There was a cocktail party at the Lannister's residence (Casterly Rock) in Lannisport, which for the Baratheon/Lannister family meant a little trip from the city of King's Landing to the other side of the country. Sandor hated to travel. For him, travelling meant too many people going from one place to the other and annoyingly moving around, unbearable chaos with luggage, and a great deal of work taking care of the security, and too many fucking hours stuck inside a jet. Sandor hated to fly, he hated sitting there for hours with nothing to do and having to deal with Joffrey's incessant babbling. The perks of it, on the other hand, was that he was served good alcohol during the flight and sometimes he could just doze off for a nap.

But he did not sleep on that flight. It had nothing to due with Joffrey's usual babbling, because that day his young boss was paying absolutely no attention to him. For once, Joffrey was silent, focused on the laptop that rested on his knees. Judging by the annoyed expression in his face, Sandor could guess that he was working on his campaign and was probably trying to find out the moves and intentions of his opponent, Robb Stark. Joffrey hadn't mentioned the campaign again during the entire week, neither had he addressed the incident with his fiancée. Everybody seemed to just have forgotten about it, but Sandor hadn't. He had seen hundreds of people being beaten and killed, but none of them had shocked him at all or stayed in his memory as if permanently recorded there. But seeing his boss striking his future wife like that, for a thing that wasn't even her fault... Sandor didn't know why it was bothering him, but it did. He was sitting in front of Joffrey in the jet, their seats facing each other. Sansa Stark was sitting between Joffrey and the window, in a diagonal position from Sandor. She had tried to read a book at first but it had soon bored her, and she was now listening to music on her iPod and was looking out of the window absent-mindedly, her gaze lost in the immensity of the horizon above the clouds.

She's a little bird, he thought when he saw her like that. Her head full of songs and desires of flying in the sky.

Sandor spent almost the entire flight watching the young woman with his head resting on the seat behind him. There was something about her that awoke his curiosity. She stirred something else in him too, or he wouldn't have felt so angry when he saw the way she was treated the other day; what it was that provoked that anger, he didn't know. He was very confused. He decided not to think and he just looked at her. The bruise that had been present of her cheek had already disappeared with the help of make-up and healing, and the girl looked as beautiful as ever.

He had to stop looking at her when Joffrey decided to snap his laptop shut, put it aside, and turned his attention to her. Sandor could still see them from his peripheral vision, and he saw that Joffrey took Sansa's chin with his hand, which made the girl snap out of her daydreaming and look at him. She didn't protest at all when her fiancé leaned in and kissed her.

That alone bothered Sandor a great deal, and he moved in his seat uncomfortably, took the glass of wine he had been served earlier and swallowed it all down in a single gulp.

Fucking stupid woman.

Had she already forgiven the asshole? Had she already forgotten, perhaps? Had she no dignity?

It's most likely that she prefers to shut up about it instead of leaving the little shit and losing all that money and power.

Sandor was seriously starting to think, without a question, that Sansa Stark was like every other woman that he had met in his life. A fucking gold-digger.

He really wished that he could have another sip of wine, but he had finished it all, and he was not supposed to get drunk. he might be on a jet, but he was still on working hours.

He tried to take a small nap instead. Maybe that would help him relax before landing...

Fuck, he really wanted to get off that jet.

He got his wish hours later. There was a limo waiting for them in the runway, sent by Tywin Lannister to take them to Casterly Rock. It wasn't a long ride, but it was less quiet than the flight had been, because Tommen and Myrcella were excited about visiting their grandfather's house. They were fourteen and seventeen years old respectively, and the last time that they had been at that place they had been very young. Sandor remembered because it was the last time that he had been there as well.

He had grown up in the suburbs of Lannisport, in a big house right outside of the main part of the city. When he had to leave his house, the only time that he spent in that damn city was when he entered the service of the Lannister family and had to be in Casterly Rock. He had not missed that place that was so close to the place that he had never been able to properly call home. The memories that it brought back to his mind were not pleasant at all.

