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catsteeth · 2 months ago

Text

She's My Collar

Sandor "The Hound" Clegane x Baratheon Princess

+:✿ Request ✿:+

Request: “This request is for sandor of course!! I am all for angsty, yearning sandor clegane!! My train of thought is all over the place but heres a list of something I hope you could include in the one shot: •hozier level yearning •unrequited love/want •perhaps stark!reader or baratheon!reader •fleeting interactions like something small but it sticks with sandor •“im not a religious man but ill follow her” kinda vibe if that makes any sense!!" CW: MDNI, ANGST, afab reader, alcohol consumption, unrequited love, yearning, misogyny, arranged marriage, violence, joffrey being joffrey, mention of death. A/N: He’s pathetic and I love it

Word Count: 5K

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The girl was born a Baratheon, born to Robert Baratheon during a previous marriage. Her mother, born to some wealthy house. But her memory would be lost in time after she died in childbirth. Robert did not speak of her. Cersei despised the mention of her name. So not much was known of her. Though she must’ve been pretty, as the girl born to Robert Baratheon was a girl of beauty. And soon after her mother’s death, Robert married Cersei Lannister.

Either due to jealousy or embarrassment Cersei would treat the girl with malice, and hostility. But unlike the King's eldest son, the girl was kind and good.

The boy was born to a man who wanted nothing more than for his sons to be knights of the Seven Kingdoms. His ambitions blinded him, allowing his eldest son Gregor to commit horrid acts. So long as the boy was a knight, none else mattered. The man's youngest son was kind. He was just a boy, no more than six years old.

The little boy dreamed of being a knight just as his father did. Dreamed on the good deeds he would do in the name of his king and the Seven Kingdoms. Though those dreams would be dashed and discarded once the boy's older brother showed him the cruelty the world is capable of. The cruelty he was capable of. The cruelty the world rewarded him for.

The boy grew into The Hound, Sandor Clegane the second most feared man in the Seven Kingdoms. The girl grew into a princess, one hated by her stepmother and eldest half brother. But loved by her father, her half siblings, the realm, and by a Hound.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

The Hound and the princess grew alongside one another most of his life. He could remember when he and she were much younger. The Lannisters and the Baratheons were traveling across the Stormlands. It was a hard journey, soon food became scarce. Naturally the scraps of whatever the royals did not eat were left to the guards and any other member of the traveling crew. But the princess would offer a young hound the meat from her plate every night. He always hesitated, but was too hungry to deny her charity. She never held her charitable act over him, never even mentioned it.

He was not one to appreciate beauty, nor was he one to indulge himself in fantasies of love. But the princess’s beauty was one that haunted Sandor. His whole life he looked at her as though she were the maiden herself. And the princess did not look upon the Hound with grotesque curiosity. Nor did she flaunt his presence to others in a manner of threatening them. No, the princess was kind towards him, kind when she did not have to be. He often found kindness a weakness in people, but in her kindness he found a comfort.

The girl was different from her father, different from her brother. She was kind, she was honest, and he would follow her as if she was a God.

He could also remember the first time she bestowed her favor onto him.

Sandor never feared the tourneys he fought in. He did not fear the joust, he did not fear the competitors. What he did not like was the tradition of asking a noble lady for her favor.

Sandor never liked this tradition. Never liked having to speak to noble ladies much less ask them to favor him. Not only was it ridiculous to him, the ladies often grimaced at his gesture. But at this tourney, and every tourney after it, he would pick the lady he wished to have picked each time before.

As he rode his intimidatingly large black ill tempered stallion around the tournament pit. He looked up at all the noble ladies above him, looking down at him. They all sneered at his gaze, wishing not to be picked. The noble men all snickered amongst one another. But there was one person who looked upon him with indifferent eyes. The Baratheon girl’s eyes were not filled with pity, disgust, nor anticipation for the violence he was about to insight for the high lord's entertainment. She simply watched him with her same kind eyes.

He did not think much of it, it came naturally to him as he stopped his horse in front of the royal family's seating. “I ask the favor of the Princess.” He said begrudgingly.

The princess rose from her seat with a smile. She grabbed a ring of florals and silk. The flowers were yellow and the silk ribbon was black, the colors of both her house and his. As she approached him, she smiled upon him and placed the favor upon his joust. “I wish you good fortune, Sandor Clegane.” Sandor, he did not know she knew his name. Her voice itself was gentle and hushed, only for him to hear. Her smile was gentle and warm, one that he would have killed to see each night. One that he won the tourney for.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

Once, Joffrey had decided that a servant boy had shot him a momentary disrespectful glance. If he had, it would not have been unwarranted, though who is to say if he even did. Joffrey, sometimes bored, would pretend small disrespectful gestures were made against him. Allowing him to justify any horrid act he found amusement in subjecting any poor soul to.

“I am sorry, my prince! Please if you would give me another chance-” The servant boy pleaded on his hands and knees. His cheek red from the blow Ser Meryn had given him moments before.

Sandor never liked being Joffrey's sworn shield. Never liked that blonde cunt at all. Whenever he wanted to feel powerful, wanted to hurt someone weaker than him for no good reason, it bored and irritated him.

Though it hardly ever embarrassed him, until she stepped into that room.

“Brother stop this!” The Baratheon princess commanded with a look of disgust. Sandor, though he’d not laid a hand on the boy, swallowed hard and stood straighter at her sudden presence. He worried how she’d look at him now, would her kind eyes fade for him?

“Why should I?” Joffrey asked her back with a raised brow.

The girl, bravely scoffed and took a few steps closer to her younger ‘brother’, “Because I commanded you to.” She said with angry eyes, an expression Sandor rarely saw from her. She looked beautiful even when she was angry.

Joffrey narrowed his eyes at her, “Who are you to command anything of me?” he stifled a laugh which only enraged her more. And only enraged Sandor more.

She took another step closer to him. Her hand gently trailed along the extravagantly dressed wooden table. “Your elder sister, the Kings first born-”

“First born daughter.” Joffrey finished her words for her. “Daughter. You are not heir to anything. I’ll be king one day and you, a princess for a lifetime.” He said laughing as if he were amused by some great jest. “And as your king, I could have anything done to you that I like.” He walked closer to her, with a threatening gaze. “In fact, as heir to the throne, I could do anything I like. I could have Ser Meryn hold you down and-” And with that the girl's temper got the better of her. She grasped a glass goblet from the table she stood by, and threw it with great force at her brother’s feet. The goblet shattered into a hundred pieces. Bits of it flew and cut Joffrey’s right hand. And some other bits cut Sandor’s cheek, not deeply but enough to bleed. “You cannot do that!” His shrill voice cracked as he grasped hold of bleeding palm.

“Clearly I can.” The girl said with little emotion. It would have made Sandor laugh if he didn’t have to worry about the other royal guards. He worried that they would put their filthy hands on you, or would be foolish enough to draw their swords.

Though none would. The guards were shocked by the scene. This princess had never done so much as raised her voice, and now she was assaulting their future kind. They had to think of defending one of the King’s children from the other. They stood, unsure of how to act.

Furiously Joffrey shouted, “I’ll tell my mother!” Knowing his father would do nothing but ridicule him.

The princess raised her hand, and slapped the boy across the cheek, “Tell her I did that as well.” She added.

Her slap was enough to leave a red imprint across the boy's face.

In a fit of anger, the young prince grabbed hold of his sword. Prepared to draw its blade and point it at the princess. Just before Sandor could grab the prince, a different Kingsgaurd stepped between the two royals. “Stop this!” the man commanded. Joffrey let go of the sword's hilt and the girl began to walk away, ready to face whatever punishment her step mother desired.

With her back turned, and the guards' attentions divided. Joffrey ceased his moment, and drew the thin blade of his sword and readied himself to strike the princess.

“Boy!” The princess turned back as the Hound’s loud voice boomed out through the dining hall. She was stunned by the sight before her. The prince’s attack was stopped by the Hound ceasing the blade with his bare hand. Blood from his hand trickled down the blade of the sword.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Soon the two royal children were brought before their father the King.

“How the fuck did any of this happen? You are meant to protect my blood!” King Robert questioned the KingsGuard furiously.

“Never had to protect a princess from a prince.” Ser Meryn attempted to explain, “Or a prince from a princess.” He said in a lower tone that angered Joffrey.

“Shut up!” King Robert angrily shouted, sick of hearing whatever excuse they had. He sat back in his chair, and huffed loudly. He looked between his two children. “Well done, my girl.” He said in a gruff low tone.

Joffrey looked surprised his father would congratulate her on striking her brother. “But look what she-“ Joffrey began, holding up his cut palm.

Though Robert interrupted him, “How could you ever be a king if you cannot win a fight against a woman?”

“Father!” Joffrey’s shrill voice shouted,

“Leave!” Robert shouted back. With an infuriated huff, Joffrey left accompanied with two guards by his side. Though Sandor stayed in the room. “Girl, come ‘ere.” Robert commanded much softer to his daughter, waving his hand, beckoning her to come closer.

She did as her king commanded. Stepped closer to him with her head lowered. Robert stood before her, and held her chin up with his fingers. “You’re more of a man than your brother.” He said proudly. He meant it as a complement, it was a rare thing to receive as a child of Roberts. With a sigh he patted the girl on the back, “Go on then.” He said softly dismissing her.

She nodded and took her leave as her father requested.

As the girl left, Sandor turned to follow her out. Though the King’s voice beckoned out, stopping him in his steps. “Dog.” Sandor stopped, and turned towards the King, “If that yellow haired shit lays a hand on my girl you beat him.” The King commanded. Sandor needed no other instruction. He was quite content to do so. “Understood?” The King pressed.

Sandor nodded, “Aye.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As the Hound walked down the Halls of the keep, he saw the princess walking in the opposite direction. He tried to keep his eyes ahead, not looking at her at all.

Though his illusion of disinterest did not deter the girl, “I beg pardon, ser.” Her serene voice called out gently. It felt like a cool breeze on a hot day, a relief.

Sandor looked up at her, hoping she was not speaking to him. If she was, he knew whatever words she spoke to him would haunt his thoughts. As he looked at her, he knew she was speaking to him. He swallowed and then croaked out, “I’m no ser.”

The Baratheon princess shook her head, “No. You are more true than any knight.” He knew her words would haunt him, but now they would torture him. The girl stepped forward, making him almost flinch, “All the knights in that room were content to let my brother kill me. What you did today-“

The girl began but the Hound interrupted her, knowing if she thanked him, his stomach might turn. “It’s my duty to protect you.” He grumbled, attempting to not look the girl in the eyes. Her beautiful eyes.

“I’d call it brave.” She chimed, making him stop and turn to face her once again. He was about to tell her it was not brave but she continued, “But I know you’d not. You are a hard man with many scars. You needn’t courage, nor praise. But I thank you for what you've done.”

Fuck.

He was never thanked for doing his duty. Never thanked for anything. He was commanded and he did as he was told.

Her eyes wandered over the Hound’s face. It made him feel weak, for the first time in a very long time. “I am sorry-” She said, her voice sickeningly sweet. Sandor looked at her with confusion, “Are you hurt?” She asked as she reached her hand towards the cut on his cheek. Her sudden movement made him flinch.

“No.” He rasped quickly.

The girl however was scared of the Hound. She continued forward and placed a hand on the Hounds shoulder. Even though her hand was separated from his skin by his thick armor, he still felt a chill run over his body. “Oh but you are-” She began, concerned for him. A feeling that was new for him.

“It’s a scratch.” Sandor interrupted the girl.

She shook her head, “Still, I caused it.” The girl reached into the neckline of her gown, making Sandor almost blush. Such a strange thing, a man who had seen every part of a woman, and every sexual act no matter how deviant in almost every brothel in KingsLanding would blush at such a thing. She pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with her name, “Take this.” She said holding it out to him.

He could not take it. He could not, no matter how badly he wanted to. “Don’t need it-”

“I command you to take it, as your princess.” The girl said without hesitation. Reluctantly Sandor grabbed the cloth, “I am sorry.” She said once more before continuing on and walking past Sandor.

She did not know that he would worship that cloth. Keep it in his armor, and keep it in his rooms when he slept.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

When Robert mixed drinking and hunting too often, a boar attacked him. Leaving him so injured he was on a deathbed.

The princess visited her father each day, morning, noon, and night. And when he died, she stayed confined to her chambers. Her only company she’d allow was her Septa. Though the girl was grown enough to be without a Septa, hers was closer to a mother. Since the girl never had one, her septa was there for all her girlhood. So she insisted on keeping around.

Sandor often checked on the girl, though of course she was not wise to this.

He would open her door, just a crack. He would listen in just to be sure she was alright. One day when he decided to open her door he heard her and her Septa speaking plainly.

“Do you think the boar was the Gods doing?” The girl asked as she stared out her window with a stoic and dazed expression.

“Hm?” Her septa responded, looking up from the needlepoint she mindlessly toyed at.

The girl did not look at her septa. Simply continued to stare out her window into nothingness. She paused for a moment, not speaking, “I’d a dream the Stranger came to those woods. He changed into a boar and killed my father for his deviance.” She spoke of such morbid dreams with no emotion attached to it at all.

“How awful.” Her septa gasped, throwing her needle point down onto the table in front of her. “No dear girl I don’t think it was.” She said more gently, “You dream too much.”

The girl shrugged, still not looking at the old woman. “I suppose I’m trying to find the Gods in everything I do.”

“Prayer is best for that. Not such morbid dreams.” The old Septa said, picking her needle point back up.

The girl did not respond for a moment, still simply staring out into nothing. “Do you think they’re real?” She asked softly and without shame. “Do you truly believe it? Never did you doubt it?” She asked, finally looking at the Old Septa.

“They are real.” She asserted sternly, “You believe they aren’t?”

The girl sighed, not wanting for a lecture, “I know the Gods are a necessity for people. Like food, water. I know they must exist. But I also know they don’t.” She said calmly. Her words stuck with Sandor like a knife driven into his back.

“What a terrible thing to say.” Her septa said shocked.

“Is it?” The girl's eyes narrowed in confusion, “It’s just my thoughts.”

The septa shook her head looking back to her needle point. “You think too much, dear girl.”

The girl sighed and went back to looking out her window, “Seems I do too much and not enough.”

Without many words at all, this lonely girl would consume Sandor’s every thought. She was smart and kind. Two things Sandor did not think of himself.

He did not believe in the Gods, because if there were Gods, why did they punish this girl? Perhaps she was his punishment. Perhaps he was hers. Perhaps it was the world that was their punishment.

This girl should be queen. She’d be a good one, a better one then her cunt brother. She’d be loved by the small folk and no doubt able to keep some kind of peace, even with the war. She’d not let her pride keep the seventh kingdom. If they wanted independence they’d have it. Clearly they could fight well enough on their own. But she was not queen. But she was his.

How her hair laid against the delicate fabric of her pillow. She was all too precious for his affections. He couldn’t help it really, he felt drawn towards her. Felt a stronger pull towards her than he felt towards anything, even food or water. But he’d never subject her to his presence.

He simply needed to see her, needed to know she was safe.

She slept sweetly, her breathing though loud was the calmest noise he’d heard. It was like the sounds of waves meeting the sands.

Sometimes, not often, but sometimes he would fantasize about what it would feel like to sleep beside her. For her to invite him into her bed. To sleep in his arms. He’d feel her heartbeat against his own. He’d smell her scent, and feel her chest rise and fall with each breath. He never slept well, but he believed if she was in his arms, perhaps he could.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As time went by, the royal family debated what to do with the girl. She was not a Baratheon Lannister, she was the reminder of Robert's first marriage, a reminder that Joffrey was not the true king.

Sandor stood guard by the small council’s chamber door as he heard the girl’s step mother Cersei say, “She’s as wild as the boar that killed her father. No man would want her, she is too difficult. So give her to the Tyrell’s, a poisoned gift.”

Overcome with a myriad of emotions, anger, sadness, and grief, Sandor rushed to the girl's chambers.

Sandor stood behind her door. His hand firmly grasped the door handle, and his forehead rested against the wood of the door.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity.

He wanted to open the door, ask- no beg you to run away with him. He wanted to tell you all the things he felt for you. Wanted to protect you.

But he was a second son, a kingsguard, he had no land, and no money. He had nothing to offer you, he didn’t even have a handsome face to bargain with.

And so, he let the handle of the door go, and he walked down the hall. He considered it mercy.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Instead of subjecting that poor girl to his company he decided to subject tavern dwellers to him instead. That night, as her marriage was announced, Sandor sank into his cups.

Though even there he was not protected from talks of her betroval.

Beside Sandor at another table were four men,

“Say what you will, I think it’s a perfect match! Loras Tyrell loves a Baratheon!” Some oaf shouted as he slammed his cup onto the table laughing.

“Aye but she’s missin’ a cock now isn’t she!” A shorter guard shouted out.

Sandor wanted to break the fool's jaws for speaking of her situation with such amusement. “Too bad for Loras, and too bad for all the other men in the realm!” A bald guard added,

The shorter guard raised his cup, “Hear hear. I’ll miss seeing that girl… Miss seeing her bend over to pick flowers.”

The bald guard nodded in a facade of sadness, “Aye that ass will be missed-”

“No, her pair of tits will be missed!” The fatter guard spoke up.

“Nay her cunt! Ah and what a waste she’ll be giving it to a boy whore.” One of the men said, it was enough for Sandor to slam his cup onto the table in anger. He was trying with all his might to hold onto his restraint.

Though this did not go unnoticed by the men at the table. The oafish one spoke up again, “What of you Clegane?” He said getting closer to the Hound, “You guard that sweet stag so loyally. Surely you’ve thought of what her cunt tastes like-”

Without another thought, Sandor took the man by the back of his head and slammed it into the table. His nose broke and his teeth cracked. Sandor took his dagger out and stabbed it through the man's hand. His blade took one of the man’s fingers.

Sandor stood, taking his drink with him, “You speak to me like that again, I’ll take more than a finger.” He warned as he left the tavern in a huff.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

Against his better judgment, that night Sandor checked in on that girl.

She was with her Septa again. He hoped that she were alone, if she were perhaps in his drunken state he’d have actually begged her to run off with him.

“My father would never have allowed this.” The girl said with a scared and sorrowful waiver of her voice, “Though I suppose it will be a relief to be gone from this place.” She sniffled, “I just don’t want to be forgotten.”

“You’ll not be forgotten, dear girl.” Her Septa said petting her hair.

“I suppose if I were to marry anyone in this city it would be him.” She shrugged, “But, I am unsure of how I could please him. You know of his nature. Know of his relationship with my uncle. I care not for any moral righteousness and I hold no judgment of it. But how could I ever make him happy?” She asked desperately, frightened by the prospects of her future.

Her Septa grasped the girl by her shoulders tightly, “You will make him happy by giving his children royal blood.”

“And how can I even do that?” The girl put her face into her hands,

“You are familiar with the act, I have explained it-”

The girl interrupted, “I won’t want it.”

Her Septa sighed, “A dreadful duty for some wives. Just lay there. Look at the ceiling and memorize the pattern of the trim. Count the seconds. Anything to let your mind wander away from your body.” She tried her best to comfort the girl, but clearly was doing nothing to help the girl’s fear.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

As Sandor took leave of his duties. He threw off his armor without caution, and nearly ripped his clothing off himself. He was angry, no, he was enraged.

This girl did not deserve this. She deserved none of the shit those blonde shits put her through. And the words of ‘advice’ given to her by her septa only enraged him more. She should have told her to slip poison in his wine.

Sandor sat down on his bed in his small clothes with a huff. His weight made the bed creek and bow. He drank from a wineskin as he thought of it all. Soon his anger subsided, replaced with a defeated sorrow.

Naught could be done for her. This much he knew for certain.

So, after his wineskin ran dry he laid down. Finally allowing his body to rest even though his mind could not.

As he laid there, stripped of his armor and steel. As his sensitive skin laid against the rough material of his bedding he was reminded once more that he, and his body were punished. Punished by both too much, and not enough.

Too much combat, too much drinking, too many tourneys, too many cuts and bruises. So much he endured, and his body was punished for it. He ached and felt pains all over his body all the time. His scars were sensitive and hurt in warm bath water.

But as he laid there he was again reminded how he had not enough. Not enough gentle touches, enough love and care. Though of course he’d never admit it to anyone. His body felt truly alone in his bed. He wished he could have felt her around him. He’d fucked before, that would not shock anyone. But he’d never made love to anyone. And Gods did he need to.

He thought of it often, kissing her. He’d do it gently. He’d be gentle with her. She deserved gentleness. He’d kiss her while he held her face in his palms. Kiss her neck, press his lips against her skin and lick where she was most sensitive- wherever those spots were. Gods he wanted to know where they were.

He felt shameful for thinking this way, he really did. He was no better than those men in that tavern. But, he’d be good to her.

He’d make her his wife, in the eyes of The Seven. He’d build her a home. It wouldn’t be like the one she’d been brought up in. Not a castle, but a house made of stone and wood. He’d give her safety, love. And as his hand began to wonder his punished body he thought of how he’d give her children.

He wished to know how her body would feel in hands. How it would feel to have his hands caress her breasts, the curves of her body, the soft plumpness of her belly. He wondered how it would feel to be inside of her. How his cock would feel to slide in and out of her slick, warm, inviting cunt. He did not know, but he did know it would have felt oh so much better than his calassed hand that was wrapped around his length now.

Though his actions were vulgar and sexual, he did not think of it as that. He couldn’t think of her for long without feeling the need to have her. To be close to her. To please her. To hold her close and make her feel safe under his touch, to make her feel loved and desired with his body, his hands, and his mouth.

He thought of what her septa told her. That she’d have to lay down and take it. If she was with him she’d want it, she’d never be forced. Bedding would be a pleasure not a duty.

His groans loudened, and his breathing quickened as he thought of how she’d ask him for it. How gentle her touch would feel on his ruined skin.

Soon he was awoken from his day dream as the hot splash of his release jolted his mind back to reality.

He did not have her, and she for all he knew, did not want him.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

And so the Hound was left with nothing to do but sit and watch as the love of his life was preparing to leave his life forever.

He felt his heart breaking as he escorted the royals to the docks with the rest of the Kingsguard. He felt his eyes water as she began to step onto the dock, and approach the boat that would take her away from him.

Naught could be done for her.

So without a word the Hound offered the girl his hand. She took it, gently. He helped her into the boat. Her gaze fell onto him, and Gods it felt warm. He wanted to cut through them all. Wanted to take her off that boat and ride her away on Stranger. He’d do all the things he thought of the night before. Build her a home, keep her safe, and he’d love her. But they didn’t live in that world.

The princess would marry that Tyrell. She’d have his sons, whether she wanted it or not. And she would never know how much her dog loved her.

The Hound watched as the boat sailed away with the girl he had loved all his life.

It’s the world that’s awful.

Thank you so much for your request! It was so much fun to write!!

