I know its been a little while since I've uploaded a chapter, but I have been annoyingly busy these past few weeks. But good things do come to those who wait. This chapter took me forever to write, I kept on changing little bits and one time I just started all over again because i wasn't happy with it. What can I say I'm a perfectionist. Thank you to all the reviews, favourites and your patience. It brings a smile to my face truly! So keep on telling me what you think, I greatly appreciate it :)

Slightlynerdy.

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 16.

The King had been very open with the problems that his Kingdom faced. She listened intently as King Robert Baratheon, 1st of his name, spilled all the secrets of court intrigue to an 18 year old girl. It had been, of course, due to the wine which kept appearing in ice cold flagons at the foot of the table. After his 5th cup of the beautiful Dornish red that he kept pouring down his throat he had dismissed her, along with the finished letters that Tarynn had written during the King's monologue.

She had stood and he had drunkenly reached for her hand, he had brought it up to his lips but had passed out before he had kissed it. Her fingers slipped from his grasp and when a maid appeared Tarynn directed her to find some guards in order to bring the paralytic ruler of the Seven Kingdoms to his rooms. The girl didn't even seem phased that her King was passed out on the table amidst rolls of parchment and bottles of ink. It must be a common occurrence to see the king in such a state.

She waited for a few more moments, but departed at the tell tale sound of heavy boots stomping up the corridor. She slipped past the guards as they came into the small council room and headed back up towards the throne room, hoping that her father had sent someone to guide her to him and her new rooms. When she emerged, no one was there, the hall was eerily empty. The tapestries that hung on the walls were rich in colour, depicting Robert's victory against the Targaryens. But what captured her attention was the throne, a deep grey steel, a thousand swords and daggers looked to have been melted into one in order to create the legendary seat. She approached it and ran her fingers over one of the blades that protruded out of the arm of the throne. She was shocked when she found out that the blades were still sharp.

"Magnificent, isn't it? Quite a few Targaryen kings sat on that crude example of metal work; it will forever be a symbol of their reign, no matter how hard our glorious king tries to wipe away their stain."

Tarynn froze, her body tensing as the voice floated through the air, his voice had a profound effect on her, it sent an unwelcome chill into her bones as she turned reluctantly to face him. He was at the bottom of the stairs, one foot upon the step as if he was going to climb the last few steps to her but had decided against it.

"Toby, are you here to escort me to my rooms?"

"In sense, but first your father requested to see you." She clenched the letters tightly in her hand, "Have I mentioned how beautiful you look today?"

She could still remember the way he dug the heel of his palm into the small of her back, and the menacing tone is his voice. "What do you want?"

"I thought it was plainly obvious," he smiled and his face morphed into that of Theon's for a brief second. He reached out to her, expecting her to take his hand. She moved past him, her skirts dragging across the cold surface of the steps. He closed his hand into a fist, and sighed almost inaudibly. "Have I done something to offend you my Lady?"

She remained quiet; she was annoyed with him, annoyed that he expected just to return to her good graces when he had acted so repulsively towards her. However she had been thankful that his presence had deterred whatever Littlefinger had had in mind. She waited patiently as he moved to open one of the doors. "You can't stay silent forever."

No. I can't, but until I receive an apology from you I will not speak one word.

She remained quiet, watching the muscles in his back ripple as he heaved open the door. She passed through it into a courtyard, a little way away was a tower that reached up into the sky, connected to it was a large building that stretched along one of the walls of the Red Keep, several windows were open and Tarynn could have sworn that she caught a glimpse of Sansa's red hair.

Toby walked ahead of her, his hand on his sword as he moved among the servants that populated the yard. A few soldiers were practising their fighting techniques with a large burly man in a gold cloak watching over them, his arms folded across his chest. The majority of the servants that she had passed were women; in their arms they carried bundles of linen or baskets of clothing.

"Always busy at this time of day," Toby looked back at her, "Still not talking to me?" She looked away from him and his confident green eyes, "I'll take the silence as a yes then."

