Hello everyone and I apologise for the very, very long break that I've had from posting updates on this! But I'm back now and have not forgotten about this story. I promise you that it will be completed in the very near future. Also thank you for the support that I am still receiving even though I have been off the radar for quite a long time.

Also I know that the characters in this story, even the timeline, does not exactly stay true to the way that they and it is presented in the actual book series or the T.V Programme; but this is after all just a twisted version of what is my favourite book series of all time and I take no credit for anything except Tarynn. I wish no offence to anyone and I do hope that you enjoy reading my work.

Slightlynerdy.

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 29.

She clutched Sansa's hand and held Arya close to her side when the procession rolled through. Petyr Baelish rode in front, his head down but she knew that his sadness wasn't genuine, it was mock. Behind him rode a train of several gold cloaks, tied to their horses were bundles of cloth, three bundles of cloth. Three bodies. She placed a hand against her mouth struggling to keep in the choking sobs that were erupting in her throat, her father had only taken three people from his own guard with him, Jory, Heward and Wyl. Her heart clenched, it was impossible to think that she would never see Jory's kind smile again.

The procession moved on and the next set of horses came into the view. This time she collapsed on the floor. Her father was hanging limply over his horse's side. His leg at an awkward angle. She could hear Sansa sobbing and Arya asking what was going on. She put her hands over her eyes.

Someone gripped her upper arm and gently pulled her up to her feet. She looked up and into the face of Sandor, he didn't say anything, but it was clear in his eyes that he was concerned for her. She turned to her sisters; "Sansa, Arya, go to your rooms. I will attend father."

"I will escort you there." Sandor stood tall and stoic as he walked with her sisters to their chambers. She sucked in the warm air, steadying her nerves before walking briskly to the horse that had her father tied to it. Gently she touched the horse's flank and it whinnied softly, she walked around it before reaching her father's head. Gently she touched his hair before calling out. "Untie him. He is the Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King he should not be strapped to a horse like this. He needs medical attention." A couple of guards came to her aid and began untying her father from his tethers. "Someone tell Maester Pycelle that my father is in need of having his leg set, I have a feeling that it is broken."

"You heard the woman, get moving men." She span on her heel and was faced with the sight of Robert Baratheon. He was dishevelled, he hadn't even put his crown on, and signs of breakfast were still evident in his beard. "Your father is a tough man, a broken leg is not going to stop him."

"Thank you my King."

"Please," He held up a chubby hand, "Call me Robert."

"Robert." She inclined her head and waited, hoping that the grossly overweight man would just shuffle off so that she could follow her father's unconscious body into the Red Keep.

He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and she stopped herself from shrinking away in disgust. "Care for a walk Lady Tarynn? It is a beautiful day." There was something in his tone, something was on the king's mind, and that was usually a rarity.

"I'm sorry my king… Robert… But I really must tend to my father. Should he wake I wish to be by his side and help Maester Pycelle in setting the leg." She wouldn't ask him, it was not her place to question the King of the Seven Kingdoms what was troubling him.

"Maester Pycelle is more than competent to help speed along your father's healing process. He was the one to train in the Citadel after all. I wish only to talk to you and to see some colour back into those cheeks of yours. You look incredibly pale my dear."

She had no choice, she could see that, he was the king and you didn't go against his wishes or his commands. She nodded slowly, her heart sinking at the prospect of having to spend a prolonged amount of time with him. He held out his arm and she was forced to take it, linking her arm with his as he shuffled off towards the direction of the garden.

His pace was slow, painfully so, and his breathing was heavy and distracting. When they had reached one of the marble benches, Robert raised his hand, waggling his podgy fingers in the air, "You will have to excuse me Lady Tarynn, I am not as fit as I use to be, I must have a rest." He sat down, and began to stroke his beard in a somewhat thoughtful manner, if King Robert was ever to think. "I suppose you have heard of your father's wish to take you back to Winterfell." She stood as still as stone, her father had shared that with her, she remembered Sansa fleeing, crying her eyes out. She on the other hand had been practically ecstatic at the thought of not having to marry Renly. Of being free for a few more years.

"My father had mention that just this past day. Why do you ask?"

"I want your father to remain as my Hand. He is a bloody good one if you asked for my opinion but it seems that now a days no one wishes for the opinion of the fat, useless king. I am going to implore him to stay longer however…" She brushed a lock of hair from her face, watching the king's red face intently, "If my attempts at persuasion fail and if he still does choose to go, I will tell him that he will have to leave you behind."

