Warning for violence against women. Not a lot, but there is some.

Other than that, enjoy! And please, review? :)

23. Last Chance.

Sansa stared at her reflection in the mirror while she brushed her hair. She had spent the last hour getting ready for her bachelorette party that night. She hadn't wanted to have a bachelorette party, but she hadn't dared to say so to Joffrey and Cersei, and much less to her mother. She didn't want to celebrate that those were her last days as an unmarried woman, she found no reason to; instead, she felt more like she was going to a funeral. Her own funeral.

However, if she didn't act like the enthusiastic and overly-excited going woman that she was supposed to be, she would raise suspicion. She had already acted off the day that she bought the wedding dress, and she couldn't let that happen again. She had to conceal her real emotions and pretend to be the happiest woman on Earth.

I was the happiest woman on Earth not long ago, she thought, recalling the days that she had spent away from King's Landing, in Tarth and in Highgarden and in Sunspear.

She had experienced heartache and sadness in those places as well, yes, but she had also experienced a happiness and a little bit of freedom that was enough to overshadow all the negative emotions. Sansa closed her eyes and recalled the memories from those days, and all the emotions she had felt. Every single one of them was linked to Sandor.

Sansa still could not understand how that man had gotten so deep inside his skin. Ever since she first saw him he hadn't been a simple bodyguard to her. Something about Sandor Clegane had drawn Sansa to him. She had seen past the scars and his coarseness and his tough facade, and she had felt attracted to the man and also fascinated by him. She had seen that he was different; he had helped her when no one else would, he had cared for her when he wasn't supposed to... It had taken Sansa a little bit of time to realize that Sandor Clegane had fallen in love with her, and it took her about the same time to realize that she loved him too. Oh, she did love him... Her love for him was so real now that it burned her inside, and the realization that she could never be with him physically hurt her.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, and allowed herself to remember with detail her time with Sandor. She recalled his kisses on her lips and her neck, the touch of his calloused hands in her soft skin. She remembered the hard muscles under his warm skin, and how good it felt to touch him. For a moment he swore she could smell him...

She heard the door of her room opening and footsteps approaching her, but she didn't open her eyes. She was still focused on rme wrong the feeling of being in Sandor's arms when suddenly two cold hands touched her bare shoulders. She gasped and opened her eyes immediately, recognizing that touch. It was not Sandor's, and it was not welcome.

"Relax," Joffrey said in a mocking tone. He always had either that gone of an annoyed or cruel one whenever he spoke to Sansa.

His green eyes roamed over Sansa with cruel and sick lust, and Sansa could feel her stomach turning with disgust. Joffrey's expression showed that he liked what he saw: Sansa was dressed in a short deep purple dress that enhanced her beauty. He ran his hands up and down her arms, all the while staring at her cleavage, and she almost gagged.

She wanted him to leave, but that wasn't going to happen. She remained silent, waiting for whatever Joffrey wanted to say or do. She just hoped that it wasn't too bad, and that it ended soon.

"Wear this," Joffrey said then, picking up one of the pendants that were displayed on the boudoir in front of Sansa. She hated that pendant, it was the first gift that Joffrey had ever made to her. She didn't say anything, though, and she let Joffrey fasten it around her neck.

After Joffrey put the pendant on her, his hands started playing with her hair. Sansa locked her eyes on her own reflection in the mirror, and tried to ignore Joffrey's hands. She tried her best not to cringe at his touch, but her disgust and horror was imminent in her eyes. She bit the insides of her cheeks to try and keep her expression neutral, and fought back the burning in her eyes provoked by the tears that flooded them.

Not my hair, she pleaded in her mind. Her inner voice was bitter, and for a second she did look at Joffrey in the mirror. She was unable to hide the hatred in her eyes during that brief moment. I hate it when you touch my hair. I doesn't feel good. I feel dirty when you touch it.

Stop, she wanted to scream, but she couldn't. She remained silent, and she closed her eyes. Only when she heard Joffrey kneeling on the floor at her side and felt his disgusting lips on her neck did she whimper. Joffrey noticed. She knew because she felt his smiling against the soft skin of her neck; he was deeply enjoying her discomfort. She held on so hard to her stool that she almost buried her fingernails in it. She managed to keep still and suffer through that torment, but she whimpered once again when she felt not only Joffrey's lips on her neck, but also his lustful tongue.

