Congratulations to Aliena Wyvern for winning the first spot in my san/san one-shot competition. Two spots left! If you'd like to win your own original one-shot fic include the phrase "Fuck the king" with your comment. Happy reading!
Sandor woke before the morning light made it's presence known to the world. He yawned as a brown bear would and stood. He was pleased to notice his head didn't have the same heavy feeling it usually did when he had too much wine, which was often. He felt groggy though. After he left his position at the bird's door, there were only two hours left of resting time before he had to be up and by Joffrey's side.
He stretched and splashed water on his face and hair. He normally shook the water out like a dog, but today he finger combed it. Taking care in parting it on the left side of his head, so it covered his burns. He wasn't embarrassed by his twisted scars. He learned he had to live with them at the young age of six. In fact he took pride in the way people cowered at the very sight of him. It kept unwanted conversation away, and helped in keeping his stoic expression. No one could read his face, which was vital in King's Landing.
He didn't care how the whores he'd been with failed to hide their repulsion. Why would he care about his looks in front of women who had no self respect. They were getting their coin, and he his release and that was all that mattered.
iSo why does is it so bothersome when she looks at me?/i He thought of the sad Northern girl, how uncomfortable she made him feel when he felt her eyes upon his face. The first time they met she could barely look at him. iGood,/i he thought then, ilet her be afraid instead of living in her world of knights and fair maidens. Give her a taste of what the world outside her books is like./i But as time went on, her looks turned from fear, to curiosity, to something else, Sandor cold not put his finger on. Mayhaps that's why it bothered him so. He knew how to deal with fear, but not much else.
He put his metal chest piece over his head, the weight on his shoulders felt like it always belonged there. He then started with the shoulder pieces, those were always the most difficult to put on by oneself, but he'd soon give up wine before asking on of the string bean stable boys for a hand.
His room turned blue, as the morning hues painted the sky. He was supposed to be outside Joff's door half past sunrise to escort the little bitch to breakfast. Joffrey never minded when he was late though. He enjoyed the stories of the Hound's late night escapades with wine, or Baelish's woman so much so that he would repeat them to his lady mother, who sneered with disgust. She would tell him such tales were not meant for the breakfast table, but only received a snicker and threat from the blonde prince.
The thought of Littlefinger poisoned his mind and Sandor found himself not walking towards Joffrey's chambers, but Sansa's. iI'll just walk by the door, make sure everything's alright and that snake isn't hanging around like a cockroach in a kitchen./i He walked at a pace quicker than his usual menacing stride.
He turned a corner and started down the hall that led to her chamber. iWhat the buggering hells?/i He watched as a hand maiden ran out of the room. Tyrion's whore then emerged and chased after her, leaving Sansa's door open. A wave of fear washed over him as he ran down the hall, his armor clanking like thunder. When he entered her chamber, his heart stopped.
Sana awoke from blackness. This was the first night since her father died that she had a dreamless sleep. She fell asleep feeling the same way she did when Lady was alive. She slept at the edge of Sansa's bed, her nose facing the door. She fell asleep as a child should, feeling safe in their own bed. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to know what time it was. Hoping to return to the land of peaceful slumber. She rolled over to get more comfortable, but in doing so, felt an odd sensation between her legs. iOh gods!/i Her eyes shot wide open and her heart beat fast. iPlease no. Please, please, please./i She sat up and tore the blankets off her body.
/iNo.../i The wetness she felt between her legs stained the sheet crimson. An uncontrollable sob left her mouth. She flowered in the night. She was now a woman.
She could not move. She sat up with blood between her legs crying like she had the day he father was betrayed. iNow that monster will have me, all of me./i The thought of his wormy lips on her body, his cold hands on her skin, his soulless eyes looking into her as he...
iKnock knock/i Sansa's eyes darted at the door. "Just a moment!" She shouted, but her voice betrayed her and gave away her current state of terror.
"My lady?" Shae's voice filled with concern. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine!" Sansa shouted, she had to think fast. She scrambled out of bed and threw the fur blankets to the floor. "I'll just be a moment!" Sansa tried to sound calm, but could not conceal the sobs in between breaths.