Her heart turned into a lump of ice, the tendrils spreading throughout her body, her voice was shaking when she responded, "King Robert I am…"

He nodded, "No need to thank me Lady Tarynn, I am only thinking of what's best for you and Renly. I know my brother would be devastated if you were to leave for Winterfell and break off the engagement. He is quite taken with you and that's a first for Renly. He often prefers those of the same…" The king coughed. "Yes well, I feel that I have taken up enough of your time. Please, give me a report of how you father is doing when you see him."

She curtseyed before walking off stiffly, she wanted to break into a run, to hide herself away from the Baratheons and anyone else associated with the crown. But she forced herself not to, she was Lady Tarynn Stark, the eldest of Ned Stark's daughters and she had to act appropriately.

She was heading towards the Tower of the Hand when she heard a low whistle echo across the courtyard. Her head snapped up in the direction that the sound had lilted from and she was half surprised to see Sandor standing behind the gate that led towards the Godswood. He beckoned her to come to him before crossing his arms over his broad chest.

She glanced around at her surroundings, seeing that the way was clear she began to walk towards the gate and towards Sandor, it appeared that no one actually wanted to let her see her badly injured father which she thought was rather inconsiderate of them.

"Tarynn!"

"Seven hells." Muttering under her breath he turned on her heel and was faced with the sight of Renly. He was standing tall but there was a slight limp to his gait however he was still well on his way to recovering after his incident with Sandor during the jousting tournament. His expression was one of concern. She greeted him, "Renly."

"Are you alright, I heard the news about your father. Have you seen him yet?"

"Briefly, his leg is badly broken, I am going to assist Maester Pycelle in resetting it."

Renly pulled her into an embrace, his arms wrapping around her as he kissed the top of her head, "Are you not going the wrong way? Why are you going to the Godswood?"

She bit her lip as she thought of a sufficient lie, "Uh to pray. Yes to pray for my father so that he may return to health quickly."

Renly moved back, holding her at arm length, "Good idea. The wedding is in less than a week and we need your father to be up on his feet again. I will come with you."

She placed a hand on his chest, stopping from going any further, "There is no need Renly. I know you don't keep the Old Gods."

"But I am willing to support my fiancée. Therefore I will join you in your prayers."

She let out a sigh of exasperation, looking back at where she knew Sandor lurked in the shadows, she hated doing this in front of him. She moved closer to Renly and kissed him. His hand reached up to gently touch the back of her head, When they withdrew she spoke in a quiet voice, "I need to pray alone my darling," She gently ran a thumb over his chin, laying the devotion on thick, "Please?"

Renly nodded. She had won. "Of course, of course, I will come for you before dinner. And don't forget you have a dress fitting later today. Tomorrow will be the choosing of the flowers." He began to walk away, "Just think my love, we will be married in just four short days." He called to her over his shoulder as he left the courtyard.

When he was out of his view she brought her hands to her head, burying her fingers in her thick brown hair before sinking to rest on her haunches. She wanted to scream. Everything was happening so fast. Her father had just been injured, she had no idea to what extent as she hadn't been able to see him yet. She was getting married in four days and two days after that Robert was planning on taking Renly, whose ribs were still in the process of healing, out to catch that blasted boar.

She brought her hands down to cover her face, and sobbed, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Wolf?" She didn't respond but she could feel his hand sliding over her shoulder blades in which she assumed was to be a soothing manner. "Come on." He gripped her by the arm and began to haul her back onto her feet, she didn't look at him.

She shook her arm away from him, "I can manage." She brushed off his concern and breathed in the humid air. "I am in a horrible mess Sandor."

He looked down at her, his grey eyes hardening in the summer light, "Your wedding is in four days."

"I know when my own wedding is." Her tone was curt, snappy, a foul mood lingering over her.

It's too much, everything is just too much. First the wedding, now father, and Sandor… Oh Sandor.

"I don't think I can do this."

"No one is asking you to..."

"What are you talking about? Of course everyone is asking me to do this, it is what is to be expected, I am to marry Renly and have his children. Live the idyllic life of a Baratheon wife. I am powerless against it." She laughed in hysteria, her fingers running through her long hair, she was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Tarynn all I was saying…"

"Leave me Sandor. I must attend my father, Maester Pycelle will need my aid and I want to be there should my father wake." She winced at the harshness in her voice but she could not bear to be around him not when she knew that she could never truly have him in the way that she wants to.