Requester: @rhinestonecowboysworld

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orangesparks · 2 months ago

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the pictures used are not mine! i got them all from pinterest

#medieval relationships seem so poetic idk #⚔️ – game of thrones #🫶🏻 – my s/o’s #sandor clegane #knight x princess #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane x you #sandor clegane x oc #the hound #the hound x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones desired reality #game of thrones dr #game of thrones shifting #game of thrones oc #got

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axelsagewrites · 1 year ago

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Sandor Clegane*Brat

Pairing: sandor x f!princess!reader

Kinktober Day twenty-three: brat taming with Sandor Clegane – after growing sick of a princess’s bratty attitude Sandor decides to teach her how to behave

Word count: 2147

Warnings: brat taming, secret relationship, teasing, reader being a brat, jamie slut shaming, fingering, p in v sex, rough sex, spanking, degrading, swearing, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

Your footsteps were somehow both silent and quicker than his horses, something Sandor loathed as he chased about after you. being your personal guard was apparently an honour however the past two years of this honour made him consider if locking princesses in a tower was still socially acceptable.

While sure you had your moments of being tolerable, sometimes even pleasant, to the giant they called your guard dog, right now was not one of them. Usually, he appreciated your sarcastic remarks to your younger brother Joffrey, agreeing with most of your snippy quips, however today it had led to a fight between you both.

This then led to you storming around the castle, with Sandor falling behind, then to a fight with your mother which Sandor had to listen to through a door despite being absolutely starving, then when he could finally go and eat you decided to go on a walk through the forest unannounced and he had to track you down and bring you back.

“Try not to get lost again princess,” Sandor said through gritted teeth, trying not to let his stomach grumble.

You rolled your eyes as you sat on your love seat in front of the fire. “I was never lost. You just couldn’t find me,”

Sandor rolled his eyes as he went to leave however Jamie fucking Lannister decided to stop him. “The queens requested for you to stay in this room and guard the princess,”

“What about my fucking break?” Sandor spat back, not having the same gentle voice as your uncle.

“Well, it will have to wait. There are Dornish ambassadors riding into court and we cannot risk her getting…lost again,” Jamie said, and you couldn’t help stifling a laugh making Sandor want to fling you out of a window. Jamie leaned in closer, whispering to Sandor and getting his slimy breath all over him, “Prince Oberyn is coming, and we cannot risk her sullying her reputation,” he said however only Sandor was able to hear him.

“But me staying in her room all night is fine?”

Jamie looked the hound up and down before putting on his most cunty smile, “Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone will question your activities. Goodnight Clegane, best behaviour princess,” Jamie called to you before leaving, the door slamming behind him.

Sandor Groaned as he began to strip off his cloak. Like fuck was he gonna be kitted up all night in this. “What did he whisper?” you asked, reaching over to grab a grape. Sandor couldn’t tell if the way you popped it in his mouth made him more hungry, horny, or fucking angry.

“Prince Oberyn is coming to court,” Sandor said as he tossed his cloak on a chair, “So I’ve to guard you all night so you don’t go falling in his bed,”

Most women would gasp or swoon or deny the accusation, but you just barked out a laugh. It was another one of your few redeeming qualities in Sandors eyes. “How much of a whore does he think I am?” you joked, picking up your wine. Sandor stomped over to the table, snatching the wine from your grip before plopping down in a chair. “Hey!”

“Hay is for horses,” he grumbled, gulping down the wine, “You’ve been a fucking brat all day, the least you owe me is a drink,”

“My, my, swearing in front of a lady, a princess no less,” you tsked at him as Sandor began to unbuckle his armour, “Not very honourable of you ser,”

“I’m no ser,” he said, discarding the battered metal as he reached for the next piece, “And besides I’ve done far less honourable things to you than curse in front of you,” this was of course his favourite quality in his princess. Even when you annoyed him to his core you were still the best fuck he’s ever had. “Fuck you’ve said worse things than I have,”

“Like what?”

“You know what,” he chuckled, beginning to undo his breast plate which would leave him in just a shirt and trousers. “You and that dirty mouth of yours,” he said, thinking back to all the thoughts and whimpers you’d moaned in his ear.

He did his best not to meet your eyes as they travelled down his frame, “Watcha gonna do about it?” however sent a spark down his spine. Prince Oberyn was not the one they should be worried about sullying your reputation.

Sandor dropped the metal breast plate, ignoring the clatter in made as it hit the floor as he moved to stand in front of you. his hand gripped your jaw, easily holding your whole face as he made you look him in the eye, “Don’t test me princess. You’re already on thin fucking ice,”

“Why would I want to be on ice when I could be on your…” you said, eyes trailing down his frame with a fiery spark.

He growled as his lips smashed into yours for a brief kiss that knocked the air out of your lungs. He broke the kiss, pushing your frame back into the love seat making you gasp. Within seconds his boots were off, and his arm was around your waist, hosting you over his shoulder making you squeal. Your back hit the soft bed as you desperately tried to sit up, but he was already on top of you.

“How expensive is this dress?” he asked, his fingers trailing the neckline.

“Your annual salary,” you replied and gasped when a tear ripped through the air, “Sandor!” you gasped as the cold air washed over your bare chest, your nipples perking at the feeling.

He’d ripped it just enough to be able to pull it off your body without having to hassle with any ties or laces, “Please as if you wont just pout and get a new one,” he scoffed.

“I don’t pout!” you objected, now feeling more exposed under his hungry eyes.

Sandor laughed, his eyes moving from your tits back to your face, “All you do is pout princess. All fucking day,” he said, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb tracked over your pouted lip, “And all day I’ve been having to look at these fucking lips,” he said, his thumb prying open your mouth so he could stick his thumb inside, pressing down on your tongue, “and think about how much better they’d look around my cock,”

His words sent a shiver down your spine that didn’t go unnoticed by Sandor. “Is someone excited?” he asked, his hand gripping your thigh before slipping between them. His fingers trailed up your slit and you felt his chest rumble as he chuckled, “So wet for me already,” he said, his smile dropping for a moment, “Suck,” he commanded.

Instantly you complied, sucking on his thumb and trying not to whine as he rubbed slow circles on your clit, “Good girl,” his head dipped, moving to kiss along your collar bones as his thumb slipped from your mouth. He rubbed the spit over your bottom lip before his hand moved to tilt your jaw up, giving him space to kiss softly up your neck.

You bit your lip, slight whimper escaping as he worked on your bundle of nerves. When his fingers slipped away you whined but gasped when you felt him push two in, “Cmon don’t act like you cant take it,” he chastised, nipping at your skin enough to make you gasp but never to leave a mark, “I’ve seen you take far bigger,” he said, grinding his bulge against your leg to emphasis what was to come.

His fingers began to curl slowly inside as his thumb rested over your clit. When you whined again, this time louder and enough to make his cock twitch in his trousers, he moved his other mouth to clamp over your mouth, “Quiet,” he grumbled, curling his fingers deeper making you moan against his hand, “You know the rules princess,”

You nodded, meeting his eyes for a moment before they shut as his fingers began to brush against a familiar spot. You could feel your peak soon arriving but when you felt him pull his fingers out not even his hand could fully cover the loud whine you made. “Gods you really are a desperate thing,” he chastised, his hands moving to squeeze your hips tightly.

Before you could protest, he’d flipped you on your stomach, hand coming down on your ass leaving a stinging slap. “Hey!” you whined only to be met with another slap.

“Behave,” he chastised, keeping one hand on your ass, fondling it as the other moved to push down his breeches, “Maybe if you behave I’ll let you finish around my cock,” he said, gripping it with one hand and with the other forcing you onto your knees, ass presented perfectly for him, “Bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? me fucking you silly like some whore,” he said, running his tip up and down your wet cunt making you whine.

Instead of responding you grabbed a pillow, moving to lay your face in it when Sandor suddenly grabbed your hair, “I asked you a fucking question,” he growled, his tip pushing in slightly as your back arched.

“Yes,” you stuttered out.

“Yes what?” he asked, pulling your hair tighter, pushing slightly further in.

“Yes, I want your cock please I need it,” you whined, your hips trying to move further back onto to be stopped by Sandor, “Please I’ll be good,”

Sandor let go of your hair, your body lurching forward as you fell back into the pillow, “Wonder when I’ve heard that before,” he grunted, his hands moving to squeeze the soft flesh of your ass refusing to push his tip any further in.

“I promise,” you whined, gripping at the pillow, “I’ll behave I promise I-fuck,” you whined as you felt his cock sink further in.

Sandor hissed as he felt your cunt squeeze around him as he pushed his way in till he felt himself fully inside. He left one more slap to your ass, smirking at the way you bit the pillow instead of protesting at the stinging slap, before he started to set a steady pace.

His thrusts were slow and precise at first, making your whole-body lurch forward as he fucked you and your fingers tightened in the sheets. He could hear the stifled whines you let out and reached forward to grab your hair once more, this time gentler as he turned your head till the pillow muffled your mouth. Before you could question him, you moaned into the fabric as his pace began to quicken.

His slow thrusts had turned into heavy pounds that shook your body and made a knot grow in your stomach. His spare hand moved to squeeze your hip one more time before slipping forward to rub fast circles onto your clit. His grunts and groans were like music to your ears as your legs began to quake but falling was not an option.

Sandor cursed at the way your cunt squeezed around his cock, sucking in breath as he screwed his eyes shut. Despite how hard it was for him not to finish right there he had a job to do. He bit his lip, opening his eyes to appreciate the sight beneath him.

He could hear your muffled moans through the pillow and felt the way your body jerked and squeezed around him. “Aw is my little princess gonna cum?” he teased, his thrusts growing harder, “does she deserve to cum around my cock?” he asked but your response was muffled. Sandor pulled your hair, lifting your mouth up from the pillow, “I asked you a question,”

“Please sir,” you moaned like music to his ears, “Fuck please let me please,” you begged.

“Do it then,” he grunted, shoving your face back into the pillow, “Cum around my cock like a good whore,” his words were all it took to push you over the edge as your peak crashed around you.

However, this was not going to make him stop. Instead, his thrusts became harder and less precise as he fucked you mercilessly chasing his high while you rode yours out with eyes rolled back into your skull. It didn’t take long for him to feel the familiar twitch and suddenly pull out. With only two more jerks his seed spilled across your ass as his eyes screwed shut. “Fuck,” he gasped once he felt he could breathe again. Gently he moved his arms to lay you down on the bed.

You were too busy catching your breath to notice him searching for something till you felt him running a damp cloth over your ass to clean you up. “Still think I’m a brat?” you asked, still trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck yes. But you’re my brat,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy @valeskafics

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justagirlwholikesadam · 1 year ago

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Realm's Delight

Summary: You were the twin of the dark haired child Cersei had with Robert. While fever took your twin, you survived. You are known throughout the seven kingdom as the realm's delight. The years has passed and your younger brother Joffrey wants something you have. Sandor Clegane x Baratheon! Reader

A/n: Let me know if you enjoy this. Likes and comments are appreciated. Enjoy -L

Warning: NSFW, being the it girl, Joffrey being Joffrey, Robert is nice to us, manipulation at its finest, daddy's girl, princess wants princess gets, territorial!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“It was a miracle.” Robert Baratheon, your father told you. You had survived the horrid fever that took your twin brother away. It was a secret that was kept among the Lannisters and only Robert. While Cersei was in mourning of the loss of her son, Robert’s was cut short. Cersei always resented him for that and that he gave you his undivided attention. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knew how Robert adored you. Some had even said that he loves you more than his own wife, Cersei and as you grew, he practically gave you whatever your heart desired. Your father wasn’t the only one to give you gifts. Fur straight from House Stark, jewels and the finest dresses from House Martell. Seafood freshly caught by House Greyjoy. The list of gifts went on and on. You were named the realm’s delight among the people.

When Robert learned about the nickname that you have been given he feared that you will have the same fate as Lyanna Stark. Robert decided to do what was best, keep you protected at all times. Robert declared for Sandor Clegane to become your personal guard. Cersei had cried out to Robert about it. He is a monstrosity and hideous beast, she ranted. You heard of the Clegane’s brothers. Lord Baelish always been somewhat kind enough to keep you up to date about the accomplishments Ser Gregor had done along with Sandor’s.

“A flower like you shouldn’t be guarded by such an animal.” Lord Baelish exclaimed as his wandering eyes looked up and down that you. You grabbed a hold of his hands. Lord Baelish blushed from the sudden contact.

“I will grow to be the most beautiful flower because of that animal.” You whispered to Lord Baelish who honestly wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying.

You were so close to him, his mind was in the gutters. Rolling your eyes when you turn away to leave Lord Baelish, you wipe your hands on your dress while walking away from him. Men, they will always think with their cock. Cersei had told you after she had too many cups of wine. Your uncle, Jamie had laughed at her and tried to take her back to her chambers before she said anything else. That’s how you used Lord Baelish to tell you about the gossip going around. A praise, batting your eyelashes at him or giving him a smile was all needed for him to tell you what you wanted to know.

When Sandor was presented to you for the first time, you were surprised. He was the second tallest man you ever seen, his brother was the first. He had lowered his head as he entered the chambers so he wouldn’t hit the door frame. Robert had taken your hand and pulled you towards Sandor. You noticed Sandor had the most beautiful brown eyes you've ever seen. Brown, like the earth and as the light hit his eyes, they looked like honey. You got a closer look when he knelt in front of you and vowed to keep you safe. You knew about the story of his burn scars. It took you an afternoon with Lord Baelish, drinking tea to learn about it. You had taken a liking to Sandor when he became your guard. He was too silent for your liking but that meant you had to break his walls down.

Sandor stood and waited with you outside of your mother’s chambers. She was going to give birth to her second child. Sandor had mumbled to you to keep still since you kept walking back and forth, worried every time you heard your mother’s screams. You were about to say something when the screams stopped. Joffrey was born, and he was healthy. King Robert had his heir to the iron throne. Cersei had two other children after that and your relationship with her became unsteady. Sandor would cast a look at you whenever someone mentioned to you about Joffrey’s and your siblings' golden locks as they grew. You gave them a smile and answered. “They have been blessed with the Lannister’s golden hair.”

He knew you weren’t an idiot, he ignored when people said you were and sometimes when in a bad mood he slayed them whenever they expressed their opinions about it to him loudly. All beauty but nothing in your head. He wanted to tell them how wrong they were. He had spent hours with you in the dusty library of the castle. Seen you excelled in your studies. The winning smile you gave them disappears the moment they leave your sight.

“Something to say, my beloved Sandor?” The tips of Sandor’s ears grew hot by your affectionate words. You had a habit of calling him all sorts of names after both of you grew closer. You didn't want to admit it to Sandor but you like seeing him squirm after calling him those sweet names.

“No, princess.” He croaked out when you gave a cheeky smile. He immediately looked down at the ground.

“Do you think father will ever notice?” You ask Sandor and he looks back at you. You were being serious.

Sandor shook his head, no. “Maybe if he stops drinking and catches a break from his whores, I reckon he might see it. Unfortunately I can’t say anything. As much as father loves me more, I fear I will be punished if I say it.”

Sandor was right you weren’t the dumb princess everyone seems to think. As the time passed, Joffrey and the rest of your siblings grew; it's been nearly 16 years. You had finally managed to get out of a marriage proposal that your father mentioned to you. Sandor was waiting outside as he heard your voice behind your father’s chambers door. He couldn’t help but grin when he heard the hearty laughter from the King.

“Thank you, father. I knew you would be able to understand. That’s why you are the most wonderful King to ever live.” Sandor heard you say before walking out.

Sandor watched as you shut the door behind you and pointed at the staircase nearby. Sandor looked around his surroundings, making sure no one was in sight. He walked a few steps down and turned to see you walking towards him. He lets out a huff when you jump on him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Seven hells.” Sandor cursed when kissed his cheek, attacking him with kisses. Sandor moved to capture your lips with his.

“I take it. It went well.” Sandor said, pulling you close to him. You nodded with a grin.

“Father can be very kind when he’s drunk out of his mind.” You told him as he put you down on the steps. Both of you froze at the sound of Joffrey’s voice, he was coming up the steps. Sandor immediately took a few steps away from you.

“Oh look, it’s my dear sister.”

“Hello, my dear brother.” You greeted Joffrey in the same sarcastic tone. The blonde stood a few steps down from you with Ser Meryn Trant behind him.

“Dog.” Joffrey said. “My-.”

“You mean Sandor.” You cut Sandor off. Your harsh tone wiped the smirk off Joffrey's face. You crossed your arms over your chest. This was an ongoing thing. Joffrey would call Sandor a dog to get a rise out of you.

“His name is Sandor. Have you forgotten?” Joffrey can’t help but smile wickedly at you. It irritated you, Joffrey grew to be more ill and filled with a horrible attitude. He was a spoiled child, that’s all you had to say about your brother. His words and remarks were vile and you wouldn’t stand for it especially when it came to Sandor or to your servants.

“He’s a dog, my dear sister. There’s no changing that. He is The Hound.”

“You’re a dog as well. You even act like one and yet people still call you prince.” You answered back.

“You little-.” Meryn Trant stopped mid sentence when he saw Sandor walking down the steps to get next to you.

“Finish what you were saying. I fucking dare you.” Sandor threatens Meryn Trant and gives him a cold stare down. Sandor’s reputation grew as the years passed. Killer, monster, perhaps even worse than his brother, the names and the fear of fighting against him grew. They all knew no one is safe when he’s protecting you.

“You are so kind to the people below us.” Joffrey said, making your eyes roll. You wished for the day when Joffrey realized that he is a bastard. It was called a rumor but you knew the truth. Cersei has always been a bit sloppy when she was drunk. You had seen your mother and your uncle, Jamie getting cozy.

“I will be so heartbroken when you finally leave King’s Landing and join those filthy people from Drone.” You smile at your brother. Plans have been changed.

“I’m surprised that you know about my marriage proposal with Drone.” You said knowing him and your mother had conspired this marriage proposal.

“Let me be the one to deliver this good news to you, dear brother.” Joffrey frowned as you approached him closer.

“There is no need to be heartbroken, for I am staying. There is no proposal.” Joffrey's blonde brows rose up and his shocked expression turned into an angry one.

“It must be hard not being father’s favorite.” You whispered.

This dispute, the rivalry between you and brother began when he was able to see how Robert favored you more. He reached out for Robert but Robert was busy being King or being drunk. Joffrey was always envious of you, you had your father wrapped around your finger along with the entire realm while you got cheered and praised. He got concerned looks from the people of King's Landing.

“Shall we go, Sandor? Agatha said she was preparing chicken for prandium.” You looked over at Sandor who nodded at you.

“Yes, princess.” Passing by Joffrey, you ignored the look from Mery Trant. Sandor bowed his head to Joffrey and followed you. You can hear Sandor’s heavy footsteps behind you as you continue to hold your front. You wouldn’t let Joffrey know that his little plan to get rid of you didn’t work. Thanks to Lord Baelish and Lord Varys who gave you a heads up about it again, this wasn’t the first time. Joffrey wanted to get rid of you again and now he had even gotten your mother to play along.

Night came and you welcomed the warmth Sandor provided you. Even though the weather of King’s Landing was already warm you still preferred the heat from Sandor’s body.

“I heard something.” Sandor spoke after a moment of silence. You played with the soft hair on his chest while you laid your head on his arm, his arms tightening around you.

“Speak, Sandor.” You softly said, growing anxious every passing second.

“The servants overheard Joffrey asking Cersei about taking me as his own guard.” You raised your head off his arm and looked down at him.

“What?”

“He wants me as his guard.” Sandor answered you. You shook your head.

“That little cunt.” You whispered under your breath and you realized Sandor wasn’t even looking at you. He kept staring up at the ceiling of your chambers. His eyes had become dull and his face was emotionless. Pushing the sheets off your body, you moved to sit in his lap. Paying no attention to the soreness between your legs, you felt him hold on to your legs as you cupped his face with both hands.

“He won’t take you away from me.” Sandor let out a strain chuckle.

He knew what he had with you won’t last. He had made a promise to himself when he first met you. He wouldn't fall in love with you but he broke it. He was utterly in love with you after being your guard for many years. He had convinced himself in the beginning of your relationship that you guys can be together but reality was hitting him straight in the face, you were a princess and he was just a second born son. You would be married to someone else, someone better. You would leave him.

“I swear it.”

“Might be for the best if I do switch. It will be for the best.” Sandor said, making you frown.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to watch you marry some lord or a king and give him kids.” Sandor traced the skin of your legs as he spoke.

“Your father won’t decline the next marriage proposal. He did it for the last two but not the third one. He won’t, I know it. The realm wants to see you married and have children. If I keep guarding you and you get married, I’ll kill your husband.” Sandor said sincerely. You dropped your hands from his face and brought it down to his chest.

“Do you love me?” You asked.

Sandor’s jaw clenched and his eyes grew hard. “Yes or no?”

“You know I do. I have killed for you.” Sandor responded with no remorse. He had spilled blood for you and had lost count on how many people he killed to protect you and your honor.

“If you love me then never say those words again. Promise me?! Promise me that you won’t say that it’s best.”

Sandor said your name softly but you yelled at him. “Swear it to me! Please.”

Sandor nodded, raising his hand up to cup your cheek when he saw you on the verge of tears. He couldn’t bear seeing you cry. You grabbed on to his wrist, kissing his palm.

“I promise. I swear it.” He told you. You leaned down to kiss him. Enjoying the tender moment with him, there were a few times when Sandor showed his soft side with you. It was mostly in bed, both of you would be wrapped around each other and sometimes the aftermath of many orgasms.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He told you and you began to kiss him harder moving your hips, your cunt humping against his cock. Whining loudly when you felt him pull you to his chest and wrap an arm around you. His free hand touches your bare ass. Sandor takes a deep breath as he feels how warm and wet you are.

“I won't let Joffrey take you away from me. I have a plan.”

Sandor’s hand freezes on your ass and looks down at you.

“A plan?” You nodded as you pressed a kiss on his chest.

“Yes. You’re mine, Sandor. No one is going to take you away from me.” Your words were like a shot of adrenaline to him. He gripped your ass harder, he wanted to believe you.

He didn't want to ruin this moment with a fight. He wanted to remember this night with you incase this would be the last night he gets to spent with you. Naked and curled up together. He wanted to enjoy it, so he moved to his side, taking you with him. Facing each other now, Sandor drapes your leg over his waist, your right arm under his head while his arm goes under you. In a thirst position, he can hold you close to him. You bump his nose softly and kiss his scared cheek. He gripped your waist pulling you closer to him.

You shut your eyes and moan when his thick fingers touch your slit. Gather the reminiscence of your cum and his dripping from your hole and rub it on along the swollen lips of your cunt. The tip of his fingers gliding over your clit making you cry out, your cunt was sensitive from earlier. Your toes curled up and legs tensed up when you felt his finger inside of you.

“Fuck.” He groans as he holds you close to him. Moaning his name as you felt him finger you for a moment. He shifted and moved your legs higher so he had room.

“Sandor.” You cry out his name as he slips inside of you. You held on to his arms as he gripped your waist while pumping into you.

His face hidden between your neck and shoulder, you can feel his hand on your back, nails digging into your skin. You held on for dear life as you heard him growl against your skin.

“I’ll kill him, Y/n.” He moans to you as he fucks you, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt. His thrust was growing faster and harsher. The thought of you married with some prince made him angry. Even if people didn't know, you were his and he would keep it that way.

“You hear me?” He said with a moan. He moves his face towards you. You nod at him letting out a pitched whine when he hits that sweet spot.