Casterly Rock was a huge and very antique mansion that had been property of the Lannister family for centuries. It was a Renaissance styled mansion (it was really more of a palace than a mansion), and it was undeniable that it was impressive. It practically shouted to the winds proclaiming the wealth that that family possessed. Sandor saw Sansa Stark eyeing mansion/palace in awe, and her eyes shone like diamonds when she saw the interior of the place later.

I guess it's tempting enough for everybody...

They were received by a butler and servants and maids that took them to their rooms. Sandor had a few hours to rest in the room that he was always assigned before he had to get ready for the party. He looked around the place, finding it almost exactly as the last time that he was there. It wasn't one of the biggest rooms in Casterly Rock, but for him it was enough, being twice the size of any normal person's bedroom in their homes.

The motive of the party was the celebration of Tywin Lannister's birthday. The man wasn't much of a party person, but every year his family insisted on throwing a party and inviting everyone of the high society of the country. Sandor hated everything. He hated the place, he hated those parties, and he hated those people.

Casterly Rock was exquisitely decorated for the party. There were elegant ice statues of beautiful shapes, magnificent chandeliers illuminating each and every room, and the garden was perfectly decorated with bushes of roses and peacocks running around. The soft and delicate music of a violin filled the mansion, and everybody was enjoying themselves while chatting, eating the delicious food, and drinking the finest wine and champagne.

Sandor was not meant to enjoy the party. He didn't even mean to do that. He had to stay the whole time nearby Joffrey to make sure that the young man was safe during the entire time. He stood behind the young Governor dressed in his bodyguard uniform, paying constant attention to everything that was happening in their surroundings and the people and their constant chattering. Many would think that that mansion was a perfectly safe place, but Sandor had heard many times of people murdered in their own homes during their own parties, so he couldn't afford letting his guard down. He wasn't there to party, he was there to keep his boss alive from any threat possible, and he disn't give a fuck if people called him paranoid and that moment.

Fuck it, I'm getting paid for this shit, he thought as his eyes observed everyone, checking if anything was out of place.

He saw some people that he recognized. There were all the Lannisters, of course, all golden-haired and green-eyed and perfect and rich and extremely arrogant and annoying. There were all kinds of high-rank politicians whose names Sandor dis not know, and there were the Tyrells. He saw Mace Tyrell, the Governor of the State of the Reach. He also saw the Governor's sons: Wyllas, a former football star that was severely injured in a game and could not okay anymore; Garlan, a successful businessman; and Loras, the spoiled supermodel. At that moment, all for Tyrells were sharing a conversation with Senator Kevan Lannister, and Sandor could not care less about what they were talking about.

He also saw Sergeant Major Jaime Lannister, the golden boy who had been the war hero. He was talking with his twin sister Cersei a few feet away from where Joffrey and Sandor were standing. Sandor took his attention away from them when he noticed someone else approaching Joffrey, and he saw that it was Tywin Lannister himself.

I'm surrounded by fucking Governors tonight, Sandor couldn't help but thinking as soon as he saw him.

Tywin Lannister was the proud Governor of the State of Westerlands, and he was a very powerful, influential and wealthy man. He was also considered by many as being dangerous. Age had not taken any of the intimidating aura that he had always had away from him, and everybody treated him with respect and admiration. He had been Vice President once, and then had a very influential position of power during the Dictatorship many years ago, but he had eventually helped in the fight against Dictator Aerys Targaryen. However, that didn't help him win the Presidential elections that were held later, which he lost to Robert Baratheon.

"Grandfather!" Joffrey exclaimed, greeting his grandfather. Tywin greeted him back, and completelly ignored Sandor; the bodyguard was fine with that, he didn't want to say hello anyways. "Wonderful party, as always!"

"Just another tedious night to remind me that years pass by," Tywin said in a serious voice. As stated before, he wasn't a very joyful person, "but time still cannot manage to defeat me."

"I can see that," Joffrey agreed. He had out on his mask of being a charming and polite young man, which he did whenever he wanted something or just get on the good side of someone.