"As you command." His voice was cold, calculated, he brushed past her as he disappeared into forest. She steeled herself and brushed down the front of her dress. What she was doing was for the best. If she cut herself off from Sandor, clean and quick, then there wouldn't be a mess later on. She was doing her duty.

She couldn't dwell in the land of her thoughts for too long, she had to see to her father, to see the extent of his injuries. To help him in whatever ways she could to make a swift recovery. She had to put her family first.

"Father…"

Lord Stark gripped her hand tightly, wincing slightly as Pycelle reset his leg, his face was grey with pain. His eyes looking around wildly, not focusing on much at all.

"T-Tarynn... Arya, Sansa…?"

"They are fine and well but worried for you. Now please father you must relax, this will be…"

Pycelle pushed and she heard the bone snap back into place as her father let out a hoarse scream.

"The leg has been reset, here some milk of the poppy for his pain." Pycelle gave her the vial with trembling hands. "Administered thrice daily and he should barely feel any pain."

"Thank you Maester, your help is appreciated."

"I am just doing my job Lady Tarynn. Noting more, nothing less."

The old man left daughter and father to their own devices, shuffling out of the room and pulling the door to a close.

"Father you must take this, it will ease the pain," She lifted the small glass bottle up to her father's lips but he grabbed her wrist, pushing it away.

"No, wait, Jaime…"

"Ser Jamie did this to you?"

"T-Tywin…"

"Father what is? What has happened? Why would Jamie do this?"

"Your mother… she has Tyrion… War."

"Does the king know?"

Her father reached up and gently caressed her cheek, "My darling, no need to worry, I have it under control… Your wedding… You must plan… Give me…"

He reached for the vial in her hand and in one swift motion drained it in one motion before falling into a drug induced sleep.

As she walked the halls in search of the room for her dress fitting, her father's muddled words bounced around her mind;

What war is father talking about? What has mother done? By the Gods, what has she done to Tyrion?!

Her thoughts were a mess and she was paying hardly any attention to her surroundings when she walked into someone.

"I am so very sorry, I simply wasn't paying…"

"Perhaps you should be more aware of your surroundings Lady Tarynn, after all a Lady who isn't graceful isn't really a Lady at all." Cersei met her eyes with an icy stare, "Tell me why are you wandering the halls like a little lost lamb instead of being fitted for your wedding dress?"

"I…I…"

"Oh don't stammer," She reached up and gripped Tarynn's chin hard, wrenching her head to the left, "It is most unattractive."

Tarynn tore her jaw away from Cersei's grasp, "Thank you for your sage advice your grace." Her remark was laced with sarcasm and Cersei narrowed her eyes. She brushed past the queen.

"Oh one more thing Tarynn." She turned round to face her, "Don't you dare go near my husband."

"What are you talking about?!"

"Robert. I've seen how you are with him. Tobias saw it too."

"I would never, no, not with…"

"Don't lie you little harlot. Keep away from him. I don't care how much you look like Lyanna, you will never be able to steal him away from me. I am queen, and I will remain queen until the end of my days, a stupid child is not going to take that away from me."

Tarynn was speechless, all she could do was watch as Cersei sauntered away, how could the queen assume that she was involved romantically with the king? Robert was overweight, a pig, and a drunkard. Besides why would Cersei be concerned with whom Robert had romantic liasons with, it wasn't like she loved him and wanted him all to herself.

Toby was a spy. Sandor had been right. Damn it, why was I so trusting? Rest in peace Tobias Lannister but you were a sneaky son of a bitch.

She ran her fingers through her hair, she did not want to attend this dress fitting, in fact she would rather do anything else then have old women judging her body shape and squeezing her body parts into the smallest tightest fitting dress that they could have possibly created.

She rounded the corner and spotted an plump woman wander out of one of the open doors along the corridor. In her arms there was a bundle of soft white fabric, having put two and two together Tarynn guessed that this was where she would be having her dress fitting, taking a deep breath she pushed open the slightly ajar door further only to be accosted by the sight of Renly.

He was laughing, his handsome face glowing with mirth as he spoke about fabrics with the two dress fitters, "I think that we should have red velvet as the table cloths, white will show up wine stains and I want the after ceremony to be a clean as possible."