“You belong with me. You’re mine.” You kissed him trying to mask your moans but nothing in the world would mask the squelching sound of your pussy being fucked.

Sandor held on to you as he moved his hips back and forward. He feels his balls tighten when he feels you cum on him, you’re trembling, skin slick with sweat. Sandor is grunting as he manhandles you. Your hands are on him, touching him, you can feel the muscles and his scars from his battles on his back and his arms.

Sandor cries your name and you shut your eyes as he presses his hips against you, slamming his cock deep inside of you. His hand on your hips goes down your ass, cups your cheek. He squeezes it as he cums deep inside of you. You whimper feeling stuff, your pussy keeps clenching and unclenching around him. He shifts his hips and you moan at the feeling of your clit being ticked by his pubic hair.

You feel his lips on your cheek, pressing soft kisses as he huffs out of breath.

“Sandor.” You whispered as you nuzzled against his face. You didn’t mind the feeling of the scars against your face, you kept close to him enjoying the aftermath of your orgasm.

You didn’t want this to end, you wouldn’t allow it. Sandor was yours first, Sandor belongs to you just as much you belong to him. You weren’t going to give him up without a fight.

Morning came and you were woken by your ladies in waiting. The flock of ladies knocked and waited for you outside to respond. You rose up, finding yourself alone. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and invited them inside. One by one they walked inside, picking up the sheets from the floor, one went to your closet to get your clothes for the day and one opened the doors to the balcony.

“Here, my princess.” The eldest came by you after you covered yourself with your robe. You thanked her for the tea and waited patiently while one warmed your bath water.

One of the ladies was brushing your hair after your bath. They stopped when there was a knock on the door, opening the door. Sandor came walking in, he had a concerning look on his face.

“Good morrow, princess. The king demands your presence in his chambers at once.”

You walked to your father’s chambers with Sandor behind you. He sensed how nervous you were. Before going around the hall, you felt Sandor grab your arm. He gently pulled you back. You were pushed softly against the wall. Sandor stood in front of you, towers over you as he looked down at you.

“Worried?” You whispered to him. You feel one of his hands cup your face.

Sandor doesn’t reply, he simply presses his lips against yours. “Go on.” He tells you and steps away from you.

Sandor has a habit of never expressing his feelings out loud. Sandor followed you quietly. He wasn’t worried at all, he was scared and he hasn’t felt this way since he was a child when Gregor disfigured him.

You walked down the hall and came to a halt when you saw Ser Meryn Trant standing outside of your father’s chamber. It meant that Joffrey was inside. You felt bile rise up. Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath to calm your nervousness.

Meryn Trant saw you and opened your father’s chamber door for you. You looked over your shoulder and gave Sandor a look of nervousness. You took one last look of his brown eyes. It calms you for a moment and you’re able to walk inside your father’s chamber. You noticed Joffrey sitting down along with your mother while your father sat behind his desk. The door shut behind you as you walked towards your father.

“Mother. Brother.” You greeted them and walked next to your father. You leaned down to kiss one of his pudgy cheeks. Robert gave you a smile and greeted you. You can smell the wine coming off your father.

“Sit, we have been waiting. Joffrey and your mother wish to discuss something with us.”

You sat on the empty seat next to your mother. “Joffrey has told me that he would like Sandor as his personal guard.” Your mother said.

So this was about Sandor. “What's wrong with Ser Meryn Trant?” You asked Joffrey.

Joffrey wasn't expecting for you to say something. He thought you would obey instantly. You stare at Joffrey, you weren't going to let Sandor slip away from you. You were going to fight for him.

Joffrey looked over at his father who was also staring at him. “Well, since Y/n is going off in Dorne. I want Sandor.”

“I'm not going to Dorne. I told you.” Joffrey clenched his jaw.

“You had refused your last marriage proposal. Father, are you going to accept this?” Joffrey asked Robert.

“She isn't going to Dorne.” Robert said, making Cersei sit up. “Why not?” She asked him.

“You dare to question me, woman.” Robert eyed Cersei.

“Our daughter has not been wed, people will talk.”

“You think I care what people say about her. She is my daughter. My word is law and final. She won't be shipped to Dorne.”

You dislike how sometimes your father would speak to your mother. Robert was a down right misogynist but when it came to you he was different. You knew it had to do with Lyanna Stark, everyone told you how there was a resemblance between you and her. It was confirmed when Ned Stark and his family came to King's Landing to celebrate your name day. Ned couldn't take his eyes off of you and had even stuttered his sister's name after drinking with your father.

You felt bad for Ned after so many years the death of his sister still had a hold over him just like Robert. He had begged forgiveness to you the next day. “Nonsense. No need to forgive, Lord Stark.”

“He’s a good man.” Sandor told you after Ned left. You had finished a walk with Ned in the garden after you told him if it would be alright to share some stories about Lyanna. He gave you a smile and accepted. You learned a lot about her and intend to use this information.

“He is.” You replied to him.

“It will get him killed one of these days.” Sandor’s words made you sad. You didn't want to see the Lord of Winterfell dead. Unlike Joffrey and your mother, you enjoy their presence and have grown fond of his wife, Catelyn.

“Our daughter should have been married and had babies by now. We can use her as an advantage, a leverage.” Cersei stood up from her seat and walked to the corner of the room where the cart of wines and cups were at.

“I believe it has to be that atrocious dog always behind her. His face scares off any suitors. She will be married soon and doesn’t need him anymore.”

“He protects me, mother.” You said folding your hands on your lap. Cersei looked over her shoulder at you. You looked over at your father because at the end of the day, he has the last day.

“Father, remember the riot. Those men would have killed me. Sandor was there and killed them all. He killed those men.” Robert nodded remembering all too well about that horrible riot that broke out.

You stood up from your seat and walked towards the desk. You kneel down near your father ignoring the tsk sound from Joffrey. You decided if Joffrey and your mother wanted to play dirty. So will you.

“I do not wish the same fate as the lovely Lyanna Stark. May she be at peace.” Your father’s eyes shifted at the mention of Lyanna.

“I know. I have refused two marriage proposals now but I must tell you the truth, Sandor didn’t trust them. He had seen him, heard them speak ill behind my back.” You knew the words you were about to say will be a low blow to your mother and it will create a shift between you two but you had to do it. You didn’t want Joffrey to have Sandor. Sandor Clegane is yours.

“You might think this is ridiculous, father.” You grabbed your father’s hand.

“I want to be loved. The type of love you and Lyanna shared. Ned told me stories about your love with her and it warmed my heart. I crave for that love you both shared.” You flinched at the sound of Cersei throwing her cup of wine to the ground and walked out of the room. No one said anything for a moment. You just watched as the red wine from Drone stained the carpeted rug. This was your chance, your moment to seal it. Joffrey won’t take Sandor away from you.

Sandor stood straight up when he saw the queen running out of the room. The door was opened and he looked ahead. He saw you kneeling by your father, looking up at him.

“Don't take Sandor away from me. Don't let me have the same fate as the woman you loved.”

Robert smiled down at you and cupped your face. “No need to worry. Clegane will stay by your side.”

Robert looks towards Joffrey. “Stay with Ser Mery Trant. If you wish for a more depraved guard. Perhaps we can ask The Mountain to fill in.” Joffrey quickly shook his head. He sent a glare at you before standing up and walking out of the room. Sandor moved away from the door when he saw Joffrey with a pout on his face. Ser Mery Trant followed the prince.

Sandor looked back at the doorway. Robert had helped you get up on your feet and gave you a hug. Sandor gave you a small smile when he saw you staring back at him with your own smile as you hugged your father. It worked.

Sandor knew he would have to beg forgiveness for not believing in you. Your plan worked. Shame on him for ever doubting you, Princess Y/n Baratheon, the realm's delight.

Chapter 2 ->

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane fanfic #games of thrones x reader #games of thrones fanfiction #rorymccann #sandor clegane smut #sandor the hound clegane #prince joffrey #robert baratheon #reader baratheon

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luxbub · 8 months ago

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sandor clegane x stark!reader pt.1

a/n: i actually hate this but i needed an escape from my writing slump, also ignore the fact that i frogot half of my vocabulary ( not proofread )

Sandor clegane whose face was the first one you saw when the king came to winterfall, his face— half covered by a helmet of a hound, with his teeth bared and scrunched up brows—burned from the left side made a grimace come over yours and yet when your eyes met you back shot up straight and a small smile graced your features.

Sandor clegane for who you circled the whole camp for while going to King’s Landing with your father. Even catching the smallest glimpse of his big frame and scowling face gave you enough satisfaction to go on about the day with a smile.

Sandor clegane who of course noticed the stark princess suddenly appearing everywhere he went. Stupid girl and her stupid smile was oblivious of the looks the troops gave her when her skirt swayed so deliciously as she trudged around the camp or when her corset was tightened more than usual and her cleavage looked ready to spill over the neckline of her dress.

Sandor clegane who never smiled before you and your backhanded comments to that cunt of a prince Joffrey appeared( it was never a big broad grin, only the right corner of his mouth lifted up just barely, but enough for you to notice).

Sandor clegane whose favourite place in whole of King’s Landing was a tavern far from the Red Keep, where he could drink his weight and more in wine.

Sandor clegane who you stumbled into one day while rushing through the halls of Red Keep. “My apologies, ser.” Not many women dared too look him in the eye; even the whores he payed, looked at their feet in his presence. Your eyes hypnotised him, the enthracing sound of your voice seemed to freeze him in his place before he answered. “I’m no ser, girl.” He grunted and stomped away, the clanking of his heavy armour being the only sound left echoing in the corridor.

Sandor clegane who had already drank two glasses when you walked through the door with a cloak and hood pulled up as if the filthy scum of flea bottom wouldn’t notice the shiny material of highborn clothes, weaving at your feet.

Sandor clegane who had noticed some of the dwellers visiting the tavern getting a little to close to you, so he stood up—the sound of his chair chirping the wooden floor, catching the attention of nearby drinkers—and marched up to your table, where you were giggling at a man whose hands were wandering too far south for sandor’s comfort. With each of his heavy steps towards you, your giggles seemed to get louder and louder and the man’s greasy hands go lower and lower.

Sandor clegane who stood there for a minute until you and that cunt noticed him. He could feel your stared burning a hole through his head, but dared not to look you in the eye and instead stared the filthy man down. In a matter of seconds he kneeled down and hauled you up on his shoulders, turning towards the exit. “What do you think you’re doing?” Your screeched with your head hanging upside down. From what Sandor remembers from your encounter your voice had not been as high as it was now, your head must have become pumped up with blood for the little time sandor has been having you hang over his shoulders. “What does it look like?” If you asked Sandor he wouldn’t be able to tell you why he did it, why his ears turned red the moment he noticed that you had found company, the moment the scum’s hands started wandering all over your body.

Sandor clegane who seemed to have painted a target on his back now with your little encounter in the tavern, from smiles he was now met with scowls and narrowed eyes. It all kept on going until your father was attacked in Flea Bottom, now it was you whose every move was watched and critiqued, it was you who had to be humiliated from the cunt Joffrey who became a King, it was you who had to see your father's head chopped off.

Sandor clegane who happened to be the only one you found comfort in, after he held you back from meeting the same fate as your father.

Sandor clegane who came to you first when he planned to run away from King’s Landing and it’s stupid King.

Sandor clegane who would not allow you to stay in the castle, so when you said that you couldn’t leave your sister alone, he proposed to take her with you. But when she declined, his knees felt ready to buckle. All this stress and all this torture, would be all for nothing if he couldn’t get you at least out of this hell. Your sister seemed to have noticed him and the absent distance between you two, and started begging you to leave, go without her, tell Robb about her, tell mother about her, but save yourself.

#sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane fanfic #sandor clegane x y/n #got x reader #got x y/n #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x y/n #sandor clegane drabble #sandor clegane x you #game of thrones x you #🫧bubbles writes

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starsofjewels · 2 months ago

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hi i love your gregor fic!!! i have a request if that’s cool, so ya know how rhaenyra and daemon snuck out and went to flea bottom and to the brothel in hotd, welll i was thinking princess!reader and gregor her guard they sneak off and go into a brothel and ykyk!! then like the next day, someone goes to the queen and small council to tell them the rumors and sandor is just like in the corner 🤨🫢🫨

Tarnishment

Gregor Clegane x Baratheon Princess! Reader

NSFW!!

Any and all characters depicted in NSFW pieces are of legal age.All characters are also consenting (Unless specificed by piece)

CONTENT: SMUT- Nudity, fingering, climbing the Mountain (obviously), assumed! Murder, canon compliant! Sex work (prostitutes, brothels etc), mentions of alcohol (mostly wine), implied! Infidelity (Baratheon Princess does it Nyra style)

Delicious smut underneath the cut

Greggie C, Big Bob and the Lannisters are all their own individual warnings.

Word Count: 3.6K

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Holy frickle frackle mackrel I genuinely loved writing this so much- WHY do you all how so many good ideas OH MY LORD.

Thank you so much for this, we are all sluts for Greggie now. Gods be good.

I'm trying to get through my requests, but soon we'll have lil sprinklings of things- I've got another Ramsay and a very special surprise fic (hold your excitement) lined up for y'all once I'm done my requests.

Live, Laugh, Gregor Clegane.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Tarish (verb): To compromise, damage, soil or sully.

When your mother bears you a little brother, at the grand age of seven, you are old enough to understand that your importance has dropped significantly. You were never going to be heir to the throne, not whilst your father has two living brothers, but there is still a general sense that you are no longer as necessary to the Baratheon lineage, not now little baby Joffrey has a golden cradle, with yellow hair to match.

Your father doesn’t care much for Joffrey, or Tommen, or Myrcella. You don’t think he cares for much besides wine and whores and hunting down animals in the Godswood. He calls your siblings the ‘Lion Pups’, a secret joke between the two of you. They could pass as pure Lannisters, with their slim figures and golden hair, but you? You are your father’s Baratheon princess, and you are his most favourite.

After your first blood, and, coincidentally enough, Joffrey’s fourth nameday, your father decides you should each have a member of the Kingsguard to take care of you. The crown prince is now too old to need a nurse, and you are a fertile little lady- The phrasing makes you cringe- You need protection from debauchery, as your mother says. You wonder if the world is truly so terrible that a man could desire you.

Cersei wants to give you the Hound, but you are far too good for Sandor Clegane, the Burned Knight. So you get his brother, the Mountain, and already you know why the men shiver when they see him, and why women hide their babies. Joffrey is given over to Sandor, to your mother’s dismay.

And so, it begins. You attend your lessons on the back of a Mountain, you watch him fight and train as you sew, and when you go into town you are permitted to stray into the markets and shops, with your personal guard barely a foot behind. You remind yourself you have more freedoms than any princess when you receive another scolding from your mother, when you long to attend the hunts.

You are an affectionate person, Cersei knows that, but even she grows suspicious at how close Gregor has gotten to you. He carries you places as though you are his bride, as though you could not walk without him, and whispers begin of your behaviour in private being far less innocent. But, there is no evidence.

Summer is a privilege and a pain all at the same time. The palace is hot, and sticky, as are you. Even with the soft breezes of night, the warmth hides not so far away. If anyone were to see you, they’d find you most indecent. Your nightdress is short, and covers just enough of your cleavage that your nipples are not exposed. If you jumped, or did anything other than walk a few slow paces, you aren’t sure they wouldn’t be.

“Alright, Princess?”

You hadn’t realised Gregor was standing there. You are too hot and too bored to do anything more than feel a bit sorry for yourself. He knows that.

The response you give is somewhere between a groan and a grunt, it makes him laugh. You like to make him laugh, it reminds you he isn’t just the big, scary Mountain you see in his armour. Which you suddenly realise he isn’t wearing.

Your Mountain is dressed in a tunic, a red one- Lannister, obviously- And you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen him without his armour. But then, you suppose he isn’t off duty very much, his duties are very much full-time.

“Mh- What are you wearing?”

Gregor moves closer, throwing something light upon your bed,

“Goin’ out. Get dressed.”

He pulls you out of bed, an action which reminds you of your nurses doing the same. The man pulls your nightdress up for you, pulling a simple dress more suited for one of the staff over you, and a cloak on the top.

“Thank Dana downstairs, she’s letting you borrow it.”

“Did you steal a dress?”

You are granted a shrug in response, you assume that means a yes.

Though Gregor is not easily disguised, there are plenty of ladies in the Keep with your hair colour and figure. You could just as easily be a whore as you are a princess, and that delights you.

The courtyard is dark and empty, no-one wants to venture out this late, not anyone who cares about their reputation, at least. The Street of Silk, and her sister streets, will all be bustling with off-duty guards, and whoever else feels the need for company. The guards stationed at the gates assume the same of Gregor when he passes, you think.

“Who’s watching the princess?”

Your heart jumps, you cling onto him almost suspiciously tightly, and you know that they notice.

“Do you think I care about the fucking duty board? Check yourself if you’re that bothered.”

The other scoffs at that, and you feel him jab your shoulder,

“Something wrong with your whore?”

“Don’t know, just taking her back.”

Gregor lifts you up, you hide your face in his shoulder. The guards let you pass, and once you are reasonably away from the Keep, he puts you back down.

“Arseholes.” The man looks back, keeping you close, “let’s have some fun, eh? I know the place.”

King's Landing is a seedy place, you know that even in the day, but at night, it ignites. The streets are filled with lust and shamelessness, you wonder if your septa might die at the sight of it. Whores line the streets, and you can tell which are the newer, poorer ones, and which of the women come from ‘respectable’ houses. He leads you through the Street of Silk, you know it even without any markers, from the drunk men lying against the walls, or on the ground, and you are frightened.

You see no silk, you see blood and piss and far too much of other women, but that is all.

The place he leads you to is clean, at least, and reasonably unassuming. There are candles and flowers outside, you wonder if this brothel is one of the higher-end ones, or if inside it is double as bad as the streets.

You are sat neatly on a cushioned bench, and ladies bring you drink. Wines, and ales and other alcohols you have neither heard about nor tasted. You see them giggle to themselves, and you realise that your disguise is poor. They all know the Baratheon princess has graced their presence. It will have some impact on you later, the thought crosses your mind as Gregor tilts your third cup of wine down your throat, when one of them is offered a pretty gold coin in exchange for all of your secrets.

But, you do not care. You are allowed to have fun, even if your idea of fun stems past the gossiping, and the sewing your mother would like you to do.

“Gods-”

You are drawn from your thoughts by Gregor, who sets another cup down on the table,

“You Baratheons really can drink, Princess, that’s your fifth tonight.”

Sure enough, the cup in your hand has four identical siblings, strewn about in various positions across the table, and one on the floor. The man shakes his head.

“Well, how many have you had?”

“Don’t take wine. Woman’s drink.”

When the music begins, you aren’t truly sure if it’s real, or if your alcohol-addled mind has simply hallucinated it to entertain you; but Gregor shuffles his huge form over, and puts an arm around your waist, glancing occasionally to the platform in front of you, so you assume it to be real.

The women who wear any clothes wear barely any at all. They dance with feathers, and pretty shiny things- Baubles and bells, which jingle with every step they take. Some have silver hair, Targaryen hair, and you are reminded that even though their fiery blood has faded out, given your father’s proclivity for murdering them, some men still want to tame the dragon. They wink, and they gasp, and they moan, as though their dancing is the most exciting thing they could have ever done. Some of the men- For it is all men- Jeer, they call them whores, and other words you can’t imagine anyone else repeating. It makes Gregor laugh, and for once you aren’t so sure if you like that. He notices, pressing a comforting kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll go to our room in a bit, yeah? You’ll like that.”

Not entirely sure what he means, you nod anyway.

The dancers end in a puff of smoke and incense, you pretend not to notice as they slip away, with one, or two, or even three men chasing after them. You wonder if three men could even fit inside the one woman, and your mind brings you to unsavoury places.

You don’t feel particularly drunk, the wine must have been watered down, but still, Gregor lifts you up to take you further into the brothel. The noises are no less than sinful- Groans, and cries and the screams of men as they finish themselves off. You hear names, whispered into the night, and the whores run to and from their entertainment rooms, in various states of blush and undress. Most are nude.

The room you are brought to is right at the top of the brothel, where the Madame keeps her office, and her favourite pets. It is clean, and scented by the flowers about the place. The bed itself, for there is always a bed, is covered in soft pink curtains, pulled back and tied with silver ribbon. There are no windows, and no fireplace.

“Only the best for the princess, eh? You’re lucky I did the Madame a favour.”

He has already pulled off his tunic, and sits upon the bed, pulling you onto him so your legs wrap around his waist,

“What did you do?”

“Killed her husband.”

You look up at him, pouting slightly.

“Why?”

“Because-” In an instant, his great body is atop of you, and you are slammed against the fabric of the bed. The thing itself creaks. “Your grandfather told me to.”

Gregor’s lips find your neck, his facial hair tickles against the skin, and you let yourself laugh,

“And you do everything the great Lord Tywin tells you to?”

The response you get is a grunt, and a squeal from your own lips when he pulls you closer toward him. You gain a kiss upon the lips for this intrusion.

“I do whilst I’ve his pretty granddaughter in a whorehouse.”

As he continues to put kisses on your exposed skin, travelling almost as low as your breast, you suddenly realise you’ve found yourself in an unusual position of power. In a whorehouse, on your back, with a man double your weight and at least a foot taller than you upon you. This is the power your mother has told you a woman holds.

“His pretty granddaughter, your princess. You should be serving me.”

You tilt your head away so he cannot see the smile which graces your face. He merely hums, near thoughtfully. Once again, you are lifted from below him, and put back on the throne you’ve made from his thighs.

“How does my princess want served, then?”

His free hand finds yours, and you play with it like a child might a shiny thing they find upon the pavement.

“Your fingers.”

“Aye, that’s a good plan,” He shakes his hand free from yours with little effort, it joins with the other at the small of your back, and poor Dana’s dress is torn to rags, leaving you in your little nightdress, the front having been pulled down completely, exposing your breasts to him. He says nothing. “Better get you prepared first, can’t bring you back split like a chicken, can I?”

“Are you… that big?”

Your eyes widen at your own speech, how utterly unashamed you can be. There is little more you can do to sully your reputation at this point than to actually have the man inside of you, and you aren’t completely sure you won’t. But he finds some amusement in your words, grasping you gently, pulling you closer toward him.

“All of me is big, Princess.”

He is right, his hands are each the size of your face, if not bigger. His height is something known and feared by every man, woman and child in the Seven Kingdoms, and you sit delicately on his lap, growing increasingly excited by the ideas of what he might do to you.

One of those big hands grazes your bare arse underneath your nightdress, even the gentlest squeeze, with his strength, turns into a reasonably harsh pinch. You squeak,

“Ow!”

Gregor tuts,

“If that hurts you, Princess, I doubt you’re ready for the next bit.”

It travels back down, across your thigh, and sets itself, with the amount of grace you expect from Gregor, just shy of your cunt. He helps you settle in a more comfortable position, and pushes his middle finger into you. It hurts, even his fingers are enormous, far greater than your own, but it feels wonderful. You must be whimpering, because he shushes you with kisses, moving slowly and carefully, not daring to give you another one.

A second has you sobbing, quietly begging for him to stop. He won’t, you know that, and most of you doesn’t want him to.

