Sandor & Arya

"Not you again?!"

"I am not anywhere near your things!"

"I can see you. That is bad enough."

"I know who you are; you are the Hound. I know your name too, it is Sandor Clegane."

"Hmmph. So it is. Don't wear it out."

"Why do you have to be such a grouch? Everyone says that you are the vilest person in King Robert's household. You don't have any friends and all you do is practice or drink."

"Is that what they say? Well, they are right. Except that I am not drinking here – much. I have to keep my wits about me with the Northerners. Rebels the lot of you."

"That is not true!"

"So it wasn't Lord Eddard who raised his banners against his lawful king and rode all the way to King's Landing to get rid of the mad king?"

"Well, it was him, but he had to do it. Besides, so did King Robert and Lord Tywin. You are a Lannister man; are you a rebel too?"

"I don't care enough of the highborns quarrels to rebel. I do what Lord Tywin tells me…wait, why am I arguing with a stupid girl? Run away and leave me alone."

"I am not stupid. And I can be here if I want."


"Fine, fine, I am leaving – let go of my arm! Ouch!"


Sansa

"The ornament of the court, that you shall be, my lady!"

"The beautiful blossom of the North, so fresh and bright among the faded flowers of the South!"

Sansa knew that the knights paying her those honeyed compliments were only polite, but it didn't diminish her enjoyment of hearing them. At home she had always been considered as a child, but these young men of the court saw in her a young woman, and a beautiful one, even. The attention she received went straight into her head like a sweet summer wine she had sometimes tasted in the celebrations and she let herself get intoxicated by it.

She smiled at the youths but only demurely, as a lady should – especially a lady who was betrothed to another. Sometimes Sansa still had to pinch herself to make sure that it was not a dream – but angry red marks on her arm told her that it wasn't. I am betrothed to a prince and one day I will be a queen. We will have little princes and princesses and we will be so happy together…

She swirled around on her spot turning her attention back to Joffrey, whom she had mostly come to see. Before she could catch his attention a shadow fell on her. The Hound.

Sansa's mood darkened immediately. What kind of a name was that for a knight anyway? Not that he even was a real knight, she had heard. Of course Joffrey needed to be protected, but couldn't the task had been given to a more worthy warrior?

There he was, standing between her and Joffrey and looking at her with his usual intensity. A slight sneer and piercing eyes that missed nothing when he let his gaze travel down her body, making Sansa squirm. No honeyed words from this one - a brute he was, if the stories she had heard were anything to go by. Maidens whispered about him in hushed tones and grown men shook their heads when talk turned to the prince's sworn shield. He didn't even look the part, besides his size. His armour was dented and his studded jerkin shabby – surely the court could dress him more appropriately?

Sansa felt a stab of anger at the man who was a complete opposite to what she thought he should be; a gallant noble knight, handsomely attired and ready to lay down his life in protection of his charge. Besides, shouldn't he show more deference to her now that she was Joffrey's betrothed? Sansa had an uncomfortable feeling that unlike other men who gazed at her with appreciation this man was looking down his nose at her. At her! How did he dare?!

"Isn't it too cold for flowers in here?" he rasped. "I hear they grow only in glass houses, and when you take one out it soon wilts and dies."

"Our glass houses are famous for our blue roses, which are rarest of all flowers. Not that I would compare myself to one though; you must know it was just a figure of speech, good ser."

"I am no ser. And you are not a blue rose; that I can see. And yet you will as surely suffer if uprooted from your safe soil."

"I am sure I don't know what you mean. Now if you please excuse me, I need to talk with my betrothed." Sansa elbowed past that horrible man who chuckled a mirthless laugh before stepping aside.

Anger that was quite out of proportion with the incident didn't leave Sansa for a long time. That horrible man!