What the fuck was he thinking? The Hound lay on his bedroll, staring up at the stars that peaked through the trees. This was bad. Very bad. What had even happened?
He had felt awful for striking her. The second he did it, he regretted it. There was wine involved and she was doing what she did best: getting under his skin. Still, it was wrong. She was still a kid. Kind of?
Then he had felt fear when he couldn't find her. He knew she wouldn't completely desert, but he still worried. Then when he had found her, he had been so angry with her. Angry and worried she would leave for real. Then there was that fucking kiss. What in seven hells was that all about? And why did he want to do it again?
She was so damn soft. She had practically melted against him it seemed. He had wanted to just lay her down on the forest floor and take her right there. Then he had remember that she was the wolf bitch and that he had to be out of his fucking mind.
He couldn't sleep. He had heard her come back into the clearing and settle down. Was she awake as well? He had no clue what to do. He just knew that it was going to be extremely uncomfortable the next time they had to interact. How do you even follow something up like that?
He lay there for hours. He could hear her breathing slow and he knew she was asleep, but he just couldn't. He was torn between just packing up his horse and leaving or just shaking her awake and finishing what he started. That couldn't happen. This was a mistake.
It seemed like ages when the sun began to peak through the trees. He hadn't slept, only stared up at the stars and analyzed. He hated that he was reading so much into this. He didn't forge relationships for this very reason. This reason and the fact that most women ran for the hills when they saw his face unless they were adequately compensated.
Ugh. This was why he didn't typically try to "feel" unless it was anger. Anger was comfortable. Whatever feeling this was, was not. He hated every second of it.
Scoffing to himself, he pulled himself up from the ground and began packing up the supplies. He tread around Arya and began to get her horse saddled up. Once everything was tacked up, he wasn't sure if he should wake her up or just wait. It just all felt weird.
Finally, he just decided to go with it. Act natural, he told himself. But what was natural for them? He approached the sleeping girl and he nudged her with his foot. "Get up, wolf girl," he growled. Maybe it was fine. Maybe she wouldn't remember?
She stirred and she rolled over, her eyes opening to frown at him. Her eyes met his and her cheeks reddened. She quickly averted her glance and got up, busying herself with rolling up her bedroll.
Fuck. She clearly remembered. This was going to be a shitty fucking day. Where did they go from here? He noticed with horror that there was a bruise forming on her eye and cheek. He really was a monster.
They mounted their horses and they took off. The first couple hours were silent. He did not even try to glance at her. He wasn't about to start anything. Look where that had gotten him?
Finally, she must have been feeling the pressure because she cleared her throat.
He turned to cast his eyes at her.
She cleared her throat again.
"Get the fuck on with it," he growled.
She narrowed her eyes. "So... that was a lot wine last night."
"Yeah." That was his best reply. Wow he was a fucking pussy. But what else could he say?
She seemed annoyed that he wasn't adding more to the conversation. "Fine. I'll just say it since you're too much of a fucking pussy. Who's the fucking adult here?" She paused as she watched him open his mouth to make an angry retort. She continued hurriedly, "Last night. We had a lot of wine. Shit happened. I think we can just move on and not talk about it. It was a mistake. I think we can both agree on that."
He nodded. "Consider it forgotten, wolf girl." He bit his lip. "Sorry about your face, little wolf. It will heal up just fine."
She scoffed. "Is that supposed to comfort me? I sure don't want to end up looking like you."
Ouch. So this is how she was going to play. "It's not too late for me to stick your face in a fire," he snarled. "Let's keep going. Find a town and settle in. Stock up on supplies."
"Whatever." She tossed her hair behind her back as she turned her focus to the road ahead of her. "No more fucking wine though."
Deciding not to respond, he just bit his lip. She was clearly embarrassed by what had happened. He was too. He just had a myriad of other emotions as well, many of which he had no desire to even address. Perhaps it was just this traveling with her. Suddenly he knew just the thing that would make things better.
The ride that morning had been awkward. Arya had felt it and she knew that the Hound felt it and she knew that he knew that she felt it. What a mess.
She had finally broken the silence and he had not even thrown her a bone. He had started it, so he probably felt responsible. He totally was responsible, but she could have stopped him.
Why didn't she stop him? That was the question that she had been asking herself all morning as they rode in silence. He did a lot of shit things, like slapping her, but he would have stopped if she told him to. She was sure of it.
Regardless, it was over. She was pretty sure that she had made it clear that what had transpired between them had been a mistake. She refused to let herself speculate on what he might be feeling. They had been a little heavy on the wine and this was what happened. It wouldn't happen again.
The worst part, though, was her emotional battle. She had zero experience with boys. She had spent a lot of her childhood hanging out with boys and of course she was more comfortable around them, but this was completely different. The Hound was no boy. He was a man. Men were harder to figure out, in her opinion.
She couldn't squelch the feeling inside that they both had thoroughly enjoyed the experience. One second she had been raging mad at him, the next she had her tongue in his mouth and his hand up her shirt. That could not possibly be normal.
