway. "My lord," she bowed.

"Might I speak with the Lady alone for a moment?" he asked kindly. Shae nodded and left quietly, shutting the door on her way out. "My Lady, I hope my visit doesn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, my lord."

"I wanted to see for myself how you were." He looked her over with a pensive expression. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. The Hound – he saved me."

"Yes, I saw. Have you seen him by chance? I wanted to talk to him."

"No, my lord. I was ordered to come back here."

"A good decision for certain. Let's get that cut taken care of shall we? Oh, how do you like your maid – Sheila, was it?"

"Shae."

"Shae. Yes, I have to remember that."

"I like her very much. She's very kind." Sansa dared not say anymore.

"Good. I'm sorry to take up your time. Please, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, my lord." He gave her a warm smile and took his exit, sending Shae back in.

"Is everything okay?"

"He asked about the Hound," Sansa replied.

Shae smiled tightly at the girl. The young woman seemed to have gone off in her own world. "Let's get you a warm bath."

Sansa stared at her reflection while the bath was getting ready. She gently pulled the twists and knots out of her hair, leaving it a red mess. Her face had a cut where the man hit her and it was bleeding. Dirt and hay was stuck to her body and clothes. They were reminders of what could have happened had Sandor not come along. He may not be her knight in shining armor like Ser Loras, but he was her knight nonetheless. His armor was just a different color, dimmed by the anger that constantly consumed him. If it were up to him, he would probably have every part of his armor in black to reflect what he thought was the color of his soul.

A soft smile came to her lips as she imagined Sandor in that color. 'My knight in black armor,' she mused to herself.

"It's ready," Shae announced.

Sansa said her thanks before slipping into the hot water. She sat for a moment and let the warmth soak into her skin before dunking her head under. On the surface, she could see her hair floating above and spreading out into individual strands. She closed her eyes and tried to relax but when she did, the men's faces flashed across her memory. She shook her head to get rid of them but they didn't budge.

The man's breath on her neck when he asked if she had ever been fucked lingered in her memory; his hollow eyes that held nothing but contempt for her etched itself into her brain – all of it was swimming around in her mind. She could see them clear as day; as though they were standing over her again. She closed her eyes and tried to retreat into better thoughts, but those men refused to leave. One them brandished a knife and stuck into her chest.

Sansa screamed under the water, choking on it during the process. She grasped the edge of the bathtub and pulled herself up. The water burned her lungs and she couldn't breathe.

Shae burst into the room and saw the girl clutching the edges with all her strength. She was crying though it was hard to tell since drops of water were cascading down her face. She rushed to the young girl's side and gently led her out of the water. Sansa collapsed on the floor, bringing Shae with her. She wrapped her arms around the redhead's naked shoulders and pulled her close to let her sob. "It's all right," she cooed. She gently stroked Sansa's wet hair and rocked her softly, making sure that there were no sudden movements.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Clegane," Tyrion called. "Please, come in."

Sandor strode into the Hand's inner chambers. It was the only place Tyrion somewhat trusted to talk about such delicate things. "My lord," Sandor addressed.

"Take a seat, Hound. I only want to talk." Sandor did as commanded but didn't say a word. "Not one for conversation are you?" he teased lightly. "Then again, you never have been."

Sandor wondered what the little man had planned. They had never talked alone before save for a few times in Winterfell. "Yes, my lord."

"Enough with the formalities," Tyrion chided. "You saved my nephew and Lady Stark today. I'd say that act of bravery deserves some wine. I know how fond you are of it." He handed a cup to Sandor and smiled. He watched as the man took a sniff of it first then downed it. This was one of the few times Tyrion wasn't entirely confident in how to bring such a sensitive subject so he went with his favorite tactic: brutal honesty. "How long have you been in love with Sansa Stark?"

Had Sandor been drinking, he would have choked on his wine. "What?"

"Don't get upset. I know how to keep a secret."

"I am not in love with that girl."

"Might I remind you that I am neither my sister nor Joffrey; I stay alive because of what I see and hear. And what I saw and heard today was nothing short of love – not that I'm an expert at it mind you." Sandor didn't say a word as Tyrion took a seat across from him. "I certainly don't blame you: she's a very beautiful girl on the cusp of womanhood. Men have started to notice her beauty in a different light now. Why should you be any different?"

"I am the king's dog," Sandor replied quietly.

"Only to the king you are. To Sansa, you are a knight in shining armor."

"Stupid girl."

"Naïve, yes. Stupid? Certainly not. Do not mistake her compliancy for happiness, Clegane. She is as unhappy about her betrothal to the king as you are."

"What do you want, dwarf?"

"What are you offering?" When Sandor didn't say anything, another smile grazed Tyrion's lips. "See, unlike the rest of my family, I have no desire to see others suffer due to my hunger for power. The truth is that I am rather confused at your choice. There are plenty of women who would like the honor of taming the infamous Hound. Why her?"

"Because she doesn't want to tame the Hound," Sandor shrugged.

