Sansa had surprised herself for not getting seasick, despite the fact that this was her maiden voyage. She had found that she loved the sea more than she had expected to. Just having the wind in her face, balmy and warm, and not howling and cold was a genuinely refreshing experience, so much so that she had spent much time on the deck, just looking outwards towards the Narrow Sea, which, by the nature of its name, was actually busier than she had imagined. There were ships of all kinds crossing from different parts of Westeros to different parts of Essos, ships bearing arms, or things to trade, some of them slaves. When Oberyn stood by her, he taught her how to differentiate the various ships upon the sea.
"Sometimes, foolish pirates would attack Braavosi ships thinking they contain coin from the Iron Bank," Oberyn told her. "But they would chance across a ship full of Water Dancers. They met their end soon enough."
The term "Water Dancer" made Sansa's ears perk up. "Arya had a Water Dancer as her teacher before Father died," she told him. "I was still so foolish that I actually thought that he was a real dancing master." She had since learned that the Braavosi Water Dance was a form of martial arts used to directly combat the heavy, forceful way of Westerosi knights. Their movements were languid and flowing, as shown to her by Sarella two mornings before their voyage started.
Oberyn chuckled. "I wonder, what sort of person would you have been in more peaceful times," he asked her with a kiss to her forehead.
"A silly girl with stupid fantasies," Sansa answered plainly. "Even if we had met, you wouldn't even remember me." She had learned in her years in King's Landing that strength only ever attracted strength, no matter the person. Even sweet-natured Robb had readily cast aside his marriage pact for Talisa, a noblewoman who now worked as a healer. They had met in the aftermath of the Battle of Oxcross, where Talisa had berated Robb for perpetuating war and violence.
"Are you sure?" Oberyn asked. "A beautiful Northern girl who is kissed by fire certainly would have been in the center of everyone's eyes," he told her. She could feel his hand moving to places that she could only hope for when they were alone in the privacy of their bed, but she decided to swat it away in a plea of decency. There were many sailors around them, and although they paid her and Oberyn no heed, she did not want to distract them in any way.
"Behave," Sansa said, as sternly as she could, but the heat of his hand over her breast, even if said breast was fully clothed, was too much for her to handle. She could not put on a straight face, to convey that she did not appreciate him seducing her in broad daylight before the ship's hands. She did not want him to think that she was so easily pliable by his affections, and she certainly did not want him to use it to his advantage.
"My love," Oberyn whispered wickedly into her ear. "Are you sure that you want me to?" he asked her, his lips pressed against the back of her neck. "It is a beautiful day, and I have you all to myself..."
It was no lie that he was overjoyed that Ellaria and Sansa had openly accepted one another. However, with two beautiful women between him, he often ran the chance of being nothing but the man between them, as if he was the added bonus and not them. If one did not have a careful eye, they could have guessed that Ellaria and Sansa were the ones who were bonded to one another and he was their paramour instead. Perhaps if they had not all been highborn, that would have been the case.
Sansa blushed, remembering the times the three of them had come together as one. It was an experience that she would never forget, and even reminiscing them making love under the stars made her cheeks hotter than ever. "Oberyn... not here..." she mumbled when his hand got dangerously close to the apex of her thighs. She could feel more than a pair of eyes upon her as it already was.
"Where?" he challenged her, biting down onto her earlobe.
"Anywhere but the deck..." she rasped, almost digging her fingers into his arm in an attempt to stop him from going further.
Oberyn smiled slyly and picked her up almost effortlessly, and quickly descended below the deck, stopping just before they reached their cabin. There was no one there, and it was enough for Sansa, at the very least. Once out of the line of sight of others, his wife grew in ferocity. She brought her arms around his neck, peppering him with kisses, pressing her own body against his.
"Look at you," he said. "You have missed me, haven't you?"
"Yes..." she barely whispered. In the one month that she had buried herself in her studies, she had found herself missing intimate contact. There would be times in the schoolroom when she would try to focus on the lessons she was currently having, but instead, she would be fantasizing about Oberyn and Ellaria, where they would touch her, and where she might touch them. But every night, she could not even lift a finger, much less engage the two of them in bedsport. If not for the chance to actually sweat it out in the mornings with Oberyn, she feared that she would have done something... drastic as the result of the tension building within her. She just did not know what it would be.
Carefully, Oberyn hitched her skirts upwards, careful not to damage the fragile material. She loved that dress. It was seemingly more modest than the ones that he had paraded her in when they were at King's Landing, but where it was cut modestly, it was made of silk of such high quality that it was near translucent. Had she walked underneath the sun, she would have given the world the silhouette of her shapely legs and well-formed buttocks. In short, she was glorious in it.
Sansa wasted no time either. Once he had her where he wanted her to be, she instinctively reached for the laces of his breeches. They had access of each other's nether regions the same time. She had given him long, appreciative strokes, and he had found her womanhood already moist for him. Knowing that he was in a similar state for her as well, she looked into his eyes longingly, her blue eyes glazed with desire. There was no time to lose. Slowly, he entered her, noting that she no longer quivered upon initial contact. Keeping her back pressed against the door, he managed to bring her legs around his waist. Such a position allowed them much... freedom of motion and they had started promptly, his thrusts long and deep.
They let out different sounds. His were muted groans, while she was gasping his name. She knew that it was going to be a quick coupling, for she felt the coil within her already tightened to the point of no return. She clung onto him, trusting him to bring her to that plane of ecstasy that only he could bring her to. Craning his neck into hers, they rode out their climaxes together. Of the many times that they had become one, she felt that she had liked this encounter best. They had been alone, him having her in the corridor, their movements coupled with the movements of the ship on the waves...
Panting, they parted. For whatever reason, she had chuckled, and buried herself in his arms after he had returned her feet onto the floor. Sweet kisses and loving words were later exchanged, and when they were no longer tired from their coupling, he tipped her chin and said, "Avy jorrāelan. Do you know what that means in the Common Tongue?"
"I love you too," she replied. Once, she had not known that she loved him. All she knew was that she needed him, if not for his protection then for his warmth. She had been a dove in a gilded cage, and now that she was free, she knew that she could never be really free from him. She could be whoever she wanted, do whatever she wanted, but she had owed everything to him, for nothing would have been possible without him. The more she had learned of the world, the more honors she had gained, she felt that had he not stepped forward to claim her as his betrothed before the Lannisters could decide who she would marry, she would have doomed to a terrible fate.
"Now, what do you want to do?" he asked her. They had only barely started their journey, and it would be days before they reached their first stop, Lys.
Blushing, Sansa said, "I'll need some Moon Tea first..."
"Well then, we shall have tea, and then, we shall decide."
"What is your price?" Robb asked the Hound. He had come to Clegane Hall with the Sand Snakes as well as Theon, surrounded by the best of his men.
"What do you mean, 'what is my price'?" the Hound asked in return, obviously uncaring that he was speaking to the King in the North. "I'm not going anywhere and that's final."
"That would be an awful waste, wouldn't it?" Robb asked him. It was a rhetorical question, one that did not need answering. "We are in the middle of a war, and you like killing."
"But I don't like kings as much as I like killing," the Hound replied. "I stopped fighting for one king, what makes you think that I want to fight under another one?"
Robb smiled. He never had to sell himself so hard for anyone before, but he knew that it was already a good start for him. "Because you didn't believe in fighting for a Lannister bastard. Your family was sworn to the Lannisters for generations, and what did that give you? You were a king's dog and your brother, Tywin Lannister's personal butcher before Oberyn Martell butchered him," he said.
"I hated my brother," the Hound interrupted Robb. "He burned my face. I'm only sorry that I wasn't the one that done him in."
"I'm sorry," Robb offered.
"Do you know what made it worse?" the Hound added. "It wasn't the smell of my own burning face, it was my father who said that I was burnt by some bedding that caught fire. He protected my cunt brother despite what he did to me!"
Ah, Robb knew what went on in the Hound's heart already. He was disillusioned. He no longer believed in the world, that justice would come to those who deserved it. "Fighting for me won't right all the wrongs that have been done to you," he told the Hound. "But it will at least start healing the wounds that you will have. Kill my enemies for me and I assure you that you will not want for anything in your life ever."
"My answer is still 'no'," the Hound returned. "You can have your fucking wars with the Lannisters, and you can go fuck around with the Martells. Leave me out of it." Obara and Nymeria had bristled slightly at the very mention of their father's House, but Theon held them back wisely.
"Very well, if that is your final choice," Robb said. "I won't be bothering you now, Lord Clegane." Before he left, he left an envelope on the table and signaled the Sand Snakes and Theon to leave with him.
"I'm no lord," the Hound replied, causing Robb to turn to face him.
"Oh, are you sure?" Robb asked, pointing towards that envelope, "Says right there that you're a lord now. Think of it as my thanks for helping to bring Arya back."
The Hound did not pick the envelope up until Robb had left. He read the contents of the envelope in disbelief. It was a Letters Patent. He was now Lord Sandor Clegane. Although it had meant little because of how small Clegane's Keep was, but it had mattered much. His grandfather had been a kennelmaster that was raised to be a landed knight. Now, he was a lord. Of course, if one were to argue, Robb Stark was a rebel who named himself king and he had no right to give such a gift in the Westerlands, but... who the fuck cared? He was a Lord now.
"Are you sure that a Letters Patent could have bought the Hound to our side?" Obara asked Robb once they had left Clegane's Keep.