A soft, low, and cruel chuckle came out from Joffrey's mouth.

"What's the matter?" he asked, not even bothering to feign concern. He nipped at her neck, and this time Sansa did cringe. "Don't you like it? Not long ago you liked it when I touched you, I remember very well... You were a pretty little bitch, eager to please."

"Joffrey, please..." she cried softly, keeping her eyes closed and her face away for him. She was trying not to get sick, but it was hard.

Joffrey didn't listen. He never did; watching her suffering was what he enjoyed the most about her. Even before he killed her father he was like that with her, nasty and disrespectful. Sansa had had sex with him, yes. She was young and naive, and she had thought that she was in love. She had always wanted to wait for the right time, but there was no right time with Joffrey. He wanted her to please him, and she had wanted to please him because she had thought that that was the right thing to do, she didn't know any better. She had thought that she wanted it, and he had hurt her. He had hurt her in so many ways... Not always, not at first. Everything had been okay at first, at least that was what Sansa told herself. She had thought that she was in love, and she thought that Joffrey loved her too... It didn't take long to learn the truth. Sansa thought she was doing something wrong, that it was all her fault, and she ignored the voice in her head that screamed at her that he was the one that was wrong. She shut that voice of truth in her head until it was too late...

"I like to touch you," Joffrey hissed, nipping painfully at her neck. His hand slid to her collarbones, and then down her cleavage...

Sansa gasped and stood up violently from the stool, throwing Joffrey away from her with the sudden movement, and she walked away from the boudoir and towards the door. Joffrey caught up with her with two single steps and grabbed her hair, making her cry. He turned her around so that she would face him, and his hold on her hair made her cry.

"Joffrey, stop!" she finally said, unable to contain herself. "Please, you are hurting me..."

"You can't get away from me, Sansa," Joffrey muttered. His other hand didn't touch her, but his eyes roamed her body hungrily. "You have done that for far too long, but our wedding is in three days... Then you will be mine completely to do as I please."

"And if I say no?" she suddenly snapped.

She could see Joffrey's eyes widening with surprise, and then a shadow of anger covered them. Even Sansa was surprised with herself, she had never dared to say something like that to Joffrey. She felt an unusual fit of bravery then, and she continued speaking as menacingly as she could manage. The roots of her hair hurt like hell where Joffrey was grabbing and pulling it, but she managed to be strong and stare at him straight in the eyes without shedding a tear.

"When the time comes and the priest asks me if I will marry you... What if I say no?" she asked defiantly. "You can't force me to marry you. My entire family and the whole country will be watching, you can't hurt me... If you dare to raise a hand to me or insult me in that place, you will be doomed. My brother will go after you, perhaps even the whole country will hate you if you hurt me then."

For a moment she believed that she saw admiration in Joffrey's eyes, perhaps provoked by her sudden and unexpected bravery. Sansa never fought back or talked back to him, that was a first; she always endured through whatever physical or mental torture he decided to impose on her. This side of Sansa was new and unknown to them both, and even Sansa was surprised with herself. She had never had that attitude before, where had that come from?!

I'm changing, she realized. But this isn't the first time I've defied him... I've been doing it for a long time now, and he doesn't even know...

That hunt of admiration that she thought she had seen if Joffrey's eyes disappeared soon enough, though. His face was once again a mask of viciousness and cruelty and hatred.

"Go on, do it," he said. "Leave me, humiliate me in front if everyone, be free. I can't stop you. But do you know what will happen then? Do you?!"

He raised his voice with that last question, and he pulled more from Sansa's hair. She whimpered again and shook her head. Joffrey smirked.

"Your little brother Rickon will die in a terrible car accident. He's young, he's a teenager, boys of his age drink and drive without thinking about the consequences. No one will ask questions, he will just be another teenager dead on the road."

"Don't you dare-!" Sansa started shouting, but Joffrey stopped her and kept talking.

