Readily Sandor stripped off his clothing, eying Sansa hungrily as he did so. Amused, Sansa drank in his muscular physique toned from years of training and battle, blushing all the while. Though the sight was no longer new to her, still she occasionally felt nervous and shy with her fierce, daunting husband. Not unlike his sigil, Sandor was ferocious and menacing with others; yet with her the man was tender, careful, and almost reverent.

Sandor was so much more than people realized, and Sansa wished there was some way to make her father aware of the tamer side of her husband. The meeting could hardly have gone worse in her view, yet for all that her father and Sandor said to each other in the exchange, Sansa still held on to hope that they could at least come to a mutual respect one day. As for what Robb would do, Sansa could not guess; as king he would be eager to establish his authority over the former Lannister sworn shield. Sandor could hardly be counted on to put up with such nonsense.

Resolutely she pushed the negative thoughts out of her mind as she watched him undress. When he was as naked as his nameday, Sandor moved beside her and gently lifted her out of her gown and shift. "Gods but I've missed this," he breathed against her neck.

"As have I, dearest." Turning, Sansa wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. "Make love to me, husband," she whispered into his ear as he kissed along her collarbone.

"With pleasure, wife," Sandor growled against her skin, kissing his way down to her belly. Hungrily he nibbled at the soft flesh on her inner thighs before tearing the ribbons of her smallclothes loose with his teeth.

"Oh!" Sansa gasped loudly at the feel of his hot tongue licking the length of her slit. "Sandor, we haven't bathed yet…I, oh…" her words quickly dissolved into moans, leading Sandor to laugh devilishly to her.

"Bugger that, I want a taste of my sweet wife." After settling between her thighs, Sandor set about licking and suckling her most intimate places with such fervency Sansa felt she was indeed being devoured by a ravenous dog. Fisting the sheets beneath her, Sansa moaned loudly, for the intense pleasure he brought to her chased all reasonable thought from her mind, and Sansa's whole world soon centered solely on the feel of her beloved husband.


After the Stark small council assembled, Robb stood and motioned for quiet in the hall. "As you know, Sandor Clegane has returned my sisters to us. In addition, he has brought one of King Robert's bastard sons, a young man named Gendry Waters. We must decide the best course of action and determine his intentions."

"His intentions are clear enough. He got your sister as wife, securing himself safe passage north," Roose Bolton called out. "You must annul it at once, my king, and wed her to another, more worthy man."

"Who will have her after the Hound?"

"I would respectfully ask that you consider Ramsay."

"No," Ned shook his head. "I will never consent to it. She is married lawfully in the sight of the gods and men."

Robb slowly nodded. "As you wish, Father. What of the so-called Baratheon? Clegane claims he is the rightful heir and that puts us in a perilous position."

"So says the Hound," Dacey Mormont stood up. "His word is worthless here. How do we know this boy is in fact the king's son? He could have dragged any bastard north with him if only to buy himself some time with you, my lord."

"Robert and I fostered with Jon Arryn as young men, you'll recall. I heard it on good authority in King's Landing and already met the boy. Mark my words, young Gendry is a Baratheon for true; he looks exactly like Robert at his age," Ned confirmed.

"That may be true, but there is no way we can trust the Hound, I say," the Greatjon growled. "He's served the buggering kingslayer's family for far too long. His loyalty is legendary, second only to his brutality in battle. It is unlikely that Clegane would give up a prestigious alliance with the Iron throne for a young highborn girl, if you'll forgive my saying so, Your Grace."

"I agree, Lord Umber, and yet I cannot ignore that it is an extraordinary fete Clegane has accomplished." Robb turned to Ned. "What say you, Father?"

"There could hardly be a weaker motive for the man. He cares nothing for titles or prestige as you call it. Sandor is nothing like Gregor, of that I am certain."

"But Father, you saw him kill Arya's friend."

"I saw him ride the butcher's boy down, aye, but I cannot deny that the man holds to his own code of honor-such as it is," Ned stiffened his lip. "What he did was in service to the Lannisters; Clegane is not known for cruelty outside of duty. And who of us has not done things in service to our realm of which we are not proud?"