By the time he considers you ‘adequately prepared’, you are hardly sure of your own name, let alone anything more complicated. You are covered in sweat, a scarlet blush across your whole face, and an overwhelming sense that you should probably be quite ashamed of yourself.

Gregor sets you down from his lap, onto the bed. You hope the night’s activities aren’t over, you do so want what you were certain he’d give you. He seems to notice, a smile graces his face.

“Just a minute, Princess,” He sounds almost scolding, like a schoolmaster, “Can’t fuck you dressed, can I?”

“I… Suppose not, no.”

Whilst you still have some shred of dignity, even if your nightdress clings to the sweat on your skin, and leaves next to nothing to anyone’s imagination, Gregor strips himself down to his entirety. Every scar, every muscle of his is completely visible, and something about it completely delights you.

He almost laughs at how you gawk at him, eyes flicking between his legs, trying desperately not to show him you are, in fact, staring.

“Never seen a cock before?”

“Not… One I’m not directly related to, no.”

You are scooped back into his arms, onto your throne of flesh. Your Mountain bounces you just slightly, and you recall a nurse of yours doing the exact same thing at some point in your life. There is something oddly comforting about it.

He expects you to squeal and cry when it begins, when he pushes himself into you. And you do, just a little. There is a pressure you cannot quite explain, something eats at you from inside out, and your eyes fill up with pretty tears. He is there to make it better, of course, it is his duty to protect you.

Gregor is not the type of man to praise his woman, and he doesn’t. Not in words, at least. You cling to him, wrapped around his neck and whimpering into his shoulder, and he runs a hand up your clothed back in long, soothing motions. It does little to actually comfort you, but the thought behind it is nice. You are glad it’s this, and not the horror stories you’ve heard about your sworn guardian.

You know, in very limited detail, how a woman is supposed to give herself up to a man. You had thought it would hurt- That he would be rough, and you look down to see no blood, nor much of anything, his cock is hidden by the skirts of your nightdress. You wonder if that is enough to hide your sin from the gods.

“Alright, Princess?”

You cannot even look up to see his face, and you don’t know he’d want you to. Tears stream freely from your eyes, and all of you feels heavy, tired. You hope he’ll carry you back home.

“Nearly.”

The break in his voice does not escape you. At least you know what’s to happen.

And slowly, carefully, his hand on your back finds your thigh, and the one on your thigh crawls between your legs. You are already prepared, already overwhelmed, and just the slightest touch is enough to set you off again,

“Hold off, Princess,” Had you the strength, you would beg him not to stop. Thankfully, he doesn’t, “Just one minute.”

And you try, but it is just too much for you to handle. You attempt to tell him, to give him some warning, but he knows.

He comes with a great roar, something that makes you jump. Gregor holds you tight enough to bruise, a reminder of his power, of how vulnerable you actually are, but you hardly care.

Despite the very obvious plug between your legs, his seed still seeps out of you, onto your nice nightdress, onto him. You hadn’t thought it’d be so messy, but it does make some sense. You mutter something unintelligible, and he kisses your forehead. The world is good, and you wonder if anyone would find out should you make this a regular occurrence.

You awake the next morning in a different, more sensible nightdress. You smell clean, like lavender soap, like he’s had one of your ladies bathe you at some point. One enters with a breakfast tray, as per usual, and you pretend not to notice how she avoids your gaze. The two who help you dress are as chatty as usual. The older woman is as bubbly as ever, and her little assistant couldn’t frighten a sparrow if she wanted.

Gregor is usually standing outside when you emerge in the mornings. Today, it is Ser Meryn Trant. Not unusual, and nothing for concern; you assume Gregor has come down with a headache again. He suffers from them quite frequently, especially so in the hottest months.

Neither of you say anything, not until you’ve crawled down the steps and gotten to the throne room. Your muscles still ache, and your legs feel strange to walk upon, a night of being bent and thrown in any direction.

Tywin and Cersei are on either side of the throne; your mother sits, your grandfather stands. Your brother is tactfully in the corner, with his dog behind him. And the way Sandor looks at you, with undisguised disgust, you realise- they know.

Tywin’s face is still, your mother looks as though she might boil up at any given moment. The throne is empty, and you wonder where your father has gone.

“Princess,” It is Varys who speaks. Your mother’s little songbird, with nothing better to do than scour the kingdom for rumour, “We had heard some… rumours regarding your activities last night with Ser Gregor.”

You realise, this is your time to shine. You have always been dramatic, always good at making up little stories. You can fool your grandfather, you’ve always been able to. And if Lord Tywin is convinced, the rest of them shall follow; no-one doubts the Hand.

“W-What rumours, my lord?”

Cersei rolls her eyes. Your mother stands, moving down from the raised steps of the throne, facing you,

“You know what rumours. You were seen in a brothel last night, far past the time you should have been abed, and he carried you back half-naked. Do you deny it, Daughter?”

“I…”

You look between those in the throne room: your brother in the corner, his dog avoiding your gaze; Varys, and Littlefinger, your mother. Your gaze lands on Ser Meryn.

“Ser Gregor does not guard me at night.” You look at your grandfather, a sudden realisation coming upon you. “He is my personal guard, Grandfather, the Kingsguard have night duty. He needs to be rested for the day.”

Cersei flicks her head to Tywin, who appears to be thinking quite deeply,

“That is true, Ser Gregor has yet to be granted the white cloak.”

“Do you doubt my virtue, Grandfather? You know I would not lie on such matters, I am a princess, not a tavern wench.”

And he sighs, and you know that you’ve won him over,

“It is possible Ser Gregor entertained a woman of a- Similar appearance. The princess is not so foolish as to risk rumours of her purity, unlike some.”

A comment about your mother. You see Sandor smirk at it.

You are returned back to your bedchamber, and go about your day. The rumours are put aside, and it is decided that Gregor entertained a whore that night, no matter what anyone claims. There are plenty of men who take silver-haired whores as Targaryens, after all, there is hardly a difference with the new line of regency.

Later, you are put in front of your father after supper. He’s heard, of course, through Varys, or Tywin or Cersei, or all of the above. Not that it matters.

Robert is arse-deep in his cups, and he doesn’t show any sign of stopping. Your father wraps one of his great hands around your shoulders,

“Did you fuck him, then?”

And there is no answer you can give him but the truth.

“Aye, Father, I did.”

Robert spends the rest of the evening laughing uncontrollably, getting suitably drunk. Your nights with Gregor confine themselves to your rooms, or to a variety of places where a princess would not be so out of place. Everyone knows, and no one says a word. And one day, when your husband of a cushy, lordly house gives you child after child, no one shall say a word when they each emerge taller than the next, when their resemblance is shockingly similar to your personal guard, and not their supposed father.

#game of thrones x reader #got x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x y/n #got #house clegane #clegane #gregor clegane x reader #gregor clegane #game of thrones x reader smut #got smut #request #requested #I think I might just be a Greggie C writer now #And yk what?#If this is how the gods gave me my talent I'll take it #live laugh greggie c

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 9 months ago

Text

Game of Thrones Fic List

🖤= tw:dark content

🍑= smut

📚= series/multi-part

💌= requested

For Whom the Bell Tolls (Margaery Tyrell x Baratheon!Reader)

A glance and a sassy comment. The more time you two spent alone together, the less of a sister you became to one another. It wasn’t your intention to fall in love with the wife of your brother. You had never really felt bad about it when Maragery was married to Joffrey, but now that she was wed to your sweet Tommen. . . You couldn’t do that to your sweet lion.

Between Saints and Sinners (Sandor Clegane x Reader)

It had been years since you last saw Sandor Clegane. Years since you had last been in employment at Lord Baelish’s brothel.

A Stark Bride (Aegon Targaryen i x Stark!Reader)

Aegon Targaryen reduced your father, Torrhen Stark, to a mere lord. The Targaryen conqueror had taken the title of king for himself. You wanted to depise them, those beautiful Targaryens with their lavender eyes and silver tresses. But they were beautiful. Terrifying and beautiful just like their dragons.

Promises (Oberyn Martell x Reader) 🖤

Having witnessed the brutal murder of your family, your uncle Oberyn is the only one to fend off your nightmares and the only one you could ever feel an attachment to.

Shedding Skin (Arthur Dayne x Targaryen!Reader)

You wouldn't let your brother Rhaegar humiliate you. No. Faking your own death, you travel to Dorne and there shed your dragon skin to become a new person. A happier person.

A Touch of Gold (Margaery Tyrell x Stark!Reader)

If Renly was to have a lover, then Margaery wanted one as well. And she decided that it just had to be the visiting (y/n) Stark.

Gold and Red (Jaime Lannister x Reader) 🍑

How could you bring yourself to have sex with your child husband? Jaime, however, was a full grown man.

Stupid, Pretty Little Things 🖤

She was the only gift Joffrey wanted for his name day. And Joffrey would be damned if anyone forbade him to what was his.

Targaryen Daughters

After so long staying safely hidden in the privacy of a Sept, you discover your younger sister Daenerys is very well alive. Alive and with three dragons.

A Good, Mean Dog (Sandor Clegane x Baratheon!Reader) 📚

The Princess and the Hound. What a story that would be

Horns That Hold A Crown (Rhaegar Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader)

The only daughter of Steffon Baratheon, and to Aerys you were th eonly suitable bride for his son Rhaegar. Your previokus engagement to Ned Stark was broken. Now you found yourself the bride of a dragon instead that of a wolf.

Ruined Hallelujah (Margaery Tyrell x Baratheon!Reader)

You had expected such a move from Robert, maybe even Stannis, but never from your brother Renly. He was well aware of your affair with Margaery, even supported it. Yet he had married you off to Robb Stark, King in the North.

Misfit (Daenerys Targaryen x Greyjoy!Reader) 🖤

Nightmares, your nightmares were filled with the blazing symbol of a kraken. As you travel with your siblings to Meereen you hope Queen Daenerys would be willing to help you in defeating Euron.

One True Queen (Rhaegar Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader)📚

What he had done was the greatest insult to you. One that you thought he would never do. You knew he loved you with all his heart, that was certain. You were his sister and his wife. However, that all changed when he took Lyanna Stark as his second wife.

Knight in Blue and Red (Rhaegar Targaryen x Tully!Reader)

You wanted to be in charge of Riverrun when your father died, but because you were the third and youngest daughter of Hoster Tully that was highly impossible. You would show him. Show him that you would be a better successor than your brother Edmure.

Belladonna (Young Robert Baratheon x Reader)

With the death of his father, Robert Baratheon found himself the young lord of Storm's End. A new lordship requires a wife.

Dragon (Daenerys Targaryen x Reader)📚

She had trusted her Unsullied with her life. That was why when one attacked her with a knife she doesn't have him killed. Instead Daenerys wants to get down to the problem. Only when she removes the Unsullied's helmet she is met with the face of a young girl.

A Lion’s Vow (Jaime Lannister x Stark!Reader)💌

This game the both of you played was your only real entertainment in the mess that was the Red Keep. Knowing it’s true nature, your father attempted to keep you close to his side. Reminding you not to trust anyone easily, especially those that belonged to the House of the Lion.

A Mouse in a Lion’s Den (Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader)📚

A little mouse surrounded by ferocious lions? It didn't look to be a good situation, even if those lions happened to be your family.

Exiled (Arthur Dayne x Reader)💌

You run into Ser Arthur Dayne in Essos. Along with a dark haired, gray eyed child.

Glow (Daenerys Targaryen x Reader)

Why she had taken a liking to you among all the others she had freed, you would never know. You had been a personal whore for one of the masters and had gotten pregnant. There were many others like you. Your story was nothing special, but Dany had found you worthy enough to be her close companion. There were even times when you thought that maybe you could be more than her companion.

The Doe That Chases the Hound (Sandor Clegane x Baratheon!Reader)

Normally in a hunt it was a hound’s duty to chase down deer. You went against the natural order of things. This time it was the doe who sought after the hound.

Crimson Lady (Ramsay Bolton x Bolton!Reader, Sansa Stark x Bolton!Reader) 🖤

Sansa should have known better. Of course she'd be every part of a Bolton as her brother Ramsay was.

Loveless (Rhaegar Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader) 🖤💌

There was nothing Rhaegar could do about your sudden engagement. Try as he might, he couldn’t persuade Aerys to marry you to him. It didn’t matter that he proclaim his undying love for you. Didn’t matter how you got on your knees in front of the iron throne and begged him to reconsider. Instead of mercy, the Mad King simply laughed at you.

Just For You (Ramsay Bolton x Reader) 🍑💌

The cruel Ramsay Bolton has an unknown side to him. Not just for anyone though. Only for the maid whom he loves to taunt.

From the Ashes (Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader)📚

A year has passed since (y/n) and her brother Jaime fled from King's Landing to the vast and foreign world of Essos.

Mine First, Mine Last, Mine Even in the Grave (Ramsay Bolton x Reader) 🍑

Even at such a young age, Ramsay was proving a difficult and willful child. He was somewhat twisted in nature that sometimes disturbed his mother. However once he laid eyes on the little baby, he immediately grew attached to her.

Birth of Dragons (Aegon i Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader) 📚

It wasn’t fair of him to choose a favorite between his sisters. Fearless Visenya, playful Rhaenys and loving (y/n). Above them all he secretly placed (y/n) close to his heart.

The Most Impossible Battle (Robert Baratheon x Targaryen!Reader) 🍑

Robert hated all Targaryens. Wise words from those close to him though make Robert Baratheon give in to the idea of taking (y/n) Targaryen as his bride.

Wrap Around (Oberyn Martell x Martell!Reader) 📚🖤

Oberyn was beside himself at the return of his baby sister (y/n). For a year she had been off in Essos, experiencing the rest of the world outside of the safety of Sunspear. Now she was returning to Dorne. Returning to Oberyn.

By Any Other Name (Margaery Tyrell x Reader)

Another Life (Rhaegar Targaryen x Stark!Reader)

Lyanna watches Jon from atop of the courtyard's parapet, her eyes crinkling with pride as she watches Jon best Theon Greyjoy at the dance of swords. Every victory Jon made resulted in him outgrowing the label of bastard. He was so much more than a bastard of Winterfell. Not even Catelyn saw him as such. Many were so shocked when the news came that Ned had brought back his bastard one day. In fact Cat had shown up at Winterfell by his side as he held the infant in his arms, for she was one of three that knew the truth about Jon Snow.

What We Sow (Theon Greyjoy x Greyjoy!Reader) 🍑🖤💌

This was his home, a place where the salt of the sea and the cries of seagulls were a constant presence and where you were. Waiting so patiently as always. His queen, his sister, his wife. He'd been dreaming of the moment when he'd be reunited with you after so long.

Omission (Theon Greyjoy x Stark!Reader)💌🍑

Robb wasn't being dramatic when he claimed your change toward Theon. From innocent children to teenagers, everything happened so fast that you weren't really able to comprehend what was going on with your own head. When Theon first arrived to your family, you were a small child. You and Robb grew attached to him immediately. For so long you saw him as a brother. Then it just stopped the moment you bled.

Hummingbird (Petyr Baelish x Baratheon!Reader) 💌

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atomic--peach · 1 year ago

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Her Grace's Handmaid Pt.7

(Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader x Sandor Clegane Smut: Praise Kink, Oral {m receiving}, Breeding Kink, Fluff. )

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

The Wedding itself was rushed.

They received Lord and Lady Stark's blessing to use the Winterfell sept to perform the ceremony, and Septon Chayle was more than willing to help once he was convinced neither you nor Sandor were being forced against your will.

Which wasn't technically true, but honestly it just seemed easier to go with it than fight against it. If it had to be anyone, you thought as you entered the great sept decorated with carved masks of The Seven, at least it was him.

Sandor's house was too new to have a cloak to slip over your back, and even if they had it would have been in the Westerlands. Instead they used his regular riding cloak, which was warm and woolen.

The king presided over the ceremony, along with Cersei who looked as if someone was sticking a knife between her ribs to keep her there. Prince Joffery had insisted upon coming out of morbid curiosity. Perhaps he thought they would drag you into the sept kicking and screaming. Princess Marcella tailed her older brother, convinced the wedding would be a romantic affair.

"One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever"

The kiss was a surprisingly soft one, his whiskers prickled your cheeks, but his lips found your almost out of instinct. They were warm and insistent. When he pulled away, you wished he hadn't.

"Congratulations, you two" Chayle nodded, gathering his official looking robes around him. "I wish you both a long and happy life together."

"Thank you, Septon." You nodded politely. Sandor didn't even acknowledge him as he left, looking to the royals with hard eyes that begged the question of "now what?"

"Well now" Robert grumbled, "That's that settled then. Right?"

"Yes, Your grace." You curtseyed meekly, tucking your small hand it to Sandor's gloved one.

"We should give you a minute." Cersei breathed, "Come darlings, the Starks are feasting us tonight we should get ready."

The matriarch led the royal family out of the sept, the door closing with an echoing clang.

"Are you okay?" You whispered, squeezing his hand slightly. "You haven't said anything."

"Fine" He nodded, "You?"

"Good." You confirmed. "You don't think they expect us to..." You led off into the open air.

Sandor grunted, "No one's going to force you to fuck me, if that's what your worried about."

"Hey" you snapped at him, pulling his arm with surprising strength so he was facing you. "First of all, No one could force me to do anything I don't want to do if they tried. Secondly, it's less the act of fucking you I'm worried about and more the complete lack of privacy."

"Oh" Sandor's brow arched, "Now she's worried about privacy. If you had thought of that before, we wouldn't be here."

You knew he was just teasing you from his tone, and you bumped him with your hip slightly. "Fuck you."

The sept door opened slightly, drawing you attention as the queen slipped through the crack.

"Your Grace" you breathed, "Are you-"

"I'm fine." She nodded, "Robert is satisfied. it seems we are off the hook for now."

She eyed the two of you together with a strange glow behind her eyes.

"Have you two...?" she tried to find the words, "I have arranged for a room below to be made up for you. I know it's not much of a wedding, but for the marriage to be legal you will have to-"

"We figured." Sandor grunted, seeming almost embarrassed.

"Sweetling," Cersei eyed you, "would you give me a minute with your husband? Alone?"

"Oh" You blinked, "I- Of course Your Grace. I'll be outside."

The pair of them watched you go before Cersei turned to The Hound with a cold look. She wanted to blame him, yet couldn't.

She wanted to punish him for getting close to you, even if it wasn't his fault.

But it would do her no good to make an enemy of him.

"Clegane, I want you to know how grateful I am for your cooperation in this."

Sandor didn't respond, not bothering to point out he didn't really have a choice in it.

"However, if the rush of things I know some details have been overlooked." Cersei continued, "How well do you know your new wife?"

"Well enough." Sandor shrugged.

"She's special, you know" Cersei impressed upon him. "As loyal as any pet and as sweet as can be. And so trusting."

Sandor's attention was on her, but Cersei couldn't tell if her words were making any impact, which was frustrating.

"If you plan to rape her tonight, I will make sure you never leave this wretched castle alive."

Sandor swallowed at this, caught fully off guard but trying hard not to show it.

"I hadn't made any such plans, Your Grace" He said stiffly, "but the night is still young."

Cersei's face twisted in rage at his implication, wanting nothing more than to have his ugly head mounted on the castle gates.

------

The room was tucked away in the lower levels of Winterfell. You had expected it to be cold, but instead it was pleasantly warm compared to the temperatures above ground.

The chamber itself was mostly empty. These rooms hadn't been used in years; the steward had assured you as you were led down the stairs by torchlight. Sandor had to duck to enter the doorway, finding you sitting on the large bed waiting for him.

"You'd think they'd have let you finish early, all things considered" You joked, moving to help him settle in. You had been sent down earlier, but mostly because queen had not yet figured out what to do with you.

You carefully helped him remove his plate armor bit by bit, until he sighed from the weight being lifted off of him.

He hadn't spoken much; he never spoke much. But particularly now it was worrying, mostly because all you wanted was to talk your nervousness away.

"Sandor?" Your hand moved from his arm to his face, "Please, talk to me. Say something, anything, if only to make me less nervous about all of this."

Sandor sighed, "Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

"Well." You began, "Do you want to do this tonight?"

He stopped at the question and looked at you.

"Because it's okay if you don't." You assured him, "We've been around each other for over a month and you've never tried to...Well I just thought it you wanted to, you'd have tried by now."

He considered this a moment, sitting on a spare chair to get more on your level with his legs spread out lazily. You moved closer to him as his large hands guided you between them.

"You think I haven't thought about it?" He confessed, "You think all those days you spent following me around, those nights you spent sleeping in the stables I didn't imagine dragging your foolish ass into my tent and fucking that kicked puppy look off your face?"

You flushed at this, leaning against his thigh hesitantly as if to ask permission before his hands gripped your waist and pulled you up to straddle his lap. Your toes barely scrapped the floor on either side of him.

"When you let the queen fuck you so the whole camp could hear, do you really think I was the only one who wasn't imagining making you moan like that?" He leaned forward, face less than an inch from yours. "You think when that fat fuck of a king said told us we'd be getting married, a part of me didn't say 'Fucking Finally'?"

Brushing your nose against his cheek, you felt your body begin to quiver on his lap.

"Sandor" You breathed against his ear, "Gods, hold me."

He obeyed, wrapping his arms around you to press your body to his tightly. You breathed in his scent of leather and smoke, hands crawling up and down his back and shoulders to memorize every ridge and groove of his muscled body.

Slowly, you began rocking your hips against his. Grind yourself against him until you felt a hardness so long it almost frightened you grow under the fabric of his trousers.

He was so warm; his body was like a furnace. Radiating heat that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket as his hands stationed themselves on the swell of your hips and guided your movements.

"Sweetling" His voice was a growl, so different from the way Cersei's sweet voice taunted you. This was a rumble, deep and heavy, "Fuck, keep doing that, and we won't even make it to the bed."

You whined but stopped obediently, allowing his hands to peel you off his lap and standing you on your own two feet.

"Good Girl." He smirked, eyes scanning you like a search light. "You have two choices, either you strip for me yourself, or I tear those clothes off of you. Your choice."

Gods did you want the second one, but you only had three dresses to your name so instead you began to strip at an achingly slow pace, tightening the spring both in both your bodies and knowing it would make it feel that much better when it snapped.

"That's it, nice and slow" Sandor's hand slowly cupped his hardening cock through his pants as he took in the sight of your body, the other hand working to take off his belt and loosen his strings. "Now, come here."

You obeyed, instinctively getting on your knees as you settled between his thighs. You purred hungrily, rubbing your face along the inside of his thigh and nestling your mouth over the imprint of his cock but waiting patiently for him to give permission to fully take him.

A growl formed in his throat like rolling thunder, his hand finding your hair and struggling not to press you down harder.

"Please," You whimpered, trying to seem as appealing as possible.

Sandor chuckled darkly at that. "Please what?"

"Please let me take your cock out." You persisted, "We've waited long enough for each other. Please don't tease me, Sandor."

The sound of your voice whining out his name, begging for him, made the Hound harder than he's ever been.

"Whatever you want."

That was all the permission you needed, quickly clawing past his small clothes and slipping the large, warm head of his cock down your throat.

You reveled at that sounds you managed to coax out of him, having caught him off guard and unprepared for how eager you'd become. His grip on your hair had become painful, so you gently urged it down to the back of your neck, allowing him to scruff you like one does a pup and guide your head up and down.