"Did you come alone? Or are you finally going to introduce me to that future wife of yours?" Tywin asked then, suddenly sounding a bit more interested in talking with his grandson. Joffrey nodded.

"She came with me!" he said, a big smile crossing his handsome face. "Of course, you could have met her much earlier if you came to visit us more often in King's Landing."

"I have much work to do here, there is no time for trips and visits" Tywin said, keeping his face as serious and expressionless as before. If Sandor dent know better, he could have sworn that the man's face was carved in stone. Maybe that was why he seemed so intimidating to many people. The man moved his head to both his sides as if looking for someone in the crowd. "You said that your fiancée is here. May I ask where? Or have you already lost her?"

Joffrey forced a laugh. "No, she's upstairs in the guest room that was assigned to her, she should be coming down at any second now. You know how women are getting dressed and ready... Ah, there she is! Sansa!"

Sandor couldn't stop himself and, acting against what his brain was telling him to do, he turned his head in the direction in which Joffrey was shouting, which was the marble staircase covered in a red carpet. Practically without noticing what he was doing, he stared in awe at what he saw.

The young woman looked like a goddess walking down the carpeted staircase. She was wearing a black cocktail dress with a body-tight top that allowed others to admire her perfect figure. The sweetheart neckline was the perfect mix of sensual and elegant, and the skirt was long and made of black feathers. It had an opening on the side, which revealed her long leg. Along with that dress, Sansa wore simple black heals that didn't take attention away from the dress and very small diamond earrings, with a matching diamond necklace that had most likely been a gift from her fiancé.

Sansa heard Joffrey calling for her and approached them as soon as she saw him standing among the crowd. As she was walking towards them, Sandor realized that he was staring and quickly took his eyes away from her.

Fuck!

Sansa arrived at Joffrey's side and took the hand that he was offering. She had a radiant smile on her face, and Sandor was amazed to see how radically she could change. She hadn't spoken to her fiancé in a week after that incident when Joffrey got upset after reading the news of Governor Robb Stark running for President. Now, however, Sansa seemed like the happiest woman in the world. Joffrey led her in front of his grandfather, who was eyeing the young beauty with slight interest, though it was a different kind of interest than all the other men had when they saw Sansa.

"Sansa, I would like to introduce you to my grandfather, Governor Tywin Lannister. Grandfather, this is Sansa Stark, my fiancée."

Tywin took Sansa's hand and politely kissed it. She kept smiling radiantly.

"Pleasure to meet you, Governor," she said.

"The pleassure is mine, I have wanted to meet Joffrey's future wife for quite some time now. I must say, you are far lovelier in person. My grandson is a lucky man."

Indeed he is, Sandor thought bitterly when he heard those words coming out of Tywin Lannister's mouth.

"Well, I'm a very lucky woman to have him," Sansa replied then, and she turned her head to the side to smile at Joffrey. Sandor thought he was going to get sick right there and then. So much hypocrisy and lies! He couldn't stand it. He felt uncomfortable and had to resist the urge to snort in front of them.

He was lucky and he dent have to listen to any more of that bullshit, because at that precise moment a woman's voice raised above everyone else's, and they all turned in her direction.

"Sansa!"

A woman in her thirties, beautiful with dark hair a little under her shoulder and matching dark eyes and wearing a short and tight red dress and scandalous black stilettos approached them, smiling happily. Sansa smiled just as happily when he saw her, and both women hugged each other when the other woman reached Sansa.

"Shae!"

Sandor was beginning to wonder who that woman was when a very familiar person appeared, and he frowned, not appreciating the new company. It wasn't as if he could complain, anyways...

A very short man appeared behind the woman that seemed to be good friends of Sansa Stark. Judge Tyrion Lannister. Neither his father Tywin nor his nephew Joffrey seemed to appreciate his company as well, but they didn't say anything against it. Tyrion looked at both of them with a sarcastic smile that characterized him. He was holding a cup of champagne in his right hand, and he took a quick sip from it. He didn't seem to be drunk... yet.

