Viola crouches before the river splashing cold water on her face as morning steam rolls off of the waters surface in the orange glow of the rising sun. There's a large lump on the side of her head from being struck by the rock, and every muscle in her body aches from the fight she had put up, but she is alive and had not been taken by the foul man she had encountered. She lets out a deep breath, feeling as though she could finally breathe for the first time since the attack.

Sandor had held her all through the night, protecting her with his long, strong arms. He kissed the top of her head, smoothed the hair from her face, and when she was just beginning to drift off to sleep, whispered to her that he would never allow anyone to hurt her again. She believed him. She saw the anger and fear in his eyes when she had run to him. Had seen the hatred in his brow when she had been stripped before the entire castle for her bedding. Saw the way he had barreled into their chambers the day he believed Joffrey to have forced her to look upon her father's severed head. He came back for her, too. In the midst of battle, among all of the confusion, when he had been terrified of the city burning in the green blaze, he risked coming back for her instead of fleeing alone.

A large presence looms behind her, casting a shadow over the river's edge where she crouches. Just as she is about to turn to tell Sandor that she will be ready to leave in a moment, the presence behind her bites her hard on the shoulder.

"Fucking horse!" Viola bellows as she falls to her bottom and scoots backwards away from the snorting beast.

"What did I tell you about touching him?" Sandor shouts as he rushes towards them and grips the horses reins to pull him backwards.

"I didn't touch him! He came up behind!"

Viola tears the neckline of her dress down to look at the bite, which was already beginning to redden, but no blood had been drawn. The last time he had bitten her, her arm had been bruised for nearly a fortnight and ached desperately. This bite had been far gentler, if one could even say that, than the last, but she knew it would hurt far worse based on where it was located on the top of her shoulder.

"What the fuck is his problem?" Viola asks, her eyes narrowed at Sandor as he gently strokes the horses head between his ears.

"Doesn't like people much."

"Yeah, well fuck him." Viola counters as she scrambles to her feet and dusts her bottom off.

"Come here." Sandor instructs her and gestures her forward with one hand, the other remains on the horses large head.

Slowly, she comes forward, narrowing her eyes at the black devil of a horse as he narrows his own eyes at her. Of course Sandor's horse had to be as bad tempered and grouchy as he was, but at least when he bit her, it was gentle and rarely left a mark, and always sent pleasure coursing through her instead of pain.

Sandor grips the horses bridle with one hand as she approaches, and takes her hand in his free hand and places it on the horses nose, stroking it up and down roughly. The horse snorts his disgust at her, but does not make to bite her this time. Finally, Sandor releases them both and with one hand lifts her into the air and onto the horses back. She scoots forward on the edge of the saddle as she did each morning, leaving him enough space to climb on behind her. He stops her, and pulls her roughly backwards onto the center of the saddle before bending at the horses side to fiddle with something beneath. Her foot is jerked backwards from where it dangled, and forced into the stirrups. Sandor puts the warn leather rein in her hands, and begins to lead the horse away from the river by its bridle.

"What are you doing?" She asks as she bounces along, trying to hold herself straight in the saddle without Sandor behind her to hold her upright.

"Teaching you to ride a horse."

"Why?"

"Stranger needs a break from all of the weight on his back." He says simply as he glances back at her and squints in the sunlight. "We'll have to get you a horse of your own before we make it to the mountains. He won't be able to handle the terrain with both of us on his back. Will be much safer with you atop your own horse."

"Where will we find a horse for sale?"

"Anything's for sale."

Sandor stops abruptly, causing her to jerk forward in the saddle when the horse stops, and forces her calf down harshly in the stirrup so that her heel is lower than her toes, putting tension in her calves.

"You're sitting wrong. Keep your heel low, don't squeeze too tightly with your thighs or he'll take off. Now, lower your chin and push your chest forward or your back will be screaming within the hour. Relax your arms down on your thighs, there. Now, don't pull the reins, just sit still and keep your eyes forward. Don't look down at your lap, you're his eyes."