"Your other brother Bran will kill himself. He's a cripple, as he will be depressed. And that half brother of yours... he is in the army, isn't he? No one will be surprised if he blows to bits, it happens all the time. And if all this doesn't convince you, then think of your nephew. Boys his age are fearless and they have accidents."

Tears streamed down Sansa's face, and Joffrey wiped them away with his finger. He looked at her terrified eyes and smiled cruelly.

"If you don't want that to happen, marry me. If you don't, your whole family will end up like your daddy," he warned her. His words were like knifes, and Sansa felt that each one of them stabbed her heart a thousand times, causing her the worse pain that she had ever endured in her life. Powerless and helpless she nodded her head, letting him know that she wouldn't fail him. She would be his wife in three days time...

Joffrey smiled one last time, satisfied with himself.

"Good. Now clean yourself up before going down, I don't want anyone seeing you like this, you look like a mess. And if anybody doubts that you want this marriage to happen, I will give you a reason to really cry."

He let go of her then, and he left her bedroom. Sansa stood there for some time, staring into the void. She wanted to cry and scream, but she couldn't. She had cried to much already over the past year that her eyes were dry and empty, and she felt like she was drowning in her despair. She saw no way out of her nightmare.

She had considered all options, but all of them failed. Telling the authorities had been the first one, but who would believe her? Telling her family had been another, but then she would be putting them in a danger that she was not willing to put them in. She had wanted to run away by herself, but she wouldn't get far away enough before Joffrey found her.

She had gotten to a point where Joffrey's abuse was so bad and so cruel that she had just wanted to end it all. She had only thought about killing herself once in all that time, just once, when she had had enough and she thought that she couldn't take it anymore. But the memory of her family had stopped her from doing any stupidity. She had realized that ending her life would mean that Joffrey had won, that he had defeated her. She wouldn't let that happen, and she couldn't do that to her family. She couldn't do things the easy way, her parents had taught her to fight...

So she was fighting with the only weapons she had. She had her inner strength, she had her courtesies and politeness and her sweet words and her smiles. They kept her alive, they kept the people around her fooled (at least, the people that mattered,) and they kept Joffrey satisfied. That was all she needed for the moment. She needed to be one of them, and wait for the right moment.

Her last option had been running away with Sandor. Sansa knew that he wanted to keep her safe, and she knew that he would be able to take her away. They had had many chances already, but she hadn't taken any of them... The reason for that was that she wanted to keep him alive as well. If Sandor helped her escape, at some point Joffrey would find them and he would kill Sandor. Sansa would never forgive herself if anything bad happened to Sandor...

Her last hope was Arya. As much as Sansa hated the idea of her younger sister killing someone, she knew that she had no other option. Sansa knew that Arya could do it, and she also knew that Arya wanted to do it and that there was no stoping her, so she prayed for Arya to complete her mission soon.

Please, Arya... she thought in desperation while she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her make-up needed to be fixed. I don't want you to have to do this, but I need to get out of this place... Please...

Sansa had hope that everything would go alright. There were three days left until the wedding, and the Faceless Men had time before that to attack. Arya had promised her that she would save her.

Just be safe, little sister. Please, Sansa prayed. If the piece to pay for her freedom was Arya's life, then Sansa preferred to stay a prisoner to Joffrey rather than losing someone else that she loved.

She finished fixing her make up, and now she looked just as perfect as before. She kept staring at her reflection in the mirror, and she practiced her fake sweet smiles in it.

It's not so hard, she thought to herself. She had been doing those fake smiles for over a year. She had learned the art of smiling while feeling broken inside to the point of perfection. Only Sandor had been able to see the lie in her face and the truth in her eyes. It's just like being in a movie.

With that last though she left her bedroom and walked down the hallway and downstairs, ready to meet her family and friends that had come to take her to her bachelorette party. They thought that it was going to be a fun and special night for her, while in truth it was the night that marked the beginning of hell in Earth for her.

However, no matter how much she was screaming and crying and getting broken inside, on the outside Sansa Stark looked like the most radiant, beautiful and happy bride-to-be in the entire world.

