#( ; ooc ) ( i am a “queen in the north!sansa” & “queensguard!sandor” devotee so i hope this setting is agreeable for you 💖 )

[therosepetalrps]

@n0rthsqueen・❥・𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃: for sandor : 〔𝟘𝟛𝟙. 𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 𝕘𝕒𝕫𝕖𝕓𝕠 𝕒𝕤 𝕚𝕥 𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤〕

『✣』 The rain, thin as it was, had already turned the snow to slush beneath his boots. The cold bit at any hint of exposed skin. Sandor was starting to fear that he'd never get used to it. Although he had the colouring of a Northerner, he did not have their veins — which he was sure were shards of icicles beneath their skin.

The weather was hell on his joints and even crueler to his bad leg. Chasing Her Grace around this godsforsaken castle did it no favours either.

He'd gone to her chambers intent on escorting her to the Great Hall for a long morning of conferring with her vassals. She had not been there; an occurrence which he was growing to expect. The little sneak was worse than her sister had been, he swore.

He trudged across the yard, having already checked the library tower, the kitchens, and nearly two dozen corridors. The rain was picking up, and with it, the clouds were smothering the sun's attempt to rise. He approached the small wooden structure built where the godswood met the Glass Gardens. He saw her silhouette, bolstered by the bulk of a dark, fur-lined cloak. He muttered a curse.

In his dun breeches and drab layers of wool and leather, he often looked more peasant than Queensgaurd. But that was indeed his role, in all but name…and livery. No white cloak, nor emblazoned sigils. Not even of his own house. He was no more a Clegane than he was a Targaryen princess. Not anymore. He was a sword, as he'd always been. Though, he was now a sword swung by a far more merciful hand than any that had wielded him before. If she ever let him swing at all.

Sandor stepped onto the decking, the wooden slats creaking beneath his weight, staring at her back.

❝ 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒, ❞ he grunted, by way of greeting. ❝ 𝐍𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍. ❞