Sansa
The Hound was silent as the grave. Even as she knelt down to take a sip of water she could feel his eyes on her, but he did not say a word. Most of the day he had ignored her, not even looking at her or glancing down at the top of her head, but right now his gaze was so hot she could feel it on her back. She did not know what the look held exactly. She thought that if she looked back to meet his eyes she might be able to guess, but she was too frightened. She had narrowed it down to two possibilities though; lust or anger. Maybe both, she thought as she sipped the cool river water from the bowl she had made with her palms.
He had nearly threatened rape on her when she refused to be his whore, but after, when she told him he would not hurt her he had fallen silent, saying absolutely nothing. It unsettled her, but it also calmed her in some ways. She was right. As long as she had the strength of will to say no he would not persist. It was when her strength faltered, and she melted into warm putty in his large hands, that she was in real danger. That had been proven last night. God forbid he was to get her pregnant. What would her mother and brother do with her then? She was angry with him as well. When he had come to her and offered to take her with him she had not thought it was because he wanted her ransom. She thought it was because he cared. It helped ease the sting she was feeling.
Though he allowed her to sit side saddle now, because they were not in as much of a hurry as they had been before, she was still having difficulty. Her thighs ached, her bottom stung, and now she had to wrap one of her arms around his middle to keep her balance. If he could feel the side of her breasts occasionally press against his side, he gave no hint of it, but every time it happened she had to look down to hide her blush.
When she spotted the stream she asked if they could stop for a drink, but he only grunted as he jumped down. She knelt beside him, and was about to take a drink when he spit into the river and grabbed her arm. He pulled her back to her feet and lifted her onto the horse.
"What is it?" she had asked but he said nothing. She scowled at him but did not try to get him to speak again. About half way up the stream she saw the littered bodies and thought she was going to throw up.
"I thought I tasted death," he grumbled to himself. It was all he said all day. Once they were safely up stream he stopped the horse again, but she refused to drink the water. The Hound rolled his eyes and went to have a drink. After watching him for a few moments she hopped down from the horse and moved beside him. He moved away before her and began waiting at the horse. That was when she felt the stare start.
He wants me to hurry up, but he is too proud to talk to me, Sansa thought. She decided she would make him wait. It was perhaps childish, and not at all courteous, but she felt better all the same when she stood and slowly smoothed out her dress. She avoided his eyes as he moved back to his horse, afraid of what she would find there. She tried to swing herself up on the horse without his help, but the horse was too large, and she fell backwards. She let out a little cry, but landed in strong arms and was kept from falling to the ground. He pushed her up onto the saddle wordlessly and hopped up behind her. His arms flexed around her as he gripped the reigns.
Sansa fell in and out of sleep as they road, not because she was very tired as much as she was bored. The last time her eyes fluttered open they were at a small inn. It was still light out, but the Hound rode toward it. She felt her heart leap when he jumped down and tied the reigns to a post.
"Stay right here," he grunted and walked into the inn. She looked around her nervously, feeling suddenly vulnerable without the Hound close. The Hound came back only a moment later but Sansa let out a sigh of relief. She did not like the way the stable boy was leering at her, and a few travelers were leaning up against the stable walls, glancing over at her as they spoke. She hopped down into his arms. She could not help but smile at the prospect of a hot meal and a real bed. The Hound looked at her for only a moment before looking away, his face made of stone. She stayed close to him as he untied the reigns and led the horse over to the stable. Sansa tried to hide behind him as he paid the stable boy, but the young man still got his eyes on her body, a devious twinkle in his eyes. She followed the Hound into the stalls rather than stay with the boy.
"Shh," the Hound said softly to the horse as he put him inside. He unsaddled him and brushed his coat gently. "I'll be back."
"I can do that, ser," the stable boy said. "It's my job."
He gave Sansa a stupid smile and she stepped toward the Hound.
"He'll bite your face off, boy," the Hound rasped. "Now raise your fucking eyes."
The boy's eyes left Sansa's chest and went to the Hound's face.
"Sorry ser, I didn't mean nothing by it," he hurried out.
"You best not," he growled and stepped away from his horse with one last caress. He walked up to the boy, towering over him, and ordered Sansa to step out of the stall. He followed her out right after, saying nothing to the stable boy.
"Stay away from that one," he told her when they left the stable.
"I will," Sansa promised and glanced back at the young man. He was smiling at her again. He was not unattractive, he had thick blond hair and deep brown eyes, but there was something in his smile that made her feel uncomfortable. She looked away from him when he winked. Sansa hurried her steps to keep up with the Hound's.
"Aegar!" the tavern owner said when the Hound walked in. "I was going to offer you some of my girls but I see you already got one."
"She's not my whore," he replied coldly and Sansa felt oddly guilty. It made her angry and she frowned at the back of his head.
"Oh! Wonderful! Well after you eat I will send one up for you. Only a few silvers. You'll know why when you see her," he grinned stupidly and looked at Sansa. "Two rooms then?"
