Arya had been having the best dream. She had been water dancing and fighting with Syrio and had bested him and knocked the sword right out of his hands. She missed the man fiercely. The dream was interrupted by the whinnying of the horses.
She jolted awake, sitting up quickly. The mat beside her was empty and she remembered falling asleep being held by the Hound. Ugh he must think her so pathetic! He was gone though. She stood up and looked around, noticing his absence more than she would ever admit.
She busied herself with wrapping up the mats and tying them to the horses who were already saddled. She picked up Needle and brushed it off before re-holstering it to her side.
A rustle of branches indicated that the Hound had returned to the clearing. He appeared and he was shirtless, holding a wet tunic in his hands. She had never seen him shirtless before. His chest was covered in dark hair as well as scars, just so many scars. It was very well muscled and Arya found herself staring a little too long.
He glanced up and saw her standing there and he seemed shocked at first that she was awake, and then almost seemed embarrassed. He grabbed another tunic from the saddle bag and pulled it on and began to mount the horse.
"What are you doing just standing there? We need to make serious ground today and get to a town. We're low on supplies, especially with some of us wasting what little food we have left." He had abandoned his embarrassed expression and replaced it with a scowl.
She shook her head and just climbed onto the horse. No more tender moments for them, it seemed. That was fine by her, she thought. The weirdness that had transpired between them made her very uncomfortable. She didn't know how to react. However, anger was a familiar emotion and she felt quite comfortable arguing with him.
The pair was riding in silence for some time and she finally opted to break the silence. "I hope you don't think I'm weak for what happened last night. I don't cry, ever." She glared at him, just daring him to make a comment.
He snorted. "All women are cunts and cry. It's not unusual." He turned to look at her, reading her expression. "For what it's worth, that was a rough situation. I'll give you that."
She shrugged. "Whatever. It's over. Let's just not speak of it again. Any of it."
His eyes narrowed and he shrugged. "Whatever, wolf girl. Are you gonna be talking my ear off this entire day?"
Arya merely just scowled at him. "You're seriously just so rotten." She turned to look forward, not bothering to engage in conversation again for the rest of the day. The pair came to a village and she glanced at the Hound, unsure of whether they would be venturing in town or just skirting around. They really needed to stock up on supplies.
"We'll go to the inn and stay for the night. Get some supplies." The Hound didn't even bother looking at her. "You're my daughter. We're drifting through."
"She just rolled her eyes at him. "Gross. Whatever." She followed him on her horse as they led themselves down into the village.
The innkeeper did not seem suspicious in the slightest. He showed them to a simple room with a decent sized bed and a tub. The Hound inspected the room while Arya took the horses to the stable.
The room was fine. "Get some hot water for a bath," he commanded the innkeeper, digging into his coin purse for another Gold Lion. "That should cover it. I'll need it refilled again later."
The innkeeper just nodded and turned to tend to the tub. The Hound glanced around. The wolf bitch sure was taking her sweet time getting the horses to bed. Damn her. He hated having to be concerned about another person. He could be getting a bath right now... or getting a whore. Actually, a whore didn't sound like such a bad idea.
He cursed and headed out to the stable. A young boy of about 20 was leaning against the stable, helping unsaddle Stranger and Arya's horse. He was laughing at something Arya said. The Hound turned his focus to the wolf bitch. She was sitting on a bucket, telling some sort of story and seeming to enjoy herself.
He narrowed his eyes. Of course she was fucking cheery around other twats. She saved her nastiness all for him. He approached and he kicked the bucket she was sitting on, sending her tumbling off it. "Why the fuck are you not up to the room yet?" he snarled.
The stable boy turned and abandoned the horse, grabbing Arya and pulling her up. He turned to the Hound, a look of anger on his face, "That was completely -" his expression turned to one of fear as he gazed upon the Hound's scarred face. He let go of Arya and backed away.
"Get our fucking horses to bed. We're not paying you to act like a cunt." The Hound turned and grabbed Arya roughly by the arm. "Come on. We're going upstairs and we need to rest."
She ripped her arm out of his grasp, glaring at him, but following him anyways. "Way to make a scene. You're such a monster!" They were walking up the side of the inn and she gave him an angry shove.
He whirled on her and grabbed her by the wrists, slamming her roughly against the side of the inn. "Don't fucking touch me, wolf bitch," he snarled, his face inches from hers. "I wouldn't have to come looking for you if you would just do what you're told."