The sounds of Shae shouting ,and banging on the door were muffled as Sansa tried to lift the feather mattress, in hopes of turning it over, but it was much too heavy. Tears streamed down her face as she readied herself to lift again, but the pressure made her dizzy and she stopped. "My lady, please open the door!" Shae continued.
Sansa slowly walked over to the large barrier and unlocked it. She opened it for Shae who was greeted with the sight of Sansa's tear stained cheeks, and bloodied small clothes. The realization set in on Shae's face. She pushed Sansa aside, and shut the door behind them.
"What's the matter?" Shae asked before turning to look around the room. Then she saw it...the blood stained sheets. After a few moments, she went over to the mess and put her right foot on the bed. She pulled up her hand maidens dress, revealing a belt tied tightly around her bronzed thigh with a dagger hidden away. She unsheathed it held the dagger in her hand, as she observed the sheets. She stabbed at the mattress, sending feathers flying everywhere. Sansa watched as her hand maiden, imy friend,/i cut the sheets, trying to get rid of any evidence. Sansa's heart started to perk up. iThis may work! I might be safe!/i She thought. She almost started cheering Shae on but they were interrupted by a cough, as small as a mouse.
They turned and saw Gwendoline, one of Sansa's hand maidens, and Cersei's spies standing in the doorway. She saw the blood and exited the room as quickly as she came. Sansa froze. iIt's too late. She's going to tell the Queen./i Shae ran past her after the spy, but it was no use. Sansa sat on the edge of her bed, playing with a feather in her small hands. I couldn't pretend forever. He flowering wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be a day to celebrate, for she was now a woman and could be married off to a handsome knight. i It's what I always wanted. /i
Footsteps came through her doorway, she turned around expecting Shae but her cheeks flushed red when she saw him. Sandor Clegane stood frozen in her room.i Why is he here?/i His face dropped when he saw the sheets, for he too knew what that meant.
The day Joffrey took her to look at her father's head, Sandor was there. Joffrey told her "As soon as you've had your blood, I'll put a son in you. Mother says that shouldn't be long." His words repulsed her. When they first met she thought he was one of the most handsome lords she'd ever seen. Now she wanted nothing more then to look at his head on a spike.
Sandor walked over to her. Humiliated, she stood and grabbed the heavy furs from the floor and put them on the bed, trying to hide her mess. Sobs escaped her lips again and she ignored his stare as she continued making the bed. He put his hand on her wrist, stopping her fussing. She stood still and watched his fingers trail from her wrist to her hand, pulling it off the blanket gently. She let go and turned to him, but kept her head down, too embarrassed to face anyone. Their closeness made her dizzy and she wondered for a moment if he was going to hug her. With his other hand, he lifted her chin and their eyes met. His stormy eyes did not have their usual rage, but held a sadness that she may or may not have noticed before. She swallowed hard. Sandor let the hand on her chin caress her arm on it's way down back to his side. The touch sent shivers down Sansa's spine. When he let go of her hand he stepped back a few feet. She sat on the edge of her bed, knowing they had to tell the Queen.
Shae came running back in, but halted when she saw the Hound standing above Sansa. Even though Shae never spoke to the burned man, she heard whispers of his reputation and knew it was too late.
After Sansa cleaned herself, Shae brought strips of fabric to put in her small clothes so she wouldn't bleed on her gowns. Sansa decided on a simple powder blue dress and before she emerged from her chamber Shae gave her a hug. She returned the kind gesture. She knew Shae's story may not have been entirely true, but she knew one thing for certain. Shae was not one of Cersei's spies.
Sandor waited for Sansa outside her room. When her door opened, he eyed her messy hair, it was in a long braid down her back, and loose strands hung around her face. Her eyes were red from crying, but hopefully Cersei would think it's from the physical pain.