He took her by the arm, steering her round a flurry of people and to a door, he opened it, checked his surroundings before pushing her inside.

"Toby what do you think you're…"

He placed a finger against her lips, "Sssh, wouldn't want someone to find Lady Tarynn Stark in store room with a lowly soldier now would we?"

She pushed his hand away indignantly; the proximity of the small room had caused Toby to lean against her. "Toby please, my father will be wondering where I am."

He pulled at the end of her braid and the leather band slipped out, slowly he began to loosen Tarynn's hair until It fell, bushy and curly to the small of her back once more. "I like it when your hair is down." His green eyes glowed in the darkness, he leant in close to her, his voice eerily quiet, and "I suppose you want an apology." His hand ran down her side and her breath caught in her throat. "I can show you how much I am sorry, if you wanted." His voice grew thicker, laden down with only what she could describe as desire.

He pushed against her, his leg moving between her own, causing her skirts to bunch up. She placed her hands against his chest, in a feeble attempt to push him away. "Toby please… I can't… I don't…" His hand settled on her breast he squeezed it gently.

"You want me Tarynn, I know you do. I've seen this before. The quiet, bookish girl always succumbs to what her heart wants."

Something snapped inside Tarynn at that precise moment, she realised that Toby wasn't as kind and thoughtful, wasn't as honest as she had at first thought. But also that he wasn't what her heart wanted.

The Hound was right; I was such a fool to ever doubt him. Toby only wants what's between my thighs.

She gasped in shock when Toby began to kiss her neck; she had often heard the whores, whenever she had wandered into the town in Winterfell, talk of how pleasurable it was to be kissed there. But it felt wrong to Tarynn. She pushed Toby away, stronger this time, and he stumbled back clearly in shock, she opened the door and looked down briefly, realising that Toby had unlaced his breeches pre-emptively. Bile rose in her throat as she left Toby in the store room, closing the door behind her. She half ran, half walked through the yard towards the tower that she had previously assumed had been the tower of the Hand. Luck was with her when she noticed a gold symbol beside the door. She opened it before running up the stairs, holding up her skirts. When she reached the top she stopped, taking a moments breath. Before her lay a corridor, doors were situated along its length on both sides, one of the doors were open. She approached it and looked into a room.

It was beautifully decorated, in rich blues and creams, a large bed wrought out of dark wood occupied the majority of the space but there were two archways that led into different parts of the chamber. A girl was hunched over a chest at the foot of the bed, pulling out various items, books, quills, ink pots; Tarynn's items.

"Bronte?"

The girl stood and turned round, "Oh, Lady Tarynn, I did not hear you enter. I though one of your personal guards were escorting you to Lord Stark."

"He got… Caught up with something. Please, would you direct me to my father's quarters?"

"Yes my Lady, if you would." Bronte gestured to the door, and together they left Tarynn's new rooms. They only went a short ways and up a few steps to reach where her father's new offices were. She knocked on the door, and stood back. Ser Jory passed her with a smile and a nod and she replied in kind. When she heard her father's gruff voice "Enter" she pushed open the door and entered her father's new rooms.

Her father sat at a desk his squire running around and righting everything, she bid goodbye to Bronte quietly before moving over to where her father sat pouring over numerous pieces of paper. There was a large heavy tome as well, balanced precariously on the edge. She couldn't make out the entire title as it was faded, but she made out 'Baratheon'.

"Ah Tarynn, so glad that you have decided to make an appearance."

"I apologise father, the king spent a long time mulling over what he wanted to be mentioned within the letter."

"Do you have a copy of it?"

She held up the folded parchment briefly before setting it down on the table in front of her father. He picked it up, unfolded it and began to read its contents.

"The king has never been one for subtlety." Her father rubbed his forehead and dumped the letter back onto the table.

"He has mentioned that he would want it done in front of others, perhaps in the form of a poisoned chalice or one of the faceless men."

"I will speak to Robert, she is only a girl and I don't think she is a threat to Westeros."

"Father, the king is adamant in his decision; he wants her humiliated and culled before anything gets out of hand."

