Chapter 3.
As it happens, Shalene's rooms were located very close to Sansa's. The rooms were pleasant, tall glass doors open to a balcony that overlooks The Keep. Walking to the end of the balcony she can see the training yard. There are several men involved in various sparing or training activities. She watches for a few minutes, no one standing out. She thinks that it might just be the most boring group of men she's ever seen until she notices the tall dark, massive warrior exit the stables. He is followed by an equally massive, black warhorse that looks as deadly as the Warrior. The Warrior moves with a grace and smoothness that belies his size. His long black hair moving in the wind. He must have trained earlier because all he has on is his boots and tight, black leather breeches. Sweat glistens on his body. Shalene leans on balcony wall to take her time going over every inch of this man. She remembers him from Court, so much more interesting to look upon now that he doesn't have all that armor on.
She knows his name. How could she not, knowing who his brother is. She watches him closely as he moves around his massive horse. They seem perfectly suited for each other. The horse is huge, black, ill-tempered with a long flowing mane and tail. His coat is shiny and smooth, as black as ink. Muscles ripple under his hide as he moves about tossing his head, as if daring anyone to venture near. Shalene finds herself wondering what it would be like to ride a beast like that, to feel the power of him move under her as she rides him at a full run with the wind blowing through both of their manes.
Her attention is drawn back to the man. The Hound. Sandor Clegane. Again, she marvels at how like his warhorse he is. He has his massive, muscular back to her as he brushes the stallion. His huge hands move over its hide touching, brushing, becoming one with it. She watches his hands, how smooth and easily they calm the horse. The play of the muscles in his forearms, upper arms, his shoulders and back. He is exquisite. Muscles from years of training and battle ripple with every movement. She can see where the uncountable scars cross his back, shoulders and arms. They are more visible due to the contrast of light scars and tan skin, she indulges herself by taking in the path down his back to his tapered waist and strong well-formed ass, down to massive, solid thighs, equally muscled calves and then to those very big feet. She smiles again, thinking about what the kitchen maids say about big feet and hands.
She silently bids him to turn around so she can finish her visual feast and as one of the King's Guard walks up to him, he does just that. He turns and rests his forearm over the horse's back and stares down at the Guard. He is so tall and overwhelming, he looks down on everyone. She takes the time to look at him again. Raven hair, like hers, only straight. It's thick and long, falling down his back to below his shoulder blades. He is facing her full on so she can see his face. The left side is not un-handsome, good rugged features for a man. She's too far away to see the color of his eyes but she can tell he doesn't smile much if ever and he has a deadly look about him. The other side is heavily scarred, his black hair swept over to that side, to hide the scars, what a shame. The scars only make him more appealing to her. She takes it all in, it doesn't offend her, quite the contrary, it adds to his deadly visage, she wonders why deadly men have such an appeal, but then again, why would she want a man who is weak? She looks at his lips, half full and smooth, half scarred, curious about his kisses, she licks her own lips and continues visually exploring his body. He is just deliciously massive, she thinks. Thick neck leading to huge shoulders. Each muscle is perfectly sculpted and moves so smoothly beneath his skin. Moving her eyes to his huge arms, black hair curls on his forearms, not too much, just perfectly manly, as it should be. That same hair covers his chest, stomach and trails down into his breeches.
Her eyes move back to his chest, she can feel herself breathing heavier as she takes in his sculpted chest, that perfect groove between his upper chest muscles, ahh, he has such tasty looking nipples she thinks, and grins even bigger. Her gaze continues down to his stomach where he has eight hard, bulges of muscles that resemble the washboards that the laundry women use to clean clothes. The muscles at his hips form a most beautiful v that leads down into those tight leather breeches. She skips down to his massive thighs, knowing she'll come back to his "gift". He moves from foot to foot causing the muscles in his legs to ripple and bulge. Back up, yes... she licks her lips again, and though she can clearly tell he is as big there as he is everywhere else, she can't help but want to gaze at all of him. Oh well, maybe a seduction is in order, who knows. Being Dornish does have its rewards. She is so lost in her lustful meanderings that she doesn't notice that the King's Guard has left and when she ventures a look back at his face, she finds him looking as openly at her as she is at him. She holds his gaze for a few minutes, standing up and leaning forward pulling her dress tightly across her chest knowing that he can see through the thin material. She licks her full, red lips again, smiles at him, gazes back down at his cock, which is hard and as massive as she thought. She meets his eyes again, continuing to smile as she slowly backs into her room.