"Gods" He choked out as you took his deeper.

You knew he was too long for you to take fully, and so pumped the remainder of his length with your hand, allowing your other hand to wander between your legs.

The way your moans vibrated around him almost sent the hound over the edge, knuckled white from gripping the arm of the chair her found himself unexpectedly trapped in.

"Fuck, Fuck!" Sandor didn't usually finish quickly, but the look in your eyes as you swallowed his load told him that had been exactly what you wanted.

Breathing heavily, he tried to catch his breath as you climbed back onto his lap, cunt down drenched and dripping from touching yourself for him.

"Darling" You cooed into his ears, "I haven't worn you out too quickly, have I?"

"Fuck that." Sandor growled, grip tightening around you. "You're not getting off that easily, you evil little minx."

"Good" You grinned, kissing a line up his neck along the scared half of his face, "Because I'm not stopping until we're both half dead and sure you've fucked an heir into me."

Sandor rumbled, snatching you off his lap and throwing you over his shoulder. You laughed at this, kicking your legs eagerly as he delivered you onto the bed and pinned you under his weight.

"Your precious twins told me what a sweet girl you are." He taunted you, pinning your wrists by your head. "How trusting and innocent"

He ducked his head down to take a nipple into his mouth. The heat of his tongue and the gentle pressure of his teeth making your back arch and press your breast firmer against his face. Your moans came in sharp, quick gasps as one hand released your wrist in favor of massaging the other breast with rough, calloused palms. Your freed hand flew to his hair, gripping it tightly as you cried out.

"Do they know?" He pressed, scrapping his teeth over your tit before switching to the other side, "What an eager little slut you are? How happy you were to hop into bed with me?"

You wanted to shake your head, but in truth you weren't sure if he was actually expecting an answer. Instead, you tried to move your mind away from them and onto your husband.

"I don't want to talk about them" You confessed, "Oh fuck, just like that, Darling."

Sandor hummed thoughtfully at this.

"You don't want to think of them?"

"No."

"No?" Sandor, shifted upwards and turned his attention from your breasts to your neck, sucking so hard it would surely bruise. He rubbed the length of his cock up and down your slit teasingly.

"Then how about I fuck you so hard, you forget their names? Would you like that, sweetling?"

Your moan came out as a growl as you clawed at his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on top of you.

"Answer me."

"Yes" you begged, "Gods, Sandor I can't take much more waiting."

And you didn't have to. Sandor's knees began to push your legs apart as he lifted up enough to strip off his shirt and trousers.

He was large, larger than you had previously taken and your hesitance must have shown on your face, because instead of crawling back on top of you like he planned, he instead rolled over so you were on top straddling him.

The tip went in easy enough, but his cock grew girthier as you slid down, and by halfway you found yourself panting.

"Easy" He hushed you, "Go slowly."

You nodded, carefully bouncing on what you could take so far. It was far more filling than any you'd taken before, and it was as if something inside of you shifted with each little bit you took.

"Fuck' You whimpered; eye twisted closed in focus "I'm not sure it'll fit."

Rough fingers found your clit, shocking your eyes open as it rolled and pressed against the sensitive bundle.

"Ah" You gasped, instinctively rolling your hips and rocking to the tempo. "Oh Gods,"

"That's it" Sandor breathed, watching as a bit more of his length sank deeper into your cunt, "just relax and take it like I know you can."

Your core began to tighten as his fingers pressed harder and his other hand began to guide you in sliding up and down the length of his cock, taking it a little deeper each time.

"Good girl, sweet girl" Sandor's breath was getting heavier, closing his eyes to focus and to push his release off as long as possible. "Just like that, fuck."

After thinking you had grown accustomed to his size, you bounced a little harder and cried out in shock. Sandor's cock filled you to the hilt, your hips pressed together as close as possible.

"Sh, sh." Sandor wrapped one arm around your waist and one round your shoulders, shifting into a sitting position while still buried deep inside of you. "Breathe, just breathe."

"Fuck" You gripped his broad shoulders, "it's. deep" you spoke between gasps.

"Do you want to stop?"

"No." You shook your head. "No, I just need a minute."

Sandor didn't protest, instead focusing on the shifting and pulsing walls wrapped around his cock, desperately attempting to accommodate him.

"Look at me." He breathed.

You obeyed, leaning back to face him fully.

It was a level of intimacy you had never experienced before, or even thought possible. Him being buried so deeply inside of you as you straddled his hips. Chest to chest, both breathing heavily.

You looked him in the eye, frowning for a moment before reaching up to brush away the shaggy hair that hung over the scarred half of his face.

"There you are" You whispered playfully, trying to break the tension enough to relax.

"Gods" Sandor breathed, "You look beautiful like this."

Entwining your fingers behind his neck, you rocked your hips slowly, not allowing his length to withdraw entirely before rocking back as before.

This time you kept him nestled deep inside of you as you panted and ground against him. The friction reached your clit, sending lightening through your hips and urging you forward.

Sandor groaned, feeling you clench around him as you chased your high. Your hands tangled in his hair and pressed his face to yours, catching his lips and exploring each other's mouths with curious tongues and eager lips.

"Fuck" you squealed into his ear, locking your arms around his neck. "I'm so close. So close, please. Gods, ah"

Your words came as nearly incoherent ramblings, hips bucking and grinding against him desperately until a flood of pleasure filled you.

It wasn't like with Cersei, or with Jaime. They had been fast, and brutal. Their pleasure came like a bolt of lightning hitting the back of the skull.

This pleasure came like a flash flood, filling you quickly and lingering as your muscles spasmed and tenses in an unknown rhythm. It ebbed away slowly but left you warm and glowing.

When Sandor realized you were cumming, he allowed himself to release deeply inside of you, flooding your womb with his seed and a heat that filled your stomach.

As the flood ebbed away, the two of you sat there, still connected and not wanting to separate.

"I want to stay like this." you begged him in a whisper he couldn't bear to deny. "Please."

Nodding, he pulled the blanket that had fallen half off the bed over the two of you as you leaned on his chest, your chin resting on his shoulder. Neither of you spoke, only lulling each other into sleep with gentle touches and heavy breathing.

#sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane imagine #cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister imagine #sandor clegane smut #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf smut #game of thrones smut #game of thrones fanfiction #game of throne imagine #Her Grace's Handmaiden

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year ago

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Between a Wolf and a Hound I

Sandor Clegane x Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x Baratheon!Reader

Summary: Sandor Clegane was never naïve enough to think he could marry the king's daughter but it doesn't make it any easier to see her married off.

Warnings: Full disclosure I wrote this in sections over the course of like two months so it's a bit jumbled. POV will randomly switch from first to third and back to first with no clear indication (sorry).

Real Warnings: Arranged marriage, cursing, angst, fighting, smut, public consummation, non/dubcon (didn't enter marriage willingly, therefore consummation is not consensual esp with witnesses)

Word Count: 5.8K

Masterlist | Part II

“Ooh and I’ve heard Robb Stark is the most handsome man in all of the North,” my sister, Myrcella squealed in excitement for me.

I tried my best to feign the same excitement, especially in the presence of my mother. She initially wasn’t particularly thrilled about the betrothal between the Stark heir and me but it was my father’s decision. So, making the best of an unideal situation, she had been grooming me to be a perfect princess and wife. “Myrcella, princesses don’t gush,” Cersei chastised. My sister’s excited expression quickly dropped and she looked down at her feet. Fortunately before my mother could turn her poison tongue on me, there were a few shouts calling for us to halt and the carriage stopped.

Cersei opened the curtain to the carriage window, revealing the barren land of the North, a looming wall of stone obstructing our view of what I assumed to be Winterfell. Of course there wasn’t much of a view to be found in the North. Everything was cold and grey, either dead or dying. The only thing that kept me me from casting myself from the towers of the Red Keep was the fact that in the north, my family wouldn’t bother me. I could be away from the schemings of the Lannisters and the general sense of betrayal within King’s Landing. “Remember, you curtesy and smile politely. You speak only if spoken to and then it’s right off to your chambers until dinner,” my mother told me.

“Yes, mother,” I agreed, nodding my head obediently. The carriage moved again shortly and I watched as the walls moved past us, bringing us into a cold courtyard. After another minute the door to our carriage swung open, letting in a gust of cold wind.

Myrcella crept out first, being met by a guard. I made my way to the door next, revealing my sworn shield, Sandor Clegane. I was relieved to see him, seeing as I haven’t been able to speak to him since we left King’s Landing. “Princess,” he greeted. I only stared up at him, reluctant to let him lead me to greet my future husband, a task he didn’t take pleasure in either.

A gentle tug on my hand brought me back to reality and I let him march me up to my father and brothers. I could feel Sandor’s presence behind me as I observed the Stark family. The young man, who I presumed to be Robb had his gaze on me before looking up, likely to meet the glare of my lover.

Robb quickly averted his gaze from the intimidating guard flanking his betrothed. He returned his gaze to her, admiring her summer beauty. He knew he could fall in love with her just as his parents had after they were married.

I didn’t pay attention to to the reunion of my father and Lord Stark, just wishing to run back to the warm summer of King’s Landing with Sandor.

As my father began to suggest a tour my mother cut in. “I suggest we send the girls to their chambers until the feast.”

“I will escort-” Robb began to offer but was quickly cut off both by Sandor’s growl and Cersei’s sneer.

“No, The Hound and a maid will escort them,” she dismissed.

“Of course your grace,” Lady Stark obeyed, calling for a servant to fetch her most trusted maid.

Not even a minute later a very out of breath woman scurried in. “This way your highnesses,” she quickly cut to the chase, beginning to lead us away. I followed after her first, Myrcella reluctantly following, disappointed at the loss of excitement, and Sandor surely following behind.

We wordlessly walked through the cold hallways until we reached two rooms. Myrcella took the first one and I took the second. I was reluctant to leave Sandor but he stoically took his position outside the doors.

The room was large with a canopy bed in the center between two windows. There was a washroom and closet attached. I was surprised to find my trunk laid at the foot of my bed.

Heading towards the window I found nothing but miles of grey trees lying just beyond the walls of Winterfell. My mind wandered to all the horrific creatures that could live in these woods as well as beyond the Wall that separated Westeros from the rest of the continent. But before I could delve too deep into those thoughts, the opening of my chamber door interrupted me. Turning around I found Sandor. I opened my mouth to greet him but he spoke before I could. “I don’t want you marrying that cunt.”

I sighed. This wasn’t a new topic, I was betrothed the minute I was born, and neither Sandor nor I were naïve enough to think that we could ever be married. “I know, I don’t want to marry him either.” I approached him, wrapping my arms around his large frame. “I don’t want to live here,” I nearly began to cry. “It’s cold and I don’t know anyone and no one will let me bring guards or servants that I’ve known all my life.”

“Fuck ‘em I’ll be here with you,” he swore, tightening his arms around me.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that while I’m married off to someone else.”

“I’ve known this would happen the whole time, I’m not leaving you with strangers,” he grunted out. “Besides you and I both know you’re mine.”

“I am,” I heard myself agree, pushing up onto my toes to press my lips to his. Sandor still having to lean down to kiss me because of his stature.

I pulled back a little, not expecting to do anymore than kiss him right now but his lips followed. I allowed our lips remain connected as I felt his hands reach under my ass and thighs. He lifted me up, taking the short trek to my temporary bed for the time we stayed.

Laying me down gently he got right to work hoisting my dress up to my hips, never disconnecting our lips. I let out a soft moan into his mouth as his fingers briefly brushed over my clit. In an experienced move he tugged at my undergarments, leaving my core vulnerable to him.

Quickies were a regular occurrence for us seeing as our relationship was forbidden and I was hardly every left alone. We had to make the most of our time together.

In a well practiced move Sandor had his armor and pants down, exposing his length to me. I felt his cock drag up my already wet slit, teasing me slightly before pressing inside me. I tried to muffle my gasp at the sudden intrusion, wary of what may lie just beyond the walls of the room.

“Squeezing me so tight,” Sandor grunted in my ear, continuing to thrust himself inside of me. His hand slipped down to where our bodies met, his fingers finding my clit once again. I let out a soft moan, wrapping my legs around his waist at the feeling. “I’m the only one who can make you feel like this,” he groaned out. “This pussy is mine.”

“It’s yours,” I agreed with a moan. He then suddenly pulled out of me and I whined at the loss. He reached for the only spare piece of fabric to catch his seed, my panties. I watched breathlessly as he fisted his cock twice, cumming into my panties with a muffled groan.

Once he had thoroughly milked himself dry he tucked the soiled fabric into his armor before delving in between my thighs. He wasted no time licking at my already leaking hole. I involuntarily let out a soft moan, reaching down to grip his hair in order to ground myself.

It didn’t take me long to finish as my lover had his face pressed against my weeping core. And when I did cum on his face he simply took the panties he had used earlier to clean myself and him up before tucking them back into his armor. “Did so good for me, Princess,” he praised, pressing a rare, gentle kiss to my forehead. I relaxed into his touch, enjoying the comfort of his large frame.

He began to get up but my arms slid around his broad chest. “Wait, just… stay with me a moment?” He hesitated for a second before relaxing against me once again, wrapping me in his embrace as I had done to him.

“I can’t stay too long, little one,” he explained softly.

“I know I just need you right now,” I murmured, pressing my face into the crook of his neck.

I was jolted awake by a knock on my door. My thoughts were immediately of ‘how do I explain why my guard is in my bed?’ but I found myself alone. Relieved, I called whoever knocked in.

“You fell asleep?!” I heard my mother gasp. “You’ll have to change quickly,” she groaned, immediately going to my trunk. She angrily sifted around until she found a suitable gown, tossing it onto the bed. “Get dressed, The Hound will be here to escort you to dinner soon. Myrcella is already dressed,” she spat. Cersei had always favored my siblings over me, I suspect because I took after my father while they looked more like Lannisters. She had always taken great pride in her Lannister name, not Baratheon although she loved her title as Queen even more.

“Yes mother,” I obeyed, grasping the dress as she exited, slamming the door behind her.

I quickly slipped out of my traveling clothes into the more ornate dress. I managed to get it on alright but struggled with some of the bindings in the back. Fortunately Sandor came to my rescue, knocking on the door gently before letting himself in. “Do you want some help, Princess?” he asked half mockingly.

I sent him a glare before begrudgingly agreeing. I could feel the warmth radiating off Sandor as he stepped up behind me, grabbing the laces. He gave an unexpected sharp tug, causing me to stumble backwards into him. “Woah, Princess.” He caught me before pushing me back up onto my feet.

“Not that tight,” I told him. He adjusted, tying my dress snugly before stepping back. I looked up at him sadly seeing as this feast would be my formal introduction to my husband.

Upon reaching the hall full of cheers, laughter, and music, I was ready to turn back and run to the stables in order to find myself a horse to bring me home. But I steeled myself like the princess I am and marched into the room. Those who noticed my presence stepped aside and bowed their heads but most were already too drunk to notice. My father was already dancing with a servant directly in my mother’s eyeline. Fortunately she was too focused on my father as well as the Stark women to notice me. So I quickly found a goblet of wine, going to a remote wall with Sandor dutifully following after.

As I leaned up against the wall, I offered Sandor a drink but he just shook his head in refusal. “You never deny wine,” I stared at him quizzically.

His gaze never found mine, instead his eyes continued sweeping the room. “‘m working. Gotta keep you safe.”

“That’s never stopped you before,” I challenged. “You and I both know it takes far more than a glass of wine to intoxicate you.”

“I don’t trust these cunts,” Sandor answered, glaring at the rest of the room.

“Why? They seem like perfectly fine people. No worse than the people in King’s Landing.”

“I don’t trust the people in King’s Landing either.”

“Well I hardly doubt anyone will attempt to harm me at the feast to honor my father. Please relax, enjoy yourself.”

“That thinking is why you need a guard, little one.”

I just huffed, continuing to observe the room. Everyone was drunk and laughing with the exception of a few guards and women. My mother and Lady Stark looked quite stoic as they conversed occasionally. My youngest siblings sat with our uncle, Tyrion, while my younger brother, Joff, sat making eyes at Sansa, the second Stark child.

Meanwhile the eldest Stark was making his way over to me. “Princess,” he greeted, taking my hand gently. “Ser,” he looked up at Sandor, “might I borrow the princess for a moment? Get her acquainted to her new home?”

Sandor made no expression except to follow us. “He won’t allow me out of his sight, Queen’s orders,” I informed Robb.

“Ah, yes, well I suppose the maintenance of a princess’ safety and virtue are principal,” Robb mused as we exited the feast hall. “And your brother, the heir, he is…”

“A prick,” I filled in for him. “Don’t call him that to anyone but me but everyone knows it. Everyone but my mother, he can do no wrong in her eyes. Even my father isn’t thrilled that he is the one that will inherit the Iron Throne. I know he’s been making eyes at your sister, I’d advise both our fathers to keep them separated. They’re already joining our houses through us.”

“I don’t think Sansa will take too kindly to that,” Robb laughed. “She is holding firm in her belief that she will be queen.”

“Advise her that queen is a position one should not covet. The kings have their men, their counsels, and their whores. Queens have less authority than any other woman. And she’d be dodging attacks from all my relatives for the rest of her life.”

“You seem relieved to be leaving King’s Landing,” Robb observed.

I shrugged, looking out a window into the dark, cold, barren land on the North. “My father is refusing to allow me to bring any comforts of home. Please don’t take offense but the North is strange to me and I’m not even allowed to bring any familiar servants or guards. Even my sworn shield, Sandor, must leave me.”

Robb took a second to observe my guard. “My mother came here, alone much like you will. She tells me she was terrified to live in the North but she has found happiness here.” Robb’s hand reached up to softly stroke my cheekbone. “I sincerely hope you too will find happiness here, little doe. And I will speak to my father about your guard. If anyone can convince the King, it is Lord Stark,” he smiled before walking off. I looked around, realizing that he had led us to my chambers, giving me an excuse to retire for the night.

So I entered the room, Sandor following me inside. “Robb is… honorable,” I said.

Sandor just grunted. He’d never admit it but if she was going to be married off to any lord, Robb Stark was probably the best choice. He seemed to take her feelings into consideration rather than drag her into his life in the North.

By the next day Winterfell had shifted from celebrations of the king to celebrations of the next Lord Stark’s marriage. The fortress’ servants were bustling around for wedding preparations while the dressmakers of both King’s Landing and the north constantly flitted around the princess. “The princess cannot possibly be married in such… rough materials. A princess dresses in silks and fine linens,” my mother’s seamstress argued, gesturing to the trunk full of fine fabrics.

“The princess cannot be married if she freezes to death,” Lady Stark’s seamstress said for the hundredth time. “It is customary for northern women to wear furs to their weddings.” I just sat on a bench, deep into my wine as they continued to bicker.

“But the queen-”

“She will be of the North!”

“‘Of north,’ ‘of south,’ gods,” I groaned to Sandor as he stood beside me. “I may as well just walk down the aisle naked seeing as this dress will never be made.”

Sandor chucked from beside me. He kept his voice low so the women wouldn’t be heard but they were so wrapped up in their bickering I doubt they’d notice if we had begun kissing. “I’m sure the queen will have her way and you’ll be married in the finest of silks whether or not you freeze to death.”

“If my mother had her way I’d be blonde and marrying one of my Lannister cousins,” I mumbled.

“Well, I’d rather you marry the Stark boy than any of the Lannister cunts.” I just hummed, keeping my focus on the glass lightly pressed to my lips. The door then opened, revealing Lady Stark and Robb.

I stood up, giving a slight curtsy to my soon to be mother-in-law. “We heard your dress is being made and we wanted to show you this,” Lady Sark said, gesturing to the bundle of fur in Robb’s arms.

He stepped closer to me. “This is the cloak I will present you at our wedding. This will be the cloak I wear when I am made Lord of Winterfell. Stark Lords present their cloaks to their brides as a display of honor and my duty to you.”

I looked down at the cloak in awe, reaching my hand up to touch the fine furs. They were soft and thick, more than enough to keep me warm. “Thank you, my Lord. Believe me, the sincerity of this gesture is not lost upon me.” I looked up, finding Robb’s smile.

Lady Stark smiled upon seeing how the soon to be couple interacted. It was clear that Robb was taken with the girl and she was relieved a royal Baratheon-Lannister was kind and fair. That she didn’t treat Robb and the rest of the Starks as lesser than. Or show contempt for being moved north.

I turned, finding the dressmakers still quietly bickering. “The dress will be of Southern style and material but I want the embroidery to be Northern. I trust the dress paired with the cloak will be acceptable to both cultures?” I asked rhetorically. The two dressmakers gave me nodded agreements. “Tell my mother of my plans, I’m sure she’ll take issue with it but she will want to know,” I told the southern seamstress.

“If you want your part of the wedding to have southern influence I don’t mind,” Robb began.

“The southern traditions are simply to appease the Lannisters. Believe me I am anxious to be separated from many aspects of my former life.” All aspects except Sandor.

He offered a small smile. “Well then, I hope the North provides a better home for you,” he said before leaving with his mother.

“Spoken like the true Lady of the North,” Sandor said in a mildly mocking tone.

I just looked at the northern dressmaker. “Leave us for a few moments.” She complied, scurrying out of the room. “Sandor…”

“You didn’t like your life in King’s Landing? Too many servants prepared to get you whatever your heart desires?” he spat, venom on his tongue. He knew his anger was misplaced but he couldn’t help but burst. He was angry at the king for marrying her off and not allowing him to stay. Angry at the Starks for falling in love with her so quickly. And angry at the princess for slipping into this life without him so easily. “Too many guards risking their lives, dying to protect you? Did the noise of me fighting to defend your honor disturb your slumber?” He was circling her as he spoke while she just stood in the center of the room.

“Sandor, you know that’s not what I meant,” she said, her voice strained.

“Then what did you mean?” he sneered.

“When I said I was anxious to leave my former life that did not include you. It will never include you. I do not rejoice in the pain I’m sure I’m dragging you through but have you failed to consider that I’m in pain too?”

Sandor knew he should stop but he didn’t. “I’m sure your husband can take your mind off of that whilst you warm his bed.” The hurt look on her face at that comment was nearly enough to make him forget his rage. Nearly. “I’ll send the seamstresses back in, don’t leave this room until I come back,” he growled.

“Is that all I am to you? Something to warm your cock?” I spat making him stop dead in his tracks. “What? Did you just want to fuck a princess so you could brag to the others? And I just became this pest you couldn’t get rid of?”

Sandor sighed. “No, little one. You’re more than that.” And with that, he walked out. I knew his last words were an apology and that he needed some time.

I stood before my parents in my father’s chambers, begging for them to let me keep Sandor. “Father, please. I’ll have no one here. There is no one familiar to me in the north.”

“I’m sorry my dear but we cannot spare the Hound to you and only you. Besides, it would be an insult to the Starks’ promise to keep you from harm if we left a guard with you.”

“Robb has already given his blessing,” I insisted.

“We need him,” my mother spoke up. “Your time with the Hound and with our protection is over. It’s time for the Starks to take care of you. As the heir to the Iron Throne, your brother needs him more.”

“But he has been my guard these past three years.”