She bristled at him, although she looked a little shaken from his violence. She tried to break her wrists free from his grip, but he was holding them too tightly.
He laughed cruelly as she struggled. He loosened his grip and stood there momentarily, gazing down at her, pinned to the wall. "Come on," he growled, finally releasing her and heading up to the door.
She was red-faced and looked murderous. She glowered at him as she following him inside and into the room. He shoved her through the door and then closed the door behind them. "The innkeep is drawing a bath. I'm going to go get supplies. Stay here."
She turned to protest. "I want to - "
"I don't give a fuck what you want. You're staying here. Take a bath, get some rest. I'll be back."
She bit her lip and then turned, heading toward the steaming bath tub. "Then get the fuck out of here so I can bathe. I hope Vinny attacks you on your way out."
He didn't know who the fuck Vinny was, but assumed it was the stable boy. He chuckled. "I bet he'll be even easier to hack down than that damned Butcher's boy."
She had whirled around and was in the midst of drawing Needle when he backed out of the room, still laughing. She wouldn't follow.
As he headed out to the bakery, he felt a slight tinge of regret. He did not like that he had to kill the Butcher's boy back at Winterfell. However, the wolf bitch wouldn't let him forget it, so he had no problem reminding her every so often. Why would he give a fuck about her feelings?
He had purchased several loaves of bread and some cheese and jerky. He had a few coins left and he saw the whorehouse beckoning him. It had been quite some time since he'd had a good fuck. The issue with traveling with the wolf bitch was that she annoyed the hell out of him whenever he bought a whore. She complained about having to lay awake all night listening to him fucking. Tough fucking shit. She'd marry one day and her unfortunate husband would have his chance.
A curvy redheaded woman beckoned him from the brothel. "Hi handsome," she purred. "I know just the thing to keep you warm.
He rolled his eyes. Handsome? She must be hurting for money. However, she was quite pretty and a good fuck might help him shake the weird feelings he had been having lately. He took a step forward, when he noticed the Maester's hut nearby. The wolf bitch and her stupid arm.
He turned away from the brothel, hearing the disappointed sigh from the redhead and headed to the Maester. The wolf bitch was pretty fucking lucky. He was spending the last few coins on salve and bandages for her arm rather than a good fuck. When had he gotten so soft?
Arya was in a foul mood. The Hound was stronger than she was and she hated feeling helpless. She wanted to beat him at something, but really all she had on him was speed. She had stripped and immersed herself in the hot water. It felt so good to be washing.
She took her time. She figured he would be out and fucking some whore or bringing one back. She hated when he did that. Men were pigs. She rubbed the washcloth across her breasts, feeling them grow harder at the touch. She had not done much experimenting with her body. It just felt weird when she was seldom alone for longer than it took to take a shit.
She rested her head on the edge of the tub and she lowered her one hand to her stomach, trailing it then lower and lower until it found the next of curls between her legs. She was touching herself gently, inserting one or two fingers in and moaning softly. Her other hand was just brushing on her own breasts. She winced as her arm ached from being hacked open by the ruffians the night before.
Still, she kept going, slowly stroking herself into a state of ecstasy. It felt nice, but it was also a lot of work. She was biting her lip to keep from whimpering more when the door suddenly flew open and the Hound barged in the room.
She jerked up slightly, causing a splash of water, her hands fluttering from her body. She could feel her cheeks getting red. Had he seen anything?
He was looking at her. His eyes seemed to gaze at her body in the tub for a moment. He then scowled. "Finish up and then come eat."
She glared back. "Don't look!" she snarled. She pulled herself out of the tub and wrapped herself in the large sheet she had laid out for herself. The clothes would need washing before she put them on.
She padded over to the bed, where the Hound had laid out the bread and cheese. He cast her a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow at her attire. "Here." He pushed a piece of bread and several slices of cheese at her. "I'm going to bathe and then I'll dress that wound on your arm unless you want it to fester."
He got up and began undressing.
Arya turned her glance away, focusing instead on the food. It was nice to have bread that wasn't stale for once. She chewed it thoughtfully, making sure she looked anywhere but near the tub. She really hoped he hadn't seen her. He wasn't acting any differently, so she was pretty sure she was in the clear.
