I've decided to lower Sandor age to 36. 44 worked well for the background story but it was too much, so now he's 9 years older than Joffrey and 11 years older than Sansa.

31. Different Kinds of Hell.

Sandor managed to fall asleep during the rest of the flight, but it was a restless sleep. When he woke up, seconds before the plane landed on the runway of the airport in Lannisport, his neck hurt and his back hurt and he had a headache. He felt like shit.

When the gates opened he picked up his bag and he left the plane. He walked through the airport all the way towards the exit, and then once he was out he went to the parking lot. Joffrey had told him that they were going to send someone to pick him up at the airport, though he would have preferred to rent a car and drive. However, in the conditions in which he was in at the moment, perhaps driving wasn't the best idea.

He looked around, trying to see if he could find whatever idiot the Lannisters had sent to pick him up...

"Sandor!" a roaring voice called him from far away at his left.

He turned around to face the person that had called him, and he paled right after seeing him. It must be a fucking joke... His day was already shitty enough with everything that he had had to deal with, and now the fuckers sent his brother to pick him up?!

Gregor stood like a giant in the parking lot; he was much taller than all the cars around him, so it looked like they were toys. The car he was driving was a huge black SUV, fit for his size. It would be ridiculous if Gregor tried to drive any other car because he didn't fit in them. He was wearing his bodyguard suit, and Sandor couldn't see his expression behind the dark sunglasses. He figured that his brother was having a lot of fun trying to come up with ways of torturing him. Sandor wanted to turn around and leave Gregor there and take a cab to Casterly Rock. He preferred to walk all the way to the bloody mansion instead of having to suffer through a car ride with his brother. But he was too tired and he felt that he would collapse to the ground at any moment, he couldn't walk all that... Besides, he didn't have money for a cab.

"Fuck my life..." he muttered under his breath, feeling even angrier than before.

Neither one of them said hello to the other when Sandor approached the car and entered it. He could hear his brother scoffing, and he tried his best to ignore Gregor when he for inside the car as well.

"You look like shit," Gregor said. "Like always, really. But today you look worse, I didn't think that was possible!"

"Just shut up and drive," Sandor grunted.

Gregor laughed under his breath as he started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, driving towards the exit that let to the road.

It wasn't a long way from the airport to Casterly Rock, just about twenty minutes. It wouldn't have been an awful ride if Gregor had decided to leave his younger brother in peace and shut his mouth, but he was Gregor. Gregor couldn't miss an opportunity to make his brother uncomfortable. Gregor was usually despicably cruel to Sandor, but there wasn't a lot of ways in which he could be like that while he was driving. Gregor was better with violence than he was with words, so he usually preferred to fight Sandor. However, at that moment he was driving, so he only talked.

"Why are you in such a bad mood?" he wondered while he drove in the highway. "Is it because your boss quicker you like the dog you are and sent you here instead of taking you with him?"

Sandor didn't reply. He was looking outside the window, hoping that maybe Gregor would leave him alone. But Gregor didn't shut up.

"No, I know, I know..." he laughed lowly, his voice cruel and cold. "It's because he took his wife with him, isn't it?"

Sandor tensed up after he heard his brother say that, and he started feeling the familiar feeling of fear in the pit of his stomach. He remembered when Gregor had gone to pick Sansa and him up from the isle of Tarth. Sandor had arrived right when Gregor was saying something to Sansa, and though he didn't hear everything, he did hear something that had greatly worried him. Had his brother figured anything out? Did he know anything about him and Sansa? He must have guessed something, because if not why would he be making that comment? Unless it was just a lucky guess, of course...

Gregor sensed Sandor's discomfort, and laughed. It only made Sandor feel worse.

"I've seen the way you look at her, like she's some sweet cupcake ready to be devoured. And who can blame you?! I've seen her too, and she looks..." Gregor took a moment to slowly kick his lips, "delicious..."

"Touch her, and I will cut your hands off and pull your eyes out," Sandor rasped.

"Relax, brother! I can't touch her. But well, neither can you."

Sandor decided that the best thing that he could do would be to ignore his brother and try to not worsen his mood, though it had already been foul the entire day. They were approaching the coast, and the SUV was already driving up the road that lead to the cliff where Casterly Rock mansion was, and Sandor could not wait to get there and be able to get out of the car and get as far away from his brother as he possibly could. He wished he could spend the rest of the trip to the mansion in peace, but Gregor wasn't going to allow it.