“That’s enough,” my father chastised. “Leave, go get ready for your wedding.” Unable to ignore a direct order, I turned, leaving the room like a scared puppy. As I stepped out the door and down the hall, Sandor found his step beside me. He allowed his fingers to find mine, intertwining them briefly before letting go for fear that we would be spotted.

We made our way to what would serve as my and the other Stark women’s dressing room. But before I went in, I hesitated. I looked up at Sandor. “I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you too, little one,” he murmured before opening the door for mw.

I was immediately confronted with the Stark women. Lady Stark, Sansa, and Arya were all dressed in formal northern dresses. Servants were flittering around them, doing the finishing touches on their outfits and hair. When they saw me, several descended, bringing me towards a vanity. They sat me down, immediately undoing the fastenings in my hair so they could redo it for the wedding. I stared blankly in the mirror as they did my hair. I could hear Arya fussing about her gown and hair, Lady Stark trying to soothe her while Sansa continued directing the servant doing her hair.

After a while of more tugging they finally deemed my hair good enough. There were several intricate braids twisted in it, pulling my hair back. A northern hairstyle. They then ushered me to put on my dress. It was white and made of mostly silk, tied tightly around my neck and lower back to keep it on me. The gold threaded embroidery on the hem showed scenes of nature in a Northern stitching style. Decorative gold chains also fell against my arms and up my back. As everyone stepped back to see a shiver went up my spine and I realized the dress was backless. I approached the mirror, turning to see the silk of the dress begin again at the dimples of my lower back.

“A bit nippy for the North,” I laughed.

“We’ll get you in that cloak soon enough,” Lady Stark smiled. “Leave us,” she ordered, all of the servants filing out. “You too,” she told her daughters. They complied with little argument and soon enough it was just the two of us. “Are you ready for the ceremony tonight?”

I blinked confusedly. “What ceremony?”

“The bedding ceremony. You didn’t know?” she asked, surprised. “Oh I’m so sorry my dear,” she placed a hand on my arm. “Lord Stark and I tried to fight it but the Lannisters insisted. Said it was tradition and was the only way to ensure the marriage.” She recognized my panicked expression, immediately going to soothe me. “No, no it’ll be alright. It’s a dull affair. Trust me, no one wants to be in that room. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Did you have one? A public bedding ceremony?” I asked.

“Well no but—”

I moved to sit down, it felt as if I couldn’t breathe. But before I could burst into tears and ruin all the prep work that was put in to making me look as flawless as possible, there was a knock on the door. My father entered, a cheery smile on his face. “There is going to be a bedding ceremony and no one told me?” I asked angrily.

His smile dropped and he sighed. “I’m sorry. Your Uncle Jamie and grandfather insisted on it. You’ll be alright, your mother and I had one. And many princes, princesses, lords, and ladies have had one before you.” Seeing as there was no time to argue or to have a breakdown I took a breath, steeling myself just as my mother had taught me in the face of adversary. “Atta girl,” he praised, seeing my now calm exterior.

I took his arm, allowing him to lead me outside. We headed to the Godswood of Winterfell, meeting the cold outside with shivers. I could not believe I let my dress be of southern influence. "Why is the wedding outside?" I asked between shivers.

"Ned said that Robb had always wanted to be married in front of the Weirwood Heart Tree. I just nodded as we reached the center of the woods.

I stood at the end of the aisle, holding my father’s arm as I faced the rest of my life standing in front of the tree. As the orchestra began I took in-sync steps with my father until I was at the end of the aisle. Robb stepped towards me, taking my hand and lead me to the Septon. “You look beautiful,” he whispered. I could not muster any words so I just gave him a small smile.

As I took my place beside Robb the Septon spoke. “You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.” Robb then took the cloak he promised me from his back, wrapping it around my shoulders with a swing, bringing both arms around me. I was grateful to feel its warmth, but it was so large and heavy it nearly slipped off my shoulders but he caught it, fastening it around my throat. He then took my hand, facing the Septon who wrapped our hands together in cloth. “We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Let it be known that Y/N of House Baratheon, born of Lannister, princess of the Seven Kingdoms, and Robbert of House Stark, born of Tully, the heir to the Lord of Winterfell are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby sinew these two souls binding them as one for eternity,” he smiled. “Look upon one another, and say the words.”

I turned slightly, facing Robb as he did the same and we began to speak in unison. “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.

“I am hers and she is mine,

“I am his and he is mine,

“From this day until the end of my days,” we finished together.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love,” Robb declared before pulling my body to his, his arms around my waist. I reached my hand up to his face as our lips connected. When we separated I could finally hear the cheers of the Starks and their guests. Meanwhile my family clapped politely as Robb took my hand with a large grin, leading me down the aisle.

I snapped out of my daze, realizing that Robb had placed food on my plate. I rushed to thank him, hoping my mental absence wasn’t too noticeable.

A small smile formed on his face. “You’re not really one for large gatherings or ceremonies are you? At your father’s feast you stood secluded with the only person you trust. Then at our wedding you only seemed to be paying attention when you were looking at me.”

I looked down at the table, a little embarrassed. “No, not really. Embarrassing isn’t it? A princess who cannot face a crowd.”

“You’re Lady of the North now. I can handle all the formalities,” he smiled. I returned it gratefully.

As the night wore on more people came up to our table to give us congratulations and present their gifts. Robb spoke mostly, always gracious. He was already a great leader.

“So my mother tells me you were a bit blindsided by the bedding ceremony?” he asked. I looked down at my lap, fiddling with the table cloth. “I cannot believe your relatives would be so cruel to not tell you it was happening.”

“I think they were cruel to suggest it in the first place. Although I think they didn’t tell me for fear that I’d run away,” I laughed. Robb joined me.

“It’ll be alright, and please don’t judge my capabilities as your husband from tonight alone. I have no intentions of being a selfish lover but I am told we cannot leave until I finish. They don’t expect you too…”

“Right, of course,” I agreed, placing my hand on top of his. “Do whatever you need to get us out of there as quickly as possible.”

A new presence in front of us interrupted our deal-making. “It’s time,” my mother announced. I nodded, standing up with a shaky breath. I followed her through Winterfell until we reached a remote room. “Remember, just lie back it will all be over soon,” she advised me. As much as she held resentment for her first daughter being Robert’s child as well, she still held some love for her daughter and couldn’t help but pity the poor girl who was about to go through the most traumatic experience of her life.

“But mother, what if I don’t bleed like I’m supposed to?” I cried, terrified of what they would do to me.

“Not everyone bleeds,” Cersei assured me. “I didn’t and I still became Queen. You will be fine. Now go.”

I wanted to cry as the doors opened. Inside was a single “bed.” It being merely a mattress on top of a bed frame with no coverings to shield myself aside from a sheet meant to display the loss of my virginity. Several men lined the walls of the room, there to assure the consummation of my marriage. I recognized all the Lannister men as well as Lord Stark and cringed as I saw my father. But my heart sunk when I found Sandor’s gaze. I didn’t want him to have to see this.

A lower lord waved his hand over to the bed, gesturing for me to get in. I began to crawl onto it when a voice stopped me. “Disrobe, girl,” I heard a man sneer. I burned with humiliation as I was forced to remove the beautiful dress within everyone’s view, leaving me vulnerable to a few greedy men’s gaze.

I laid on the bed, trying my best to cover myself with my hands, refusing to look anyone in the face.

Soon enough the door opened again and Robb entered, looking nervous as well. But I watched him steel himself as he marched confidently over to my bed, stripping off his armor as he went. By the time he stood next to the bed he was bare as well, his cock standing up already.

Also wanting to get this over with, he swung his body up onto the bed, his hips hovering just above mine. I could feel his cock already pressing against my most intimate areas.

Robb leaned down as if to kiss me but whispered “I’m sorry,” first. His lips met mine before he quickly reached down to guide himself inside of me. I gasped in pain as he pressed into my completely dry hole.

He began to thrust quickly while I heard myself let out soft whimpers of pain. I tried to recede back into my mind but was unsuccessful as the pain was too much. I even heard myself beg him to stop a few times. But Robb would just lean down and whisper something about almost being done. He would continue chasing his pleasure as he tried to complete the task so we could both retire for the night.

Desperate for help I glanced around the room, not thinking clearly as I should have known that these men would not help me. Most of their gazes were almost bored, focusing on where Robb and I were connected in order to verify our union. I noticed a few lustful gazes from lords whose names I did not know. When I found Sandor I noticed his disassociated expression, something I did not blame him for.

Soon enough I heard Robb groan in my ear before I felt something I had never experienced. Robb released his ropes of cum inside of me, allowing his seed to coat my walls in hopes I would produce him an heir.

He stilled inside of me for a moment, not pulling out until he caught his breath. When he did I felt his seed trickle out of me and I looked down in between my legs, relieved to find blood. In their eyes my virginity had been taken even though the real deflowerer was acting as an observer.

Before I was allowed to move, Robb crawled off of me, quickly finding his pants. Next the King, my father, stood up to observe the proof of our consummation between my legs. I knew it was because he was the king but I still felt that he shouldn’t have to be the one to confirm.

He merely glanced quickly, giving me the slightest bit of dignity before dismissing the men. They all filed out as a maid came, bringing me a silk robe. I took it graciously, standing up so she could take the sheet.

Once I was sure the men had all cleared from the immediate hallways I ran out, desperate to find Sandor before someone sent me to Robb’s chambers.

Masterlist | Part II

#game of thrones #got #got x reader #game of thrones x reader #sandor #sandor clegane #sandor x reader #sandor clegane x reader #the hound #the hound x reader #robb #robb stark #robb stark x reader #stark x reader #Sandor Clegane x reader x Robb stark

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writingsofwesteros · 2 years ago

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i saw that you had you requests open :)

first of all i love your account you are amazing <33

could I request the hound x reader (cersei and roberts daughter) maybe he is her guard

nsfw the rest is up to you

love you take care of yourself <3

------------

AN: Hi, I hope you like it. Thank you so much, hope you are well <3

NSFW

The soft moans escaping you echoed around the beautiful chambers of a Princess. Your delicate hands resting on the wooden door in front of you; your face pushed on as you looked to the side. The silk dress ripped to pieces and on the marble floor; leaving you completely bare. “Sandor….” You whimpered out breathlessly.

The large guard of yours was behind you. His hand moving to rest on top of yours as his fat, thick cock inch by inch deliciously filled you and not for the first time. “Fucking dirty Princess, what would they think of you?” He purred into your ear. A bright, warm blush made its way over your cheeks as you whimpered his name once more.

Those thick locks of yours were grabbed by his free hand as he brought your head back. Those big eyes of yours locking onto him. Soon, he leaned in and passionately captured your soft lips. His thick tongue finding your own. The kiss soon became messy as you drooled; the knight sucking on your tongue some more.

His larger hand is slowly moving to your throat now. The feel of him only had you fluttering around his cock some more. Something the hound noticed with a growing smirk coming across his face. The wet sounds of your bodies slapping against each other echoed around the room as sweet hiccups of pleasure left you.

His free hand moved up and down your sides now before greedily reaching to palm your bouncing, ample breast. His fingers brushing over your pebbled nipple before pinching it. Your wetness gushing down his length as he did. “Good girl…so good.” Sandor whispered sweet nothings as his thrusts continued to quicken.

He rested his head on your shoulder with his dark eyes looking down; the erotic sight in front of him had the hound moaning. A ring of cream formed around his fat cock as he slammed in and out of your soaked pussy. Gods, you were still so tight even after he’d ruined you over and over again. You were perfect, he thought to himself.

Not that he would tell you this - not yet, maybe not ever. It was not going to end well; he was not stupid but the temptation was too addictive especially when the pretty Princess begged for it. The moment was harshly interrupted with a knock on the door he had you pressed against. “Y/N …are you awake?” The sound of your mother’s voice had your eyes widening; a whimper nearly escaping you as you locked eyes with Sandor.

The amusement in his dark eyes were as clear as anything; his fingers tugged your hair once more causing you to gasp. “Are you well?” Cersei continued. “I think you should answer her.” Sandor purred; his hand slowly moving south. His thick fingers brushed against your soaked pussy; touching your sensitive clit without care.

“I am bathing….” You gasped out; better than you thought you could speak as his movements only quickened. “Oh…I…” Her mother stumbled; so unlike the Lioness, you thought to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut. His knuckles captured your sensitive clit and had you crying out before you could stop yourself.

“Y/N…” Your name was called again; concern creeping into her tone. Sandor could only darkly chuckle in your ears. “It’s all good…just nearly slipped..” The words fumbled from your mouth as he pushed deeper than before. Gods, you were so full. “All good…” You practically purred out; eyes rolling back in pleasure once more.

His hips slammed; thrusting hard and taking your breath away. “I will see you in the morning.” The Queen’s voice moved through the door once more. Your hand reached to settle on the door as his thrusts continued. “I do not think you would have stopped even if she had come in.” Sandor teased; leaning in to mark at your soft neck.

Your body shivered against him as his free hand moved to tug your locks. Your head falling back once more. His thick fingers still drummed against your weeping pussy; the wet sounds echoing around the room. A choked moan escaped you as his fat head pressed against your spongy spot with each thrust he gave.

Your stomach was tightening in pleasure as you moaned up at him; Sandor’s name falling sweetly from your lips. Your soft, ample breasts continued to bounce as the hound kept you impossibly close against his chest. “Fuck, that’s it…” Sandor groaned; hardly containing himself now as the movements only quickened.

He harshly began to rub at your sensitive clit; your legs shaking as he did and thankfully for his strong hold around you or you would have fallen. The hand in your hair slowly moved towards your opened mouth; his thick fingers slipping inside had you moaning. Softly, you began to suck on them as your heart pounded in your ears.

He pushed down on your tongue and watched the drool begin to fall from your mouth. His fingers became soaked on both of his hands. He could feel your pretty pussy clamping around his throbbing cock and the hound only harshly fucked you some more. “You will feel this in the morning,” Sandor threatened so deliciously.

You believed him - you always did feel him the next day. Thankfully, you had learnt to stop blushing when your eyes met. Your moans were muffled by his thrusting fingers as your orgasm was ripping through you without warning. You were squirting around his fat cock before the both of you knew it, which only had Sandor groaning in your ear.

“Fuck, such a dirty Princess.” He whispered; taunting you as you fell against the wall. Your mind softened as his pounding only continued. His hands reached for your hips and kept a harsh hold on them. His head bowed to watch once more. His fat cock spread you apart with ease as your legs continued to shake for him.

“Do you remember when you struggled to take me?” Sandor purred; his dark grin back on his face as he groaned in pleasure. “Hmm, when you squirt just from taking my head.” You whined at his words falling from his lips. Your cheeks flushing red as you slowly looked at him. “Sandor…” You were breathless now as his thrusts were becoming sloppy.

Your soaked pussy continued to flutter around him; already milking his fat cock as his greedy hands began to grope your body. His thrusts were deep and slow; the sound of his body slapping against your own echoed around the room. Another orgasm ripped through you before his cum was flooding deep inside you.

Your whole body was shaking now as you whined; your head falling back onto his chest. His whispers of praises continued as he gently pulled himself from you. His larger hands slowly moved up and down your body as you finally turned around. You were a mess, and he enjoyed it more than he should as your hazy eyes met him.

A soft gasp escaped you when Sandor leaned in; passionately capturing your soft lips as his tongue slowly brushed against your bottom lip. Your tongues met and danced so messily as he brought you against him; your soft, bare body against his dressed one. “Same time tomorrow?” He purred into your ear with a wicked grin.

#submission #sandor clegane x reader #request

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first-edition · 1 year ago

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Fox and the Hound

Chapter 10

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more.

Cw for chapter- mention of rape,mention of wine, alcohol consumption, description of blood and gore, description of prostitution, Cersei being a mean old drunk, talk of pregnancy, 18+ words and themes overall. Slight angst.

Read previous chapter here

You can hear the yelling and the screams of worry outside your chamber door or people hurrying through the halls. You doors open as you and your maids gasp.

“My apologies my lady but its time to go to the keep.” He says bowing.

“Of course.” You say gathering your skirt and hurrying out seeing the other ladies of the court hurrying down the hall.

“y/n.” you hear your name turing seeing sansa.

“Sansa!” you sigh of relief as she hugs you before you both continue down the hall with the others.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“Yes just a little scared.” you say she nods.

“Me too,” she replies her grip on your arm tightens.

“Where is sandor?” she asks.

“Fighting, hes still kings guard you know.” you say.

“Thats right..” she says

“Princess, my lady. His grace the king requests you see him off to the battle.” a guard speaks bowing to you and sansa who gives you a weary look before she nods back to the guard who escorts you both to the throne room.

—------

Hound walks into the court yard with joss and another as the other kings guard men drown themselves in whores and ale. Its silent as he walks through and sits pouring himself a drink.

“You're not staying underground with you lady wife?” bronn asks loudly as the foreign whore sits nude on his lap. A whore who shouldn't be so brave walks over to sandor placing her hand on his armored shoulder.

“If your lonely ser i could take care of y- Ah!” sandor swats her hand away so fiercely she stumbles back and falls.

“Touch me again girl and ill send you out nude first to the baratheon's army and they can have thier way with you.” he grumbles.

Bronn and some other men chuckle.

“Loyal to your woman are you? First rounds on me” he asks raising his cup to him.

Sandor rolls his eyes and presses the cup to his lips chugging the rest of whats in his cup.

“I dont think he likes me. Hes a prince lord now you see, he married the vixen princess but a while ago.” bronn says to the whore on his lap. Sandor sighs sitting back more than annoyed with bronns voice.

“Shut the fuck up before I cut you in half you little fairy.” sandor huffs.

“Its warm in here ser, weve got beautiful women and good ale and all you want is to put me in the cold dark ground. How kind of you.” bronn speaks once more.

More than before, Sandor is annoyed with bronn. Sandor gets up from his seat and walks over to bronn who now moves the whore off his lap.

“You think you a hard man, fucking, drinking telling stories and singing. You think thats the thing you love the most, but its not. Killing is what you love most. Your just like me. Only smaller.” Sandor says towering over bronn who also stands.

“Killing cant be the only thing you love. What about your lady wife” bronn speaks again tilting his head back to face hound who is about to draw his sword but the bells begin to ring and everyone hurries out of the court yard.

“One last drink eh?” bronn chuckle.

Sandor grumble rolling his eyes and turing away knowing he shouldve drank something stronger to deal with jofferys whining voice.

—----

You and sansa along with a few of youre maids behind you, stand in the throne you play with the sleeve of your dress.

“SANSA!! SANSA!” you hear joffrey yelling at him sandor and three other guards follow. The overwhelming fear you felt earlier floods your system hoping you not vomit again.

“Your grace?” she says hurrying to the king as you stay in place your hand pressed to your stomach.

“My lady? Are you alright?” you maiden says quietly. You nod shakily.

You watch as jeoffry makes sansa kiss his sword as he continues to boast about how they are going to win as they outnumber them even though kingslandings guard is half the size of stannis.

All the while sandor dosnt take his eyes off you as you watch sansa and jeoffry. He scans you, what your wearing, what you look like, your body language the way you fiddle with the sleeves of your dress. He memorizes every feature of your face. In case hes to die in battle tonight he wants you to be the last thing he remembers.

Another wave of nausea hits you as you stumble to the side your maiden rushes to you keeping you from falling. The wave is not enough to make you cough up your meal but its debilitating enough.

“My lady!” another hurries to you taking your arm. You give a small whimper in discomfort.

With out thinking sandor hurries to you as well. You dont notice hes infront of you until he speaks. Your eyes moving to the floor now to his face as he places a hand on your cheek.

“y/n? Are you alright?” he asks. You open your mouth to speak but only a whine of discomfort comes out.

More than anything he wants to stay with you but he knows he cant hes not allowed.

“S-sandor.. I have to tell you something.” you speak pained.

“DOG lets go!” you hear jeoffry order.

“Fuck..” sandor mumbles before letting go of you and walking off with the king.

“Come my lady, we must go down to the queen.” your maid says as you nod looking back to find sandor and the rest gone from the throne room.

Heading down the basement to under the keep you and sansa walk in but your interrupted from finding a place to sit when cersi calls you over to her she sits enjoying a glass of whine.

You walk over to her and sloppily curtsy.

“Hmm…you look pale? Has your red flower bloomed?” she ask

“N-no your grace.” you reply.

“Mm are you frightened child?” she asks.

“yes .” you speak plainly.

“Here. drink it'll ease your fear.” she says handing you a glass of wine.

“I'm not thirsty your grace.” you speak. Declining the alcoholic beverage.

“I didn't offer you water, dove.” she snaps at you.

“F-forgive me your grace but I cannot accept…” you say. Her hardened expression at you softens when she sees your hand rest on your lower stomach.

“You Are with child?” she ask you nod.

“Hmm. you shall bare a fine little lord. Does the hound know of your adversary.” she says pulling the glass away pouring the wine into her cup and then handing the extra cup to the maid behind her.

“....n-no your grace i haven't told him.” you say she gives a slight squint and frown before speaking.

“You've not told your lord husband especially on a day like this..when did you find out?” she asks rather harshly.

“T-today your grace just a few hours ago the maester confirmed it.” you speak the wave of nausea finally subsiding.

“Do you love the hound?” she ask. There it was again the nausea is back. Not caused by the babe in your womb but by the queens insistent ask.

“Yes your grace i do.” you reply.

“Then why haven't you told him.'' She demands more than asks.

“He's still a part of kings guard your grace. He’s busy.” you say giving an excuse other than you're terrified of his reaction.

“Fitting dont you think? He could die out there while you provide life in here…the souls of the dead fuel for the god to give your babe life..a small token of a litter you and my son's dog will have.” she says.

Everytime someone insults sandor as a dog, or a bitch, of some form of less than animal your blood boils. You want nothing more than to slap cersi across her face and yell but the hand you slapped her with would be cut off and your vocal cords your yelled at her with would be severed as your head rolls on the execution ground. Instead all you can speak is a mere.

“Yes your grace, it should do me the pleasure of gifting the lord clegane with sons.” you say she gives a smile knowing no matter how hard you try you can t be disobedient. She pats the seat on the pillows next to her gesturing for you to sit down next to her and you do.

“When i was your age i was pregnant with jeoffry. I did not love his grace the king but i love the children he has given me me flesh and blood my life line. It’s a good thing you love the hound you’ll his children even more.” she speaks before chugging her glass and then holding it out for more wine.

The entire night cersi drinks and rambles on about children and how shit being queen is. It's only stopped when ser merryn runs into the room. Covered in blood and drink. Women gasp at the sight of his and a few faint at the thought of what outside the gates look like.

“Your grace they have begun breaching the castle walls.” he says

“Where is jeoffry?” she says

“On the battle lines with the others.”

“Bring him to his chambers at once. I don't want to hear anything more, do you understand.” she huffs.

“Yes your grace" he says and runs out.

“Do you remember when i told you ser ilyn was here to protect us? I lied…when stannis breaches those walls he will take the city but he will not take us..not alive ser ilyn will be doing us a great favor my dove..you and your child will not have to perish under the sting of another mans cock but under a formidable blade.” she says drinking the rest of her cup.

You glance down before getting up and walking to the doors where guards stop you.