"He wants her culled... She is but a girl, not an animal. The king has been known to make brash decisions, I'll talk to him Tarynn but for now you need to get ready for dinner, we dine at sundown."

Inside her heart plummeted, she had wanted time to explore the keep, to learn its secrets, search the library that she had heard of. But no, instead she would need to use the next few hours to make herself look presentable in order to feast with the king and his brood.

She groaned and her father looked up at her, "You know I can't decide who you remind me of most." She looked at him and he stood. "What is wrong my darling?"

She shrugged, "I'm worried."

"About?"

"Marrying."

Her father moved round the desk, taking her hands in his, "I know that I have been talking about you being married but that's only because your mother and I didn't have you betrothed at an earlier age. It will strengthen my stance in this cursed city to have you as a connection to an family that has a stake in King Landing."

"So a Baratheon or a Tyrell?"

"Well those are the ones who have members around your age, if you weren't fussed you could be betrothed to a…"

"No, no one younger father."

"Renly Baratheon seems like the best candidate… To be honest I had hoped that you had seen through Theon's faults and had married him. It would have strengthened my connections to the Greyjoys considerably, seeing as how Theon would have become ruler of the Iron Islands and with his wife being a Stark, I could have directly influenced what was going on… Write to him Tarynn."

Why are you doing this to me father?

"What about the Tyrell?"

"Willas? He is a cripple Tarynn."

"Cripple or no, tell me about him."

Her father let go of her hands, "He is a breeder, breeding the finest hawks and horses and very intellectual. He is also heir to house Tyrell being Mace Tyrell's eldest son."

Tarynn mulled over the thought, Willas seemed ideal, true he was a cripple, and yes he was older than her by a fair few years, but he appeared to share the same interests as her. If she had to be married to anyone, then perhaps this Tyrell wouldn't be so bad.

"Perhaps send him a letter father?"

"I suppose, if Renly is not suitable." Her father moved to the window, "You need not think of this now Tarynn, I will sort it out. You must go get ready for dinner. I will have someone send for you shortly."

Tarynn nodded, before turning and leaving her father's quarters, she closed the door behind her and headed towards her rooms.

When she reached them, Bronte was adding wood to the fire.

"Bronte? What are you doing? The weather is too hot for a fire."

"It's so that your hair dries quicker my Lady, it is an expense but a necessary one, and your bath is ready for you."

Tarynn entered the cold white marbled bathroom; the bath was not a metal tub like in Winterfell but a marble one, set in the floor. It was filled with hot water. She undressed, handing her clothes to Bronte who disappeared from the room with them. She took off her undergarments before stepping into the hot water.

The warmth spread through her veins and the muscles in her back relaxed as she lowered herself into the water. The marble was slick against her skin, she ran her hand over her back, realising that there were small bumps dotting her skin, her spots were coming back to haunt her. She called for Bronte, who came hurtling in with a small pile of towels. She hung one over a rail that was beside the bath, and took the smaller one towards Tarynn.

"My Lady if you wrap your hair in this I will be able to scrub down your back."

Tarynn didn't know how long she spent in the bath, but when she emerged, wrapped in just a towel, a piece of parchment was lying on her chest of drawers that resided beneath the window.

She picked it up, and read what had been written on it in untidy block capitals.

GODSWOOD, AFTER YOU HAVE DINED.

It hadn't been signed, and Tarynn did not recognise the scrawl. She put it back down on the dresser and dropped her towel. She moved towards the fire allowing the heat to dry the rest of her off.

When Bronte re-emerged Tarynn had been sitting in her underclothes beside the fire, the sky had begun to fade to pink, dusk was settling in.

"Lady Tarynn your dress."

Tarynn looked up from the burning embers of the fire towards Bronte who held up a pale grey, almost silver dress. The cut of the front was a little low, and Tarynn eyed it wearily.

"Where did you get this from?"

"It is one of the dresses that Queen Cersei commissioned for you."

Tarynn picked up the hem of the skirt, "Remind me to thank our most gracious Queen." Tarynn scoffed, "Do you know who sent me this note?"