"Okay." Viola breathes, trying to remember all of his instructions as he begins walking the horse once more.

The position he had put her in feels stiff and odd, and then tension in her calves from her heels being forced down causes her muscles to ache from yesterdays fight in the forest. They walk, and ride in silence for several miles, Sandor looking over his shoulder every so often to ensure she was still seated correctly on the saddle.

About midday, Sandor stops the horse once more and allows him to drink from the river for a moment before leading him back towards the trail. This time, however, he does not grip the horses bridle as he approaches their side.

"Squeeze him a bit with your thighs to get him moving." He instructs.

Viola halts, unsure if it is wise of Sandor to allow her to attempt to ride the horse without him being at it's side in case he takes off in anger at her being the one on his back and not him.

"If he starts picking up speed, then pull straight back on the reins."

"But what if I fall off?"

"Don't fall off." Is all Sandor says before he forces her hips together and the horse bolts forward in a gallop far faster than Sandor had lead him forward when he had been walking them.

Viola tightens her jaw and grinds her teeth tightly as the horse picks up speed. It takes every ounce of remaining strength she had to hold on with her thighs, but the harder she squeezes, the faster the horse moves. Every instructions Sandor had given her had fully left her mind the moment the horse lurched forward.

"Pull back!" Sandor shouts behind her as he pants. "Pull back on the reins!"

Viola pulls back harshly on the reins, causing Stranger to skid in the dirt and kick up dust before turning sharply in a circle and bucking, sending his front legs high into the air and snorting loudly. She tries to hang on, tries to keep her feet in the stirrups, but this had not been part of Sandor's teachings. Finally, the muscles in her thighs snap and she falls harshly to the ground with a loud thump and rolls to her side. The horse lands on his feet, narrowly missing her head. She scrambles in the dirt to move away should the horse decide to charge at her, but he only grunts his disgust at her and trots to the side of the trail to munch on clover. Viola looks down at her hands to find the stitches that Sandor had given her the night before had popped open and were now filled with dirt and tiny pebbles, as well as dirt beneath her fingernails and tiny indentions along her palms and fingers from pebbles digging into her flesh.

Sandor reaches her side quickly, out of breath and panting, and hauls her to her feet by her elbow. He brushes the dirt from her skirts roughly before taking her hands in his to study them. He lets out a groan of annoyance when he catches site of the blood trickling from her fingers and the dirt that was now packing into the would. He secures Stranger to a tree, and marches her down to the river to clean the would out.

Viola winces as he scrubs at her fingers harshly to remove the dirt, then sits her on the riverbank to study his previous work. He turns her hand every which way, pinches and prods, then reaches into his armor to produce a ripped piece of cloth, which he wraps around her fingers before tucking the end of the cloth into itself instead of tying it off, so that she can still use her hand if need be.

"Thank you." Viola murmurs and looks up into Sandors slanted grey eyes. "Sorry I cut you, when you came into the room before we left Kings Landing. I never told you I was sorry for that. I guess this is my punishment for that." Viola holds up her bandaged hand and smiles up at her husband.

"Were just protecting yourself." Sandor offers her his large hand and helps her to her feet.

Sandor leads her back to Stranger, and helps her up onto his back before climbing up behind her. They set off with a quick pace as the forest begins to thin around them, indicating that they were closer to the mountains than she had realized. Sandor tucks his hand against her stomach, and Viola traces the raised veins along the back of his hand with her fingers before lacing her hand with his, her fingers barely long enough to close around his as her palm rests against the back of his hand.