"Ah, my dear nephew!" he exclaimed when he set his eyes on Joffrey. "It's been a long time! Haven't you missed me?"

"Not particularly, no," Joffrey answered right away.

"Neither did I," Tyrion said, still smiling, and this time it was genuine. He looked at Sansa then. "Dear Sansa, as beautiful as ever! It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Mr. Lannister," she said.

"I've told you a thousand times, call me Tyrion. Father, you seem awfully quiet. Aren't you enjoying the party?"

Tywin had his lips tight together, an expression of annoyance quickly taking over his face as he looked down at his youngest son, whom he believed to be the disgrace of the family for no apparent reason. Sure, Tyrion had been quite the irresponsible fellow in the past, but that had changed quickly. As far as Sandor knew, the reason for that change in Tyrion Lannister's behavior was (apart from not negatively affect his job as a judge) his second wife... Who must be the woman in the red dress and scandalous stilettos. Sandor had also heard that Tywin Lannister liked his second daughter-in-law as little as he did the first one, and that was confirmed with the deadly glares the man was shooting at the woman, Shae.

"Did you already know each other?" he asked, speaking slowly, to Sansa after seeing how friendly both women had acted.

"Yes!" the redhead said with much enthusiasm. "We worked together last year."

"Worked together?"

"Remember that my wife is an actress, Father?" Tyrion asked then, putting especial emphasis on the word actress. He knew that it made Tywin particularly mad, because he had always wanted his sons to marry important women of the high society. Instead, his elder son had not married at all, and his youngest had married an actress. Only Cersei had married as he had wanted and become the First Lady. "Well, she starred in the same movie in which Sansa had the main role."

"Yes, I remember now" Tywin said, not sounding any more happier than he had before. His eyes moved back to Sansa. "I never watched the movie myself, I'm not much of a movies person. But I did hear that it was quite popular."

Sansa blushed, becoming even more lovely than she already was before. It seemed incredible that she could be shy, but there was also certain pride in her eyes. She nodded.

"Yes, it was... It was very popular internationally, I wasn't expecting that. I just wanted to give it a try, and it turned out very well," she said, shrugging afterwards. Joffrey put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Behind them, Sandor frowned again upon that sight.

"She's nominated for Best Actress and Best Original Song in the Oscar Awards," Joffrey announced. Sansa turned to even a deeper shade of red and lowered her head a little. Judge Tyrion raised his eyebrows, impressed after hearing the news.

"Well, that's wonderful, my dear!" he exclaimed, and he raised his glass of champagne. "Let's drink to that!" right after finishing speaking, he took the glass to his mouth and drank everything in a single gulp. His father shot a disapproving look at him and Tyrion saw it, but he didn't care. He never cared about anything concerning his father or his opinions about him. He was too used to them being bad. "Well, now if you don't mind, me and my wife are going to go and enjoy the party. I need another drink, and I see the Westerlings coming this way. I never liked them much, particularly the wife. She has such an horrendous character, I can see why you get along with her well, Father!"

And after that last insulting statement towards Governor Tywin, Judge Tyrion and his wife Shae left after the woman quickly said goodbye to Sansa. The faint shadow of a smile appeared in the corner of Sandor's mouth. He had to admit that sometimes, on counted occasions, he liked the Imp. He studied the faces of the two Governors and the little superstar, and he was amused to see the almost enraged expression in Tywin's usually expressionless face. But the Westerlings were, in fact, approaching him, apparently with the intention of speaking with him and congratulate him for his birthday. He sighed and looked at Joffrey and Sansa. Sandor remained, as expected, invisible behind them.

"I'll talk to you later" he said before he left them there to go and meet the Westerling family.

Sandor thought that at last he would have a little rest from listening to tedious conversation between his boss and other people, seeing that after everybody had left, Joffrey and Sansa hadn't exchanged a single word o even a look between themselves, just like they had in the plane. However, that silence was interrupted by a cheerful voice.

"There are the lovebirds!"