"You are a very mysterious and complicated man, my friend. Just when I think I have you figured out, you do this. What am I supposed to make it? When Sansa and the king are married, whose sons will she give birth to: the king or the Hound's?" Sandor reached for his knife at Tyrion's blunt words. "Oh, put it away, Clegane. I meant no offense. What you do is your business; however, Sansa deserves to keep her honor wouldn't you agree?"

"Aye."

"Do you know what would happen should anyone else figure this out?"

"The king would have our heads," Sandor mocked.

"Heads? No, no, no. He wouldn't give you a quick death – nor her, probably. No, I'll tell you what would happen. You and Sansa would be brought before the court. Joffrey would mostly likely have you in chains and force you to watch as she was raped by every member of the kingsguard; then, after they were through, he would beat her within an inch of her life. He'd bring her outside into the square just as he did with her father and force her to speak about her crimes. After that, he'd either strip her of her status as a lady and then put her on the street to be beaten and raped; or he would keep her as a prisoner and continue to have her tortured and raped until he got tired of looking at her. You saw what he did to those whores. Look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn't do worse to a woman he truly hated."

Sandor took the pitcher of wine and drank from it.

"As for you," Tyrion continued. "He would mostly force you to stay in the kingsguard so that you would have to watch everything. Or he might show you some mercy and let you live far away from here, never to see her again."

"I'd come back for her," Sandor pledged.

"You could try. But we all know my nephew isn't the type to give up his toys easily."

"I could cut every single one of those men down in seconds."

"And then what? You two would live happily ever after? Clegane, I'm disappointed. You were never one to believe in happy endings. With a boy like Joffrey on the throne, he'd get pleasure out of watching Sansa cry over whatever fate the two of you were sentenced to." Sandor looked down at the floor before chugging back another gulp. "You see, Clegane, this would never be about you. You could run away and the Queen might hunt you down, but Joffrey wouldn't. Sansa...is a different matter entirely. He already punishes her for her brother's actions; what do you think he'll do when it comes to light that his trusted sworn shield wants to fuck his future queen?"

"I do not want to fuck her!" Sandor bellowed.

"Fine, make love," Tyrion corrected. "The point is that the Starks are our number one enemy at the moment. You really think Joffrey would let you live knowing how you feel about his betrothed?"

"The little king has no fucking brains."

"True enough, but his mother does."

"Fuck your riddles, imp."

"Let's not resort to name calling," Tyrion sighed. "I understand your trepidation. Emotions are a dangerous thing to possess in King's Landing, especially when you are at court. Have no fear Clegane. I shall keep your little secret to my dying day." He met Sandor's glare and laughed. "You don't trust me," he stated. "Fair enough. You may not like me, but you have saved Lady Stark, which has in turn saved my head. I am in your debt and you know what they say about Lannisters and debt."

"Aye, I do. I don't want your promises, dwarf."

"Then what do you want?"

"To be left alone."

"As much joy as that would give me, I can't turn my back on what I know. I'm in no position to tell you how you should or shouldn't feel; but I will caution you. If you truly want to keep her safe, you will discourage her from reciprocating these feelings."

Sandor made no movement or sound for quite some time. He was letting the gravity of the situation slowly sink in. Tyrion was right as always. "Are we done?"

Tyrion nodded once and walked him to the door. "Remember what I said, Clegane. I'll do my best to help, but it is up to you how things go from here."

Without waiting to be dismissed, Sandor lurched the door opened and walked out. He took the case of wine with him as he left. The dwarf had plenty at his disposal. "Fuck the seven hells," he muttered as he stalked the hallway. He took a large gulp of the sour drink and headed for his room. Sansa would okay tonight. There would be extra guards to make sure that nothing else happened. He had the rest of the night off, but he was in no hurry to sleep.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sansa sat staring into the mirror when Shae grabbed her chin. She felt the rag dab at her skin roughly. "Ow," she harped.

"Shh. It's not deep."

"I thought they were going to kill me."

"They thought so too."

"He hated me, the man who hit me. I saw it in his eyes – hated me." Sansa could still see the empty black pits of the man. "He never met me before, but he wanted to hurt me." Sansa couldn't understand how someone could be so hateful toward someone they didn't even know.

"Of course he did."

"Why? Why would a stranger-"

"You are everything he will never have. Your horse eats better than his children." Shae could see the flicker of guilt in Sansa's blue eyes. "It doesn't matter now. He's dead."

Sansa thought that just because she was a highborn didn't mean she was heartless. "I would have given them bread if I had it." She took a deep breath as the faces of the people looked at her with envy. Joffrey hadn't even acknowledged them. "I hate the king more than any of them!"

Shae grasped Sansa's arm roughly. "Don't say these things. If the wrong people hear you!"

"But you're not the wrong people." Shae couldn't be. She was the only one Sansa trusted.

Shae walked away so that Sansa couldn't see her face. Tyrion had told her that spies were everywhere. "Don't trust anybody," she warned quietly. "Life is safer that way."

Sansa glanced at the brunette with a sad expression. "I'm alone aren't I?"

Shae couldn't help but give the poor girl a sympathetic smile. "We are all alone in some way, milady."