Author's note: Hello, hello! After a few years I have picked up this fic again, I think the reappearance of a certain Hound may have resurrected my inspiration. Hope you all like, please review, reviews are love!
Sandor's fleeting dream trembled a little as some sensation broke his peace. It appeared as a light shiver across the landscape of his heavy memories, he found this disconcerting. Then it came again and again, troubling and disturbing the canvas of his slumber. At last he felt himself being pulled from it altogether and his heavy eyes blinked several times, a familiar alcohol induced ache deep in the sockets. He felt a drip of cool liquid fall on his forehead and slide slowly down his brow and over the smoother side of his face. A moment passed as he closed his eyes but they soon flew open with a start as another drop fell upon his skin.
Sitting bolt upright the unpleasant ache rolled like thunder, slamming the back of his eyes with a painful tension. Yet looking around he saw Enza sat above him, a cup of water in hand, the latest teasing drop resting on her finger tip.
"What in seven hells are you doing?" He groaned, sounding weary from the pain rather than angry. Rubbing the hair from his face he grumbled again, Enza sat and watched him, her crossed ankles rocking back and forth a little.
"Your master was sick in my bed; I have not rested the night."
"Found somewhere else did you?"
"No, he lies in it still, we shall have to air my room for I do not know how my lifetimes, the aroma is vile."
"What are you hoping from me then?" Sandor mumbled attempting to stand but his body still had other ideas. Enza slipped off the ledge and took up a seating position opposite him.
"Lady Spiridon, what is she like?" Enza asked normally, as though at this point there was no other possible topic to be brought up.
"If you're hoping she is ugly, you'll be disappointed."
"Fat?"
"No."
"Pity."
"Not a cunt either."
"Sandor!" Enza exclaimed. "Such words shouldn't be used about any woman."
"Does he use that word about her?" Sandor asked, a little more present now.
"He seems full of mad passion for her."
"In his mind maybe, he'll have to prise his prick from you long enough to show such madness, I have not seen it."
"I do not imagine you stand peeping at doors." Enza giggled, she rose from the floor and held out her hand. "Come, we should eat. Aelis will have made fresh bread."
Sandor did not take her hand but he followed her to the kitchen where the smell of newly baked bread tempted his nostrils. Standing by the fire boiling milk in a low pan stood Aelis, her hand stirring at the contents with a wooden spoon. Upon turning at the noise she looked upon Sandor at first with the natural mild surprise anyone would have caused coming upon her suddenly, but on realising it was he, her face contorted a little with a look of anxiety. Enza slipped by the table and made a bee line for the fresh loaf of baked bread, still steaming a little after being withdrawn from the stove. The smell was potently delicious now, Sandor's stomach rumbled beneath his tunic but he ignored it, instead keeping his eyes subtly on Aelis. Enza sauntered over to her young companion and resting her cheek upon her back like a child resting its own upon its mother's knee she said softly.
"My dream, you're a blessing by the Gods."
Sandor saw Aelis smile a little, she had good teeth. And certainly a girl by Aelis' age would rarely have a smile that spoke of such purity, like fresh untouched snow. It was a rare thing indeed for she must be younger than twenty, no longer a girl yet still a young woman.
"Take a bit by my permission." Aelis laughed gently, then looking around at Sandor she said more curtly. "For him too."
"Casden will be furious, Lord Faelus has soiled the bed with vomit and is still sleeping."
"He is paid well enough." Aelis replied quietly. "He has sense in his head to not be trite over money."
"A wise man." Sandor chipped in, his words seemed to make Aelis start a little again and her eyes darted towards him.
"I… think you have not had a bed last night, sir?" She continued.
"He managed well enough." Enza answered in Sandor's place, a little chuckle escaping her lips as she spoke. "He drank enough last night to sink several fleets, I wonder what threats Faelus thinks a man such as he need fear with a great bear like you to guard over him, Sandor."
"If he were a fish caught in Maidenpool they would throw him back." Aelis added, stirring idly.
"Hush." Enza said guardedly, as though any minute Faelus might come upon them and feel insulted. Yet her attention was diverted by a laugh from Sandor and he nodded.
"She's right, though most would say he was a fucking whoreson with an empty head."
"Well I am going to rouse the empty headed whoreson, but remember it is easy to cast comments from afar. Someone may say that your skin is akin to wax and as for madame here, well some may say her legs are shut tighter than an oyster with a secret."
Enza's tone was more playful than scornful and yet as she sauntered away, Sandor noticed a flash of feeling pass over Aelis' face. Reaching forward he pulled a chunk of bread from the loaf and proceeded to eat slowly, watching as Aelis added oats to the now bubbling milk and stirred it to a thick consistency. Sandor observed the flames lick at the base of the pan and deep inside he felt a little sick, his muscles constricting mid chew. As Aelis pulled the pan away and rested it upon the table she looked up at him, her head cocking slightly to one side as she observed.
