Sorry for the extremely late update! I know, I'm failing at being a consistent writer.

Slightlynerdy.

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 23.

"Lean against the bed post if you would Tarynn, the corset needs to be tight. We don't want it slipping or loosening whilst you're at the tourney… Your Lord father told me about your episode during the night."

Tarynn had both hands grasping the bed post for support as Tilly tightened the corset, she had learned about what had happened to her during the night from Bronte who had come to her rooms shortly after she had been guided back by Sandor. The girl had been wide-eyed when she had approached her; Tarynn had been sitting at her desk, translating some more of the Valyrian letters, trying to decipher their meanings. The blonde haired maid had spoken to her in a mouse like voice, asking her if she was alright, then the whole proceeds of the night came slipping out. Tarynn had sat there fixed in one position scared and worried at what Bronte was describing; her possession.

"I don't know what it was… I can't remember any of it, I only know what Bronte told me… I'm… Scared."

Tilana hummed slightly before responding, "I've heard of something like this. An old woman back in the free cities gives people readings; she goes into this trance before uttering cryptic messages. Of course she does so for a small fee."

"San… I mean a friend is going to help me decipher this mess… All I know is that it makes my head throb and turns my stomach just thinking about it."

Tilly finished tightening the laces before handing her dress over for the day. It was soft blue satin, embroidered with silver moon and stars. Tarynn slipped it on and Tilana began to lace up the bodice.

"Your sisters are already at the tourney, they broke their fast with the Queen. It would be my pleasure to accompany you as your handmaiden today. Your father insists that you have one. He fears that you will have another of your… fits."

"Is that what he calls them?" Tarynn sighed, "Yes Tilly, your company would be welcomed." With the bodice laced she turned and kissed her serving maid on the cheek. "Well we better join the joyful spectators, lest I be reprimanded for turning up late. Father hates tardiness."

When she emerged from one of the double doors of the Red Keep, several people turned to look at her and Tilly, the whispering began and she felt as if everyone was talking about her. Gossip spread like wildfire, and she was going to berate Bronte the next time she saw her for telling untrustworthy servants about what had happened during the night.

Some gave sympathetic glances, others stared at her as if she was some sort of freak show. Her cheeks reddened and she looked down at the ground, avoiding any form of eye contact. She felt Tilly squeeze her arm.

"Ignore them, come, they may have mysterious ailments also, just think of them naked."

Tarynn laughed, she didn't want to think of Lady Lollys or her sister Falyse naked but Tilly's intention to distract her was a kind one. They walked towards the jousting stands, Sansa was sat beside Joffrey today, and Arya had been left to her own devices. She was to be on her best behaviour otherwise their father would take away her 'dancing lessons'. Tarynn was about to take her place beside her youngest sister when a young boy ran up to her, she turned to face him.

"Teddy? What are you doing here?"

The boy cleared his throat and puffed up his chest, "I have a message for you, see?"

Tilly looked shock, "Where are your manners child, this is Lady Tarynn of House Stark, show the proper courtesy."

Tarynn raised her hand, looking at her dear handmaiden, "It's quite alright, Teddy is Bronte's younger brother. We have met before." She unfurled the letter and read its contents, the message was written out in untidy block capitals, she immediately knew whose untidy scrawl it was. "You'll have to excuse me Tilly, I have some business to attend to, Arya is just over there, I'm sure she will welcome your company."

Tilly crossed her arms and pouted, "I am supposed to remain with you… At all times."

Tarynn sighed, "I'll be only a few moments, you won't even realise I'm gone. Please Tilly, this is important."

"Fine, but if Lord Stark catches me not performing my tasks…"

"He won't, don't worry Tilly, I'll be back before you know it." The Myrish handmaiden gave a disapproving look before moving away to the stands, approaching Arya. Tarynn turned to face Teddy again, "Lead the way then Teddy. Sandor seems to have repurposed you into his messenger."

"I don't mind really, miss. I mean my Lady. He always gives me a silver, and it beats mucking out horses any day."

"Yes well guard your tongue as well, no one can know of Sandor and I meeting."

Teddy nodded, "Your secrets safe with me, I ain't my sister, she loves to gossip."

Tell me about it.