"I prefer blue." She stood in the doorway, her arms folded over her chest. If she was going to have to get married then she wanted to have some say in the arrangements.

"Blue my love?" Renly came over to her, brushing back some of her dark hair from her cheek.

"Yes, that or grey."

"Grey? That's usually reserved for funerals. Why on earth do you want grey for your wedding? It's supposed to be bright and colourful, the happiest day of your life, not the saddest."

"Grey is the colour of my House."

Renly took her hand and kissed her knuckles, "Soon you will belong to House Baratheon and our house colour is red."

She didn't have the strength to argue with him, instead she simply nodded, "As you wish."

"Our wedding is going to be the event of the year," He grinned, "Anyway ladies, my fiancée is all yours. I will reserve a seat for you at dinner." He kissed her cheek before walking away, whistling a happy tune.

As she stood on a pedestal in her undergarments, the women clucked over the different dress choices, showing her each one. They were all ivory white, some more extravagant then the others. She knew that the women liked the heavily embellished beaded one, with the embroidered flowers, most likely because it was the most expensive. But Tarynn in the end chose a simple but elegant one. It had a sweetheart neckline and a long flowing skirt, fabric covered buttons ran up the back of it.

"Are you sure you don't want this one my lady? Look at the jewels on the bodice, rare ones, from the Free Cities."

She had shaken her head, "No. I don't care much for jewels and baubles, this one is beautiful."

"As you wish my lady."

As the women cooed over her fitting, tucking and sewing and ensuring that all was well, Tarynn had time to think. She had thought that Renly would have been depressed or reluctant to marry her. The rumours around court had always been that he preferred the company of men, but he seemed almost ecstatic at the prospect of marrying her and she could not quite put her finger on it. Another thought that crossed her mind was that she was going to have to stop avoiding Sandor eventually, she knew she had to face up to him, she loved him and owed him that much.

"All done, you will look absolutely stunning my lady." Tarynn glanced at her reflection in the mirrors, she had grown thinner in the months she had spent in the south though she still retained her curves. Her features look sharper and there were dark circles under her eyes from sleepless nights spent translating the book she had brought at the markets which seemed so long ago.

As she redressed in the light grey dress that she had been wearing beforehand there was a knock at the door. The ladies went to see who it was, returning when they had the answer.

"It is your sister, the Lady Sansa."

"Let her in."

Tarynn stepped down off the pedestal in order to greet her sister, "San, what is it?"

"There is a man in the Great Hall, he is requesting to see father but since father is…" Sansa looked away, tears welling up in her bright blue eyes.

Tarynn put a reassuring hand on her sisters shoulder. "It's alright Sansa, father will recover."

"Well the guards couldn't find you so they came to me, I think you have to deal with him as Father is injured and cannot do so himself, the king would do it but he is apparently bed ridden with a case of drunkenness."

"Okay Sansa, alright, come let us see what this man wants from father."

Sansa was glued to her side as they walked the length of the great hall, the man who had wanted to speak to her father stood facing away from them so that they could only see his back. She cleared her throat.

"You wished to take to Lord Stark? Unfortunately he has taken ill so I am his representative, his daughter, Lady Tarynn Stark." The man turned around, and Tarynn's heart sank to her stomach, she turned to her sister, "Sansa leave us, go to Arya and tell her that I told her that she was to dress for dinner."

Sansa nodded, before walking gracefully away.

The man blinked, his brown eyes confused, "Wait. You…"

"Hello Max."

"You lied?"

"I couldn't have you tell anyone about my… Incident."

He dropped to his knee, "Oh Gods above, and my brother, he insulted you."

"Please stand up, you had business with my father?"

"I… Wanted to join his guard."

"You what?"

He glanced at the floor, "My brother and I barely get by on what we get from hunting, I was hoping to join your father's guard, move to the north, and get a better life."

"I can put in a word for you Max, but know that it won't be set in stone." She appraised him and felt rather haughty of herself. She had changed. Gone was the young girl who longed for adventure; she was turning into her mother. "How did you not know who I was when we met in the King's hunting grounds?"

"My brother and I are usually out tracking and hunting for months, weeks at a time. We hear little to no news and when we did it was only snippets. To be honest, my lady, I never knew you even existed until I learned of your true identity now."