"I've been wondering..." he murmured in a dark tone of voice that scared Sandor. He knew his brother didn't have anything good in mind, "what you two were doing alone in that island..."

"Joffrey sent me to watch over her."

"Was that all you did?"

"What...? Fuck off, Gregor."

"Don't talk to me like that, pup," Gregor spat. There, the dangerous and violent, aggressive, short-tempered Gregor was coming a little bit to the surface. Sandor had been terrified of his brother when he was younger, and now, even though he was an adult, he still didn't want to anger him. He remembered once when he made Gregor angry... He had called him pup that day too. He remembered the smell of gasoline, the heat of fire, the pain of melting flesh...

Gregor knew that Sandor was afraid of him, and he loved it. Sandor hated him even more for it. He could see his brother smirking from the corner of his eye, and he wished he was somewhere far away from there.

"So as I was saying," Gregor continued saying, "I wonder what you two did. The girl is beautiful, but she looks desperate. I did notice how happy she was when she thought that it was you who was in the room, not me... No one would be stupid enough to sleep with the Governor's wife. You have never been very bright, but you are not that stupid," he said, making Sandor want to punch him in the head. It was better that Gregor though that nothing had happened, though he cursed his brother's ability to always know what was going on in Sandor's life. If he said anything... But he could have said it much earlier, and he hadn't. Gregor enjoyed having delicate information about his brother that he had discovered himself. "Did she suck your cock? She definitely looks desperate enough to do that to a dog like you."

"Will you fucking shut up?!" Sandor barked, not being able to hold back anymore.

Gregor stopped the car in the front gate of Casterly Rock and Sandor opened the door and got off the vehicle before it had even completely stopped. He took his bag and was waking towards the mansion, wanting to go inside and forget his brother and his words, both mocking and cruel at the same time. He wanted to forget everything, he wanted to forget how devastated he had been in the plane, how broken he had felt when he saw Sansa walking away after saying goodbye...

"Maybe I'll have her suck my cock too!" he heard Gregor saying from behind him. "It doesn't matter of she's willing or not, I can fix that easily."

Sandor saw red. He dropped his bag to the floor, and then he turned around and punched his brother, who had been following him to the house, right in the face. The blow made Gregor take a few steps back, and Sandor saw his brother's expression change from amused to completely shocked. Sandor had almost never dared to touch Gregor, he had always been too afraid... He didn't care able that anymore, not after hearing Gregor saying what he had just said about Sansa. Sandor wouldn't tolerate it. He wouldn't.

Blood ran down Gregor's nose to his chin. He touched his nose with his hand and hissed in pain. He looked at the blood that stained his fingers, and then he stared at his younger brother. Sandor saw Gregor's grey eyes, almost identical to his, darken with rage. He knew he shouldn't have done that, the Gregor that he feared had come to the surface. He didn't care. He really didn't care anymore.

"You fucking little shit," his brother muttered before throwing a punch to Sandor's head. Sandor was expecting it and he dodged it, and he used that movement to throw a punch to his brother's stomach. Gregor was huge, so he was an easy target.

However, Gregor's gigantic size was also his most powerful weapon, and he was bloody quick and agile for a person that big and heavy. Sandor couldn't dodge his next blow.

Gregor's fist collided against Sandor's face. Sandor was big and strong and a great fighter, but his older brother was a giant, and his brute force threw Sandor on his back to the ground. There was a sharp pain all over his face cause by the punch he had received. While he was lying on his back on the ground he turned his head to the side and spat blood, and before he could stand up Gregor was over him. His brother anger had completely reached the surface, and he had partly become the monster that Sandor had learned to fear as a child. Gregor grabbed Sandor by the collar of his shirt, and Sandor felt again like the defenseless child that he had been many years ago. It was always like that when it came to his brother, even though he had learned to fight back with the years.

Gregor raised his arm and punched Sandor in the face again. Sandor didn't make a sound, and he remained silent even as Gregor punched him again. Sandor was covered in blood that came from his mouth, and blood that dripped from Gregor's nose, and he was also covered in dirt and dust from the ground. He felt a burning pain in the jaw, where Gregor had punched him. His brother's face was a twisted mask of viciousness and cruelty. His skin was red and his veins were big and swollen, and his eyes were wide open; Sandor could see in them how much Gregor enjoyed what he was doing.

"Maybe I'll have her cunt too!" Gregor spat in Sandor's face, right before punching him again. "I bet it's fucking sweet and tight!"