Teddy led her to the section of tents that Sandor had been talking about, just like yesterday he was geared up in a full set of heavy plate armour, an array of lances covered one side of the tent wall. Stranger neighed when she approached and she rested her hand on his nose, giving him an affectionate scratch.

"You know I think he's growing quite fond of you, everyone else that goes near him ends up having their bloody arm bitten off," He paused taking a sip of wine, "I'm jousting that Lannister fucker today, the one that was always hanging around you. I'm glad you came to your senses."

She moved away from Stranger and gave Sandor a small kiss on the cheek, "He proved to be too open with his affections for me, now I cannot stand the sight of him." She swayed slightly, she was still slightly tired from the escapades of what happened last night.

Sandor rubbed the top of her arms gently, a flash of concern crossing his face, "Are you alright, maybe you should sit down." He guided her to a chest, closing the lid. She perched on it, raising her hand to her forehead, trying to push the migraine that she could feel starting to form away. "Here." He handed her his wine skin and she gulped down the warm liquid, it rushed to her stomach but stopped her queasiness.

"Wine really does solve everything."

Sandor took the skin back, taking a swig out of it himself, "So tell me about this dream."

She looked up, "Do I have to? It was horrible, it felt so real and… I don't know how to explain it. My father was there, as was my mother, but they weren't themselves… I don't understand it, but if felt like some sort of…" She looked away, her voice dropping to a whisper, "It doesn't make any sense."

Sandor gripped her hand, "What?"

She looked up at him, her blue eyes widening, "No, no, it doesn't matter. It was just a dream, nothing more, nothing less." She stood, "I'll be cheering for you, I wish you luck and speed."

His brows were still furrowed with confusion when she kissed him good bye, chastely on the lips.

Teddy who had been standing outside the tent guided her back towards the jousting stands. When she reached Tilana and Arya, the jousts had already began and she learned from her sister that Ser Beric Dondarrion had bested a hedge knight who had disgraced himself by killing his horse. Arya spoke of it in such graphic detail that she had to tell her to watch what she said, especially since other noble ladies were looking over at them in distaste.

As the morning rolled on the weather began to grow hotter, servants were stationed at regular intervals fanning the crowds. The jousters were dripping with sweat whenever they pulled off their helms, their faces red and blustered. The last tilt of the morning was the one that Tarynn was dreading most, Sandor was pitted against Toby, and the young bastard Lannister was looking to solidify his vendetta against the Hound by attempting to kill him. When their names were called out Tarynn sat on the edge of her seat, gripping Arya's hand tightly.

"Don't worry Tarynn, I'm sure Toby will be fine. That stupid Hound can't hurt another person or the King will have his head."

Tarynn smiled weakly at her baby sister, running her fingers through her un-braided hair.

Oh my sweet, it is not Toby who I fear for.

The announcer called out their names but Tarynn was distracted by a servant who came presenting her with a platter of fruit and cheeses.

"From his Grace." The servant bowed and Tarynn turned to look up at the Royal Box, the King raised his goblet, a salacious look in his eye, besides him Cersei sat as still as stone, her brother looming over her. Tarynn politely nodded and took a grape from the platter, popping it into her mouth and savouring the sweet burst before dismissing the servant and returning her attentions back to the tilt.

Toby wore shining silver armour, his lance wrapped in ribbons of gold whilst Sandor wore the same grey steel plate, the emblem of House Clegane carved into his shield. She sat on the edge of her seat, her fingers clasped together as she waited for the horn blast that signalled the first tilt to start.

When it did, low and loud, everything seemed to slow down. Sandor urged Stranger into a canter, as did Toby with the white steed he was riding. There was a scrape of steel on wood when they clashed, but both of them rode straight on without a scratch. The second tilt began as soon as the first had ended, both men wheeling their horses around, eager for a second attempt to knock their opponent down a peg.

"Toby is actually surprisingly good; I thought the Hound would have turned him into mush by now." Arya's voice was full of praise, her eyes transfixed on Toby's gleaming form. Tarynn couldn't help but remember Toby's threat from the night before, she knew that the skinny blonde haired bastard wouldn't be able to take down Sandor but she still was wary of any from of foul play that Toby might employ just to get back at him.