Sandor had had hopes of seeing Sansa before leaving with Joffrey and his friends and family and other bodyguards to celebrate his bachelor party. He was sure that that was being a terrible night for Sansa, and the smug smirk on Joffrey's face after coming downstairs right after leaving her bedroom only confirmed Sandor's fears. He didn't know what had happened inside that bedroom, but he hoped Joffrey hadn't dared to harm Sansa. He hoped not, because her mother and sister-in-law were right there... Joffrey wouldn't be so stupid, would he?

In any case, if Joffrey had done anything to Sansa, no matter what it was, it was enough reason for Sandor to want to rip his guts out of him. However, he knew that Sansa would stop him from doing so. The only reason why he listened to her on that matter and he didn't take any action against Joffrey was because he knew that the girl was right, that they could not win that fight. If someone took out Joffrey it couldn't be him, or he would be dead seconds after.

But what is my life worth compared to the little bird's? Nothing, he thought bitterly, hating to be helpless to do anything other than wait.

He at least hoped that Sansa wouldn't be so miserable due that she had her family with her. In the few occasions in which he had seen her around her family he had seen a genuine smile and relief on her face, and that was good. He hated to see her suffering...

Sandor, along with the other bodyguards, escorted Joffrey and his family and friends to the bachelor party. There were going to be two parts to it. First the most formal, which consisted in a dinner in one of the fanciest and most expensive restaurants of King's Landing, famous for serving politicians and other important and rich people the whole time. Sandor had never been more bored n his entire time. Having to stand there, hearing those idiots talking about shit, made him wish that he could take a bottle of wine and get drunk on it or, better yet, shove it down those fuckers's throats and choke them.

If at least he could eat some of that food... But no. No food for the bodyguards.

Maybe it's better that way, or I would get food poisoning from listening to all their bullshit... Sandor grunted in his mind. He was definitely not pleased with anything.

The second part of the bachelor party was only for Joffrey and his friends. The other men and boys, like Tywin Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Tommen Baratheon and such left, and Joffrey and his friends left with Sandor, Meryn, Boros and other bodyguards and drive to another restaurant. Sandor knew the place perfectly, it wasn't the first time that he had accompanied Joffrey and his busies there. Outside the place did look like a very fancy restaurant, but it was just a trick, an illusion so that politicians' reputation wouldn't be ruined by spying eyes. Once inside, Joffrey gave a password to one of the waiters, and the man led them all to a door in the back of the restaurant which led to the underground level of the place, where the real business was.

They were immediately surrounded by sensual and erotic music, darkness and red lights, the smell of strong alcohol, drunken laughs and the sight of beautiful, dancing, half-naked women. Joffrey and his friends cheered, while Sandor grunted under his breath. While he had frequented places like those back in the day, he didn't enjoy them anymore. The thought of looking at any other woman other than Sansa was unthinkable, and he wanted to get out. He did not fear temptation, neither did he feel lust, because he felt neither of them. He just didn't want to be in that kind of place anymore.

Joffrey and his friends, however, and even the other bodyguards, were deeply enjoying the place. They were quickly led to a privileged spot in the strip-club, where they had a great view of the place and the girls, but at the same time it was hidden and discreet. Strip-clubs weren't forbidden in Westeros, nor was prostitution, but it wouldn't be prudent that one of the candidates to Presidency was seen in there days before getting married to the other party's candidate's sister. Really, if Joffrey was smart he wouldn't have shown his face around that place, but his big flaw was that he believed himself to be king of the world.

The bodyguards took a seat around Joffrey and his friends so that they wouldn't be seen, but they were still able to keep an eye on the Governor. However, it looked like Sandor was the only one focusing on his job at the moment, while the other bodyguards were looking at the pole-dancing stripers with their moths hanging open. Of all the men in that place, Joffrey had the most disgusting and lustful expression of them all. He was checking out the girls; they were not only stripes, they were also prostitutes, and the young man was probably trying to decide which one (or which ones,) he would acquire for the night. Sandor grimaced in the dark.

Pathetic sick shit... If he does not care for his future wife, at least he could try and have some respect for his lover and future mother of his child, Sandor thought. Then he laughed under his breath. Who was he kidding? Joffrey has respect for no one, he didn't care for anyone, and less of all for women. He did what he pleased because he thought it was his right to do so.