That was what made Sandor completely snap. He roared, forgetting how numb he felt and forgetting about the pain, and he grabbed his brother's jacket to bring him closer to him. When Gregor's face was a few inches away from him, Sandor slammed his head against Gregor's. Gregor howled in pain and fell back, his dark expression replaced by that of shock. He took a few steps back, and Sandor seized the opportunity to stand back on his feet. Before Gregor could recover, Sandor went over to where his brother was and punched him in the face with all his strength and taking out his full rage on him.

Gregor lost his balance and fell on his back like Sandor had done before him. While he was lying there, Sandor kicked his brother in the gut. He didn't feel joy or satisfaction when he heard Gregor howling in pain again as his foot slammed into his brother's stomach. He was too mad, too furious to feel anything else other than the desperate need to kill Gregor...

He was about to kick Gregor again, but the man managed to grab his leg and twist it. Sandor fell to the ground again with a grunt. His chin hit the ground, and drops of blood fell to the ground. Gregor was about to attack him again when both brothers heard a voice angrily yelling:

"CLEGANE!"

They both stopped fighting and looked up. Tyrion Lannister had come out of the mansion and he was walking towards them, looking terribly angry. His hands were clenched into fists at his side, and his expression was of disapproval. The brothers didn't know to whom it was that the man was yelled at. Perhaps it was to both of them.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Tyrion hissed, stopping in front of them while both men, who were like giants next to him, stood up. "This is outrageous! Fighting like animals in front of the Lannister mansion, with everyone inside, even children! I should have both your asses fired right this moment!"

"You are not my boss, dwarf," Gregor spat.

"No, but I could have a very interesting conversation with him. I'm sure he will love to know what was happening here," Tyrion said with sarcasm. "Now, what on Earth was going on?"

"We are brothers," Gregor said with the same sarcastic tone that Tyrion had used. "Brothers fight."

"Oh, what are you now, 12? Get lost, Clegane," Tyrion said, and he wasn't going to say it again. Gregor didn't listen to people, but Tyrion was a Lannister and he worked for the Lannisters, so he obeyed. He was happy, though. Sandor could see how angry his brother was as he turned their back on them and left.

Now Sandor was standing in front of Tyrion alone, and the little man's angry glare was directed to him.

"Well?" Tyrion asked, as if he was expecting Sandor to give him an explanation.

Sandor shook off the dust and dirt off his jacket and them he shrugged. His face and jaw hurt, but he was sure that the pain was worse than how it looked, or at least he hoped so. He couldn't go walking around with his face looking like a punching bag. That was the last thing he needed, the scars were already bad enough.

"We were just fighting," he said.

"I could see that."

"I was nothing," Sandor insisted.

He knew that Tyrion Lannister didn't believe him, but he didn't push the subject. Sandor was grateful for that because he wasn't in the mood. That day was definitely turning out to be the worst day that he had had on years.

"Alright," Tyrion sighed. He knew that it was useless to argue with a headstrong Clegane. "Go inside and clean up. Have the rest of the day for yourself. And try that no one sees you like that."

Sandor thanked him, and Tyrion left. Sandor picked up the bag that he had dropped and then he went inside the mansion. He needed a shower, and a few good hours of sleep... if he could get any.

Sansa had never been in a cruise ship, and she was fascinated when she arrived on it. After the flight, a chauffeur had picked her and Joffrey up and took them from the airport to the docks, where they boarded the gigantic ship. Sansa wished they hadn't had to go directly to the ship, she would have liked to see the city for a day and maybe rest a little bit, the flight had been very long and very tiring. They had travelled to New Orleans, which was the city where the cruise was going to start. She had never been in New Orleans and she wanted to see it because she had heard wonderful things about the city. However, Joffrey had other plans, and he had booked the flight the same day that they had to board the ship. That hadn't been a very intelligent idea. What if the plane had been delayed? But of course Sansa wouldn't have complained about that. She didn't want to go on that cruise with her husband anyway...

The ship was gigantic. She had seen cruise ships in the docks in King's Landing sometimes, but she had never seen one that close! And she had never been in one! When she crossed the gangway and arrived in the majestic it and arrived in the majestic atrium she managed to forget about everything and she stood there in awe. It was six decks high, and Sansa smiled when she saw the elevator with glass walls going up and down. There were spiral staircases that led to the three lowest levels, and the people who walked up and down the stairs wore fancy clothes and colorful dresses and fine jewelry; everyone on that cruise was exquisite. The lowest level of the atrium served as a gathering area for the guests. There were two dining halls, a bar, a show lounge, and some shops. On other levels there were more ships, more dining halls, restaurants, clubs, bars, and many more things. Music played to greet the guests.