"No my Lady, Teddy… I mean Tedius, handed it to me earlier. He didn't say who gave it to him only that Lady Tarynn Stark should have it."

"Hmm. Most peculiar… I suppose I should get dressed then."

"Would you like me to curl your hair? Sara who does the Queen's hair taught me how to do it."

Tarynn gazed over the slender young girl with her straw like blonde hair, she smiled, "That would be lovely Bronte, and please call me Tarynn when we're alone."

"Okay… Tarynn."

When Bronte had finished with her hair, and Tarynn had managed to squeeze into the restricting dress, she had looked into the looking glass that stood to the right of her bed. Her breasts were squashed quite painfully together, and her waist had been made smaller through the use of a tight whalebone corset. As she stared at her reflection she realised that she did not recognise herself. The curls, the tight dress… Gone were the simple braids and dresses that often got covered in dirt. She was now in the realm of vanity and it made Tarynn a little bit sad.

Bronte uncovered a charm attached to a grey piece of ribbon.

"A gift."

Tarynn sat on the edge of her bed as Bronte fastened the choker around her neck, it matched her other pendants, the locket and shard of glass perfectly. The charm was that of a wolf.

"Who…"

"It came with the note; I took it so that I could see what dress would match it."

"Oh…" She should be annoyed, or even angry that Bronte had taken it without permission, but she was so enamoured with her new piece of jewellery that she couldn't find it within herself to tell off Bronte. Instead she simply said, "Thank you."

Tarynn stood, and slipped into a pair of satin shoes. She was smoothing down the front of her dress when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

It creaked open revealing her father, behind him were Sansa and Arya. Sansa gasped at the sight of Tarynn.

"Tarynn you look beautiful! Doesn't she Arya?"

Arya had been forced to wear a dress made from a rich purple fabric, "I suppose so."

Tarynn looked up to her father, "Yes, I agree with Sansa. But come, we must go join the king for the feast that he has decided to hold in our honour."

Sansa took Tarynn's hand, smiling widely. For Sansa being in this city was a dream came true, and Tarynn had at first felt the same. But the novelty of being in the Red Keep was fast wearing off if she was going to have to attend feasts and parties every night.

When they reached the dining hall, Tarynn was surprise by the size of it. It was huge, a grand table stretched along the length which was laden down with various types of food. People in elaborate dresses and suits were sitting down at the places. She looked around the hall, noting the tapestries, but it was the shadowy figure in the corner that caught her eye. He wore plain garb, a badge of three snarling hounds pinned to his chest. He stood with his arms crossed, but his grey eyes glowed when their eyes met.

Tarynn could not tear her gaze away, the Hound smiled as his eyes dropped to take in what she was wearing and suddenly she felt very self conscious. She dropped her gaze and looked down the table, the king sat at the end, a lecherous grin covering his face when he spotted Tarynn. Her eyes then moved onto Renly, who was politely gesturing to her to come to him. She found the willpower to move, albeit woodenly to the youngest Baratheon. He drew out her chair with a flourish, she sat and he pushed it in before sitting down beside her. He took her hand, raising it to his lips.

"You look extremely beautiful tonight Lady Tarynn."

"Thank you, Lord Renly, you are looking perfectly handsome tonight also."

"You are very kind." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Your father has offered me your hand in marriage."

Tarynn's chest tightened even more, "Has he."

"Yes, I was just wondering your opinion on the matter my Lady, if we are to be bound by the bonds of marriage I would very much like it to be between to consenting adults."

Why all the pressing questions?

Tarynn went for the easy answer, and the one that would buy her more time.

"I will leave it to you to decide, I will bear you no ill will if you chose to decline."

Please decline, please decline.

"I will think on it my Lady, our marriage will definitely strengthen ties, and I will be as good a husband as I possibly can be."

Tarynn watched with great interest as Renly looked up briefly to look at Loras Tyrell, his own squire. It was only a small look, but still it spoke volumes. Tarynn felt that Renly had a secret and one that she didn't care if he kept.