And to think he was going to be Sansa's husband in three days... Sandor felt like he needed to puke.

"Mr. Baratheon!" one of the girls exclaimed, making her way to the young Governor. She was only wearing high leather boots and a thong, nothing more. She had long and curly strawberry blond hair, and blue eyes. Joffrey smiled like an idiot when he saw her, and the girl sat down on his lap. "It's been so long since we have had the pleasure of your company."

Joffrey friends whistled, and he kept grinning.

"I'm a busy man," he said, holding her with his hands. "But tonight we celebrate!"

"We will help you celebrate," the girl said, and she called for some other girls. Some prostitutes approached Joffrey's friends and sat with them, while the strippers danced in front of them.

Sandor paid them no attention. His eyes were fixed on the only place were no half naked women could be seen, and he was getting more and more distracted up to the point where he wasn't even listening to the music or hearing the laughs and conversation and drunken voices around him. He was so distracted that he didn't even hear Joffrey shouting:

"You! Take care of my dog!"

Before those words even had the chance to register in his brain, a girl appeared in front of him. Surprised, he moved back, which gave her space to place her long legs at each side of him. Sandor was still in shock because he hadn't been thinking and he hadn't expected that, so he did to move and he just looked at the stripper in front of him that was giving him a lap dance. He blinked several times and saw that the girl was just as bare as the other girls that were with Joffrey and his drunk friends: the only thing that covered her body was a very thin black thing and high black leather boots. All the rest of her was naked, and she was so close to him that she was practically shinning her huge and bare breasts in his face. He wanted to back away from her, but his seat wouldn't allow him to get very far.

Seven fucking hells...

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. The men surrounding him took it the wrong way, and everyone thought he was actually aroused when in reality he just wanted the girl to get the hell away from him. The whistled and laughed and encouraged the stripper to do obscene things.

The girl smiled, knowing that she could earn good money that night. She got even closer to Sandor, and then she rocked her hips against his and Sandor hissed. He didn't like it, he didn't like it one bit. In the past he had enjoyed those places and watching those women, but that was before he had someone he cared about, before he even thought that someone could ever love him. Now, the only thing that was in his mind was the image of Sansa's face. Everything that the woman was doing had no effect on him, and even though he should be aroused already, his cock remained limp.

Joffrey and his friends were still laughing, amused by the spectacle that they were witnessing. From the angle from which they were looking, the only thing they could see was Sandor getting a lap dance from a half-naked striper. Joffrey's laugh was the loudest of them all.

"Guys, look!" he chuckled. "If the place was darker I would swear that my dog is fucking my fiancée!"

Another explosion of laughter followed. Sandor frowned, having no idea what Joffrey was talking about. He threw his head back to have a better look at the woman. It was just them that Sandor realized that the striper had long red hair. It was lighter than Sansa's, but in the darkness and the red lights of that place it looked almost the same color as the auburn hair of the Stark girl.

Feeling a wave of fury like none other that he had ever experienced before stirring inside of him, Sandor pushed the striper away without any kind of delicacy. The woman stumbled and almost fell but she didn't; he paid her no attention and he stood up, grunting angrily before walking away and heading towards the staircase. Once out of the secret strip club, he crossed the restaurant until he found the back exit, and he went out the door and walked I to a dark and deserted back alley.

The night was cold, and midst came out Sandor's mouth, white against the darkness around him. It was already April in Westeros, which meant that they were halfway through autumn in the southern half of the country. Winter was coming soon, and Sandor didn't like it.

He searched inside his pockets and found the phone that Arya Stark had given him and Sansa when they met her in the cave in Tarth. The phone had been for Sansa, because she couldn't call her sister with her own phone because it had a bug, but since Joffrey was always looking through her things and registering everything it would be too dangerous for her to keep it, so Sandor had kept it. He looked at the only number saved in the list of contacts, and then he dialed it without hesitation.

The phone rang for a long time, and for a moment he thought that maybe they weren't going to pick up, but he wasn't going to give up. He needed those fuckers to pick up, he needed them...