"One room and no whores," he snapped angrily.
He pointed wordlessly and Sansa took a seat by the fire. A hot but watery stew was brought to them with a stale loaf of bread and wine for the Hound. He took a gulp and ripped the bread in half.
"Are you still angry with me?"
"I'm not angry," the Hound said and held the bread in the soup.
"You haven't spoken to me at all," she said and looked for a knife to cut her bread.
"I've had nothing to say," he replied.
"You made it sound like you were rescuing me when you took me from King's Landing, not stealing me," Sansa said, her mouth dry and the taste bitter. Having found no knife to cut the bread with she tried to daintily pull a few pieces off and bight into it. It was too hard to bite through and so she followed the Hound's actions and dipped it into the soup. It was easier to eat after that.
"What would you have me do? Take no money?" he asked brusquely and took another swig of wine.
"No… I thought… I thought you were changing sides," Sansa told him. He barked out a laugh.
"Go from being Joffrey's dog to your brother's? If he would even have me, which he would not. I'm my own dog now," he said.
"So you will go away afterward?" she asked him. He shot her a cold smile.
"So ready to be rid of me?"
"No!" she cried out a little too quickly and a little too fast.
"Your brother won't have me, little bird. Once I return you we will go our separate ways," he told her more gently.
"What if I make him? You could be my guard," she suggested. He laughed again, loudly. She did not know if it was because what she said was so ridiculous, or if it was the amount of wine he was drinking, or both.
"You think he'd let me guard you without gelding me?"
"But he doesn't even know –"
"He doesn't have to know I've fucked you to know I want to, little bird," he said. "Any man would be able to see it in my eyes."
She blushed and looked down at the stew. She could hear the wine move in the flagon as he took another swig.
"I won't do it anymore," she told him again. "You should just buy one of the whores."
She didn't want him stumbling into her bed tonight drunk. She did not trust herself to give in, and she did not trust him to have enough control to stop. Still, she did not quite like the idea of him using a whore. It put an odd taste in her mouth and a pit in her stomach.
"With that stable boy about? If I got another room he'd be in yours in half a heartbeat," he snarled. "If I can't fuck you little bird, neither can he."
"Ser? Joffrey wouldn't have been able to tell… do you think… do you think that whoever I am sent to marry will be able to tell?" she asked him quietly, as if her future husband was in the tavern and might hear. The Hound didn't seem to like the question and took another swig.
"Most men think if its tight it's virgin," he shook his head. "Others are smarter. Others have their brides examined."
Sansa felt her face burn red. When she looked up he was holding the wine flagon out to her. She took it hesitantly and brought it to her lips. She grimaced at the taste. Never had she ever had wine so thick and so strong. The Hound laughed at her face. He took the flagon back and drained it, ordering another be brought to him with cups this time.
"Do not worry little bird," he told her as he poured her a cup of wine. "You will dazzle your husband with your red hair and blue eyes."
She took a tiny sip from the wine. She jumped when the door swung open and there was a shout for the innkeeper. Sansa looked to her left and her eyes grew wide, her stomach fell to her toes, and she saw big, black spots in her eyes. The entire inn had gone quiet as the man entered, gazing around the room. Sansa hardly knew what he looked like. All she could see was the bright, gold cloak that hung from his shoulders.
"There you are dog," the gold cloak said when his eyes landed on the Hound's burnt face. The gold cloak unsheathed his sword. Sansa's eyes widened when the Hound took one last swig of wine, wiped his mouth, and stood.
"Ser Erynn," the Hound laughed. "They sent you after me… alone?"
"We were looking for her," the gold cloak said. "The Queen thought the disappearances unrelated. Everyone thought you dead."
"The queen's a bloody fool then," the Hound answered.
"I am sure she would like to hear that before your execution," he snapped and looked at Sansa. "If you come with me now girl, I will support a claim that you were kidnapped by the dog. I am sure this animal has violated you in some way."
"No way she didn't like," the Hound said. Sansa was tempted to go with the Gold cloak. If they thought that she had been kidnapped she could return with no consequences. The queen and Joffrey would forgive her certainly. But the thought that Joffrey had won, that he was still the King on the Iron Throne turned her stomach.
She looked toward the Hound. Even the Hound was more gallant than Joffrey, in his own way. She did not want to leave him. Not yet. Not until she could see her mother and brothers again. She could only shake her head at the gold cloak though. She could not find her words.
"The little bird likes me better it seems," The Hound rasped and drew his sword from his back. Sansa watched in horror as the drunk Hound moved toward the terrified gold cloak. All around her there was silence and for the first time since leaving King's Landing, she began to pray.
()
A/N: Not one of my bests, but it's decent I think. I had trouble writing this chapter so please be kind.
I hope you enjoyed it and thank you so much for reviewing! I know I said I would reply to my reviews, and so far I have not, but this time I mean it for real. I want to reply to my reviews. So if you were wondering why I didn't it was basically a mixture of laziness and forgetfulness.