The second tilt began, Toby lowered his lance, as did Sandor, but at the last moment before they clashed Toby raised it slightly so that the tip of the lance was directed at Sandor's helmed head. Her heart leapt to her throat, and she thought she heard another cry of fear from someone above her. She didn't look to see who had made the noise, her eyes were fixed on where the lances were going.

It happened so quickly, Toby's lance seemed destined to lodge itself into Sandor's helm, possibly crushing the metal and Sandor's head in the process but what was revealed from the clash was something that she had not anticipated.

"By the Seven!"

Toby dangled from the end of Sandor's lance, grasping at the long pole that was protruding from his neck. Blood was dripping everywhere and Tarynn felt her stomach turn to ice. There were women wailing, men shouting. Sandor seemed frozen; gazing at Toby's flailing body on the end of his lance. Tarynn felt herself stand up and then she was rushing towards Sandor and Toby.

"Sandor! Sandor! Put him down, Sandor, lower your lance!" She was screaming at him as she ran towards them. His head snapped towards her, and his eyes seemed to clear, he dropped his lance and Toby's limp body fell to the ground with a dull thud. When Tarynn reached Toby, his throat was a ruined mess but his eyes were still open, blinking rapidly, his hands trying to grasp the pole that was sticking out of his throat.

"Don't move, Toby, don't move."

She gripped the lance, and pulled with all her might. It slid out, revealing the gaping hole. The lance had lodged itself into the space where Toby's helm met the top of his cuirass. It had been rammed in with so much force that it had gone all the way through. She knelt down beside him, much like she had done yesterday with Renly. A single tear slid down her cheek. She had hated him, the way he would force himself upon her used to turn her blood to ice but she had not wanted it to end like this.

Toby's eyes stopped flashing wildly around, the striking green settled on her face and he grasped for her hands, covering hers in blood. He winced as he tried to talk but no sound came out, instead he just mouthed the words he was trying to say.

"I'm sorry, I never meant… She's watching you… I…"

Tarynn touched his face lightly, the blood was still pulsing out his throat, "Hush, be still." She was acutely aware of someone behind her, the shadow that was casted over her told her that it was Sandor.

Others came to join them, Jaime Lannister went to his knee, grasping Toby's shoulder, his golden hair forming a halo. Cersei Lannister stood over him with Joffrey, her face betrayed no emotions. As Toby's breathing began to rattle in his chest, Tarynn pressed two fingers against his wrist.

"He's gone."

Someone began to pray and she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up, it was her father. Tilly was there as well, her hands clasped over her mouth, her brown eyes wide with disbelief. Others pushed through, tall men part of the City Guard. Ned Stark prised his daughter away from Toby's body as the men lifted it up and moved it away. One death could not halt the tourney, it had to keep going, and people died all the time. But for two people who she was relatively close to, to have been injured, one fatally, in the space of two days was cruel.

She was slightly shocked, she had not expected for someone to die, maybe injured but… She swayed slightly as she looked down her hands, they were covered in Toby's blood and she couldn't help but feel responsible for Toby's death. She had caused this, her and Sandor. The guilt climbed within her clawing at her heart. As she was led away in order to change and bathe she looked at Sandor who was talking quietly with the King. Her father held onto her arm.

"Are you alright Tarynn? I was concerned that you were about to have one of your…"

"Fits? Episodes?"

"Yes. I have been speaking to Pycelle, he has a fellow maester who may be able to…"

"No. No experiments, no strange drugs or tests. I don't know what my dreams are but they haven't harmed me, all they do is keep me from having a proper nights sleep. I just have to remember to take my medicines. Please father, people have already begun to talk."

She looked up at him like she used to do when she was younger, whenever she was listening to him explain something or talk. She felt like a little girl again for those few moments.

"I'm sorry about Tarynn Toby, I know you two were close."

Her thoughts were bitter.

We were, in the beginning, but that seems like such a long time ago.

"He was a member of my guard, and yes he will be solely missed… But we where never close."

There was a shout, "Ned!" Her father turned, as did Tarynn and Tilly. The king was walking rather briskly towards them, his five chins jiggled and his face was red. When he neared them he was puffing and out of breath. "The lad," He gestured vaguely towards where Toby's body had been taken, "He was part of your guard but my wife, she wants him to be returned to Casterly Rock, he was the son of one of her uncle's… I'm only asking because…"

Her father grasped Robert's forearm, "Robert, the boy hasn't even turned cold yet, please, I do not wish to discuss this in front of my daughter."