Arya reached up to push the flyaway hairs back behind her ear. She brushed the bruise on her cheek and she winced. That fucker had a mean punch and she suspected he hadn't hit her as hard as he could. She imagined he could break all the bones in her face if he wanted to.
He would never hurt me. At least not on purpose. She frowned. This was going to be an awkward fucking trip if they continued on in silence. She longed for the normalcy that was typically between them. Right now, the air was thick with awkwardness and she did not think she could handle it much longer. It was making her insane.
The sun was setting and she cleared her throat. "Shall we make camp somewhere?"
He grunted in response. "Fine. Just up here." He gestured a little ways a head.
Nodding her approval, they approached and they set up camp, getting to work building the fire in almost companionable silence were it not for the unspoken tension between them. With the camp set up and the horses watered, Arya was getting restless. She wanted something, anything to make the awkwardness go away. The Hound had ventured out into the woods, mumbling something under his breath.
She stretched her arms and she stood up, drawing Needle . She moved away from the fire and began to practice her water dancing moves, slashing at the air. She did not practice nearly as much as she used to. The nights usually had been spent talking... well, arguing, with the Hound. It was a relief to be doing something she loved again.
She could feel a bead of sweat forming on her brow and she jumped about, stabbing her imaginary enemy repeatedly. Tonight, it was Cersei. She hated that bitch with all of her soul and the regent queen's untimely demise was one that she was looking forward to immensely.
She imagined the queen's look of helplessness and fear before she stabbed her in the throat. "My name is Arya Stark and I wanted my face to be the last thing you see before I kill you," she snarled, jabbing Needle roughly in the air at Cersei's imaginary throat.
A loud snort cut through the air and she jumped. The Hound was back and he was eying her with amusement. "You really think you'll get close enough to the queen with that toothpick and be able to take her out?" He laughed, settling down near the fire.
She felt her cheeks redden slightly. "I'll get my chance and I'm going to stick Needle right through her throat and watch her bleed out. Not unlike what I'm going to do to you one day."
The Hound rolled his eyes. "Then get on with it. I'm tired of your bloody list. If you're going to take your shot, then do it." He pulled himself up and he withdrew his sword lazily. He gestured her with his other hand. "Come on then, wolf girl. What's your plan?"
Arya's eyes narrowed. "Don't play games if you aren't ready to lose, Hound." She brandished Needle in front of her. Was this actually happening? She doubted it, based on the amusement in his eyes. Maybe she could still get a good poke in, that would teach him.
The Hound took a lazy step toward her, his heavy sword drawn and to his side. "You've got your one chance, go on."
Arya charged forward and slashed Needle out in front of her, only to have it blocked by the Hound's huge sword. Gritting her teeth, she jumped around him, trying to poke him as he turned around. Blocked again.
The Hound was laughing even more. It seemed the asshole was back. "You'd be dead by now, wolf girl. How can you expect to knock off anyone from that list when you can't even handle your bloody toothpick."
"I'll... I'll tire you out and then I'll take my shot. All it takes is one." She ducked and tried to jab him again, unsuccessfully.
He yawned. "I am growing tired. It's a bore." He moved forward and slashed his sword in her direction, causing her to stumble back. In a quick movement as she caught her balance, he had approached and knocked Needle out of her hand. He pushed her down roughly and kicked Needle a few feet away, brandishing his sword over her, pointed right at her chest.
Well fuck. She glowered up at the blade just inches from her face.
"I told you, you had one shot." He was clearly enjoying this. The gloating bastard.
She pulled herself up halfway, the blade just brushing her chest. "I'll have my moment," she said finally.
Laughing, he pulled his sword back and sheathed it. He grabbed her arm and yanked her up so hard that her body came careening into his chest. She glanced up at him, still doing her best to glare. Unfortunately, as their bodies pushed closer, she had something different running through her mind. Ugh. She took one hand and placed it tentatively on his chest, wondering briefly if his heart was beginning to race like hers.
He was the one that pushed her away. "That's enough. We'll go find a town tomorrow and we will get some supplies. Maybe then we can discuss travel plans. Perhaps you were right about Dorne."
She raised her eyebrows, but made no reply. Turning to pick up Needle, she settled back down on her mat, accepting the stale piece of bread he had handed her.
Later that night as she lay on the mat, shivering from the cold wind that was blowing through, she replayed the events that had occurred the night before and then the feeling that had transpired after the fight. Perhaps this was just a phase. Something she needed to get out of her system. Perhaps a good fondling would do them both good. After all, they had been stuck together for years. Human had needs, right?
Shaking that ugly feeling from her head, she rolled over on the mat, turning to watch the great man sleeping across the fire. What was it about him that was making her so curious? Was it because he was the person she spent nearly all her time with? Or was it something deeper? Or was she just getting sexually frustrated? Nearly 17, she would be married off with one or two babes right now had the war not started.