“Let her go.” cersi speaks you gather your dress enough that once the doors open you hurry out of the room alone leaving sansa and your ladies in waiting behind as you run through the halls and up the stairs you see other guard laying dead in the stairwell and even some servants bleeding to death.

Hurrying to your chambers you rush through the door seeing three men inside raiding it. You gasp out seeing them bloody as they snicker with their treasures.

“Oh look what we’ve got here.” The taller one says.

“Another treasure for us to take, and hmm looks to be a fresh maiden.” The fat one says as he chuckles looking up and down at you smirking.

“Don't come near me.” You say reaching for a spare blade Sandor had placed in the dresser drawer.

“Or what you’ll fight with those pretty little hands of yours?... My, my i wonder what other pretty parts you have.” The red haired one says.

You turn in a hurry to run to the dresser but the taller man grabs you. You scream at the top of your lungs as they throw you down on the ground. Holding you down to hike up your dress skirt.

“Let’s see how pretty your parts really are!” He says undoing his pants before ripping your dress as you scream and fight desperately trying to get out of the other two's grip as they hold you down.

The man's face suddenly drops and he falls to the floor with an axe in the back of his skull. You panic as tears fall down your cheek but it settles when you see Sandor in the doorway drawing his sword. The other men getting up and running at him with swords or thier own you crawl back twords the end of the bed. As you watch as Sandor grasp one man by the neck, easily towering over him and stabs his stomach, slashing him almost in two before dropping the body then snapping the other mans neck as his body thumps down onto the stone floor the blood seeping into the bear skin rug.

Sheathing his sword he walks up to you and kneels in front of you.

“Shh-sh now little fox it's alright I’ve got you.” He says lifting you up despite being bloody you wrap your arms around his hand strokes your hair kissing your head.

“We’re going.” He says pulling away from you before walking side to side packing things.

“Wh-where?”

“Someplace that isn’t burning perhaps north, south.” He says

“What about Sansa…the king?!” YOU exclaim’

“Fuck the king! He can die just fine on his own.” He says He continues to rummage around the room packing things but stops only when he realizes you're not moving. He looks at you in confusion but you shake your head.

“S-sandor i..i cant travel i cant leave.” You say He scoffs dropping the bag with a thud.

“This place is nothing but a burning pile of rubble with a second hand drift of cunts, you really want to stay here and burn.” He says.

“S-stay here with us Sandor.” You say he scoffs, shaking his head at you.

“Ive been burnt before little fox and its not all fun and games.” He says but continues to watch for any movement you make. But his expression changes from pleading to confusion replaying what you had said just a moment ago.

“Us?” he ask shaking his head. “I'm not staying here with the royal court.” he says

“No no us.” you say taking his hand placing it against your stomach looking up at him. Your heart beating out of your chest at having to finally tell him.

“Me and him.” you say again.

“Come with me.” He says.

“I-…” you begin.

He grabs your arms and gruffly speaks to you.

“Please.”

Next chapter here

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#sandor x reader #sandor the hound clegane #sandorclegane #sandor clegane x reader #Sandor clegane x reader fluff #Sandor x princess reader #Sandor clegane x princess reader #fox and the hound

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catsteeth · 5 months ago

Text

The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 13 ✿:+ What is Loyalty?

Chapter Index | next chapter

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: MDNI, SMUT, NSFW themes, Sandor “my wife” Clegane, Unprotected P in V sex, Oral sex (Fem rec), multiple reader orgasms, insecure reader, misogyny, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage,

A/N: We're back at it again. A longer chapter for the come back lol

Word Count: 8.2K

Sandor was part of Jon Snow’s party as they traveled through the lands beyond the wall on their mission to capture a wight. The party walked many many miles. Sandor contemplated what he was doing, he hated the extreme cold, but he reminded himself he was doing it for you.

As he stopped to retie his boot, a tall, but much shorter than Sandor, red haired man approached him.

“You’re the one they call the dog!” The man shouted as he approached Sandor.

Sandor finished tying his boot, “Fuck off.” He huffed casually as he continued on.

The attitude did not deter the man as he followed Sandor, “They told me you were mean. Were you born mean or you just hate Wildlings?”

“Don’t give two shits about Wildlings. Gingers I hate.” He said scowling at the red haired man.

The man amused by his words continued to talk despite Sandors obvious wishes for the conversation to end, “Gingers are beautiful, we’re kissed by fire. Just like you-“ The man said pointing a finger at Sandor's burned face.

Sandor hit the mans hand down and away from him, “Don’t point your fucking finger at me.” He barked at him.

Sandor walked away and yet somehow the man was not put off. He smiled and continued to walk alongside Sandor.

“Did you trip into the fire when you were a baby?” The man pried into Sandor's past.

“I didn’t trip, I was pushed.” Sandor huffed as he kept walking, not looking at the man.

“And ever since you’ve been mean.” The man surmised.

“Will you fuck off?” Sandor annoyingly barked at him.

“I don’t think you’re truly mean. You have sad eyes.” The man tried to understand him, it struck a chord somewhere deep within him. He remembered how you once said something like that to him a long long time ago, whispered in the night as you held onto him. It was his final straw.

Sandor stopped and scowled down at the red haired man, “You want to suck my dick is that it?”

“Dick?” The man asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“Cock.” Sandor translated.

“Oh, dick... I like it.” The man shrugged, amused by the new word he had learned.

Sandor scrunched up his face, now just confused by the entire interaction, “Bet you do.” He mocked, as he continued to walk.

The man still followed him, “No, it’s pussy for me. I have a beauty waiting for me back in Winterfell, if I ever get back there. (Y/H/C) hair…(Y/E/C) eyes…About this tall,” He gestured to your height. Sandor thought for a moment how similar his description was of you. But he was convinced it was a coincidence. “The perfect height for me. .” The man continued on, “Sharp tongued, bravest woman you’d ever seen. A high bred southern bird from a castle in the sky they say.” He said as if the memory of you was a breath of fresh air. However the description of you ran cold through Sandors body.

Sandor stopped, and turned to the man, “(Y/N) Arryn?”

“You know her?” He asked, happy to hear your name.

“You are with (Y/N) fucking Arryn?!” Sandor stepped closer, his words dripping with violent anger.

The man almost shrunk as he explained, “Well not with her yet… but I’ve seen the way she looks at me.”

Sandor scoffed, “How does she look at you?” He stepped closer to him, his words were dark and heavy, “Like she wants to carve you up and eat your liver?” His eyes narrowed onto the man.

“You do know her.” He said, narrowing his eyes back.

“Aye, I know her.” He scoffed as he kept walking, angry and jealous.

“You seen her fight?” He asked, following along with still.

“Fight?” Sandor practically spit his words at him.

“She’s a killer. I saw her take an arrow to her leg, while she bit a man's finger off, then she took that arrow, snapped it in half and stabbed that man in his eye with it.” He spoke of the violent act you committed, as if it were romantic.

Sandor shook his head and scoffed, “You’re a mad fucker you know that?” He knew now for certain you had too much good sense to be with a man like him, too much good sense to even entertain the idea.

The man continued, “It’s true. Cut through four men. Rode an entire army into battle. And fed a man to dogs.” Sandor thought of it, the last he saw of you you were a girl alone with no money, no army, no family, and the iron throne as an enemy against you. How could you have done so much, accomplished “I want to make babies with her. Think of them, they’d conquer the world!”

Sandor snapped, turning to the man and grabbing him by his fur coat, “If you say the word babies again I'll strangle you with your own guts.” He barked loudly at him.

“There will be no fighting on account of my cousin. Not while she’s resting and not while we are on this mission.” Jon said, making Sandor huff and let go of the man.

“She’s your cousin now?” The man with red hair asked. Remembering when he told you you were not his cousin when you first met.

Jon looked down, somewhat regretful of his words, “She showed great loyalty to my blood, her blood. Cousin is close enough.” He said as he continued to walk, “And I will not have any of you fight over her favor when we’ve a matter of great importance to see to.”

Sandor reluctantly continued on, angry and jealous. But now he knew where you were, and knew you were alive. That was enough for him to continue.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You lost so much in the war. Lika was your horse sense you were but a child. She was the first horse you’d learned to ride. You lost the last man who was eternally loyal to you, the last man who loved you in the way only a father could. As if that weren’t enough, your body was now littered with healing scars. A constant reminder of the price you paid.

You sat by the fire in your chamber. You wore a white chemise and wrapped yourself in a fur as you examined the scar on your thigh. Running your finger over it, going over the memory of the pain.

As you did, your chamber door opened suddenly. Making you pull your chemise down and covering your bare legs.

Sansa walked in, closing the door behind her. “You’ve not left your chambers in some time.” She said, gently.

You let your guard down, relaxing. You looked into the fire, “Resting. Rest is needed to heal.”

“You're healed.” She said bluntly, you looked at her, “Well, your leg is healed.” She replied plainly.

You sighed, you knew she was right. You had used your injury as an excuse long enough. “Time they say.” you said dispassionately, “It heals all, though I am not sure of that.” You said gloomily.

Sansa approached you, sitting beside you, “You never told me.” You looked at her confused. “The man you said you loved, that Baelish took from you.” She clarified.

You took a deep breath, looking into the fire, “Sandor Clegane.” A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the sound of his name.

“The Hound.” She spoke calmly.

You shook your head slowly as you thought back to it, “I just called him Sandor.” You looked into the fire again. Sansa’s silence made you feel uneasy. You didn’t dare look at her, fearful of her reaction. You knew she and he were in Kings Landing at the same time, maybe she’d only seen the cruelty that was demanded of him. “I know many think he was cruel-”

She interrupted your words, “He clothed me once. When Joffrey ordered his men to strip me while they beat me in the throne room. He didn’t.” You looked at her, you listened to her story as warm tears began to rise in your eyes, and your nose and cheeks began to flush with heat, “He gave me his white cloak.” She placed a hand on yours, “He was kind.” She smiled softly as she spoke kindly of your beloved rather than pass any judgment. You were grateful for that.

You smiled, and sniffed your now runny nose, “Thank you.” You said as she wiped a tear from your cheek, forcing you to realize your tears had begun to fall. You breathed a laugh as you wiped them with the back of your hand. You looked down at the of yours hand that Sansa held, “I miss him.” You nodded, your smile falling, replaced with a frown, “His pain has ended, but… I am in agony.” You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed.

Sansa held you. It reminded you of when you both were in Kings Landing and the roles were reversed. You always held her when she cried, you tried your best to comfort her but it never worked. Now you understand.

You pulled away and swallowed your sobs, wiping away the rest of your tears with it. You took a deep breath.

Sansa tucked your hair behind your ear as she spoke softly, “You hide it well enough to the others.”

You huffed, tired of your emotion. “I have to have my moments of misery. If not I would throw myself from the highest tower I could find.” You let out one deep breath “You’re the only one I’d ever tell that to.”

“I understand the feeling.” She nodded,

You looked at her and focused on her experiences, “You’ve grown so much, you know. Not that you'd have any choice. Girls are beaten into women. But all the same, you’ve grown.” You forced a smile.

“In King's Landing I watched you closely. Every Time I was scared I thought of what you would have done. I learned how to carry myself from the strongest woman I know.” She smiled at you, and you smiled back, gripping tighter onto her hand. “Speaking of, I received this,” She looked down at the letters she received earlier that day.

You opened it, your brows furrowed, “An invitation to King's Landing?” You scoffed at such a ridiculous idea.

Sansa rolled her eyes in agreement, “For the both of us. For the Ladies of the North and East.” She sighed, “I know it is a part of Jon’s plan. But I can’t go back there.” She said defeatedly.

“I won’t leave you.” You said throwing the invitation into the fire you sat beside. “Send Brienne as your representative of the North. I will send Ser Leon in representation of myself.” You said confidently.

She nodded, looked down then back to you, “There is more than this. Bran and Arya have returned to Winterfell.”

You smiled, genuinely. You felt happiness for once in a very long while. Knowing Arya was safe gave you great happiness. You looked at Sansa, grinning from ear to ear. You grabbed ahold of both her hands, “I am happy for you.” You spoke earnestly.

Sansa however looked conflicted “He says he is something called the three eyed raven.”

“He sees visions?” You asked, you’d heard tales of such a thing but did not know if it were real.

“Of the past and the present, it would seem.” She explained, she looked at you with sympathetic eyes, “You should talk to him. Relieve yourself of some of those uncertainties.” You nodded.

You stood and looked out the window, you saw your men stationed in Winterfell. You felt once more the sting of responsibility. Then once more, I felt the weight of your sorrow. Conflicted with what others must have been saying. The maddened lady of grief.

“What are they saying?” You asked, you looked behind you towards Sansa, “About me?” You clarified.

“Stories of your bravery and loyalty towards your men and people have traveled far. They are calling you the relentless lady of the mountain and vale.” She smiled as she stepped towards you.

“A generous lie.” You said, still convinced otherwise.

She shook her head, “I’d not lie to you.” She said as she stepped closer, placing her hands on your shoulders, “Let’s dress you. I believe it is time you continued with your journey.”

You smiled, and nodded. You knew your duty. You knew your oath.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You walked along around the high walls of Winterfell. You looked down upon your men who had camped out front of the walls. Helping Northern houses with the preparations of the coming war. You smiled upon the Knights, you felt pride in them. You were not a northerner and yet still, you could feel the North's appreciation of your mens labors.

“You’re a woman now.” You heard from behind you. As you turned around you saw Arya. She stood taller than the last time you'd seen her. Dressed in black leather and fur.

You smiled, as you approached her, “I could say the same to you. Though you look more like a knight. It suits you.” You placed her hands on her shoulders, then ran them down to her hands.

“Thank you.” She smiled and nodded.

“I often wondered on you. How you were and what you were doing.” You spoke softly as your eyes took her in. Still surprised by how much she’d grown since you’d last seen her.

“If I was dead?” She asked bluntly,

You stifled a laugh, “No. No, I knew you and your needle would survive. You’ve a brave heart.” You said as you looked at her sword.

“As do you.” She said as she removed her sword, handing it to you. You took it in hand and examined it. “Only a brave heart could love a Hound.” She said as you looked at it. Your eyes darted from the blade back to her,

“Did Sansa tell you this?” You questioned her with narrow eyes.

She grinned as she shook her head, “No. He did.” You looked at her with interest as you handed her sword back to her. She put her sword back in its sheath “He took from the brotherhood. To sell me off to my mother and brother, then to aunt Lyssa. Though I suspect it was simply a ploy to get to you… I see it now.” She said as though she were proud of her observation.

You looked down, “What did he say?” You asked, almost embarrassed to ask it.

“He didn’t go on about it. Only that he failed you, and he cared for you.”

“Were you there when he died?”

Her ever present grin faded, “I left him there.”

You looked down, “It has taken a lot within me to hold my own bias aside. I understand he could be… abrasive. Hard for others to understand.”

Arya felt herself feel a slight tinge of guilt, “He fought for me harder than I’d ever seen anyone fight.” She said, attempting to comfort you, “I didn’t like him. But I can respect that.” She nodded, you smiled softly.

“You cannot tell anyone.” You commanded but it was practically a plea as you held onto her hand.

“I won’t.” She shook her head.

“I am so happy to see you.” You said with a smile, finally taking in the fact she was here.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Later in the courtyard you found Bran under the tree. You remembered what Sansa had said to you. You decided to see for yourself.

“Bran,” You announced your presence as you walked closer to him.

Bran looked over to you, “Cousin.” he stated stoically.

You smiled at him, “How you’ve grown. You’re a man now.”

“Almost.” He stated, again without emotion.

You sighed uncomfortably. Unsure of how or if you could comfort him. So you decided not to. “Sansa tells me you called yourself the three eyed raven.”

“I am.” He stated confidently.

You sat beside him, you smiled as you recounted a memory “I’d only heard stories of it, when I was a child. The ladies would tell me of it. Threaten that the three eyed raven would know if I were lying.” You looked at Bran,

“I would.” He stated plainly.

Your eyes narrowed in curiosity “Prove it.” you nearly whispered,

You looked upon you for a moment, “You were with child. Once.” Your blood ran cold. You stared at him with shocked and horrified eyes. “Forced to drink a tea to end it. You wore a blue velvet robe, it had silver flowers embroidered on the sleeves.” He spoke emotionlessly.

“I was?” You asked, your voice wavered as you ignored the rest of his statement. You need not hear anything more.

He nodded slowly “You were.”

You swallowed any emotion that rose. “Thank you.” You nodded. Now fully convinced in his ability, you knew what you had to ask him. “I need to know of my father.”

He looked at you, as if he was surprised you asked. “Littlefinger conspired with your aunt Lyssa to poison and kill your father. But you already knew that.”

You let out a huff, fighting tears, “I did.” you said softly.

“I’m sorry for what's happened to you.” He said earnestly,

“As I am for you.” You said mournfully.

He shook his head, “Don’t be. Or I’d not be what I am now.” You looked at him with concern, and confusion. But you soon understood what he meant.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Sandor and Jon’s mission was a success. However it did have its losses. Daenerys Had lost a dragon and Sandor had lost Thoros. It was hard but they captured the Wright as intended.

Sandor traveled with Jon to be sure his mission was completed and your cousin arrived safely. Soon enough he would be returning to Winterfell.

At the front of the ship Jon and Tyrion stood as they looked upon Kings Landing approaching in the distance.

“How many people live there?” Jon Asked,

“A million give or take.” Tyrion stated coldly.

“That’s more people than the entire North, crammed into that. Who would want to live that way?” Jon asked in disbelief.

“There's more work in the city. And the brothels are far superior.” Tyrion said as he scanned the other ships that had arrived for the meeting. He saw an Arryn ship in the distance. “I see Littlefinger has arrived.”

Jon shook his head, “That ship sails for Lady Arryn.” Tyrion's uncaring demeanor dropped, “The colors are inverted, it’s her claims support.” Jon stated.

“So the stories were true?” Tyrion takes a step closer to the edge of the ship to get a better look.

“Aye.” Jon said, he looked at Tyrion looking off at your ship longingly “You were betrothed to each other?” He asked, uncomfortably.

“We were.” Tyrion stated stoically,

“You loved her?” Jon questioned.

“Might have.” Tyrion said, though he knew he did.

Jon huffed, “You and the rest of the men on this ship it would seem.”

Tyrion, not knowing what he meant, looked behind him at Tormund and Sandor who looked off at your ship longing just as he was. Though all three would be equally disappointed to find out you sent a Knight to represent you rather than appear yourself.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

When in KingsLanding Sandor was in charge of transporting the Wright.

A Lannister Guard approached Sandor,

“What's in there?” The Guard questioned,

Sandor looked back at the man, surprised someone was questioning him, “Fuck off.” He said annoyingly.

Sandor then saw a tall blonde woman, the very one that almost killed him.

Brienne approached him as they walked,

“Thought you were dead.” She stated bluntly,

“Not yet. You came pretty close.” He acknowledged her ability.

“I was only trying to protect her.” Brienne tried to defend herself.

“You and me both.” Sandor sighed,

“She’s alive.” Brienne said, Sandor looking at her in surprise, “Arya.”

“Where?” He asked looking ahead, pretending not to care.

“Winterfell.”

“Who’s protecting her if you're here?” He questioned,

“The only one who needs protecting is the one that gets in her way.” She said with a smirk, shared by Sandor at the thought. Brienne then looked at Sandor once again, “As the same goes with Lady (Y/N).” He looked at her with surprise, “She’s scowled at me ever since she heard I killed you. I assumed it meant something, but I was right.” She sighed.

Sandor looked away trying to remain composed, “She alright?” He questioned,

“No. Though you don’t get names like (Y/N), the brave, the unrelenting, the unconquerable, or the Inured without suffering a great deal.” Brienne said, Sandor felt guilt wash over him again,

“What happened?” Sandor asked, still looking ahead.

“You’ll have to ask her.” Breinne said, knowing that soon he and you would meet again.

Sandor looked at her once more and smiled.

That was until the Lannister guards approached Sandor and the Box the Wright remained in.

“Anyone touches it, I’ll kill you first.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You looked out of your chamber window to see Jon Snow and his armies returning. You tried to look for Ser Leon through a voice behind you interrupted your attempt to do so.

“My Lady,” You turned around to see another knight of the Vale, you smiled and nodded for him to continue, “I am to announce the arrival of Jon Snow and Daenerys Stormborn.” He said,

“Where is Lady Sansa?” You asked, knowing she’d not be happy with the arrival of an outsider.

“Already waiting at the gates, my Lady.” He said,

“We shall join her.” You said as you continued on through the door, on your way to join your cousin.

The Knight nodded, “Yes, my Lady.” He said as he followed you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

You saw Sansa alongside Bran waiting at the Gates. You approached her,

“You don’t look happy.” You said as you locked your arm around hers.

She smiled slightly at you, “Neither do you.”

You shrugged, “I am hard to please, I suppose.” You looked out at the crowds of men entering Winterfell, “But your brother has returned with a large army for your people. That should please you.” You said as you rubbed her arm with your hand.

She sighed, “He returned with a new Queen, one I don’t know and do not trust. One who wishes to rule this very Kingdom.” She scoffed.

You shrugged again, “Yes, well I suppose that is problematic.” You said as two large dragons flew overhead.

You’d never seen anything so large and magnificent take to the sky. You smiled as you watched the three dragons fly with one another through the sky.

“Hard to please?” Sansa said looking at how taken you were by the sight.

“I’ve never seen one before, much less two. You must admit it is extraordinary.” You said without looking at her, still looking at the dragons in the sky. You finally looked at her, “A little.” you shrugged,

“A clear presentation of her power.” She said irritated.

“Well… If you got it…” You attempted to reason but she gave you a scowl that made you stop. “Apologies.” You said. As you saw your cousin ride into Winterfell, you felt it was not your place to welcome an outsider into Winterfell. Especially since you yourself were outside. “I’ll leave you to make a proper introduction.” You smiled at her, trying to get her to lighten up.

As you walked back into the castle you heard a familiar voice speak,

“(Y/N)?” Tyrion spoke, “Or, do you prefer Lady of the Vale, now?” He breathed a chuckle but he was fighting back heartbreaking emotion.

You felt the guilt you felt long ago surge again, “Tyrion. Or do you prefer Hand of the Queen?” You jested in return.

He took a step towards you, “It would seem you are acting as hand to the Queen of the north said by some.”

You shook your head, “We are kin… we are close. But that is all.”

“Two women betrothed to me who ran away.” He jested, self deprecatingly.

“Don’t feel too bad about it. We both suffered for it.” You said earnestly.

He shook his head, “I did not want you to suffer. I never did.”

“I know. I did suffer though. I still am.” You said quietly.

“You don’t have to. You don’t have to stay here.” He said walking closer to you.

“Where would I go?” You asked, as if his idea were ridiculous. His eyes however told a different story. You could see the emotion, the longing, “No.” You said recoiling from him.

He followed you, “I have loved you since I first saw you.” He pleaded

“Please don’t.” You winced at the word ‘love’.

He grabbed your hand, “I have to know where you went, and why.”

You huffed, not wanting to do this. Not wanting to have this conversation. But knowing that the truth would hurt him, it would also set him free. “I left with Sandor Clegane. He took me with the intention of delivering me to my aunt Catelyn Stark.” You said bluntly.