Finally, someone answered the phone on the other side of the line.

"Hello?" the voice that answered was not Arya Stark's, but Sandor recognized the fake pizza delivery guy that had taken him and Sansa to the cave.

"It's me," he rasped.

"Has something happened?" Jaqen H'ghar asked immediately, seeming worried.

"No. But something was supposed to happen. You said that you were going to get rid of him. That was fucking months ago," Sandor hissed angrily.

"That was the plan, but there were complications."

"Fuck complications!" Sandor barked. "The wedding is in three fucking days, and I will not stand there watching it happening!"

"You will have to," Jaqen said calmly at the other side of the line. "Arya wanted to go back to Westeros and kill him before the wedding, but it will not be possible."

"What do you mean, it will not be possible?!"

"Our boss told us to do something else before we could fly to Westeros and kill Joffrey. If we didn't do it, then we didn't have permission, and if you do something without the boss's permission you are dead," Jaqen explained. "Arya accepted, so we flew to India to do what the boss asked us to do. We are trapped here now."

"Trapped?"

"Someone attacked us. Some men, we don't know who they are... They killed all the other men that were with us, and they tried to kill Arya and me. She almost didn't make it."

"Fuck. Is she okay?" Sandor asked, worried. He couldn't imagine anything worse than having to tell the little bird that her sister was dead, so he hoped that the Stark girl was fine.

"Yes, but she was hurt. In other circumstances it would be nothing, but we were stuck in the jungle for over a week, and her wounds got infected. Mine too, but I wasn't shot, she was. We are in a city now, and she's much better, but we are still stuck in India."

"Why? Can't any of your men go and pick you up from there?"

"The boss has forbidden it. He knows that Ary wants to kill Joffrey, but he wants to know who the men that tried to kill us were, and why they wanted to kill us. They said they were there to stop us from killing Joffrey."

"They were protecting him? That can't be, he doesn't know who you are! He's still trying to find out who shot him!"

"Which is why out boss is so worried," Jaqen H'ghar said. "Who are these men? What do they want, and why? The boss wants Arya and me to stay here to stop is from doing anything before he finds an answer and makes a decision..."

"Fuck that," Sandor rasped. "If you are not doing it, I will do it."

"Don't," Jaqen warned him. "If you kill Joffrey it could have serious consequences. The first one of them would be that you would be dead five seconds later."

"Do you think that I care about my life when Sansa's is about to become hell?" Sandor hissed. His grip on the phone tightened so much that he feared he was going to break it.

"You can keep her safe, but you can't keep her safe by killing Joffrey. Everyone would see it as murder, and the Lannisters will make sure that she is seen as your accomplice. The truth about you two will come out, and her life will continue being hell. She could go to jail."

"She won't know that I'm going to kill him, I will just do it."

"The Lannisters won't care. They are powerful. If you kill Joffrey, she will be your accomplice. You will die, and she will go to jail, and then you won't have saved her, you will have ruined her."

"Then what the fuck do I do?!"

"Protect her. Be there for her, that's all you can do for the moment."

"That's easier said than done..."

"Well, you have to," Jaqen said. "Now destroy this phone, it's too dangerous."

"How will we contact you, then?"

"We will contact you when the time is right."

Jaqen H'ghar hung up the phone, and Sandor stared at it thinking about all the things he had said. Things were getting too complicated of now another group of mercenaries was involved in that war, this time protecting Joffrey. Sandor had never thought that things would get so dark...

He had never felt more powerless either. He had thought for a moment that all he had to do was put a gun in Joffrey's head and pull the trigger, it would be so easy... He was willing to do it for Sansa, but Jaqen was right. The Lannisters would never let her go if that happened, and things could get even worse for her.

He would have screamed full of rage in that moment if he hadn't been afraid that someone might hear him and it would raise suspicion. Instead, he was forced to keep all his rage and desperation inside of him, and it felt like it choked him. He threw the phone to the floor and stepped on it furiously, destroying it in pieces. He then grabbed the card and broke it in half, and he carried the ruined phone to the nearest garbage and threw it then.

After barely accepting that there was nothing that he could do to stop that wedding, he returned inside the restaurant.