The king puffed up his chest, obviously not used to be rebuked, "Of course, this must be hard on Tarynn. The lad was fond of her." His eyes turned to her, roaming over her body. "You have my sincerest apologies, no young woman, especially one such as you, should have to witness such a thing."

He waved them off, even though it had been him who had intiated the conversation, Tarynn began to have a feeling of disturbance grow inside her when it came to the king. He always seemed to be leering on women, herself included. With the king granting them position to leave Ned Stark once again took hid daughter's arm and led her away from the blood splattered tourney grounds.

"Try not to think about it too much."

Easier said then done.

Tarynn stood in her bathing room, staring numbly at her reflection in the looking glass as Tilly sponged off the blood from her fingers. She couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that Toby was dead, she had hated him, sure, he annoyed her to the ends of the earth but she had never wanted him dead. The image of his destroyed throat and sparkling green eyes starting to gloss over and dull was engrained in her mind, as was his last message to her.

She's watching you.

Tarynn had a rough idea of who it could be but she wasn't a hundred per cent sure, and it hadn't felt right trying to force out a name from a dying man. She looked down at the sloshing water, now a light pink, and her now clean hands. She took the towel off of Tilana and began to dry them when Tilly presented her a new dress.

It was a simple grey dress, she wasn't obligated to wear mourning clothes, yet she was grateful that Tilly wasn't trying to force her into something bright and cheery. She changed, handing her blood stained dress over so that it could be burned and decided that now would be the time to visit Renly. She didn't want to have to go to the tourney grounds again today and Renly would be a welcomed distraction, even though she was trying to ruin his plans to marry her.

She bidded Tilana farewell, stating rather curtly that she didn't want any company. Tilly had just nodded, her brown eyes full of concern and care, responding that she would tidy and ensure that Tarynn dined alone tonight. For that Tarynn was grateful. She wanted to avoid the inevitable questions that Sansa and Arya would conjure up, she loved her little sisters, but for the time being she just wanted to occupy herself with other things. She didn't want to linger on Toby's death.

As she walked the halls it was eerily quiet, in the distance she could hear the trumpet blares which signalled the start of another joust. Her thoughts briefly flickered to Sandor, and whether he felt any remorse from taking Toby's life. Or would he just be preparing for another joust already? The thing was she couldn't blame anyone for Toby's death, if anyone was at fault it was her, she had pushed him away, causing him to take drastic measures and deluding himself into thinking that he could take on the Hound. But then again people died all the time during tourney's, perhaps it was no-one's fault and simply fate.

Servants bowed their heads politely as she passed but no one spoke to her, news often travelled fast among the servants so they had no doubt heard of her fit, and also of Toby's death. There was solemn tinge to the aura that floated around the keep, the mourning of Toby would begin soon. Since, although he was a bastard, he was still a Lannister and the Lannisters no doubt would make a great deal out of it.

She moved swiftly to where she had been told Renly's quarters lie. She wasn't sure what to expect. When she neared the heavy oak door she paused, taking a deep breath before knocking and entering.

The room was dark, pitch black almost if it wasn't for the slight slant of light that crept in through the gap in the heavy curtains. The air was warm and filled with the scent of antiseptics and the milk of the poppy. It stank of illness and disease, and yet the blow that Sandor had dealt Renly had not broken any skin. She moved closer to the form on the bed, his vague body shape outlined only faintly. She sat down on the edge of the bed and lifted a hand, placing it on Renly's forehead. He was clammy and hot, as if he was fighting off a fever. His green eyes opened.

"T-Tarynn?" He coughed violently and she leant back slightly, noticing a handkerchief that was flecked with blood, she handed it to him. Once he was finished he sank back into his pillows.

"How do you feel?"

He swallowed before responding, "Like someone tried to run me through with a tourney lance… Oh wait… I do believe someone did do that. That… Hound…"

"People get hurt in jousts all the time… We had another casualty today."

"Fatal?"

