This one is kind of a long one bc I love you guys.

Again, Sandor found himself shuddering as he stood in Jofferey's court. The Stark boy, Robb, had won another victory on the battle field, this time taking Jaime Lannister captive, and the ninny king did not like that much at all. He'd been scowling and cursing all day, The Hound took the brunt of his rage, but now he'd called Sansa Stark before him. It was her turn to feel his wrath.

"You need to answer for your brother's latest treason." Jofferey said, obviously from his throne, crossbow in hand.

"Your Grace, whatever my traitor brother has done, I have no part. You know that!" the Stark girl pleaded, like a good little bird. Jofferey scowled, called upon his cousin to tell her what had happened.

"Through some sorcery, your brother felled Stafford Lannister with an army of wolves. Thousands of good men were butchered," Lancel whined. Oh how Sandor hated that git. "After the slaughter, the Northman feasted on the flesh of the slain." The Hound rolled his eyes, fucking exaggeration bordering on lies if he's ever heard it. Sansa whimpered from her spot on the floor and Sandor stood straighter. He hated this, he may be a shitty person, he may have killed before, but never an undeserving little girl.

"Killing you would send your brother a message." Jofferey mulled over, taking aim down the sight of his bow. "but my mother insists on keeping you alive." He finally sighed, dropping his crossbow to the side. The Stark girl seemed relieved, but Sandor was not. "Stand." Sansa did as she was directed and immediately she was on her feet. Her puffy eye flickered to Sandor, scared, unsure, but he couldn't help her, he had no idea what was expected to happen, but he knew it was something vile. "We will have to send your brother a message some other way. Meryn." The ninny king called upon one of his men, one that Sandor knew well as a sackless pile of shit. Meryn Trant.

The crown guardsman slowly stepped forward, his empty face eyeing Sansa Stark with a lascivious smile. It made Sandor sick to watch, but what would he do about it? Nothing. He'd rather not end up on a spike.

"Leave her face, I like her pretty." Jofferey ordered him, his only order. Meryn smirked at the king, cracking his knuckles and sparing a glance to the Hound before striking her gut hard. Sandor bit back a frown as the girl's cries of fear and pain were met with dull thuds of Meryn Grant's fists. "My lady is over dressed, unburden her." Jofferey spoke over the violence. Trant was all to eager to oblige and with a satisfied smirk he ripped her back open. Sandor shifted uncomfortably, looking away from the young girl. He enjoyed naked women as much as the next, but not like this.

No, you like them Dornish and sassy. He thought out of the blue, a thought almost as disturbing as what was happening in front of him. He wondered what Elyria would say, what she would do of she'd been this. He knew that she would come to the young Stark girl's aid, she wouldn't let a coward like Meryn Trant get away with this.

"If we want Robb Stark to hear us, were going to have to speak LOUDER." Jofferey spoke again, pulling Sandor from his thoughts. Sansa whimpered in fear, clutching what remained of her dress to her chest. Meryn drew his sword, causing Sandor's breath to hitch as the coward man brought the blade over his head.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Someone shouted from behind the crowd, just in time to stop whatever in the seven hell's almost happened. It was Tyrion Lannister, followed close by his sellsword, a man by the name of Bronn. The imp crossed the hall quickly, for a dwarf, and was standing at Sana'a side in no time. "What kind of knight beats a helpless girl?"

"The kind who serves his king, imp." Trant shot back.

"Careful now, we don't want to get blood all over your pretty white cloak." The imp's sellsword said, his threat thinly veiled. Sandor smirked to himself, his eyes finding their way to Trant. He didn't like that much.

"Someone get the girl something to cover herself with!" Tyrion demanded. Sandor, who was finding himself ever generous as of late, stepped forward, ripping off his own white cloak and draping it over her shoulders. He felt her tremble underneath his hands, which made him disgusted that he even more the damn thing. The imp continued to berate his nephew, which as hand of the king he is more than able to do.

"No one threatens Your Grace in the presence of his King's guard." Meryn scowled, reaching for his sword hilt.

"I'm not threatening the King, Ser Meryn, I am educating him. Bronn, the next time Ser Meryn speaks, kill him." Sandor smirked again, oh how he loved when the imp was pestering others besides himself. "That was a threat. See the difference?" Ser Meryn decided to remain quiet, seems he likes his life and would rather not tempt Tyrion's sellsword this day.

Sandor stood quietly at his post outside of the ninny King's quarters. He would soon be off duty and he'd planned on making his way into the Dorne woman's bed. He had to swallow his smile just thinking about it. The sound of footsteps grew closer and he turned, expecting to find his relief. What he did not expect to find was Tyrion Lannister leading two whores. No. One whore and the Dornish Woman.

"What's this then?" He growled, more to Elyria than to Tyrion. Thankfully the dwarf didn't notice, but Elyria did. Elyria watched the man in front of her with wide eyes and a look of pure confusion. He was the last man she expected to see here, her Sandor, and as she looked at him she realized he was thinking the same.