She bit her lip. Why was she even thinking so much into this? Feelings were messy. She would rather just go on her way and knock the people off her list. And then what? She could work on finding what was left of her family and then just learn to fight. That would be quite the life.
She stifled a yawn and rolled back over to her other side. Perhaps some sleep would clear her head. She would give anything for some clarity.
The wolf girl was acting odd. Things had seemed relatively normal after their little face off if you could call it that. He stole a quick glance at her as they rode their horses down the path through the woods.
The bruise on her face was still pretty bad. He would definitely be picking up some type of salve from the maester to treat it. Her arm probably needed rebandaging too. For all her injuries, she seemed unbothered by the whole thing.
He was bothered though. He had done a lot of horrible things in his life, but striking her had made him feel like shit. Every time he looked at her face and saw the welt, he felt ashamed. He didn't want to look at her, he couldn't. Either he would focus on the bruise and feel guilty, or he would glance at her lips and feel something else.
Fuck. He knew he just needed a good lay. They were approaching a village and he had a golden lion in his coin pouch that was just singing to be spent on a juicy whore. That had to be it. They did not normally have the extra coins, but he was sure they could spare one. It would fucking make him feel better on the one hand, and on the other, it would reiterate the message that the kiss shared between him and the wolf bitch had been a mistake and related to the natural passions of men rather than driven by something else.
This was what he told himself as they approached the establishment. It was a rather dirty village. The stable boy looked rather greasy and, after witnessing the greedy up and down glance he had cast at the unsuspecting wolf girl, the Hound took it upon himself to see the horses to the stable with him rather than leaving that job to Arya as per usual. He had tossed her a few coins and told her to get them a room.
After seeing the horses to their stalls, he headed back up to the inn where the girl was waiting for him outside a door. "It's kind of disgusting," she warned him.
Brushing past her into the room, he had to note that it was not a high class establishment. It was filthy and it reeked of wine, smoke, and god knows what else. Still, it still beat the ground.
"I'll grab some supplies. Just... stay here or stay out of trouble. I'm not going to be coming to your fucking rescue every damned time you wander off."
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'm going to take advantage and take a fucking bath. No need to worry yourself about me."
He laughed cruelly. "That's where you're mistaken. I couldn't give two shits about what happens to you."
Glaring, she gave him a shove as she moved past him toward the tub. "Right. Well go on then."
Cursing the wolf bitch under his breath, the Hound exited and hit the streets. He was at least responsible with getting some supplies. More bread, more jerky. He even stocked up on a little wine. It was a hard fucking journey and if he wanted wine, he would fucking drink it.
After a trip to the maester, he was feeling pretty damned good. Finally time to fix that itch that had been bothering him for quite some time.
The brothel seemed pretty standard. A few women shot him dazzling smiles as he walked in. The smell of perfume was nauseating. Coughing slightly, he was approached by a woman donning a fur coat, presumably the madam.
"Evening, my sir," she purred. "What sort of interests can I assist you with?" She pursed her lips slightly as her eyes caught sight of his burned face.
It didn't even bother him. He was used to it. "I'm at the inn. I'm not too picky. Just someone who isn't going to be... put off by my... affliction."
She flashed him a dazzling smile. "I have just the girl." She disappeared behind the curtained entry way and emerged a few minutes later, leading a young woman behind her. "This is Starla," she said proudly.
The woman truly was striking. Her hair was long and a muddy brown... like Arya. Her piercing gray eyes were highlighted by heavy makeup. He felt his jaw tighten. No... too similar.
"Uh... sorry. No brown hair. No gray eyes. Just... give me someone else."
The woman seemed unphased as she shooed the girl away and emerged once again with a redheaded girl. "Is this more to your liking?"
He hardly looked at her, but it was enough to know she bore no resemblance. Perfect. The last thing he needed was to have another reason to think about...her while he was curing himself of his impure thoughts of the past few days. "She's fine."
Dragging the woman behind him by the arm, he led her back toward the inn. It wasn't the first time he had brought a whore while traveling with the wolf bitch. She would usually leave, wait outside, or just sleep away from the bed. He didn't really give a fuck.
As they approached the door, he wondered briefly if this was some sort of mistake. Was this totally uncalled for? The woman must have sensed his hesitation because she reached down and stroked his cock through his trousers. "Come on, I'm ready to play," she giggled, planting a kiss on the unscarred side of his face.
Feeling his body react to the whore's experienced hand, he pushed the doubts out of his mind. "Me too," he said, and he pushed the door open to the room, pulling the whore inside with him.
This chapter was a little harder for me to write. I had to do a lot of the inner dialogue that is going through their heads. I have my idea of what happens next, but just have to get there. Classes do actually start tomorrow and it's my busiest semester yet. However, I'll do my best to update as regularly as possible. Hopefully this weekend.
Thanks for the reviews and follows so far and hanging in there! I apologize in advance for any errors. Perhaps I'll have my sister start to check these for me before I post. She's busy too though and I'm unsure if she feels the same way about these characters that I do and her edits might reflect that :) Take care everyone!
-Pawprynt