Chapter 3

Isibil – at the brothel during Phineas Harris' trial

Isibil was eating her lumpy porridge in the vacant brothel at the table where she always would break her fast each day. She didn't awaken until well past the proper hour this day due to some late-night entertainment with two inspiring knights last night. Thinking of the experience put a humored smile on her face. The men were more like boys in their conduct once the doors were closed to receive their pleasure. Each had had their fair share of women Isibil was sure, but they acted like green boys once they had her alone. The boys couldn't have been any more than twenty and one, and Isibil is sure they hadn't had a threesome before. Isibil is skilled and attentive in her work though so after some coxing and ego-busting the boys performed the job just fine. When they first approached her with their request, she hesitated to have two men as she's seen some of horrific aftereffects of women in the past. But looking on the faces of the two boys she surmised they wouldn't be much trouble.

Isibil had been a whore most of her life and had entertained countless men since her teens. Maybe if circumstances had been different for her or her family then she wouldn't still be here, past her prime at thirty and eight. Isibil had three siblings but when she was a young girl at ten and six her father died in a brawl during his frequent visits to the taverns. Her father made it an everyday habit of visiting the taverns and brothels after her mother died of fever only four years prior. She and her three siblings tried to make ends meet for as long as they could muster but after several months of going to bed hungry and being turned away for any charity, the girls all hit the streets and her brother left and never was seen again.

Isibil is fortune for the little she has now as she could have been an ugly hag with no luck making it at the whore houses, but she was blessed with her mother's good looks. Isibil stopped to look at her reflection in the windowpane beside her as she finished her meal as that thought occurred to her. Soon Isibil would need to make another life for herself outside of this brothel. She'd gotten more wrinkles in the past few years than before, and she had to dye her hair to hide the impending grey. She sighed and turned from her reflection then, not permitting herself to feel sorry for herself.

Isibil was good with the girls. They trusted her advice on the men that would come in and she would give them instruction in the art of pleasing a man. Isibil's one rule to the girls is having a regular customer is okay and even encouraged in certain instances but never allow the intimacy to become romantic. You give them their attention, give them pleasure, take their coin then smile and send them on their way.

There were times when she would have to comfort one of the new girls whose unlucky circumstances had forced her to live this life. Those were the hardest times for her because she remembered her first time. The girls would cry before and even sometimes during the act which would have the men come to her ranting and raving about a "blubbering female." Isibil was always good with the customers though and she would give them a free pass on any girl they choose. The complaining would stop after that. Isibil then thought of the newest of the girls, Mary, who only arrived less than a fortnight ago. Mary came from an impoverished family with little to offer any potential husband for the girl. It didn't help the girl wasn't exceptionally pleasant to look at compared to the other girls her age. Her parents had only her and her seven-year-old brother but even with less mouths to feed they were barely scraping by. Mary wandered into the whore house one day looking like a lost sheep and Isibil as well as the other girls took pity on her. The girls all took care of each other, and they did the same with Mary during her first time. Thankfully the girl wasn't a virgin and had told Isibil she had a romantic affair with a young boy she knew who lived a few houses over from her.

After a few customers during her first few days at the brothel, Mary was handling herself quite well. That was until last night. As Isibil was going down to fetch the two boys' more ale (as they grew weary after only twenty minutes), she saw Mary going up to the rooms with the brooding, dark figure of the Hound on her heals. At that Isibil stopped to watch as they climbed the stairs and thought to interject then thought better of it. When the Hound chose his woman there wouldn't be anything anyone could do about that. Isibil was instinctively worried for the girl but then a smile grew on her face knowing what was to come for her. The women of the brothel never spoke of their times with the Hound. No positive or negative words were passed amongst the women even though the same couldn't be said for every man who took their pleasure. It was like an unspoken rule between the girls to not discuss what occurred with the Hound.

Sandor Clegane was sinister and brooding and uglier than any man who had ever passed the threshold of the brothel but what was not discussed is the overwhelming pleasure the Hound would give while taking his pleasure. Isibil knew this from personal experience in her dealings with the Hound. The last time she had him was two months past. Each time she dreaded the event when he chose her even knowing what was to come but each time, she would surprise herself in her devilish enjoyment of his cock fucking her. The man was large in stature and that extends through every extremity on his body. He was built like a god and his cock was bigger and meatier than any man who'd she'd ever serviced. Just like his nature, he was rough, demanding, aggressive and overall thorough with sex. Many women walked out with a dazed, unworldly look upon their face each time. The same was for Mary just last night when Isibil saw her coming down the stairs. She had a disheveled appearance, and her cheeks were flushed as she descended the stairs.

Isibil had given a sly smile at that and then turned to Mary as she went to pass her, "Mary, I saw that the Hound required your services this evening?"

Mary glanced uneasily at the woman and then remarked, "Uh… well yes. He had his pleasure, paid me the price then left."

Mary moved to leave but Isibil stopped her by placing her hand on her forearm. "Why, Mary, you look bewildered. The man didn't hurt you, did he? I know he's a large, boorish type of man but if he mistreated you in any way, you must tell me now."