"I've a name day present for my nephew, is he in?"

"No." the Hound growled, still looking at Elyria.

"Shame." Tyrion tutted, turning to look at the girls. Elyria smiled as the imp looked at her, her smile disappearing once the imp turned back around. "I shall just leave them for him. Do make sure he gets them." Tyrion told him, opening the door and leading the women inside. Elyria watched as Ros happily followed, but she found herself trailing behind.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sandor asked her, still startled. Elyria looked at him in disbelief.

"Me? It's obvious why I'm here! But you, Not Ser, why are you here?" Elyria whispered at him coolly. She was angry with him, had he lied to her? He must have considering he was wearing the cloak of a King's Guard. "You lied to me!" She hissed, shoving his shoulder. He caught her wrist easily.

"Not here, songbird." He growled, shoving her towards the door.

"I'm not your songbird!" Elyria gave him one more glare over her shoulder, walking inside after her friend. Sandor's stomach did flips. Was he jealous? He couldn't be. He shouldn't be, she was after all a whore. But part of him was jealous that the prick King would have her. But more importantly he felt uneasy. He did not like this at all.

Elyria and Ros had been left alone for about a half hour, the entire time Ros chirped away about how fun it would be fucking the king. Elyria couldn't listen to her though because beyond those doors, Sandor was standing, caught in his lies. She knew he was a bloody knight.

I bet his name isn't even Sandor. She thought viciously. To say she was hurt was an understatement and a stupid one at that. Why was she hurt? He was just a client! Gods, if her whore mother could her now.

The door creaked open, causing Elyria's head to swim with thought after thought. As it opened she caught sight of Sandor's face, but only momentarily as the young King came into view. She smiled at him, sure that Sandor had seen it too.

"Your Grace!" She called, wearing her most debonair grin. King Jofferey stopped mid doorway. Ros gave Elyria a sly grin before meeting him where he stood.

"Happy name day, your grace!" Ros told him seductively. The Boy King stopped, the door creaking closed behind him. Deep down, Elyria was relieved, she'd rather not have had Sandor watch. But why?

"No!" Elyria heard Jofferey say, snapping her back to what was happening on her side of the door. Ros had tried to reach into the boys pants, but he stopped her. Jofferey's eyes found Elyria from where she sat on the bed and she smiled at him as he nodded towards her with his head. "Touch her." He told Ros.

The girls exchanged confused smiles, but neither said a word. It wasn't often that a man refused a prostitute, but sometimes they liked to watch before they jumped in, jitters. Ros obliged the little king, slowly undressing Elyria, who smiled as she did.

"Could you… Hit her?" The King asked suddenly. Elyria and Ros paused, but only long enough to giggle at each other. Elyria climbed out of bed, bending over the end of it seductively while Ros took to spanking her. "My uncle sent you?" The King asked as Ros continued to spank Elyria.

"Yes Your Grace, he chose us himself." Ros told him, hitting Elyria again. Personally, spanking did nothing for the Dornish girl, it was barbaric and violence had no place in the bedroom, but she played the part, moaning when she needed. She heard the King begin to undress as he walked towards them but when he did not touch her, Elyria stood up. There she found the King holding his belt out to Ros.

"Use this." He told the red head, who looked at the belt in shock. Elyria watched him confused, her eyes darting to Ros, who seemed to be asking her permission. Elyria shrugged, smiling at the King seductively as Ros took the belt from him. Then she brought the leather down onto Elyria's bare backside. "Harder" the King said, joining them at the bedside. Elyria went rigid, as did Ros, who hit her again, but not hard enough for his Grace's liking. In an instant, Jofferey had has hand on Ros' neck. "I said harder." He hissed at her, releasing her neck violently.

Elyria took a deep breath but she dared not stand. The air in the room had changed and despite the raging fire, Elyria felt herself grow cold. Her head was swimming with thoughts as Ros looked down at her, afraid. She could run, but she wouldn't make it past the door, The Hound would surely stop her.

Elyria felt the sting of the leather before she even knew what hit her. Ros had brought the belt down hard on her backside and it tore at her viciously. Her skin was on fire and she cried out at the unexpected pain. She knew the King was watching them now, more than likely with a look of sheer joy on his face. Ros brought the belt down again, and again, harder each time, until the sting turned into a constant throb of burning and pain. Elyria remained quiet, now that she knew the whips were coming. She refused to give him an satisfaction so she merely gripped the sheets tighter.

Suddenly, Ros had stopped her beatings and Elyria took a deep, calming breath. She dared to turn around this time, only to find the King holding out to Ros a scepter with a large stag head on the end. Both girls looked at him in horror and Ros dared a look back at Elyria. The Dornish woman was shaking on the bed, she knew what was next.