"What are you gawping at?" He snapped, she jumped a little and her hand grazed against the scalding heat of the iron pan. As the small cry escaped her lips, the burnt hand snapped backwards towards her and she cradled it a moment, dewy tears coming to her eyes. Without another word she moved to where a bucket of fresh cold water rested by the doorway, ignoring Sandor's large frame as she passed him. Slowly she dipped her hand in, her face wincing with pain.
"You should be more careful." He said bluntly, no empathy in his voice making him sound as though he were sneering. Before he realised it, Aelis had seized the bucket and threw the whole pale in his direction. He managed to move just enough so that the bulk of it splashed only his left arm and leg but the assault was second nature to him and he reacted immediately. As Aelis attempted to flee to the door, he caught her arm and yanked her towards him, spinning her on her heel so her back was crushed against his front. One hand went up to her throat and the other wrapped over her abdomen so she was trapped. His fingers gripped at the flesh of her neck to only give superficial pain, more to make a point rather than cause harm.
"Do not do that again." He growled, his hot, sour breath full in her ear. "Your brother may have a nice place here, he may have a good deal with my master but I could snap you in two and there would be nothing he could barter to stop me."
Aelis' chest heaved in panic; he could feel the thunderous pulse in her throat straining beneath his fingertips. The sheer powerless of her physical form contradicted the resolute silence she had adopted when he grabbed her. He had expected her to scream and make a scene, yet she did no such thing. Her anger had made her impulsive but the aftermath had made her wiser. Still the silence prolonged and he gripped her with the same force and Sandor wondered what to do next. The thought of fucking her was now crossing his mind and there was little to disguise this from her. Yet she remained still and his face pressed a little closer into her hair, she smelt clean and fresh from washing and yet homey from the scent of the fresh bread. The desire was unbearable, when confronted with an untouched temptation such as she, anyone would feel the lust of a man who had not bedded a woman in months.
"Clegane!" A voice called and his body tensed. "Clegane."
"Who… who is that?" Aelis asked. Her words seemed to break the spell and he unceremoniously released her, sending her reeling forward slightly and heaving with quiet relief. The voice was not that of a man, nor did any woman here call him by his surname. It was a regal, smooth sounding voice dripping with privilege.
"Lady Spiridon?" Aelis whispered.
Sandor now re-entered her space and said gruffly.
"Go answer for me; tell her Lord Spiridon will be coming."
Sandor's eyes were conscious of something but Aelis could not tell what amidst the hardness of his expression. She brushed past him and disappeared from his view, the exchange of the two women becoming a distant hum outside. Looking at the scattered water on the floor, Sandor recalled what had just occurred between the two of them, the arrival of that damn woman interrupting a moment when he could have acted. His desire was not quite as intense as when he had held her near to him, the sound of his mistress's voice quelling it somewhat. Casden had no right parading a fresh faced nymphet about the place unless he was intending a bidding war for her. Not that Sandor would involve himself in such a thing, she'd be better once plucked and used once or twice, he'd laid with virgins before, he did not like tears. Such a thing only riled a man with distaste.
"Clegane!" His name was called a third time but then he realised it was his master's and recovering quickly from his thoughts he moved outside.
There by a proud looking black horse stood Lady Spiridon, Aelis was marvelling the beast's sleek black coat. Faelus caught Sandor's gaze the moment he stepped outside.
"Ah there you are!"
Yet Sandor did not reply, instead his eyes followed Lady Spiridon's up towards a window on the second floor. Stood there, hair flowing with all firey freedom was Enza.
"I see." Said Lady Spiridon. "That is the face for which I may put a name too."
"That is just some whore of Casden's, Merta. I barely know her, she beds often before I even arrive here."
Merta stepped forward and grabbed Aelis' chin harshly and yanked her towards her, scrutinising her closely. For a moment they all stood in suspended silence, Aelis' eyes daring to meet Merta's. The glance lasted for a long second before Aelis' chin was released, Merta exhaling deeply. In a swift, agile motion, Merta mounted the horse unaided and cracking the reigns began a slow gallop away saying nothing.
Sandor looked upon the young woman, her eyes now demurely dropping to the floor. Faelus came closer to her and with his index finger tipped her chin up so her gaze met his, glancing upon her in a way identical to his wife.
"Such a face, don't you think Clegane." Faelus turned to look at Sandor, yet his man did not reply. After a pause he laughed. "Come, we must return home."
Faelus walked towards the out building where their horses were stabled the previous evening, leaving Sandor and Aelis alone a little distance apart. After a moment he noticed a single tear dripped down her cheek and he saw a look of self loathing upon her face. Why could a girl such as this feel such a thing, what right did her purity have to take on such an emotion? The brutal side of him could grip her painfully hard and shake her to reason, strike her if necessary. Yet before he could contemplate any action she wiped it away defiantly and turning to him said.
"I acted like a child with the water, I'm sorry." Then biting her bottom lip as she thought further she added. "I hope your mistress is not too displeased."
Sandor said nothing and taking one last glance at her he turned on his heel and walked to follow his master.