If Renly was to be unfaithful to her if they were married, then what's to say that Tarynn could not find pleasure in other ventures also? It was an interesting prospect, and one that Tarynn would not be entirely unhappy with.

"I have no doubt that you would be Lord Renly."

"Please just Renly, and I will give your father my answer soon. I will also seek you out to tell or ask you directly."

"Thank you Renly, and please call me Tarynn."

Even if I don't marry Renly, which I hope is the case, I am sure that we will have a fast friendship.

There was the sound of someone tapping a knife against a goblet; a speech was to be made.

"Now, this feast is to honour my new hand, Lord Eddard Stark," There was a shout from someone from the far end of the table, "And his lovely daughters who he has brought with him to our glorious King's Landing, Tarynn, Sansa and Arya. I wish him luck in trying to sort out my affairs for he's going to need it!" The king started laughing deep and jolly, his wife was as stern faced as ever however the rest of the table erupted into rounds of applause and laughter.

Tarynn could feel her cheeks flush, especially when one of the young boys placed a flower on her napkin. Her face went even redder when Renly took it and placed it in her hair before kissing her on the cheek; seems that he held his drink just as badly as his brother.

She managed to excuse herself when the jesters began appearing. She had looked over the table at Arya, who had taken to flicking food over at some of the more pompous nobles that made up King Robert's court. She had motioned to Arya to stand up, the young girl had pouted, finishing off the evening by pelting a young boy full in the face with some creamed pudding before standing. Tarynn too stood up, caught her father's eye and gestured to Arya mouthing the words 'I'm going to put her to bed'. Her father nodded and with her youngest sister in tow she had managed to escape the escapade that her father and Sansa were still being subjected to.

"Why did I have to leave the feast?" Arya's whining echoed down the empty halls.

"Because you are nine years old and you need to sleep. I'm going to bed too Arya."

"You're strange Tarynn."

"Thanks Arya." Tarynn sighed tugging her sister along with her.

"No, it's because you're not like Sansa, but you're not like me either. Why do you read so many books?"

"Because little sister sometimes knowledge is better than beauty, and being able to talk your way out of a confrontation is better than fighting."

Arya fell silent for a time, and as Tarynn turned round another corridor she began to feel more relaxed now that the feast was way behind her. She hated the crowded dining hall, and the noise of a hundred people talking at once. The solitary, quietness of the hallways suited her just fine.

"Tarynn?"

"Yeah Arya…" Tarynn looked up.

"You shouldn't be wandering the Keep's corridors so late at night on your own, here allow me to escort you."

Toby stepped out of the shadows, an easy grin on his face but his eyes were cold.

"Toby, that's quite alright I think we can find our way."

"No I insist."

"And I insist that we don't need your help. Please, join the feast you deserve some time to yourself."

She stood slightly in front of Arya, afraid that Toby would lash out.

He glanced at Arya before focusing on Tarynn, his eyes narrowed.

"If that is what you command my Lady then good night."

He pushed past her, the look in his eyes were menacing and quietly threatening. She had insulted and rejected him, just like Theon, Tarynn surmised that he wasn't used to rejection.

She shook it off however, and gripped Arya's hand tighter.

"What was wrong with him?"

"Oh I imagine a whole range of things Arya, but none that you need worry about."

She smiled at her baby sister, and Arya for the first time in weeks smiled back and hugged her. "King's Landing is going to be fun, isn't it?"

"Well if it isn't then we'll make it."

When Tarynn had seen to Arya and made sure that she had gotten into her night clothes and was tucked safely away in bed, she decided that now would be the best time to visit the Godswood, before her father and Sansa got back. She didn't have time to change but she did put on her leather boots instead of the flimsy satin slippers that she had had to wear for the feast. She closed her bedroom door quietly and slipped down the tower, pressing herself into shadowy alcoves whenever she thought she heard someone approaching.

When she burst into the yard she had to gain her bearings. Firstly she did not know where the Godswood was, and secondly she only had the light of the moon to guide her. She walked around the tower, straining her eyes when she spotted it, a thin path set between two stone walls, behind it stretched a small wood. The Godswood.