She looked down at the bed covers, her fingers tracing the jacquard fabric, her voice quiet, "Yes."

"Gods…" Renly reached for her hand, bringing it up to his lips, he mumbled against it, "Who was he?"

Tarynn felt bile rise in her throat as she uttered his name, "Tobias Hill."

"The Lannister bastard? I bet Jaime is devastated, that was his favourite cousin."

A tear slipped down her cheek but she hurriedly wiped it away. The guilt she felt was overwhelming, if she had not cavorted so openly with Sandor before Toby then perhaps he would still be alive today. She should have stopped him, should have given into him… She had not wanted anyone to die because of her.

"I am sorry, he was part of your personal guard was he not? My darling Tarynn…"

Renly weakly pulled her down to lie beside him, the tears began to freely flow now. Cascading down her cheeks and dripping onto Renly's pillow. She could feel his breath on her hair, and then her forehead. His hand came up, his finger tilting her chin up.

She looked into his eyes, they were half closed but hers were open wide. Delicately he pressed a kiss to her lips.

She felt nothing, it was as if she was dead inside, whenever she kissed Sandor a jolt of electricity would run up her spine and across her body. When she was with Sandor she just wanted to hold him and never let go, she wanted to mould herself to him, to be his and only his. Lying here with Renly in a darkened room, the scent of medicines and ailment all around, it felt wrong.

She pushed up off the bed wiping away the tears and trying to regain her composure.

"I'm glad that you are recovering well, please, you must rest."

Renly tried to catch her hand but he missed it and winced in pain, "Tarynn please, can we not talk about this?"

"I am afraid there is nothing to talk about. Now, you must recover your strength."

"I'm sorry, I… You're right, I do not want to be hobbling on my wedding day."

She refused herself the pleasure of telling him that there would be no wedding instead she left, closing the door behind her and half running half walking down the corridor headed to a balcony that she knew overlooked the entire tourney grounds. She wrenched open the doors and went onto it. She looked over the grounds, and spotted what she was looking for, Stranger was stabled apart from the rest of horses, he wasn't a very social creature, and that meant that Sandor had finished for the day. She had to see him, even if it was risky.

She took the steps two at a time before spilling out into a courtyard and sprinting against the length of it. When she reached the beginning of the tents she flat out ran towards where she remembered Sandor's tent was. She didn't even make her presence known she just pushed aside the tent flap and flung herself inside and into the arms of the man she loved.

He staggered back a bit, and she was breathing heavily due to exertion. Tears were also slipping down her cheeks as she clung to him, his strong arms holding her close.

"Wolf." His voice was low and quiet, gruff but tender; she didn't respond instead she just breathed in his scent, the mixture of sweat and wine, of that unusual smell that was just Sandor. He lifted her up, her skirts bunching up her thighs and took her to the cot that was nestled in the corner of the tent. Above it hung a shield, adorned with the pageantry of House Clegane, his longsword was laid on a piece of cloth on a low wooden table, a couple of candles had been stuck crudely into metal plates, they were scattered around the tent.

He settled her down, her skirts still high on her thighs. His gaze was drawn to her bare legs and Tarynn, even though she was in a crying stupor moved to tug down her skirts. She curled up in a ball, watching him as he removed his belt before he returned, gesturing for her to move up.

He laid down beside her, clasping her hand tightly in his, "Tarynn… I didn't mean to kill him."

She turned away from him, her voice a faint whisper, "He deserved to die is what you mean isn't it. He knew too much, just one spill and… I would have been shipped off to Winterfell to marry Theon and you would have been thrown into the cells for messing around with Lord Stark's precious eldest daughter. It's safer for us… Now that he's dead… But I can't help but…" She bit her lip, the tears welling up again as she turned around to face him, his face just mere inches from her own. "I killed him."

She felt him wrap his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, her head resting against his chest.

"Don't think like that, the boy killed himself."

She buried her face into her shirt, the rough fibres scratching against her nose.

Her voice was muffled, "I don't understand why he was desperate to get so close to me, he must have known that there would have been no chance for me and him, he was a bastard, I'm the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, warden of the North… Whatever possessed him?"

She looked up to see Sandor looking down at her, his grey eyes clear but narrowed, "The queen is what possessed him."