They walked to Cersei's chambers. He did not hold his arm out for her like last time. It was morning now and people would think it strange to see the Hound walking arm in arm with the Stark girl. They were both silent. Neither knew what to say and after a while, the silence became all they needed to hear. She listened to his breathing with every step. The constant reminder he was next to her made her feel safer than she ever did in the Red Keep.
When they approached Cersei's chamber, two guards on either side opened the doors. Sansa walked forward and noticed the Hound stayed where he was. She looked back at him with concern.
"I'll stand right here girl, don't keep me waiting," He warned. The guards chuckled thinking it was his usual cruel way of speaking, but Sansa knew he was reassuring her that he'd be right outside. More confident, she turned and entered the chambers.
Cersei greeted her with a hug. i?She already knows? Gwendoline must have ran here to tell her./i
"Sit down little dove." She swayed across her large chambers holding out her hand for Sansa to be seated on a lounge covered in a beautiful red material. Large windows all around the back of the room let in the sun, sending the gold needlework on the furniture ablaze. Cersei took a seat on one of the window sills. "Tell me sweetling, how do you feel?"
"Okay, I suppose." Sansa lied. Cersei was not satisfied with her answer so she continued. "I just thought it would be different..."
"In what way?" Cersei gleamed, since her daughter had been sent away, Sansa was almost a surrogate daughter and cold she Cersei was happy to talk about womanly things with her. Sansa hated it when she was nice, because it was hard not to believe. Her soft tone, and smile was so believable. iBe strong like mother. Don't let her manipulate you./i
"I thought it would be less messy." She confessed. Cersei laughed. Their conversation went from her flowering to giving birth, Cersei told her it was the most excruciating pain. How Robert took to hunting every time she gave birth, but not Jamie. He was always by her side.
"When he was told he couldn't come in, he smiled, and asked which one of them proposed to keep him out." The light in her face dimmed when she talked about Joffrey. "He will show you no such devotion." She promised. "The more people you love, the weaker you are. You'll do things for them that you know you shouldn't do. You'll act the fool to make them happy, to keep them safe. Love no one but your children. On that front a mother has no choice."
"Shouldn't I love Joffrey your grace?" Sansa dared.
Cersei looked at her with pity. "You can try...little dove."
Sandor waited for what seemed like an hour before Sansa exited Cersei's chamber. He looked at her for signs of pain or tears but found none. Sansa walked right past him, her eyes blank. Sandor followed her.
"Where are you going?" He boomed, once they were out of the guards ear shot.
"To the Godswood." She replied, never breaking her gaze from the ground in front of her.
"The little bird thinks the beings who put you in this place will help you now? What good have they done for you so far?" He questioned.
"What does it matter to you? You mock the gods, you named your horse after one of them!" She sang.
"Aye, and he's as real as you'll ever get to seeing any of your gods." He spat.
"Of course I'll never see the gods. They are not meant to be seen, they're meant to be felt!" She a "They will always help those who seek their guidance."
"So if they answer everyone, will they give guidance to wolves, the lions, and stags? Who will win the war if everyone is being helped?" Sandor retorted.
Sansa did not respond. She kept walking, her pace full of determination
Sandor lost it. iHow could she still be so naive in thinking the Gods would help her!/i He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "You avoid my question because you know the answer. Your head may be full of songs, but it's not empty. The gods aren't going to help you! You've flowered and the queen knows it! It won't be long now before you marry Joffrey and he puts a son in your belly! And you'd better hope it's a son! Sitting in front of a pale branch isn't going to change that." Sansa stared at him blankly which only raised his blood pressure. He squeeze her shoulders. "Do you hear me, girl?
"You're hurting me!" Sansa cried. Sandor immediately released his grip on her, but she did not run away.
He took a breath. iWhat will it take for her to understand?/i Before he could say anything, Sansa spoke.
"Come with me." She tested. "I'll show you." Without waiting for his answer, she continued walking down the corridor, towards the stables.
The past few days had been cold with winter's greeting, but this morning was warm. Sandor followed Sansa as she walked through the gardens. The smells of honeysuckle, roses, gardenias, and sunflowers filled the air with pleasant aromas. When they walked past a lavender bush, Sansa stopped and picked a flower.