Tarynn headed towards it, pushing open the gate and admitting herself into the sacred area. The quiet sound of the owls and the leaves rustling calmed her as she made her way to the centre. The Godswood in King's Landing was not as large as the Godswood in Winterfell. However the tree rose magnificently towards the heavens, its white face leaking with red sap, making it look like it was crying. Tarynn knelt on the ground before the tree, and uttered a simple prayer.

"Protect me Old Gods, protect my family also as we venture into this strange place. Show us schemes or plots that have been raised against us before they are acted upon and keep us in your sights."

She touched the water and it rippled and shimmered in the moonlight.

"Tarynn…"

She stood and turned.

"Sandor? It was you?"

"I had to see you, and how can I do that when your pet is always by your side." Sandor Clegane stood with his feet firmly apart, he was wearing just a loose shirt the front of which revealed much of his defined chest. In fact he was wearing much the same as when Tarynn and he met in the Godswood along the King's Road.

"He is not my pet…"

"Call him what you like, he practically begs to be pampered and loved when what he really needs is a kick to send him on his way," He took a swig of wine from his flask.

"Are you drunk?"

"I'm always drunk wolf," He laughed deep and raspy, "Dulls out the pain and the screams... I see you're wearing my little gift, suits you quiet well." His eyes glanced over her rather revealing dress.

"Yes," She brushed the wolf pendent with her fingertips, "It's beautiful thank you."

"I don't need thanks, pretty women deserve pretty gifts no? And you're pretty enough, some may even say beautiful." He took another swig. "So where is your pet bastard? Put to bed with a saucer of milk, or is he waiting in your bed chambers?"

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, "No, he isn't. Why do you think he's bedding me?"

"Maybe because he acts so outrageously in your presence. Never though that a wolf bitch and a lion bastard would wind up becoming lovers."

His comment stung, "What do you want Sandor? Or have you just come to insult me?"

"Huh," He took another drink, "I'm not insulting you, I'm trying to make you see past his bullshit. He's not right for you, his arms are not where you belong."

"Why are you so cryptic? Why do you have to be so frustrating?" She flung her arms out with a sigh of exasperation, "What is it that you want Sandor, why did you bring me here?" She placed a hand on her forehead.

"Because it's where you belong." He took another draught from his flask, almost for courage.

"What?"

"It's where you belong," He moved closer tossing the flask aside, he brushed some of Tarynn's curls off her shoulder and she stopped breathing. She could smell him; his scent was a mix of sweat, wine and unknown musk. It was intoxicating.

"I don't understand Sandor… I…"

He cupped her face with his hand, forcing her to look up at his scar, she could see the bone of his jaw and sections of it still oozed red but she wasn't scared and she wasn't repulsed. Somewhere deep inside her she knew that this was right, but she still wanted to restrain it. She wanted control.

"You belong here, with me." His lips brushed over her cheek gently, his stubble scratching against her skin. He softly placed gentle kisses down her jaw line before pulling back. Her breath hitched as she looked into his eyes, those burning grey pools which she had become so enamoured with. His pratically growled at her, "I want you Tarynn."

His lips pressed against hers, they were so different to Toby's, as if Sandor was kissing a woman for the first time, they were rough and insistent. She stood still for a moment, her mind trying to catch up, to make sense of her situation.

Listen to your heart, just once, forget about trying to analyse the situation.

She melted into his embrace, looping her arms around his neck, he dragged her closer to him and her chest heaved against his own. A fire crawled across her skin when his tongue slipped into her mouth and she sighed into it.

His fingers fumbled at the nape of her neck, brushing the hair there gently sending electric jolts down her spine.

She was going to regret this, if word got out… She could be ruined. It was wrong, but at the same time it felt so right, being here, with Sandor. Forgetting about her duty, forgetting what she was supposed to be.

But this indulgence will surely bring more problems into her life, won't it?

When you play with fire, you get burned.