Sandor

"Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell" cried the knight at the door.

Sandor walked in with Sansa in arms and the two maids following rapidly, he could hear murmurs and whispers from the crowd that had gathered –knights, members of the kingsguard, the queen's maidens some knights from the City's Watch and the council –Sandor cursed in his head as he saw how they all tried to get a glimpse of the little bird in his arms.

News from the Wall had just arrived to kings landing. Joffrey was sitting on the Iron Throne, both his legs over the armrest, he was wearing a golden chemise that matched his blonde hair and a crown that was clearly too big for his head. To his right sat the queen regent, Cersei, she had chosen a green dress that contrasted with the color of her eyes and a golden necklace that had enough precious stones to buy everyone in flea bottom a round of the most exquisite whores and even some wine. She had been reading a letter when Sandor had walked in, bird in arms.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked the queen with a cold tone, looking down at the drunken Sansa and the Hound.

"M'lady" Shae stepped out from behind the Hound and vowed awkwardly "Lady Sansa has been sick, she hasn't left bed in over two days" That was partially true, she had been hurting since her last punishment and left only at night to go to the godswood to pray. The Hound left Sansa on the floor and went to take his place next to the King.

"It's true your grace, she hasn't left the room," said the Hound.

"I didn't ask you dog" the king snapped "but still, you should have told me," the King flashed his mocking smile "I wouldn't want my lady to be in pain"

Little shit, thought Sandor.

"Can she hear us? Can she talk? Can she do anything at all?" asked the queen clearly annoyed by Sansa's condition. "News from the Wall" she said; pointing at the piece of paper she had just handed over to the king.

"My lady" said the king in a soft voice " it appears your bastard brother has been named Lord Commander of the Night's Watch". Whispers and gossip filled the room.

"Do you understand what this means, little dove?" The queen's face was locked on Sansa's.

Sansa struggled to get up on her feet, "No" she said, her voice clear of all hesitation and fear.

"No, my queen" said Cersei, her face still locked on Sansa's

"It means the Night's Watch have shamed themselves by electing a bastard to command them" said the king in a dark voice, his eyes filled with joy at the anticipation of what was to come "So I've taken it upon myself to give them they're honor back, I'm declaring war on the brotherhood of the Night's Watch". This time the room exploded with protests and signs of disapproval.

"SHUT UP!" shouted the king. "Unless" he resumed, "the Night's Watch handover your bastard brother to me" his face lit up as she saw Sansa's eyes fill with fear "Unfortunately my lady, as you know only death can end the oath of the Night's watch"

Piece of shit, you can't even handle one Stark brother and now you want to kill the other and declare war on the Wall? You'll turn the entire kingdom against us, thought Sandor.

Sandor could see the queen staring at her son, fury showing in her face. Clearly she hadn't been consulted on the matter, and this had been as much a surprise to her as to everyone else.

Sandor watched as the little bird's face changed and her hands turned to fists.

"Careful now" said Sansa to her betrothed in a menacing voice "you wouldn't want to give people the idea that bastards are expendable, or they might go looking for a new king".

Not a whisper was heard from the crowd in the throne room, they were too shocked and scared to say anything; even Sandor's mouth had dropped open. My words, those were my words in her mouth, I said that, I got her dunk, I called Joffrey a bastard, he thought.

Cersei's face was still locked on Sansa's, she had gone pale but her expression was unreadable. The king on the other hand was bursting with anger; he was about to yell something when the doors flew open and the Imp came in. "I'm never invited to my nephew's lovely gatherings" said the Imp to Bronn, his new sellsword. Joffrey turned to give a look of disgust to his uncle.

"What are you doing here?" said Joffrey, with hatred in his voice.

Sandor hated the Imp, he hated everyone but he loathed the Imp even more. He was able to bring the best of his ugliness and that was something Sandor had never been able to do, and for that he despised him. But now he was grateful for his presence, Tyrion had often managed to calm his nephew when it came down to Sansa's punishments and now he might be the difference between life and death.

"I'm the hand's king, you know, I'm supposed to give you advice, counsel and guidance in matters of the realm, at all times. How can I do that if you keep having this little meetings without me?" said Tyrion, as he tilted his head " you should learn to listen to me nephew, last time you didn't you threw us all into a war"

"Fine then, since you insist on being informed on everything then maybe you should know lady Sansa has called your grace a bastard" Said Cersei with a cold tone.

Tyrion's jaw dropped as he turned to look at the pale, drunk Sansa, suddenly, his face grew darker and his gaze became serious. "Lady Sansa, that's a serious thing you've accused the King of, surely you understand the gravity of the situation"

This time Cersei's jaw dropped open, "are you mocking us brother? I thought you of all people would oppose the idea of anyone touching your precious lady"

"I will not stand here and have my sister's or my nephew's honor questioned!" shouted the Imp "she will be punished"

NO! You can't abandon her now, stupid Imp, it was MY fault, the Hound's hand was stiff and trembling around his sword. One blow and this would all be over, Sansa would be safe, and there would be two Kingslayers in Westeros.

The Hound was about to unveil his sword when the King called him, "Dog" he called, his voice was calm but he could see his hands trembling from the anger boiling inside him.

"Yes?" said the hound. What the fuck do you want now, piece of shit.

"Call on Ser Ilyn Payne, my uncle wishes to see the little wolf bitch punished" said Joffrey, his tone giving away his excitement. Ser Payne was the King's justice, he was the one that had killed Ned Stark and he would be the one to kill Sansa as well.

"No, Sandor" it was the first time the Imp had called the Hound by his name, as if he had guessed what he was about to do "That won't be necessary"

"You said she would be punished," growled the king.

"And she will your grace, but there is no need for the King's justice, any other knight can do the beating" said Tyrion.

"I want her executed!" demanded Joffrey; his voice and eyes were so full of anger and madness he had started to sound like an actual king.

"And I want my brother back, surely you haven't forgotten him, he is the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, tall, blonde, looks just like you…" said Tyrion "killing Lady Sansa will most definitely end in his death, and we don't want that do we?"

"I DON'T CARE," shouted the King, "I want her dead"

Cersei suddenly snapped, "No! He is your uncle, your blood! And you would let him die at the hands of those north men? Those savages? They will torture him, they will set their wolfs on him, I won't allow that!"

Tyrion was smiling, he knew his sister all too well. Joffrey had his eyes locked on Cersei's for what seemed like hours, he was thinking about something, his eyes had grown darker, his face older.

"Ser Meryn, Dog, you will see to Lady Sansa's punishment, both of you" Said the king in a dark voice and shifted his gaze to Sansa "I want her to beg for death, I want her to dream of death, I want to see your hands bleed from all the beating, I want to see every corner of the room painted with blood, I want you to fuck her from every hole in her body, I want you beat her until she forgets who she is, until she forgets the word bastard, until she forgets how it is to leave without pain". And with that he stood up and left the room. Ser Arys and Ser Boros following him rapidly.

The hound walked towards Sansa and lifted her up, "don't worry about that one little bird," he said when he noticed Sansa looking at Ser Meryn. He hadn't realized the Imp was standing right behind him until he said, "You ought to call her little wolf now, dog" and gave him a crooked smile before waddling away.

"Aye. Little wolf." He said, approving of the name.