"Lavender is my favorite." She said out loud before continuing to the Godswood. He knew it was her favorite. Whenever he walked by this part of the garden, the relaxing scent reminded him of her. The little bird always smell so sweet.
Sansa never looked back to see if he was still following her on their walk. It was as if she knew he was stalking behind her. When they made their way under the canopy of trees, the air became colder, but Sansa did not shiver. Her red hair looked like blood against the backdrop of the dense green forest.
Sandor had never been to the Godswood before. In all his years serving the Lannisters, he never had the urge to explore the castle. He preferred to leave the grounds and ride Stranger off the Kingsroad, where no man ventured. He got out of King's Landing as much as possible. iMayhaps I'll show her one day./i
He took in his surroundings. The Godswood was beautiful. Trees towered over them, all from different parts of the Seven Kingdoms. The air was filled with different scents, some areas smelled like fresh grass, others smelled like spices. The constant shade from all the leaves that shielded the sky left the air brisk. It caused Sansa's nipples to poke out of her thin dress, but he dared not look.
Sansa took a seat on the stone bench in front of a small river. She looked back at him. "You can sit." She offered.
He looked around, making sure they were alone. He was trained to spot a person from miles away. He listened carefully for rustling that didn't match the footsteps of an animal. He sniffed the air for the scent of another man. Nothing. Feeling safe, he sat by the little bird.
"You know, in my one of my old books it's said that when a river sleeps still that means a psychic nymh lives in it?" She smiled at him. "I know it sounds foolish."
It did, but Sandor didn't tell her that. He let her speak freely, for she wasn't allowed to with anyone else.
"So that's it then?" Sandor pointed to the white weirdood branch with red leaves growing out of it. "That's what all you Northerners believe it."
"Not all, my mother doesn't believe in the old gods." Sansa said, looking at the weirdwood branch. "There are forests full of these trees in Winterfell. Have you ever seen one?" Sansa broke her gaze from the branch and looked at him. He shook his head no. "They're very special. All ceremonies take place in front of them. Knighting young men, blessing babies, weddings..." Sansa's voice grew soft when she said that. "The trees have faces in them, and it's said if you kneel before one and it cries blood, it's a blessing from the Gods."
"Has one ever cried blood for you?" Sandor asked.
"Not yet" Sansa answered. "There is old magic in Winterfell. My father used to tell us stories of his father and those before him who were given answeres in mysterious way. I loved the idea of magic, and believed in it wholeheartedly before I came here. Nothing I asked for, for my father's life, Joffrey's mercy, to go home, was granted to me. In fact it was only made worse."
"You can't have what you want when there are lions trying to eat you." Sandor spat. "Don't ask a bleeding branch when you can do these things yourself."
"I can't do it myself." Sansa admitted, playing with the lavender flower she plucked.
Her words made Sandor sick. With the amount of bullying she had to endure it was no wonder he spirit was breaking, She chirped empty courtesies she knew the Queen and Joffrey wanted to hear. She was learning how to play the game, a game those with kind hearts shouldn't have to learn. "Your brother is off fighting his war, and your mother is by his side. No one has come to help you and yet you survived this far on your own." She heard the anger in Sandor's voice.
It made her sad to admit her brother and mother weren't thinking about her as much as she was them. Yes, they were dealing with the fate of the North, and she was less important than that, but still, she felt like she was being treated as a pawn in everyone's game, and not like a person with feelings.
"Thank you, Sandor." She whispered. "For treating me like a person." She turned to him and stuck the tiny purple flower in his armor. She dared glance at him, expecting him to laugh, but no sound came out. She noticed his hair looked different today. Clean.
They say quietly for a while longer before heading back to the castle. Sandor walked her to her rooms, then proceeded to his. When he shut the door he went to the dresser and opened one of the top drawers. He picked up a brown leather book. His grandfather gave it to his sister for her nameday when they were very young. It was her last nameday... A maiden was sewn onto the cover, presenting a wounded knight with a crown of flowers. He took the purple flower from his armor and carefully placed in inside the pages.