Sandor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Not him... he pleaded. It was on occasions like that that he hated to be working as a Bodyguard for Joffrey Baratheon and wished that he could send everything and everyone to hell. He opened his eyes again, and saw Governor of the State of Stormlands (yes, another Governor in the family!) Renly Baratheon. He was dressed in the most extravagant way, with a suit of bright green velvet and looking as happy as a little boy in Halloween eating candy. For Sandor's relief and amusement, he saw that Joffrey was not happy about his uncle's presence either. Sansa seemed indifferent.

"Uncle Renly" Joffrey said, looking up and down Renly's attire, clearly not approving of the brightness of the color. Not that Renly wasn't well-dressed, he always was. The problem was that it was always too much for everyone else.

Except for Loras Tyrell, clearly.

"Sansa, you look beautiful!" Renly exclaimed, admiring her beauty and her dress. He might be gay (though not officially), but he could perfectly tell when a woman was beautiful. He wasn't an idiot.

Sansa smiled sweetly, and thanked him for the compliment. Then Joffrey spoke.

"Have you come alone?" he asked to his uncle. Sandor could have choked if he had been drinking something at that moment, because he understood exactly what that question really meant: "Have you come with your wife, who I am fucking every now and then?"

Sandor might not have the best values in the world, and he might not be a very decent or even nice person, but he knew when something lacked respect. And that question lacked respect everywhere, not towards Renly, who didn't give a fuck who his wife fucked or didn't fuck, but towards Sansa.

Renly shook his head. "As a matter of fact, I didn't. My wife is here, somewhere..."

"Are you talking about me, darling?"

Sandor clenched his jaw when he saw the woman, Margaery, standing beside her husband. She was wearing probably the most indecent dress of the party, of a matching green color with Renly's attire, and so low cut that it left no space for imagination.

As soon as he saw her, Joffrey grinned somewhat maliciously, and Margaery returned that same mischievousness through her eyes. Renly didn't seem to notice, and if he did he didn't care. Sandor was more interested in Sansa's reaction, and he was disappointed when he saw that she seemed clueless to what was going on in there.

"Yes, darling," Renly replied then. "My nephew here had just asked me if I had come alone, and I was letting him know that I have the blessing of your company tonight. I believe you haven't met his fiancée, Sansa Stark."

"No, I haven't!" Margaery said in a singsong voice. "You are the singer, isn't that right? Oh, it's so nice to meet you! Joffrey has told me so much about you..."

Oh, for fuck's sake!, Sandor mentally shouted. He hoped to see a hint of understanding in Sansa's eyes, a bit of anger, or a hint that she was upset, but no! The fucking singer seemed as clueless and before, and Sandor thought that she smiled stupidly.

That girl is a bloody idiot!

"That's very nice," was what the girl said instead, and it seemed like she really meant it. "You are Margaery Tyrell, of course. I love your designs, they are wonderful."

"I think the same of your music too! And your movie, oh, it brought tears to my eyes! It was so emotional, so beautiful!"

What brought tears to your eyes was knowing that she would marry the future President, not you, Sandor wanted to say, but he kept it for himself.

"This is great. I love your performances, and you love my designs. I think we will be great friends!" Margaery exclaimed in a happy tone, making it seem like a great idea for a moment. Sansa smiled back to her.

"Yes, I'm sure of that," she nodded.

"Darling, we need to go and say hello to our gracious host!" Renly exclaimed then, looking at Tywin Lannister across the room. "We don't want to seem impolite, right? Besides, I need to delight myself by reminding him yet again that he is getting old!"

After they left, Joffrey turned around to look at Sansa, who had been left alone with him.

"I'm afraid I need to leave you too for a moment. There are some things that I must discuss with my uncle Kevan."

She nodded, not minding her fiancé's absence. Quite the contrary, she seemed rather happy about it.

"Fine," she said. "I'll go with Shae. I see that your uncle Tyrion has left her a little bit unattended now."

"Perfect then, I'll look for you after I'm done," Joffrey agreed, and then he turned to leave. Sandor started following him, but Joffrey stopped him. "Go and enjoy the party, Clegane, you've already done enough for the night. I'll find Boros if I need him."