Feeling his body pressed against her back felt right. It was as though their bodies were molded to fit perfectly against one anothers. If it weren't or his mail, it would be perfect. She longed to feel his bare skin, and the thick black hair that covered his entire body as though he were a bear. It was too risky, however, for him to go without it, even as they slept. If they were to be ambushed, Sandor would need to be ready to fight. They had not lie together since the morning before they had fled from Kings Landing, and she was beginning to feel the longing for him deep in her core. She had felt his, too. In the mornings when he first woke, when he believed her to fast asleep, she could feel him hard against her back, even when the two of them weren't speaking. There were times during the day when she could feel him begin to harden against her as well, especially when the road was rough and she bounced against him. He would groan in frustration during those moments, and the veins in the back of his hand would stand out more from the force he was using to grip the reins.

As the days pass by, the amount of tree coverage dwindles to nothing, along with Sandor's patience. Trapping anything had become near impossible, and the amount of edible vegetation disappeared with the remaining forest. The river, while still present, was now shallow and fast moving, making fishing out of the question, no matter how long she try. As they reach the base of the mountain, Sandor is closed off and sullen, much like he had been on the beginning of their journey.

They pass by a small town, and Sandor pushes Stranger to a gallop so as to pass by as quickly as possible. The moment they are out of sight of the town, both of their stomachs begin to grumble loudly just as the sky breaks and begins to soak them to the bone. Still, though, they carry on for two more days. By the third day of soaking rain, thunder and lightening accompany the pelting rain. Sleeping was near impossible, even when Sandor had then pushed snug against the rocks surface in a little dugout carved into the stone. The floor of their stony hideaway had an inch of water in it, whether it had dripped from them or the ceiling, she was uncertain. Sandor stayed away all that night, holding her close to him as she shivered with cold.

Finally, just as Viola begins to believe that she will die before they ever reach the Red Fork, Sandor veers off of the trail they had been following, and onto the main road.

"Where are we going?" Viola shouts over the crack of thunder overhead.

"Deep Den. There's an inn there, we'll stay for the night."

"Is that safe?"

"Probably not. Whole damn place is full of Lannister cunts. Horse can't keep his footing in this mud much longer. And you're damn near frozen to my mail. Gotta get out of this rain."

It is late in the evening by the time they make it to the inn Sandor had mentioned, which turned out to be a brothel instead. He paces Stranger to the stable boy leaning against the doors of the stable and instructs him to take care of all of his needs before reaching into his armor and passing some coin into the boys hand. Every head turns to them they step inside, dripping water and mud onto the wooden floor. Sandor grits his teeth at the man closest to the door, and pulls her forward towards the bar.

"One room, a flagon of wine, and a bath for this one." Sandor gestures towards Viola with his thumb and collapses down onto a warn wooden stool and pulls her down onto his knee, showing every man in the place that she belonged to him. The sound of sex echoes throughout the building, mingling with the shouts and laughter of the men and women occupying every other empty spot in the room. "And bring us something hot and edible. Don't care what it is."

"Sandor." Viola whispers in his ear as she leans back against him. "Are we wanted?"

"Probably." Sandor closes his eyes a moment and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Is it a good idea for us to be here?"

"Don't worry about that. We won't be here long."

Their food, and Sandors wine arrive quickly, and Sandor digs in, slurping and gulping as though he had never eaten in his life. Viola takes a few bites of the lukewarm, nearly black soup before her and her stomach churns at the foul taste of it. It was burnt and sour, as though it had been cooled then reheated a dozen times in as many years. Finally, she gags loudly and passes the bowl to Sandor to finish off, since he didn't seem to mind the taste as much as she had.

A short, plump, angry looking woman appears from a door behind the bar and motions for Sandor to come forward. He gulps the final dregs of wine from his cup and pulls Viola along behind him. The reach the kitchens, where a large wooden tub sat steaming in the center of the room. Sandor nods towards it and stands guard at the door in case anyone from the bar attempts to follow them.

Viola allows the woman to help her peel the soaked clothing from her body before tossing it in a wash basin, taking care to stuff the stocking containing her coin deep into the toe of her shoe. Viola steps into the bath and sucks air between her teeth at the temperature, her toes beginning to tingle and sting at the temperature difference. She washes quickly, her teeth chattering all the while, despite the warmth of the bath. As she steps out, the woman who had ushered them forward hands her a warn, threadbare dress to slip over her head.