She nodded and plucked at an imaginary bit of thread on her dress, "I will pass on your wish to my father, and add a few commendations of my own, I am sure that my father wishes to bulk up his guard now that a…" She swallowed trying not to imagine Jory cold and lifeless, "… Few have passed on."

Max inclined his head, "That's all I was hoping for."

Tarynn called out to the two guards who were standing on either side of the main entry door, "See this man out." Then in a quieter tone, "Take care Max, and pass on my regards to your brother, I will send word to you if my father wants to consider you."

"Thank you my Lady."

"Sansa, Arya and Myrcella will be flower girls, Joffery and Tommen; page boys." Renly gripped her hand tightly under the table as he spoke of wedding arrangements to the king and to Cersei. The royal children and her sisters were also at the table, Petyr Baelish, Varys and Pycelle had also been invited to dine with them. The absence that her father made was palpable. When she had visited him earlier he had been sleeping, his face free of the usual worry lines and stress, as she had watched him she had wanted to be able to read his mind, to find out what was causing him so much stress and torment. She had also wanted to slice Jamie Lannister in half over what he had done to her father.

"What do you think Tarynn?"

She looked up only to see everyone's eyes on her, "I'm sorry, could you repeat that."

"If your father is not well enough, Robert says that he will walk you down the aisle." Renly grinned at her, his green eyes sparkling in the diffused light.

She nodded, in reality she wanted her father to walk her down the aisle but she wasn't going to flat out refuse a gesture from the king. "Thank you, I am very grateful, should my father not recover fast enough from his ailment."

"Well I think it is sensible that you have a backup plan," Cersei's voice was indifferent and calculated, "You never know what may happen in the space of a few short days."

She was insinuating something, Tarynn could tell by the tone of her voice, she glanced at Renly, hoping that he had spotted it but all he did was laugh and grin.

She slammed her cutlery down on the table, pushing her plate back as she stood up, she went to leave the room but Renly caught her arm.

"Tarynn? What are you doing?"

"Leaving. What does it look like?"

She shook off Renly's arm and his concern before turning and stalking out of the dining hall. Out of corner of her eye she saw Arya stand up but Sansa dragged her back down by the sleeve of her dress.

She needed air, to get rid of Cersei's voice and sneering glances that were seared into her brain, she stumbled out of the keep gulping down the warm air as fast as she could. She headed towards the Godswood. She needed to pray, for her father, for her mother, for her sisters and brothers. For Luwin, Greta and all those she had left behind. For Tilly and Bronte. For Toby and Teddy. For herself.

Once in the centre of the Godswood she fell to her knees, clasping her hands together before fervently praying.

"You are a hard woman to find."

She opened her eyes but stayed where she was, "Why is it that I can never get any peace and quiet in this God forsaken place." The silence stretched on between them, she could hear the crunching of leaves as he paced around, she sighed. "I think it best if you just left Sandor."

The pacing stopped and then suddenly she was wrenched up off the ground, Sandor turning her around forcibly so that he could look at her. She was forced to look up into his face, at the red scar that covered half of his features, "What has happened to you?"

She looked away, "I have given up."

"No. No, I don't believe that."

He pushed her away and she stumbled backwards. "Well what do you expect me to do? Run off with you? Leave everything I care about behind me?"

"You are supposed to care about me." His voice was filled with anger, his eyes empty. "You were supposed to be mine. You said…"

"I know what I said." She was angry now too. "And I do, I love you but that cannot change the facts, that cannot change the situation. I am to be a married woman in four days. I will be warming Renly's bed, I will belong to him."

"Don't say that," Sandor's voice was gruff. "Don't fucking say that. You don't belong to him."

"I don't belong to you either."

"No." He moved towards her, grasping her wrists he brought one up to his face and kissed the skin there before capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

She pushed him away, resisting, she took a couple of steps back. "Don't. Don't… Just…"

"Fine. Fuck you."

Sandor turned then, his muscles tight as he marched away down the path, anger rippling off him in waves. She reached out, as if to stop him, as if to call him back but she couldn't say the words. The words that would have stopped him, that would have brought him back to her, instead she stood there. A mess, a giant hypocrite, she had preached constantly about not marrying and about travelling. About being a scholar instead of a wife and mother. She had lied. Even to herself.

She went to the old white tree, gazing at the red sap leaking from its human like features, she fell to her knees once again and lost herself to the repetitive nature of prayer.

What in seven hells am I going to do?