Sandor
He didn't know what time it was.
He didn't know how much he had drunk.
All he knew was the rage burning deep inside him. The more he though about the letter that was held in his fist, the worse it got.
And the pain, stabbing, cold pain in his chest.
He had long stopped denying that she had written the letter. It was filled with too many details. Things only she would know.
Then he heard it; a small scratch at the door and the soft rattle of a hand seeking the handle in the dark. The door opened and a small figure crept into the room. His eyes had long adjusted to the dark and though he couldn't see her too clearly, he knew it was her.
She muttered under her breath, closing the door quietly behind her. She then crept as silent as death over to his desk, the moonlight filtering through the windows highlighting her slim body beneath her white nightdress.
His fist gripped his glass tighter when the sight stirred him in his breeches. He ignored it and watched as she muttered something he couldn't hear to herself then made a small noise of triumph when her hands found his desk drawer.
Something broke inside him and he stood. The next thing he knew, his hands were gripping her slender wrists tightly, his body pressing her back against the desk, eyes blazing into her wide, frightened depths.
"Come to steal more paper to write your pretty little words for Joffrey?"
"What are you – Sandor you are hurting me"
"I think it not much to how you are hurting me"
She frowned, looking at him like he was mad, "what on earth are you talking about?"
He tightened his grip and she yelped, tears watering her eyes, making them sparkle in the moonlight and she struggled in his grip, desperately trying to pull away.
"Save your fucking lies, I know all about it," he released one of her writs, thrusting the letter in her face, "I know."
She looked from him to the letter, lines creasing her brow, mouth open.
He thrust her away from him in disgust and moved to look out the window, over the rushing waves. The night was calm but he could not calm the fire raging inside him. He turned away from the scene that held so many memories he would burn out of his mind if he could and he saw her read the letter.
She looked to him then with an expression of sheer panic, "Sandor you can't believe this -"
"What else am I to think? Who else knows those things?"
"You know I would never say this – how could I mock you for Hadass? I would never!"
He feelt sick hearing his sister's name on those lips. He feelt sick trying to make sense of everything. He feelt sick from the wine he drank.
"Leave me."
She moved to approach him, "Sandor-"
"GET OUT" he roared, and she jumped back, hands braced on the wall behind her, shaking in fear. Tears streaked her cheeks and a small, strangled sob escaped her. And he almost believed her. Almost.
She ran from the room and he collapsed on the floor. He wept, his fists beating the floor. He hadn't wept wince Hadass' body lay buried beneath fresh soil.
V