Sansa felt like she could get lost in that place and never be found again. She had managed to forget the real reason why she was there, and for a second she was happy, and she was a fool, and she thought that maybe she could enjoy staying in that place...

She turned around, thinking for only a fraction of a second that she would find someone there that she would actually want to see, but the smile disappeared from her face when she saw Joffrey. Then she remembered why she was there. That was her honeymoon. That was her hell.

How could she ever enjoy her time there? It would be impossible.

She followed Joffrey to their cabin. It looked like a deluxe apartment, and Sansa would have been delighted to stay there had she been with better company. The cabin had a full wall of glass that led to a balcony. It was located on one of the upper decks, and the views were fantastic. Because the ship hadn't sailed yet, the views they got were of New Orleans. Sansa walked outside to the balcony to have a better look at the city. It was indeed beautiful. She heard the voices of the crowd rising up to her ears, and she thought that everyone sounded happy and joyful. She wished she could be like them...

The first day was easy. Joffrey and her were exhausted from the long flight, so they fell flat on the bed after the staff brought all their things to the cabin, and they slept the entire day. Sansa was so tired that for once she was able to sleep beside her husband for hours and hours without having a single nightmare.

When she woke up the next morning, the ship was already set sail. She felt sad because she wished that she could have been looking while they left the city and ventured into the ocean, but now they were in their way to the Caribbean and it was too late. She saw that Joffrey was still sleeping- snoring, actually- on the other side of the bed so she was careful not to wake him up. She hoped that he would stay asleep for many more hours and he would leave her alone.

Sansa took a quick shower and then she changed into a black bikini and she put on a white sundress and left the cabin. She went to the top of the cruise ship, where the outer swimming pools, slides, jacuzzis and other things were. She thought she might want to go to the swimming pool later, but for the moment she chose to just walk around the ship a little. She wanted to clear her mind and relax, and get lost like she had wanted to do the day before. She was starving, but she ignored the roaring of her tummy. The thought of food made her sick.

She wasn't surprised when she saw men with cameras around, trying to find her. In Westeros the press had already found out that the new Vice President and her, the Oscar-winning pop star and sister of the new President, were on their honeymoon in that cruise, so of course that they had hurried to get tickets in the same cruise to follow them around and get good pictures. Sansa usually didn't mind the cameras, but that was too much. She didn't want people to see pictures of hell during that torment.

She put her hair in a ponytail to drag less attention to it, but she had forgotten her sunglasses so she was easily recognizable. She could see from the corner of her eyes that the paparazzi had spotted her, and so had other people in the cruise, and they were all looking at her and taking pictures. She just ignored them all.

They all think I am happy, she thought with a bit of bitterness. It's not their fault. They believe my life is perfect. They want to be like me.

For some reason that thought pained her. How could people be so blind? Or was she really that good at pretending? The thought that she could manage to be to fake also hurt her. That wasn't her. She hadn't been a good liar when she was little, she had always been a terrible liar. People often told her that, but she didn't mind. She never wanted to be a liar, she liked the truth... But life had made her like that.

Maybe that was another one of the reasons that brought her closer to Sandor in the first place. He hated lies. He always told the truth, or at least he did until he met her and he had had to start to lie. She wished she could tell the truth and stop lying. She needed some truth in her life, less lies... Those lies that were suffocating her.

Sansa went to the railing of the deck. She could see other decks from there, and she could see the ocean. It's water was deep blue, and it sparkled under the sun. She thought she saw some dolphins in the distance, but maybe she was mistaken. Either way, she smiled. The view was beautiful, and she was so peaceful at that moment, alone there... Sansa wished it could be like that more often.

She was there, leaning on the railing, watching the ocean around the ship, when suddenly she felt two hands holding her waist. She gasped, startled, and she turned around to face the person that had grabbed her. Her heart suck when she saw Joffrey standing there, smirking.

"Good morning," he said in a mocking tone. He knew he had scared her, and he knew that Sansa was not glad to see him there. "Sleep well?"

"Y-yes, very well..." Sansa muttered. She could see the paparazzi going wild taking pictures in the distance, fascinated to be able to take pictures of the couple.