"The years have been cruel to Sandor Clegane, Captain, what he needs is recognition, the ability to move past the hurts that he have suffered. Show him that he is appreciated in this world, and he will come running to you. He is, after all, the Hound."
"What will you do with him when he comes running to you?" Nymeria asked him.
"I'll let him continue being the Hound," Robb said. While Obara was a fierce leader and Nymeria highly excellent in providing intelligence and Theon returned to being his majordomo, he needed a butcher like Gregor Clegane had been. However, he needed one that at least had some form of underlying morals. Sandor Clegane was the perfect one for such a job.
"I'll give it three weeks," Theon wagered. "What about you?" he asked the others.
"Two," Nymeria answered.
"One," Obara added.
Robb did not join them, because he already knew the answer.
"Wait, Your Grace," they heard the Hound behind them. "I've considered your offer..."
"And?" Robb asked. "What do you choose?"
"Get me men to kill."
"There's a good man, Lord Clegane."
"Varys, I want news," Tywin demanded in yet another meeting of the Small Council, while mentally noting that it was getting smaller and smaller. Cersei no longer sat on it, following the stunts she had pulled after Tyrion's trial by combat while Oberyn Martell had left King's Landing as soon as Sansa was well enough to ride.
Varys sighed. "The good news or the bad news, my lord?" he asked.
"Good news is good," Tyrion offered. "Let's start with the good news."
Everyone looked towards Tywin, who relented with a nod. Thus, Varys said, "We are very lucky that Sansa Stark's wounds have not worsened. She has been spotted in Lys with Oberyn Martell, having quite the time."
"What are they doing in Lys?" Grand Maester Pycelle asked.
"Prince Oberyn likes to travel, doesn't he?" Varys replied. "It's perfectly natural, a young bride being spoiled by an able groom. We all know that she needs some fresh air..."
"And the bad news?" Tywin asked.
"Robb Stark has legitimized his bastard brother Jon Snow," Varys said as Pycelle handed the proclamation to Tywin. "Prince Jon Stark would be the heir to the North, apparently."
"Isn't he supposed to be on the Wall?" Tywin asked. "How is a man of the Night's Watch supposed to inherit without forsaking his vows?"
Varys shrugged. "My little birds in the North said that Jon... Stark had not been seen at Castle Black for quite some time now. He had gone ranging with Jeor Mormont and did not return with the Lord Commander. There are... unconfirmed whispers that he has forsaken his vows, but precisely how, I am unsure."
"I quite liked the boy," Tyrion commented. "He had more of Ned Stark in him than Robb Stark himself, but the poor thing was constantly... antagonized by Lady Catelyn."
"Keep a careful watch on the boy then," Tywin said. "If he ever dares set foot south of the Wall, kill him." Everyone acknowledged his instructions with a quiet nod. "Are there any more bad news then?"
"The Hound has returned Arya Stark to her family," Varys said. "My little birds tell me that he was given three chests of silver from the... Lannister treasury and a lordship."
Mace Tyrell responded greatly to the last statement. "Good Gods, who does Robb Stark think he is?" he exclaimed.
"There are many kings now," Tyrion explained. "And each of them think that they are the rightful king..."
"Robb Stark will find one day that it is easy to win a throne and not keep it," Tywin simmered. Clegane was nothing more than a loose cannon, and he would not amount to much, no matter who he had sworn his services to. "Having the Hound by his side does not mean that he has gained the upper hand."
When the Small Council was adjourned, Tyrion decided to have a word with his father. "Have you ever considered why Robb Stark's been getting so many people working for him?" he asked Tywin.
"He knows how to buy them," Tywin answered. "Fills their heads with beautiful promises of hope, glory and valor. He thinks that getting us out of the way would grant them all these things, but he's wrong. There are forces in this world that have been working like clockwork. Even if he crushes House Lannister, another one just like us will emerge and the same would happen. It is a wheel and that idiot boy thinks that he can stop it from moving."
Tyrion sighed. At least his father knew the advantage that Robb Stark had. "We can't underestimate him any more, Father," he said. "The boy might be green, but he knows how to play on a different field. If he wins too many hearts..."
"Let him win them," Tywin said. "They will break upon the Red Keep like water on rock if they dare to try to take the capital." The Tyrells will have to uphold their end of the bargain, particularly when that little scheming fairy, Margery has been made Queen twice in a row. Their fates were now joined. He would have the farmlands of the Reach salted and burnt down if they ever dare renege the terms of their alliance.
HAN: I hoped you like that little steamy scene, there are more to come, heh heh! (Pun intended)
So, what do you get when a Hound decides to play amongst Wolves?
I decided to take a peek at King's Landing again. I wonder what Tywin has in store for Robb. HMMM.
Enjoy!