Mary then huffed in exasperation and exclaimed, "He didn't abuse me if that's what you're asking Isibil but he's a brute of a man and I hope to never service him again."

With that Mary scurried away and Isibil suppressed the humorous smile on her face with her hand. Nay, the girls didn't speak of it to not be shamed in admitting desiring the ugly Hound but each who have been serviced by him knew the truth of it.

Thinking on the night before with a smile upon her face, Isibil rose to deposit her dish and instruct the girls on their chores before tonight's services when suddenly, Isibil heard shouting outside the doors and looking out the window saw a horde of people scurrying about outside. Perplexed, Isibil went to the door and opened it to see what the fuss was all about. She then saw people jogging, some running, presumably to their homes with petrified expressions on their faces. There was one woman carrying a child in one arm and a bag in another with a man close to her heels as she passed by the brothel.

Down the walkway Isibil heard a young boy screeching at the top of his lungs the most terrifying declaration she had heard in many years: "The King is dead! The King is dead! The mob murdered the King! The Seven help us, the King is dead!"

With a jolt and a quickness she gained through the adrenaline pumping through her body, she turned and sprinted up the stairs to warn the girls. They must all flee King's Landing at once.

Sandor POV from continuation of Chapter 2

Once Phineas Harris' head fell from his neck, it spurred an instant response from the oversized crowd. Suddenly men and women from all directions began advancing to the platform housing the King and all his loyal subjects. Sandor instinctively grabbed Joffrey around his waist and pressed him firmly to his left side with his sword already drawn in his right hand. It was then that a man hurtled through the guards and stormed at Joffrey with a raised stick of some kind in his hand. Sandor was able to dispose of him rather quickly with the swing of his sword but then he saw two more coming in the man's place almost the second his sword punctured the man's body. As he cut them down as well, he saw four more and before Sandor knew it the platform was being swarmed by an expansion of people. Sandor pulled Joffrey to the back of the platform and down the steps that would lead them back to the Keep, but the mob was quick on his heels.

Just as he had taken his first step on the ground and headed to his left back to the safety of the Keep, five men appeared blocking his path. Sandor began slashing and thrashing all of them to his front and then suddenly to his right with Joffrey still glued to his side. Sandor got a glimpse at the boy king's face, and he almost laughed then at the terrified, helpless look on his perfect little face while trying to cut down men around him. Sandor glanced around then and saw the other guards doing the same, but some were being overpowered by five or more men. He was getting violently roused at the stupid lot around him for not encircling the King from the beginning. Then he looked around some more after cutting a man's arm off and saw the entire entourage had been surrounded by the mob. Sandor saw Meryn Trant then from a distance being hoisted up in the air in front of the platform then deposited on the ground as the mob delivered blow after blow to his face and body. The last view he got of Meryn was him being dragged lifeless across the mob with them continuing to beat his battered body. Sandor couldn't say he wasn't thrilled with the image. To his right he saw Cersei being pulled this way and that by her golden hair as five women and a man began giving merciless blows to her body.

It was then a quake of fear when through Sandor. While continuing to blissfully kill the roaches around him, he scanned the crowd for her red hair. She was undetectable amongst all the people. She can't be dead. If there are any Gods at all, they wouldn't allow an innocent like Sansa Stark be killed and likely raped like this. Sandor then chastised himself for thinking so greenly. A hundred thoughts were flooding his mind now, and he was becoming disheveled. Thoughts of the Little Bird always softened his brain. It was then that he saw it: Fire. A man had ignited the platform and once it caught, the flames began reaching for the sky. A triumphant roar was expressed by the group. Then to his left out the corner of his eye he saw another man light one of the tents used during the farmer's markets. No. Not this. Then to Sandor's utter horror a man was running right towards him with a raised torch bursting with flames and it was Sandor's undoing. As his pulse began to race rapidly and his breathing hitched in his throat, he instinctively let loose of the boy king's collar and began making his decent to his right. Get away from the flames! his mind was screaming at him. Slashing through more people as he made his way towards an archway outside of the Keep, Sandor abruptly remembered himself. He scanned the crowd for Joffrey but all he could see where the members of the court being viciously attacked by throngs of commoners. Cercei's body lay lifeless on the ground and other King's Guards were sprawled this way and that as he looked at the scene before him. Suddenly, he saw Joffrey running away from the men chasing him, but before Sandor could even react Joffrey ran right into a man who put a blade in his gut. Joffrey's high-pitched scream could be heard even where Sandor stood and over the chaos around him. Good riddance.

Sandor didn't stick around to watch the scene any further. He had but one mission: find the Little Bird. She was likely dead, but he had to try to find her and get her body back to the Keep. No! She cannot be dead. You cannot fail her again, dog!