She finished her dinner and she snagged a sip of wine from the Hound's flask. She lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her arm really was bugging her. She laid on her side, sneaking a quick peak at the tub.
The Hound was in the tub, but he was watching her. He glared at her, but said nothing as he continued washing. My he did have a nice chest...
Arya shook that image from her head quickly. He was the Hound and she hated him and he disgusted her. It wasn't his face that disgusted her. It was just him. She rolled back onto her back and just gazed at the ceiling. Finally, she willed her eyes to close as she drifted off to sleep.
The last thing the Hound had expected to hear when he had arrived back at their room was the sound of her soft whimpers. He had stopped dead in his tracked when he heard that. What in the fuck? And then he had realized what he had been hearing.
The way she burned bright red and jumped when he came in. The wolf bitch was pleasuring herself? She had looked so pure in that tub, her pale skin shining through the water. He hadn't meant to take more than a glance, but it was intoxicating.
He hadn't meant to intrude. He wasn't going to stand outside all god damn night either. If he couldn't fuck his whores, then she could cut her self-fucking short.
He glowered at her from the tub. She had lain down, wrapped in a damned sheet. The clothes would need washing. He laid his head back, enjoying the warm water for a few moments before climbing out. He pulled on the spare tunic he had which was clean. A quick glance at the bed indicated that she was asleep.
He set to work washing their clothes in the tub. He wasn't her god damned maid, but still, he was doing his own so he might as well get hers done. Plus, when she was asleep, he didn't have to listen to her and her filthy mouth.
After the wash was finished, he laid it to dry. He stoked the fire with another log, careful not to let the fire get too large. Still, he knew she must be cold, wrapped only in that thin sheet. Finally it was time to wake her. The wound needed dressing. He strode over to the side of the bed where she was sprawled out, plucking the bag he had brought from the maester.
She looked so much more peaceful when she slept. Her eyes were closed and her lips parted ever so slightly. One hand was splayed across the bed, the other resting on her chest. She was whispering in her sleep and a smile crossed her lips. "Mmm... yes..." she was whispering.
He felt his cock stiffen a little. Was she dreaming a continuation of what had happened in the tub? He watched her for a moment, when he realized what he was doing. Get a hold of yourself, dog. He couldn't believe himself.
Before he hesitated again, he grabbed her shoulder and gave her a shake. "Get up."
She stirred and frowned, but did not wake.
He was losing patience. He was angry at the wolf bitch for the effect she unknowingly had on him. He touched a piece of her hair that had fallen in her face, brushing it back. He then grabbed a whole hank of hair and pulled roughly.
She woke with a yelp of pain and frantically thrashed, reaching for Needle. She then saw him and her look of confusion and panic turned to disdain. "Fuck you!"
"I said get up," he snarled. "I need to clean your arm, wolf girl."
She still looked sleepy and made no retort. "You could be gentle."
He made no reply. He grabbed her arm and pulled the sheet down that was covering her slightly.
She bristled and she adjusted the sheet angrily, covering herself up and scowling at him.
Saying nothing, he began to inspect the wound. It wasn't too deep, luckily. He offered her the flask of wine, which she accepted. He then began to apply the salve, tenderly rubbing it into the arm.
Arya winced, involuntarily pulling her arm slightly, but his grip was much too strong.
"Stay still," he growled.
She did.
He finished rubbing in the salve and then began to wrap the bandage around the arm. "We'll have to change this tomorrow and every morning for the next few days."
"Fine." She was not longer glaring at him, but instead staring at the floor, biting her lip from the pain.
The Hound finished with the bandaging and lifted her arm up to examine his work. It seemed acceptable. He let his hands slide down her arm, their fingers briefly touching. He jumped slightly at the contact, as did she. He immediately snatched his hand away, standing.
"Go back to sleep. We're leaving when the sun rises." He moved around the bed and lay on the other side, pulling a blanket on over him.
"Thank you," she called weakly, rolling over and turning to watch him from her side of the bed.
He merely growled in reply, turning to stare at the ceiling.
She said nothing at first, but then began reciting the list. The end name, she again paused, but still whispered, "The Hound."
I'm hoping to write more this weekend and into next week, but with classes starting, it will be difficult. Don't worry, I'm not abandoning this (I know how frustrating that is!)
Take care and happy reading, my friends!
-Pawprynt