"Your Grace..." Ros pleaded, taking the stag headed scepter from him. They watched as he crossed to a nearby chair, reloading a giant crossbow. "Too much pain will spoil the pleasure." The boy king said nothing, as he continued to load his weapon. Slowly Ros turned to look at Elyria, who sat frozen on his bed. "Your Grace, if your uncle finds out-" She started again, only to be interrupted by Jofferey.

"Oh I want him to find out. You will bring her to his chambers when you're finished and show him what you've done." He told her, leveling his crossbow at the both of them. By this time Elyria had turned on the bed, kneeling to face them. She did not cry, she did not beg. Elyria knew that any of that would have only added to his gratification. "Or the same thing will happen to you." Ros began shaking her head, but Elyria stopped her, she knew what needed to be done.

"Just do it," Elyria whispered. She could take a hit or two, hopefully The Hound outside would help them, hopefully someone would come. Ros began to weep, shaking her head, she couldn't beat her friend. "Just do it-Ros-ROS! FUCKING HIT ME GOD DAMMIT!"

"I'm so sorry!" Ros cried, raising the stag head. She brought the weapon down with such force that when it struck Elyria it knocked her from the bed and onto the floor. Elyria's head hit the floor hard, knocking her dizzy and caused the earth to spin. Her cheek was on fire and when she reached up to touch it she found a gash from just under her eye to the bottom of her jaw. It was bleeding profusely and she was certain that it had cut through her cheek.

Elyria, not as hardened to pain as she used to be, whimpered as she saw Ros round the corner of the bed. The girl was crying and she descended upon her friend quickly, raising again the stag headed scepter. Elyria closed her eyes, screaming as the scepter connected with the floor above her head. Looking up at her friend she could see Ros was no dummy. Jofferey hadn't moved to watch them, the sounds were enough, and all that Elyria had to do was play along.

The Dornish woman took a hit to her abdomen, groaning in pain and then another hit to the floor by her head. Several pummels later, Ros stood, giving Elyria a grave look. Shut up. It said and she didn't need to tell Elyria twice. The girl was half conscious, that first hit to her head was a whallop if she'd ever felt one, and her face was wet with blood, as well as the floor around her. It was a bleeder, but it was a good thing, Joffrey would think that she had been bludgeoned more than she had.

The rest of the world was a blur. Elyria felt Ros pick her up, her feet dragging against the cold stone floor. She remembered seeing Jofferey's cold, evil smile as he held the door open for them. Elyria remembered the hall was emptied, and the steps were painful, the pair fell numerous times, Elyria's dead weight too much for Ros to handle. Her side burned and her face was numb, it hurt to breath. She tried in vain to reach a hand up to her face but Ros stopped her.

"Don't touch it love," Ros cooed her through her own tears. Once they'd finally gotten to Tyrion's chambers, the room was much fuller than Elyria would have hoped. Tyrion had a whore in his bed and she screeched, loudly, while two giant men stood around them. Ros, unable to hold Elyria any longer, dropped both of them to the stone floor. Hands, hands everywhere, two tall men and a short one, Tyrion Lannister.

"What the fuck were you thinking you shitty imp?!" One voice roared, close to Elyria's ear. That voice. It was her Hound. Huge calloused hands held her tightly, as another, smaller hand brushed her cheek. Elyria cried out in pain and her Hound growled again.

"I didn't know he would do this."

"He didn't do this! I did! He made me do it!" Ros was in hysterics, her voice going in and out.

"She's still breathing!" Sandor exclaimed wildly. Breathing, but barely. He noticed. Carefully he moved her to Tyrion's nearby bed. He'd half expected him to object, but the short Lannister didn't. Tyrion pushed him away, touching her neck softly. He was looking for a pulse, which even Sandor could have told him she had.

"Bronn, Maester Pycelle and quickly." Tyrion told him gravely, turning on the Hound. "You. Out."

"Fuck off." Sandor spat at him, going to walk past him. When he'd heard the screaming he immediately ran for the imp, hoping he would go and check on his nephew, Sandor had been to much a coward to stop the boy himself. But when the girls entered Tyrion's chamber, all Sandor felt was regret. He should have stopped him himself.

Tyrion threw up his hands, as if in defeat.

"I can only imagine how you know this woman, and I am truly sorry. But you need to escort Miss Rosslyn home safely and you need to return to Jofferey's guard." That was the very last thing Clegane wanted to do. He'd rather wring the bitch King's neck. He had gone too far this time.

"Like hell I'm gonna be taking any orders from you, imp."

"Do you want her safe, Clegane?!" His question stopped Sandor in his tracks. Of course he wanted her safe. Tyrion took his silence as answer enough. "then you need to return to normal. If Joffrey were to find out that she'd survived…" the imp needn't finish. Sandor huffed, frustrated before turning to the other whore.

"Get up girl." He scowled at her, taking her upper arm roughly.

Stay Beautiful!