Sandor quickly undresses himself and climbs into her murky, brown bath water and quickly washes himself as well.

"Don't have anything that'll fit you." The woman says as she scrubs Viola's dress and wrings out the fabric then pinning it to a line strung near the hearth.

Sandor stands anyway, shakes the water from his hair as though he were a dog, places his hand over his privates, and marches Viola back though the door they had entered and up the stairs.

Viola's face reddens as women begin to howl with laughter and whistle as they pass by. Men laugh and shout, asking if they can have a turn after he is finished. One man even points and laughs at Viola's scared face, which causes Sandor to clench the fist pressed into her back leading her forward and growl at the man, who quickly slinks back into his chair and lowers his fist.

"You're not as ugly as I am, little fox. Don't fret." Sandor assures her as he leads her into an empty room at the top of the stairs.

"I don't think you're ugly."

Sandor barks with laughter and shakes his head at her, a faint smile on his lips. He throws himself backwards on the bed which should be large enough to fit five, but with him atop it, looks as though two would be a struggle. He moans and arches his back, which pops loudly, then rolls his head and stretches his shoulders, popping both his neck and both shoulders in the process. Viola allows herself to sink onto the fur lined bed, and Sandor pulls her tight against his side. Despite the sounds echoing throughout the establishment, her eyes begin to flutter as she sinks further into the bed.

A maid slinging the door open, causing it to pound against the wall behind it causes them both to jump from their sleep with a start as the morning sun showers the room with golden light. Sandor bellows at her to leave while not even bothering to cover himself with his hands as he had the night before. The maid looks him up and down, blushing, and tosses their laundered clothes onto the bed before slamming the door behind her. Sandor runs his hands through his sleep tussled hair pulls on his breeches, then exits the room silently.

Viola's head swims with sleep, and her eyes sting from being awakened with a start, but she felt better than she had in weeks. The little of the soup she had eaten the night before had long since wore off, and her stomach ached and roared with hunger. She stands from the bed and goes to the far corner of the room to splash ice cold, stale water from the basin onto her face to wake herself.

Sandor returns to the room, carrying a tray of food in his hands, and tucked beneath each elbow is both of the water skins. He places the tray on the bed and motions for her to join him. The tray is piled high with cooked apples with sugar, fried eggs, toasted bread with butter, and blood sausage. Sandor polishes off two eggs and three sausages before she even manages to cross the room, and she doubt he had even tasted them, much less chewed them. Viola picks at the cooked apples, and nibbles on a piece of bread as Sandor finishes off all but one sausage and a single egg.

"You can have them." Viola pushes the tray towards him, not up for any more food for herself. Her stomach had shrunk on their journey, and she found herself unable to handle eating much at one time without feeling sick atop the horse.

Sandor finishes the remaining food on the plate, belches loudly, and drains a flagon on wine that had been on the tray. She reaches towards the water skin sitting abandoned on the bed, and the moment she cracks it open, finds it to be filled with wine instead of water. She sighs and sets it back down, then reaches for the second only to find it also filled with wine. She allows Sandor to pour her some into the flagon he had just drained, and sips it slowly, the tartness of the yellow wine causing her cheeks to salivate.

"You don't eat much." Sandor breaks the silence. "You should eat more, before you blow away in the wind, little fox."

"Makes my stomach churn when I'm on the horse if I eat too much."

"Aye. You'll get used to it some day." He sighs and picks his teeth with his thumb nail before flicking whatever was stuck between them across the room. "Stopped raining, we'll leave soon. Change of plans, we're going to follow the Gold Road a few miles, stop at Stone Sept, then cut across to the Red Fork. Should be quicker."

"Okay." Viola mumbles, she had begun to feel as though this journey would never end. The sooner they get to Father, the sooner than can leave for the Free Cities and finally be safe.