Sandor bowed his head a bit, making it seem like he was saying thank you for that, when in reality he would have preferred to go with his boss than being left alone to do nothing in the middle of that crowd that he disliked. Joffrey left, and he turner around. He expected to find the Stark girl still behind him, but she wasn't there anymore; she had already left to find her friend, the actress. Sandor sighed.

I need wine.

He went to fetch some. He walked towards one of the tables where the drinks were being served and he ignored the glasses of champagne, and instead served himself a cup of one of the best wine's in the world, Arbor Gold. He made and effort not to swallow it all at once, but it was difficult. Lately, he felt altered very easily, and it wasn't about to get any better. He knew that as soon as he saw one of the people that was standing among the crowd, tall as a mountain.

Sandor knew that his brother was going to be there, he had just been hoping that he wouldn't have to see him, but of course he wasn't going to be that lucky. His brother was impossible to miss, standing at more than seven feet tall. There wasn't any man in the country as tall or strong as Gregor Clegane, and that was why he was Governor Tywin's personal bodyguard since many years ago. There wasn't also any man of whom Sandor Clegane was so scared in the entire world. Sandor gave up on his effort to drink the wine slowly; he swallowed it all down at once and left the cup back in the table. He wanted to pick another one up but he knew he shouldn't. Instead, his attention was caught on his older brother when he saw that the man, who was standing far away from him across the room, was looking at something with dark interest. At first Sandor was afraid for a moment, believing that his brother was looking at him, but then he followed the eldest Clegane's eyesight and realized that Gregor was looking at someone next to him. Sandor frowned, knowing that it wasn't good for anyone to have his brother's attention centered on them, so he turned around to see who the poor unlucky idiot was and he almost bumped into Sansa Stark.

"Sorry!" she quickly apologized. She had been holding a g,ass of champagne in her hand and some of it had spilled, but luckily it had been on the floor instead of on their clothes. Sandor almost didn't even hear her apology. He looked at her with eyes wide as plates, and then he looked back at his brother. Gregor was now looking at him, and the evil smirk in his face made Sandor's hair stand on end. He felt a cold chill inside of his chest that he felt on very rare occasions in his life.

It's this place, he thought then. It's this fucking city. It's being back in Lannisport, the memories are worse.

He raised his hand and touched his old burns with the tips of his fingers. He couldn't feel anything on his face, because the nerves had been burned, but he could feel the rough and unpleasant touch of his skin with his fingers, and the cold chill returned.

"Sir, are you alright?" Sansa's voice suddenly reached him, and he looked down to her again. She was looking at him a hit worried, not understanding what was wrong with him.

He didn't reply. He just turned around and left as quickly as he could. He crossed the room through the crowd until he reached the back crystal door that led to the back garden. As he was about to step outside, someone stopped him. He recognized the man, it was another bodyguard, Bronn. He was Tyrion Lannister's employee.

"You can't be here," Bronn said, daring to hold Sandor's glare and keeping his head high at the same time. Not many men were able to due that.

"I'm checking the permimeter, I need to make sure that it's safe," Sandor lied. He hated lying, but he wasn't about to tell that man that what he really wanted was to get as far away from the party as he could.

"We've already done that. Sorry mate, I can't let you out. No one's going out there without the Governor's permission.."

"And since when do you follow Governor Tywin's orders?" Sandor barked, annoyed with the man. Bronn simply raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Since my boss told me to!" he exclaimed. He didn't look very happy to be standing there, to tell the truth.

"Look, I'm the future President's bodyguard. If I want to check the fucking perimeter, I'll check the fucking perimeter. Or perhaps I'll tell the Governor that you are jeopardizing his grandson's security, I'm sure he'll be very happy about it. Now get out of my fucking way."

He never used the excuse of "I'm the future President's bodyguard" because he had always believed people who acted that way to be complete arrogant assholes, but he was really annoyed at that point of that night. He just wanted to go out to the garden without the stupid Lannister bodyguard stopping him from doing so. Bronn just stared at him with his eyebrows still raised for a few seconds, and in the end he stepped to the side, leaving the way free for Sandor.