A general murmur went up from amongst the assembly.

"It seems Arya has forgiven the Hound, oddly enough," Robb looked at Ned curiously. "What do you make of that?"

"Arya is young; she's probably tolerating him because he saved her friend."

"How do we know that bringing Sansa and Arya here is not just part of an elaborate ruse to free Jaime Lannister?"

"Sending Joffrey's sworn shield here to free the kingslayer while wedded and bedded to my daughter is a bit extreme even for the Lannisters."

The Blackfish huffed, "Aye but not unlike the Imp, I'll wager."

"We need to speak with Clegane without the girls," Ned stated firmly. "Then we'll see if we can discern his true motive. Mayhap bring in Jaime Lannister as well. I'll go fetch him at once."

"Better take your wife along, my lord," the Blackfish laughed knowingly. "Might need her to smooth the way with your daughters."

"Aye," Ned nodded gravely. "War was easier than daughters."


Sandor gasped for air, the man struggling to calm himself. "You are too beautiful, wife, I won't last like this." Suddenly Sandor rolled over on his back, carrying Sansa with him. "Get on top of me, Sansa. I want to watch you ride my cock."

Though she was a bit scandalized, Sansa wanted to gratify him, for he had patiently waited for their intimacy during the time traveling with Arya. She flushed deep red but nevertheless enthusiastically obliged him by gingerly positioning herself over his hips and slowly sheathing his manhood deep inside her, whimpering softly as she did so. "Oh, Sandor, I have so longer for this," she gasped out.

"Fuck," he panted beneath her, running his hands over her breasts and arching his hips to meet her cadence. At first Sansa was a bit unsure in her movements; Sandor loved it nonetheless and gripped her soft thighs tightly as she tentatively rolled her hips against his manhood

"Did you hear something?" Sansa whispered, suddenly stilling and cocking her head toward the solar.

"What? No, lass, you're just nervous about fucking in your family's seat is all," Sandor paused and then urged her to keep moving with his hands. "Feeling wicked, are you?"

"No…well, maybe a little bit," she moaned out, silencing him with a deep roll of her hips.

"Whatever it is can wait." Languidly Sandor and Sansa established a rhythm, their bodies moving together as one, and the couple's love cries soon filled the room. "That's it, little bird, take your pleasure. Bloody hells but you move like a goddess."

It did not take long for Sansa to reach her peak, the young woman throwing her head back and moaning out his name at the top of her voice in the most unladylike of laments. Giggling self-consciously, Sansa collapsed on top of her husband, snuggling down in his arms. Sandor hungrily kissed her, then rolled her over on her back and pumped deep inside of her several more times before crying out his own release.


"Ned, can this not wait?" Catelyn hissed in his ear as the sound of Sansa and Sandor's voices grew louder in the hallway. "They were on the road for a moon's turn with Arya and this is the first opportunity they have had to be alone. Let them have their privacy."

"How can you expect me to ignore the sound of my daughter's voice in distress?" Ned stared at her incredulously. "Cat, perhaps they are arguing."

A decidedly female voice echoed softly from the room. "Dearest, does that sound like arguing to you?"

"You do not think…they would not…it isn't even dark outside yet!"

Catelyn raised her brow at him. "Did that ever stop us?"

Sputtering, Ned shook his head. "I…we…Cat, that was war, it was a different time-"

"Yes, it was a different time. But we are at war now, husband, and they are newly wed and likely will take every opportunity to enjoy each other just as you and I did."

"Catelyn Stark, for shame that you should speak of our daughter so! She is a lady!"

Soon the unmistakable sounds of love cries reached the hallway, followed by laughter and silence.

"Yes, she is, Ned," she nuzzled into his neck. "But lady or not, this is to be expected. You should be happy your daughter is enjoying her wedded life. Now please, be discreet!"

Furious, Ned glared at Catelyn as he pounded on the solar door. "Sansa! Clegane! Open up at once!"