Sandor tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear on the burned side of her face, and kisses her gently on the temple. He removes a small, wooden container from the tray she had not seen before, and begins to smear the thick, creamy substance on the burned side of her face. She sniffs at it as he spreads it down her jaw, and realized that it is tallow. Sandor finishes smearing the grease on her face, then smears it across his own, taking extra care on his nose and missing ear.

"You scratch at it in your sleep." He tells her quietly as he places the wooden container back down and wipes the grease from his hands on his breeches.

Viola smiles at him, then crawls across the bed to straddle his lap, not caring in the slightest when the tray tumbles to the floor. She cups Sandor's face in her hands, and kisses him gently. It felt like a lifetime since she had tasted his lips, or felt his strong muscles pressed against her body. She allows one hand to travel down the length of his jaw towards his chest, and sighs against his lips as her fingers trail through his thick chest hair. He moans against her lips as she grinds her hips against his crotch, and it does not take long for him to begin to harden beneath her.

Sandor tears the threadbare, borrowed dress from her body and sucks air between his teeth as his eyes roam down her. He quickly reaches between their bodies and pulls his cock from his breeches, it springs forward as he lines himself up with her and pushes her body down onto him, impaling her fully with his hardened member in one swift motion. They each sigh as he squeezes her hips tightly in his large hands, then guides her slowly up and down on top of him. He had never taken her like this, it had always been him on top, or behind, but this felt different. He reached far further inside of her than she ever thought possible, taking her breath away with each slow, deep thrust.

He releases one hand from her hip and lowers it to tickle her just above where they were joined, the spot he licked when he would bury his head between his thighs and lick her until she screamed. He looks into her eyes, his lips parted slightly and he rubs her as she moans loudly and grips his shoulders in her hands. A smile spreads across his lips when she throws her head back and screams his name when his rubbing causes her to spill over.

"Seven hells, woman." He growls with his face buried in her neck as he lifts her with one hand and tosses her backwards on the bed to drive into her harshly.

He spills loudly, with a deep, rumbling groan deep inside of her for the first time. She stills, her face frozen in passion, her heart pounding in her chest at what he had just done. He always pulled out, always made sure to paint her stomach or back in his release, never had he done it inside of her. He pulls out of her, and she shudders as the warm liquid seeps from within her and begins to cool on her bare thighs. Sandor wipes it with a calloused hand, then tucks himself back into his breeches.

"Sandor…"

"It's been a long time, couldn't be stopped. Had your moonsblood over a fortnight ago, there's no danger in a babe from this."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't worry, little fox, I won't defile you with a Clegane bairn."

"It isn't that I don't want babes with you, I just don't want them here, and I didn't want them at Kings Landing with Joffrey and the queen around to torture them. I want to be somewhere safe, somewhere that's ours."

Back atop Stranger, pressed firmly against Sandors chest, viola closes her eyes and lifts her chin to the sun peeking through large white clouds above them. They had put the town behind them several hours since, and the road so far had been deserted. Sandor drinks greedily from the water skins now filled with wine, and had even bought a third one for her to fill with water from a small shoppe on the outskirts of town. He had filled their saddle bags with bread, cheese, salt meats, jerky, and a few apples for Stranger. Stranger had been in good spirits since they had departed from the town, a good nights rest, a full belly, and from the way Sandor had told it, a good fuck from a fellow horse he had broken through the stall to get at, was all the horse needed. The two were alike in that regard, for Sandor himself had been in high spirits.

He told her of the keep he had grown up in, the dogs his father had raised, and even his childhood dream to be a knight. After telling her of how he had wanted nothing more to be a knight, he grew quiet, but not sullen as he had been in the beginning of their journey. He had both of his hands resting her her lap, pulling her as close to him as possible, and rested his head atop her own for most of the day. He would kiss her temple often, making her smile as his beard would tickle her ear.

"I'm glad it was you." Viola admits.

"Hmm?"

"Of all the men they could have given me to, I'm glad that it was you."