"Careful with the cliff," was the last thing the man said before Sandor walked away from him.

He could smell the sea from there. There was also a beach in King's Landing, but it was filthy and he hated it, and it wasn't the real sea. But here in Lannisport, they were right next to the ocean. Casterly Rock has been built next to a very tall cliff and it was some of the most beautiful views that Sandor had even seen. He wasn't much into the aesthetic of things, but he couldn't deny that something was beautiful when he saw it. He took a deep breath, smelling the salt in the air. The light breeze hit Sandor, and he could hear the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks hundreds of feet below. The ocean was dark, the same color as the night sky above it. Sandor got close to the edge of the cliff and observed the horizon with his hands stuffed inside his pockets. He stood there for a while, still and without doing nothing or even thinking about anything, until he heard small steps behind him. He frowned and turned around to see who was sneaking behind him. He wouldn't like to be surprised and pushed off a fucking cliff...

...He was surprised when he saw that it was Sansa Stark who had gotten out of the mansion (apparently she had managed to convince Bronn to let her pass?) and she was walking towards him. She was feeling cold, she had goose bumps on her arms and on her leg (Sandor was trying very hard not to look at the opening in the skirt of her back dress) and she was lightly rubbing her arms with her hands, but apart from that she seemed okay. She was looking at the bodyguard with a questioning expression.

"Are you okay?" she asked, surprising him even further than her presence there had already done. "You practically ran away from me back there."

Sandor didn't say anything; he just stared at her in silence, hoping that that would make her leave, but apparently it didn't. Sansa asked one more question.

"Why?"

"I have to work," Sandor said as a poor excuse. He pointed to the mansion with a quick movement of his head. "Go back inside."

"I don't want to go back inside," she protested, getting a step closer to him. "I've had enough of my future husband's family for one night. Besides, they are currently being entertained by Joffrey's lover."

That shocked Sandor, and he looked at her even more surprised than before. He could have sworn before that she had no idea about her fiancé's affair with his aunt, but apparently he had been mistaken. Either the girl had somehow found that out in the last five minutes, or she was smarted than he thought.

Sansa noticed his surprised expression, and sighed. A small mocking half smile appeared in the corner of her mouth.

"So you know?" Sadnor asked then, though it was a stupid question. The answer was obvious.

"Of course I know," Sansa scoffed. He hadn't heard her scoff since he met her; she was ever so polite and sweet and shy and naïve. "I've known for a long time. I not an idiot, you know?"

There was a long an awkward silence.

"You do think I'm an idiot, don't you?" she asked then. She didn't seem upset about that, she was just making an observation. Sandor didn't know what to make of her calmness, he didn't know what she was thinking and he couldn't manage to even guess anything.

"I just don't understand why you are marrying him," he admitted then. Sansa was still smiling, but it was in a sad way.

"Because I have to. I know what you think of me. That I'm a gold digger, that I'm just with Joffrey for his money and his power. If I wanted power, I would leave and stay with my brother Robb, he's more likely to win the elections than Joffrey, I know that. And I have enough money of my own to live like a Queen for the rest of my life."

"If it's not for the money or the power, and it's certainly not for fame either, why are you with him?" Sandor rasped, frustrated. "There must be a reason."

Sansa stared at him with curiosity.

"Why can't it just be love?" she asked innocently.

Sandor laughed then, loud and hard. It was so ridiculous that it was funny.

"Now you think that I'm the idiot!" he barked. "No woman can love a little shit that treats her the way he treated you the other day, slapping and shaking you around."

"Joffrey's got a temper," the girl said then. lowering her voice.

"Are you defending him?" he asked in disbelief. "You are definitely stupid then. I've known that boy since he was fucking four years old, I know how he is! He's a bloody bastard when he wants to be. What he did the other day, that wasn't because he has a temper; I have a temper and I don't slap women around because their brother decides to do his fucking job!"

"Are you implying something?" Sansa hissed, taking yet another step closer to him.