"Don't worry about them, they are just doing their job..." Joffrey said. He had also seen the paparazzi, but he was not the least bit bothered by them. He was probably enjoying their presence and the fact that they were immortalizing how he slowly tortured Sansa, even though they didn't know that. "Do too like the ship?"

Sansa gulped and nodded slowly.

"Yes... I like it," she said, not knowing what else to say. It was true, she liked the ship... She just didn't like what she was in it for.

"Good," Joffrey murmured. He ran his hands up and down Sansa's arms, and she shuddered in disgust. Then he put his hands on her waist again, and stepped closer to her. "We are going to have a lot of fun in this ship. Aren't we?"

Sansa gulped, and fought the urge to vomit. She nodded again, but she didn't say anything. Joffrey continued smiling

"That's my good wife... Now kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me," he repeated, tightening his hold on her waist to the point where it was painful, and he made her gasp. "Kiss me like you love me. Come on, do it for the cameras. You are an actress, aren't you?"

She was. She was an actress, and a good one. And she knew what Joffrey wanted. He wanted a show, a spectacle. He wanted to offer the world the image that he had the perfect marriage and he wanted to seize that moment now that the cameras were right there, ready to take hundreds of pictures. Sansa sighed. She knew that she had to do it. She looked at Joffrey's eyes, and remembered all the pain that he had inflicted on her, all the misery... He had killed her father, he had killed Theon. Everything was his fault. She hated him... But she also knew that of she wanted to get out of that situation alive, then she had a role to play. And she had to play it to perfection.

I am an actress, she reminded herself to gain some courage.

So she closed her eyes and kissed Joffrey. He kissed her back, and Sansa managed not to pull away and throw up over the railing. She continued kissing him, even when he stuck his tongue in her mouth. She kept her eyes closed the entire time, not wanting to see him. She didn't want to feel him either, so she tried to blocked her senses. It was useless, it appeared that all the nerves on her body were awake that morning. She was holding on to the railing in fear that she might break down and fall.

"Kiss me like you love me," Joffrey had said. He had never said that before. She had never kissed him like that, it had been impossible. But if he had asked for it then it was no less that he wanted. He wanted a satisfactory result for the cameras, and he would be angry if Sansa's performance didn't reach the level he wanted.

Sansa made her best effort to comply. She threw her arms around Joffrey's neck, and her body was suddenly closer to Joffrey's. He was wearing a thin shirt, and she was wearing only the sundress over the bikini, so she could almost feel his skin. It was repulsive. She felt Joffrey's hands moving around her waist, her hips, her back... Not in a loving way, like Sandor's hands did. Joffrey's hands were possessive, they imprisoned her.

With her eyes closed she tried her best effort to imagine that it was Sandor that she was kissing... She hoped that maybe then she could make it look like the kiss she was giving Joffrey was one of love... But it was impossible. How could she ever try to fake something that came to her so naturally when she was with Sandor? Something like that could never be faked. So she couldn't kiss Joffrey like she loved him. She did the best thing she could, though.

They parted when they both were out of breath, and Sansa was thankful for that. She could r hVe stood one more second kissing that man... Joffrey was panting, and Sansa could see in his face that he had liked it...

She stole one quick glance to the cameras. They had indeed gone crazy taking pictures.

"That's it," Joffrey murmured, putting a finger under her chin so that He would look at him. "My pretty, obedient wife..."

He leaned in for another kiss. Sansa allowed him to kiss her, but this time she did something different. She did something bold.

She bit Joffrey hard on the lip, so hard that she tasted the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, and she heard Joffrey cursing in pain. He pulled away from him and she saw with satisfaction the drops of blood on his lips and the look of shock on his face. He was also annoyed... but not angry. Sansa had seldom seen Joffrey surprise with one of her actions.

He didn't yell or say anything to her. He couldn't have done it in public even if he had wanted to, but she didn't see anger in his face. Joffrey licked the blood off his lip, and then he touched it and looked at his hand while frowning. When he looked back at Sansa she just stared at him in silence.

"I expect to see you tonight," was all Joffrey said. "And I want you to look perfect."

"But."

"You will be there," he muttered, and that time he did sound a bit angry. Sansa stared at him again.

"I will be there," she nodded, but there was something in her voice... Defiance, maybe.

You won't break me, she said with silent words. You can try, but you won't. I won't allow you to.

With one last look at her, Joffrey turned around and left, leaving Sansa alone. She would have peace... At least until nightfall.

There's no way in hell I'm describing anything of what happens with Joffrey and Sansa. Nope. Absolutely no.