Abruptly the couple was pulled from their blissful state of slumber. "What in Seven hells do you want?" Sandor snarled out, pulling Sansa closer to him. "The bloody Others had better be invading the castle!"

"He will not go until we speak to him," she whispered in his ear. "Father, just a moment please," Sansa calmly called out while disentangling herself from her disgruntled husband's embrace.

"Bloody convenient timing that one has." Sandor muttered under his breath as he climbed out of bed and helped Sansa into a robe. Slipping on his leather breeches, Sandor only bothered to fasten the lower lacings, leaving the top gaping open in hopes of further offending Ned for interrupting them.

Jerking open the door, Sandor rested his arms on the doorframe and glowered at Ned. "What do you want? Is this how dinner is announced around here? Or is there a damned fire?"

Sandor loomed large in the entryway, his bare, battled hardened chest rippling as he pushed himself off the doorway. Unable to resist, Catelyn allowed her gaze to travel over his heavily muscled chest and arms, down to his deeply carved abdominals that trailed a thick line of hair from his groin down to his lacings.

Noticing he was not wearing smallclothes, Lady Catelyn gasped softly and raised her hand to her throat. Her reaction did not escape Ned; gritting his teeth, he glared at her before sharply replying, "Clegane, there is a most important matter that must be addressed at once. First, however, Lady Catelyn and I insist on seeing Sansa."

At the sound of her name, Sansa ducked underneath Sandor's arm, her lovely face flushed and her bright red curls in disarray, her appearance leaving no question as to the source of the sounds. Carefully she tucked her robe close to her, though Catelyn immediately noticed she was wearing nothing underneath it.

"Father, Mother; this is most unexpected. We thought you would be in council with Robb for the duration of the evening. I trust it is nothing serious?"

Just then Arya ran up with Gendry hot on her heels. "Arya, wait," he shouted, then immediately slowed to a stop when he saw the family in the hall.

"What's going on with you guys? We heard shouting," Arya mumbled in between bites of bread. Glancing in between Ned and Sandor, she started to laugh. "Uh, oh, looks like Father doesn't quite like his new goodson after all."

"Arya, be silent this instant!" Lady Catelyn whispered in her ear.

"Oh, gross!" Arya pointed at Sandor's breeches. "What the hell, Hound? Could you at least put on some clothes? Some of us are trying to eat!"

"Bugger off, wolf girl, I'll wear whatever the fuck I want in my own chambers."

Ned and Catelyn were incensed. "Arya, you will not-" Shrugging, Arya just laughed it off. "It is alright, Mother and Father; Sandor and I like to tease each other like this. So what's the meeting for, anyway? Must be important since you are all standing out in the hallway with Sansa in her underclothes."

"No, my dear it is only that your father needs speak with Sandor at once." Catelyn smiled nervously at Arya while casting a final appreciative glance over Sandor's physique as she did so.

"Aye, I'll bet he does, at that," Sandor sneered, leaning down closer to Ned.

"Whatever do you mean?" Sansa affected an innocent tone, regretting it instantly when Sandor interrupted her with a harsh laugh.

"I'll tell you exactly what your mother means, little bird: your honorable Father decided to knock on the door when he heard us loudly fuck-"

Arya hooted loudly as Sansa swiftly interrupted him by covering his mouth in a long kiss.

"Nice save, Sis," Arya crowed before Gendry placed his hand over her mouth.

"Lord Stark, allow me to escort Lady Arya back to her room."

Ned waved his hand dismissively as Gendry fairly carried Arya off, her laughter echoing through the hallway. Blushingly Sansa ignored her gaping parents and finally she pulled away from Sandor, gently resting her hand on his chest. "Dearest, it is quite chilly. Would you please go stoke the fire while I speak to my parents in private? I will only be a moment."

Grinning wickedly, Sandor nodded and disappeared inside the solar. Once he was out of sight, Sansa quietly said, "Sandor and I will meet you in the solar of your rooms in a quarter hour hence."

Catelyn reached for her daughter's hand. "Sansa, please forgive the intrusion, we-"

"Mother, please forgive me, but I would prefer that we will discuss it then." With that Sansa closed the door behind her.