As he frantically searched the crowd, he stopped to think where he saw her last. She had just been to his left just off the platform with the ladies. If he could get there and spot even one of the ladies, then maybe he had a chance of finding her. With that thought, the Hound descended on those in his path with his ruthless, merciless attack. At first, they would try attacking and stopping him but after cutting a man from cock to throat and severing a woman's head with the same stroke of his sword, they began to dissipate from his general direction. By the time he made it to where he hoped she might be he was covered in blood, sweat and gore. He scanned the crowd as he went, and his stomach dropped when he saw one of the ladies with blonde locks on the ground face-down with her skirts pulled to her waist. No! You won't find her like this. She's a wolf. She can survive.

Just as he was beginning to descend upon those around him again with impending doom lurking in the back of his mind, a hand wrapped around his ankle from below. He looked down to see one of the ladies on her back with blood projecting from her abdomen and her face swelling from the beatings. She was saying something to him that he couldn't hear with the madness around him. Reluctantly, he went down to one knee to hear her, "S…San…Sansa, Sansa." Sandor's eyes bulged at the woman as she lifted her finger to point in the direction just to Sandor's left.

"Where is she?" He asked stupidly. She's pointing your path, you ravenous dog.

"San…Sansa. She…she ran. Help her."

With that glimmer of hope, Sandor pushed through the mob in the direction the woman was pointing and scanned the crowd frantically. As he was getting to the end of the line of mobsters, he was getting increasingly disheartened and terrified when he saw a man's back running into an alleyway just two yards away. There.

Sandor took off with a sprint. As he approached the alleyway, he could hear a commotion coming from within and then screams and shouts. Sandor's blood was high. As ran down the alley he could see from the distance there were two men jostling and pursuing one lady who seemed to be putting up a decent fight and another was already on the floor with one man between her legs. As he descended on the group, the man between the woman's legs was the first to die. He stabbed him through with his sword then thrust up until his sword had torn through his shoulder. Sandor looked down at the woman who had chestnut brown hair and her eyes were wide open with no light life in their depths. Sick bastard.

Sandor then turned to the two remaining men who stared at the scene of the slayed man with horror and sliced one through almost severing him in half. The other one started to make a run for it but Sandor was too quick and took his head. Once the deed was done, he turned and couldn't help himself but give an audible sigh of relief. The Little Bird was staring at the body he'd just maimed with bulged eyes and tears streaking down her face. Then she abruptly let herself fall to her butt on the ground never taking her eyes off the man.

Sandor wiped the blood off his sword on the nearest corpse then cautiously approached the Little Bird. If she didn't have a reason to fear you before, that show sure did it for you, Dog.

While sheathing his sword he said to her, "It's alright now, Little Bird. I'm here. You're safe now."

His words must have sparked something in the girl as in the next moment she snapped her eyes directly at his face then after only a moment strung to her feet and flung herself to his chest. Sandor was too shocked to react other than pat her head with his giant paw, saying, "There, there. All is well now."

She was sobbing like a newborn babe and when she spoke, it was muffled by her face pressed into his chest, "Oh, I thought I was done for. When the mob swarmed the King, I thought we would all die!" She pulled her face back then and with her round, beautifully wet eyes looking directly in his eyes. "We were all turned to run when they advanced on us. One man grabbed one of us and killed her instantly as others were pulling girls one way and then the other. We tried to fight and kick but when I saw the knight protecting us fall, I ran."

"That's good Little Bird. You wouldn't have made it out there in that chaos." Sandor pried her arms from around him then. "We have to get out of her now Little Bird. The city isn't safe with that riot out there. They've killed Cersei and her blonde-handed brat."

He grabbed her arm then and turned to pull her down alley. She placed her hand on his to stop him and he couldn't help the tingle that went up his arm when she touched him. "Wait, Joffrey and Cersei are dead?"

"Aye Little Bird. Saw it with my own eyes." She brought a hand up to her mouth and seemed to be having some inner battle with herself. She let out a sob then and tears pierced her eyes. These were tears of sorrow though. Sandor could see the relief there. She seemed to remember he was standing there watching her and attempted to mask her expression.

"No use hiding your glee from me, girl. I know you're glad they're dead." She started to reject but he cut her off, "We're all the better for it. The yellow-haired demon was always demented and that mother of his wasn't much better. I'm glad to have seen their demise."

Sansa seemed perplexed by his declaration. Sandor turned fully to her then and placed his hands on her upper arms to get her to look at him as he hunched down to her level.

"Little Bird, we must go now. It's no longer safe for you in the city. Do you understand? It may no longer be safe for anyone now that the King his dead. Half the damn King's Guard was slaughtered out there. Soon this entire city will be in chaos until what's left of the guards can put order back. Now that the boy king is dead, I have no desire to stay in this godsdamn shithole."

She looked terrified for only a moment as she looked in his eyes and then there was a determination there as she said to him with finality, "You'll keep me safe."

Sandor swallowed and felt a heat in his chest he couldn't define as he gave a reply with just as much finality, "No one will hurt you again, or I'll kill them."

With that he turned and pulled the Little Bird along to make their escape.