"Yes. I'm implying that there is something that you are not telling me right now. You are with Joffrey for something that is not love."

"Well, it's none of your business!" she exclaimed; now she was upset all of a sudden, when she had remained calm during all the past minutes. "You are just a bodyguard, and I don't owe you any explanations!"

He shot daggers at her through his eyes.

"Well, the, why don't you go back to the party with the people worthy of your explanations, Miss Stark?" he rasped, suddenly angered and craving another cup of wine.

Sansa regained her composure and stared defiantly at him.

"I want to know the reason why it looked like you had seen a ghost back in the party when I crashed against you."

"I don't care about ghosts."

"You know what I mean! Tell me."

"Why should I? You didn't tell me your secret," he rasped. Regardless of that, something compelled him to tell her the truth. "My brother. Governor Tywin's bodyguard."

Sansa looked perplexed, and her eyes were wide.

"That huge man? That's your brother?" she asked, and Sandor nodded. Sansa was still puzzled. "Why did you look like you were panicking when you saw him?"

To answer the question, Sandor took a step closer to Sansa, closing the distance between them. He could see that he appeared to be a little uncomfortable then, but she didn't try to move away. Only when he leaned over her so that his face was at the same level as hers, with barely any space between them, did she seem truly uncomfortable.

It was the burns in his face. He could see how she stared at the ruined side of his face, and she saw the shadow of shock and fear and a bit of disgust and repulsion in her eyes. It only enraged Sandor even more, but it was the reaction that he was expecting.

"Tell me, girl," he hissed. He was sure that she could smell the wine in his breath. "Am I a pretty sight?"

Sansa was conflicted then, trying to find the right words to say in that occasion. Sandor didn't want her t come up with any fake polite words so that she wouldn't hurt his feelings; he wanted the truth.

"Am I?!" he repeated again, more harshly and rude than before.

"No," the girl quickly admitted in a low whisper. She was perhaps hoping that he wouldn't hear her, but he did. Only then di he back away from her again, straightening his back to regain his height.

"Well, thank that to my brother," he muttered bitterly. "Now go back to the party, before your fiancé starts looking for you. I don't want any trouble because of you."

For a brief moment, he thought that Sansa perhaps wanted to say something. If she did, no words ever came out of her mouth. She just turned around and went back to the mansion, leaving Sandor there watching her walk away. That did not make him feel better.

"Fuck," he hissed after she was gone.

What the fuck was that?

He decided to just forget all that and not to think about it again. He was still craving that wine, but he didn't want to go back to the party. He walked away from the cliff and started walking around the immense garden of Casterly Rock, constantly cursing at himself and at the whole world while he was doing so. What the hell was wrong with him lately?

At some point he reached so tall bushes in one part of the huge Lannister garden. He was walking around there, trying to get rid of his bad mood, when he heard noises. Kissing noises. He approached the bushes, went around one of them, and caught Myrcella Baratheon kissing a boy. Judging by his attire, he was one of the young men serving at the party that night. The boy couldn't be older than nineteen, and he was good looking. It did not surprise Sandor that Myrcella Baratheon, an almost seventeen-year old teenager, had raging hormones and decided to have fun away from the party.

Sandor coughed, making the two 'kids' part from each other and jump in surprise, startled. Myrcella looked at him with horror, and the boy looked like he wanted to die right there and then.

"Sandor-!" Myrcella asked.

"I won't say anything to your brother or your parents if you go back to the party right now," Sandor said, knowing that he could get in trouble if someone else caught them.

Myrcella took her chance to escape embarrassment and ran away from the bushes and back to the party, leaving the poor boy behing. He looked at Sandor in terror, clearly expecting something bad. Sandor just pointed a finger at him.

"You are surrounded by Lannisters here, boy. I would suggest that you be more careful," he warned him. The boy nodded relieved that he had not gotten in trouble, and ran back to the mansion as well, knowing that that had been a close call.

As annoyed as Sandor had been before, now he felt kind of amused.

"Fucking kids," he muttered returning to the party as well.