“Why would he take you?”

“You know why.” You said with furrowed brows, he then looked down, you could see the pain that he felt wash over his face. You sighed “I’m sorry. I am, I tried to love you in the way you wanted, the way that was demanded of me by duty and I couldn’t. I have no doubt that you would have been a doubting and loyal husband. And maybe if we were married I would have found peace. But when he asked me to leave with him I couldn’t help it, I loved him. I never felt that way for anyone.” You walked towards him once more, “You were a dear friend to me.” You held his hand, “Very dear, you gave me consideration no else did.”

“I would have given you everything- anything.” You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. Perhaps both.

“I can get it myself.” You said. Never willing to ever use your hand as a bargaining chip for land or armies again.

“That is your way, I suppose. The reason I-“

You interrupted him before he could say he loved you once more, “You wouldn’t want me. You wouldn’t, not really. I am pigheaded and my ambitions are large. We would argue all the time, every time we spoke in Kings Landing it was a debate. Neither of us would be happy.” You blurted out. Just wishing he would see it your way.

“Anything more?” He asked pained,

“No.” You said. He began to walk away, “Except that-” You called out, making him turn around towards you. He nodded wanting to hear what you had to say. You took a breath, “With him gone, Tyrion… I do not believe I will ever wed. Ever find love truly. I don’t believe I will ever carry a child in me, and I don’t believe I will ever be happy.” You shook your head.

He smiled, though clearly upset. “I think you are very wrong about that. I think you will see that very soon. And I will watch.” His smile faded and he walked away.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Later that day Podrick walked with you on the high walls of Winterfell. You and he were tasked by Lady Sansa to take further inventory of the new armies for the coming war. As you walked along the wall you heard a loud Caw! Of a Falcon. You looked to the sky and saw Lenaera. You grabbed an armored glove that laid against other supplies by the wall. She landed on your gloved hand. She fluttered her wings happily and you smiled as you pet her feathers on her head.

By chance you peered down at the courtyard to see a tall and large man staring at you. A man who thought was dead.

“Podrick?” You said, your eyes wide.

“Yes, my Lady?” Podrick asked,

“Am I dead?” You asked sincerely,

“N-no, My Lady.” Podrick responded concernedly

“Dreaming?” You asked again, bluntly.

“No, My Lady.” Podrick again responded with concern,

“You told me the Hound was dead.” You said, Podrick looked down to where you looked and saw the man standing there. Soon his eyes went wide as well.

“I thought he was.” He said shocked.

“Take Laenera.” You said placing her on his arm.

“Yes, my Lady-” He said before Lenaera’s talons dug into his leather sleeves, “Ah!” He hissed as you dropped the glove and ran into the castle.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

You gathered your skirts up as you made hast down the stairs within the castle. As you were running down the hall, you saw a tall and large man running down the same hall from the opposite end. You both stopped at the same time, as if the sight of the other paralyzed the other. You felt like you were looking at a ghost of the man you loved. Your hands released your skirts as you let out a sharp and painful breath.

He stared at you, his eyes filled with emotion, “That fucking birds yours?”

You didn’t respond, still in shock by the man before you. Sandors demeanor calmed, became more earnest, “I heard you were here. Didn’t want to let myself believe it. ‘Case it were horse shit.” He said taking some steps towards you, though he stopped when he saw the tears in your eyes well.

You let out another curt breathe as you held in your tears, a wave of emotion crashed against your form as you heard his voice for the first time in so long. “I heard you were dead.” You said walking closer to him, “I thought you were dead.” A tear fell from your eye, stepping closer “I believed you were dead.” You stopped, your emotion taking hold of you, “You were dead, I-I-” You shook your head unable to understand.

Sandor stepped towards you, closing the space that remained, “I’m not.” He held your face in his hands, you noticed they were rougher than before. “I’m here.” He said gentler than you were used to. You placed your hands on top of his that held your face. “I’m not leaving.” He continued to comfort you.

It took you a moment to realize you were somewhat out in the open. Any Lady or Lord could walk down the hall the two of you stood there. You weren’t used to that. Being in the open with your affection. He would sneak into your chambers in the early hours of the morn or the late hours of the night. Never this. But, there were no more Lannisters, no more Littlefinger, no more Bolton, there was no other person or house that would threaten your status or standing. No one to hold your virtue over your head. So, you did not care.

“You needed me.” He said assertively as if he were angry with himself.

He wiped the tear from your cheek with his thumb, You blinked hard. Swallowing your emotions and taking a breath. Grounding yourself. You nodded, “I did. But I had myself.” You placed a hand on his cheek, “But, I still need you.” You nearly whispered, You looked around for a moment, the hall was still empty but for how long? You looked to your side and noticed you and he were coincidently standing beside the door to your chambers. You held onto his wrist with one of your hands, you pulled him along. “Come inside and be alone with me.” You said in a quiet voice what some might think of a seductive voice.

As you entered your chambers, he closed your door, “Lock it.” You said not realizing how bold it seemed, “Many forget to knock on my door.” You explained as you took a pitcher of water from a table by your door, walking over to the fireplace and extinguishing the fire, to make him more comfortable.

“I can make sure they don’t forget.” He said with a possessive and protective tone.

You missed it, you hadn’t heard it in so long. You walked with haste towards him, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. He in return, wrapped his thick arms around you. He lifted you up as your lips met.

They met for the first time in so long. Your lips, as well as his, were cold from the northern air. But the heat from his tongue warmed you.

“Are you staying?” You asked breathlessly as you pulled away from his kiss. You searched his eyes, with your own. You missed his gaze dearly.

He nodded, breathless, “With you.” He said, putting you down, “I’ll go where you go.” He vowed.

“I’ve never seen you without armor.” You smiled looking over him as your hands ran over the leather top he wore.

“You have.” He said candidly

Your gazes blinked up to his, “I mean… real clothing.” You said holding back a laugh, “You look handsome.” You said earnestly.

“Fuck off.” He said dismissively, looking away from you, assuming you were lying.

You placed a hand on his scarred cheek. Redirecting his gaze back towards you. His eyes looked into yours seeing that you were honest “I missed you.” You said almost dreamily with an absent minded smile as you gazed upon the face you thought you’d never see again. Your smile faded a bit, you shook your head, “I can’t begin to… explain how terrible it was.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked down. “I know.” He was disappointed in himself, “I thought of you.” He said looking back into your eyes, “A lot.” He admitted.

As you gazed into his soft eyes, you knew he should know. He should know about the babe. He should know the things LittleFinger did. The kiss he forced on you. He should know of Ramsay, he should know of your journey. “There’s things I should tell you.” You said almost shamefully.

Sandors eyes hardened, “You fuck that ginger?” He questioned,

“Gods no!” You said with disgust, you answered quickly, surprised by the question. “His attempts at wooing me have grown constant and boring.” You rolled your eyes, then settled your gaze on him once again “I’d only ever thought of one man.” Your tone is softer.

“He said he wants make fucking babies with you.” He sneered, not angry at you but at the man. He loved you like he loved no one, and he knew he was not the only one.

“You sound jealous.” You said teasingly.

“I am.” He said with a snarl.

“You needn’t be.” You said in a whisper into his lips as you kissed him again. “Let me look at you.” You said running your hands from his face, down to his chest, “you’ve let your beard go.” You said in a melancholy tone.

All the time that had passed truly had gotten away from Sandor. It was then that the emotion hit him. Sandor dropped to his knees. Placed his hands against the small of you back, pushing you forward as he rested his head against your belly.

he was desperate,

you’d never seen him like this. You held his head in your hands, running your fingers through his hair.

“It’s alright.” You whispered, you understood how he was feeling. Feeling that he failed you.

“It’s not.” he whispered back.

“We can start again.” You said as you petted his hair, “We could be together, truly, never hiding.” You said like you were dreaming of it right then and there.

He hummed against your stomach, “I’m not a man of honor.” He said as though he were shameful of himself.

“Men of honor die all the same, I’d rather be with you.” You spoke softly as your hands sweetly ran through his hair, and your other rubbed circles against his back, “Do you not wish for me to be your wife?” You asked, scared for the answer, but needing it all the same.

He shook his head, “I wish it for me, not for you.”

You shook your head and huffed, “Look at us. this isn’t wrong. how could something that feels so good be wrong? You are no longer a piece on a board in Kings Landing. Nor am I. I don’t know about you but I refuse to be one again. Let me be yours and be mine.” You felt silly for opening yourself up like this, in a way you’d never had before. But it was something you had to do. You couldn’t allow for the same cycle you and he fell into King's Landing to continue. “When you were gone, I went to war and felt no fear. No fear because if I died I would see you. I’d be with you again. I cannot go back to wishing for moments with you. I wish for a life with you because I love you and I need you. If you love me then don’t leave me again.” You pleaded softly.

He was silenced for a moment, but then, his hands traveled tighter around your back. He looked up at you, “Be my wife.” He pleaded, his love seeping through his gruff tone.

“Yes.” You said, sweetly. You let out a small gasp as you felt his rough, large hand trail up your leg, “Yes,” you whispered to him, his eyes remaining connected to yours, his hand trailed up to your inner thigh, “Yes… yes” You continued to whispered against his movements, his fingers sneaking their way under your small clothes and toying with your sex “Yes…yes…yes-“ your whispers becoming louder, more breathless and closer to a whine. You ran fingers from his hair to his scarred cheek, you carassed it as you moaned, “My husband-Ah!” you were cut off as his finger slid inside of you, forcing a moan out of you. You grasped his scarred face harder as he did so,

“Say it again.” He rasped as he pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt.

You caught your breath as he hiked your skirts up and over his head, You could feel his beard scratching at your inner thighs, “My husban-nnnd” your voice hitched and drawn out into a moan as you felt his breathe graze across your cunt, soon feeling the heat of his tongue as it lapped up your sweetness. He sucked on your clit as his fingers found your sweet spot, pushing against your velvet walls. It had been so long since you felt someone know your body so well, and he didn't forget a thing about it. You felt the tightness in your belly finally release. As you reached your peak you cried out. Sandor drank you in groaning and fucking his fingers even deeper into you. “Sandor,” you whined, “I need, I need more.” You said with furrowed brows as you gripped onto his head beneath your skirts.

As he stood, his mouth crashed into yours. You could taste your own release on his lips. His kiss was desperate, and passionate. Making up for all the times he wished he could have done it. His hands roamed your body erratically and roughly.

He began to kiss down your jaw and neck, “I’ve missed your tongue.” you said breathlessly with a smirk and heavy eyes.

He licked up from your neck to your ear, making you moan. “Let me see you.” He spoke in your ear as he untied the back of your dress, though his large hands could hardly figure out the fragile ties.

You felt a sting of insecurity.

You looked down, as your hands aided Sandor in untying your gown. He continued to kiss and lick at your body slowly as more and more of your skin was revealed. Until you were left in your small clothes. Your scars showed, the one on your thigh, the one on your forearm, and even others that had come with time and war. Sandors eyes trailed over you, longingly.

“You don’t have to look.” You said as you looked down, somewhat ashamed of the scars you had earned valiantly. “I know I hurt to look at.”

Sandor stepped towards you, his eyes confused and bewildered. “Fuck are you on about? Feel me.” He said with furrowed brows. You looked confused for a moment until your hand trailed down from his stomach to his mounting bulge, he let out a groan. He hadn’t felt your touch in so long, and you hadn’t felt a man's body in so long, or wanted to. Your eyes snapped from his hardening, hot, and throbbing bulge that your hand caressed, to his gaze. Deeply lustful and full of longing. “Does that feel like you hurt to look at.” He asked as his hand grasped your jaw. His lips connected to your own, his facial hair tickled in a familiar and delightful way. As your mouths danced together you felt his tongue aching for the warmth of yours. To which you happily complied. You could taste yourself on his tongue, it made you all the more wet. As you did he pulled off your small clothes, practically ripping them off.

He stood there looking at your naked body, he let out a groan and you rubbed his hardened cock through his pants again.

“You’re not a woman, take your own clothes off.” You said assertively as you brushed past him laying down on your bed. He let out a dry chuckle as he obeyed your command.

You laid on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him. You bent one of your legs bringing your knee close to your chest as you pressed your slick thighs together.

He climbed on top of you. Kissing you once more. Passionately, slowly. Taking in the pleasure of your soft and plush lips, relishing in the taste that he missed so deeply. His tongue met yours in tandem as his hands ran over your body erratically. As if he couldn’t believe you were underneath him again, he didn’t know where to start with you but he knew how much he wanted all of it. His attention was soon directed to your breasts. He’d missed them dearly. Thought of them as he worked himself in the late hours of the night.

He slid down and took them in his mouth. Sucking at your breasts, biting them in just the way you liked. As he did you wrapped your legs around his hard back, and rocked your hips against his hard stomach, attempting to soothe the growing ache in your core.

The sounds of your moans created made him even harder than could bare “I can’t wait anymore, I want my woman. My wife.” His voice was dark and deep.

You nodded as he kissed your lips,

You kissed passionately, your lips swollen and wanting. As your lips met, and your tongues found one another again. You felt the head of his cock, already leaking, begin to press against your entrance. As he pushed in you felt the burn of the stretch. You almost forgot how large he was. You gasped and winced, Sandor stopped himself from moving for a moment, looking at you to see if you were alright.

You gripped onto his shoulder digging your nails into him, “It’s been a long time.” You explained.

He nodded as he brushed your hair out of your face, “Too fucking long.” He said, holding back a moan from the pure euphoria of your cunt.

“You haven't taken another?” You asked breathlessly, possibly not the best time.

He shook his head, and in return you held his face and kissed him deeply. “I want all of it.” You whispered into his ear.

He complied, happily. Pushing his cock into your until he was completely inside of you.

You muffled your moans into his neck as you clung onto his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his back. “Fuck!” He barked, “Gods you’re tight, does it hurt?” He asked.

It did, it burned, and you were almost overwhelmed. But Gods, it was perfect. You needed it, badly.

“Husband,” You pleaded into his lips, the words made his cock twitch inside of you, “fuck me.” You whined as you kissed him deeply.

As he thrusted in and out of you with the built up lust and longing he had inside of him. You bit down on his lip as he moaned out. You threw your head back, unable to hold in your moans any longer.

He took pleasure in thrusting in you harder to hear you cry out even louder. “Fuck! I missed your cunt, your sweet fucking cunt!” He grunted, he felt you clench around him harder and harder, “Give it to me!” He groaned, “I want my wife to cum.” He grunted through gritted teeth.

“Yes!” You pleaded as his pace only became more and more furious and erratic, “Ah!” You shouted as you felt yourself release a second time,

“That’s it-” He groaned as he felt your release cover his cock, making it only easier for his cock to slip in and out with ease. It made your cunt even more euphoric, he could hold himself in any longer,

“I want it inside of me,” You begged breathlessly,

“Good.” He groaned against your skin, “Cause I want to fill my wife with my seed.” He said through gritted teeth.

You kissed him deeply as he did just that. He moaned into your mouth as he spilled his hot seed inside of you deeply. Driving you towards another release you didn’t know was there.

After... You laid there, breathing. Trying to catch your breath. Sandor laid there with his head resting against your chest. Listening to your heartbeat. You ran your fingers through his hair.

You laid there in each other's arms for what felt like a lifetime. But you didn’t want it to end.

Soon Sandor spoke again, “That ginger cunt says you killed a man.” His voice was so gruff and deep it almost startled you after basking in the silence for so long.

“I did.” You said stoically.

“That makes two men you’ve killed.” He said as if he were proud.

“Five.” You corrected, he looked up at you from your chest, “Six if you’re counting the one from the riot.” You said petting his cheek,

“I am.” He said, he looked surprised by you.

“Six then.” You nodded, “Killed four men in the battle. Then I killed Ramsay.”

“How’d you do it?” He asked, genuinely interested.

“Ramsay? Hounds.” You smirked, noting the irony.

Sandor chuckled at it as well, “You’re different now.”

“Is that bad?” You asked, running your fingers down his back comfortingly.

“No.” He shook his head, “None of it would have happened if I was there.” He said as though he were disappointed in himself.

“I know.” You were confident it wouldn’t have. But it did, and it was no one's fault but those who committed the acts against you.

Sandor took your forearm, looked at the scar, Lyssa left you with.

“What happened?” He asked protectively, wanting to know who he’d have to kill.

You sighed, “It’ll be a hard thing to hear.” You said sitting up. You wrapped yourself in fur as you laid beside him once more, “You’ll be angry. Furious even. I know because I feel the same way. But this once, just feel the sorrow with me.” You asked him, he nodded.

And so you did. You told him your story. How you were attacked by Lyssa. How Baelish forced you to end your pregnancy. How he attempted to force himself on you. How he killed your aunt. How Ramsay tormented you. You told him of the Battle, you told him of Ser Cole. You told him everything.

Sandor was silent for just a moment. Until he sat up “I’ll kill hi-”

You interrupted his anger as you sat up with him. “No anger. Not here. Not our first night.” You pleaded as you held his face in your hand. Calming him.

He held onto your wrist, “I will take care of you.” He said earnestly, “I’ll protect you.” He vowed.

“You can’t. No one can.” You shook your head.

He looked at you. Saddened that you’d no longer believe in that promise. “I will.” He vowed.

You, still, unbelieving, nodded. You leaned towards him, and rested your forehead against his own.

You didn’t want to love him this much. And he didn’t want to love you this much. And yet here you both were. Your love was formidable, unrelenting, and merciless. There was not a thing in the known world you’d not do for him. And not a thing in this known world that he’d not do for you.

You had an army and now, you had your man. Now that all left to do was to go and get what you were owed.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

NOTE: It's no use (Y/N) we gotta have it out. Also you cannot tellll me that mf wouldn’t pull out the “My Wife” card every chance he got like…. That's all. Also got I feel like I am finally free and can write smut again thank god. We are about to have our own version of the royal wedding lmao K love you, xoxo

Bambi

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cresent2003 · 10 months ago

Text

Sandor Clegane x Princess! Reader (Yelena)

Smut warning.

Unedited.

============================

Moonlight illuminated the clearing Arya found after Sandor fought off bloodthirsty thieves that truly tore him apart when they all started to fight together.

Yelena had never seen anything so vicious yet after travelling with her betrothed's old guard for many moons.

She once was a pretty little thing who was around to please the king and now she fought for Sandor and Arya when they couldn't do it themselves.

There were good days and bad days yet she never ran or called for the king's guard.

She could hear the fire crackling as she washed and cleaned the many wounds Sandor had collected.

"Stay still," she said as she tried to get a little rock from the deep gash on his shoulder.

"Hurry it up and I might," he said.

"Is he going to be ok?" Arya asked.

"I believe he has survived worse than this.

At least that is what he says" Yelena said.

He growled as she dug out the rock.

"There.

Now I just need to do a second clean before stitching them" she said.

"Aye," he said as the cold wind blew through his knotted hair.

"Then can I help you?" Arya asked as she pointed at the cut on Yelena's side.

"I already burned it.

This dress is just dirty from it" she said.

"Oh come on.

I am a great Maester" Arya said.

Yelena smiled.

"It's not my fault only you are allowed to touch him," Arya said.

"Because she's bloody gentle girl," Sandor said.

"Arya it's been a long day.

Rest now" Yelena said.

"You know you're not my mother," Arya said.

Yelena looked at her.

"What?" she asked.

"You heard me," Arya said.

"Well, then I guess I will just chain you up like he would.

Be a little harsher" Yelena said before lunging at Arya playfully.

"I have a sword," Arya said.

"Yet you are still slow," Yelena said before picking Arya up.

"No.

You will not defeat me that quickly" Arya said.

Sandor watched them before smiling.

Yelena put Arya down.

"Will you rest now?" Yelena asked.

"Never," Arya said.

"Then I will just have to feed you milk from the poppy.

Knock you out" Yelena said softly.

"Fine," Arya said before walking to the tent Yelena made.

"You both are stupid," Sandor said.

Yelena walked to him.

"You are no better," she said before caressing his face.

She then started his stitches causing him to groan.

"You're upset," he said.

"I'm just tired.

Nothing to be alarmed about" she said.

"I've known you long enough to know you're a lying bitch" he said.

She smiled and shook her head.

"I guess I just let myself fall into a mindset that wasn't real," she said.

"Arya didn't mean to hurt you.

She's an annoying twat but a loyal one" he said.

"Her saying an obvious truth hit me harder than I expected.

Maybe it's the beliefs Joffrey filled me with or it's because it's what was expected from me before the whole kingdom wanted me dead" she said.

He turned around.

"You're not trying to say you want a damn babe.

Out here are you mad?" he said.

"Did I ask you for one?

I'm telling you what you wanted to hear" she said as she looked into his pretty brown eyes that held all his hidden pain.

"You want a babe?" he asked.

"I don't know honestly.

I now know trying to be a mother to Arya will only send her into a spiral" she said.

He took her hand.

"She's still getting over losing half her family.

She adores you sweet girl" he said.

She placed her head on his and shut her eyes.

She looked at her hand as his encapsulated it completely.

"How much longer must we do this?

Seeing you hurt kills me.

Seeing her upset kills me and I fear everyone outside us wants me dead" she said.

"A little longer.

Once we find a place empty and nowhere near any of the fucking royals we will stop running.

I promise you, sweet girl.

Now and always" he said.

Yelena looked at him before seeing something in his eyes that she hadn't seen before.

She took a soft breath in before looking at him with big bright eyes.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she forgot Arya was only a meter away still awake.

"You know you might be the hound to everyone else but to me you are Sandor.

My Sandor" she said.

"Don't" he said.

She kissed his cheek before gasping as his lips quickly slammed into hers.

She rushed to cling to him as she tasted the wine from earlier on his lips.

He was rough as his beard scratched her skin.

She then broke away so she could take in the fresh cold air around them.

"Arya is over there.

She will hear if we go further" she said.

"Fine.

You should get some rest.

I'll stay up first and switch with you in a few hours" he said.

She looked at him as her cunt throbbed.

She wanted to be careful so that Arya didn't have to hear something so intimate.

She placed her head on his shoulder before looking up at him.

He looked down at her.

"Fuck it," she said before kissing him.

She looked at him before straddling him.

"Still worried Arya will hear?" he asked while squeezing her waist feeling her soft curves underneath her blood-stained gown.

"Yes.

Just keep me quiet" she said before kissing his neck causing him the groan at the new sensation.

He had fucked his fair share of whores but it was always get in and get out.

No passion, no love.

He wanted to please her more than he had ever wanted to please those whores.

Yelena kissed him again as his rough hands wandered under her gown touching her soft skin.

"When's the last time you've been touched by a man?" he asked.

"Was Joffrey a man?" she asked.

"Never was," he said.

"Then no," she said.

He lifted her up easily before placing her on the ground softly before grabbing a blanket.

He placed in on the ground before placing her onto it.

"I'll be gentle," he said as he took off his armour leaving him in his trousers and tunic.

She took off her gown leaving her naked on the blanket.

The cold winds caused her nipples to harden as he looked at her as if she was the most beautiful creature to ever exist.

He climbed over her before taking off his tunic revealing his strong hairy chest.

Yelena dragged her hands down his chest as he kissed her neck forgetting his injuries.

She gasped as he bit and sucked her neck leaving dark marks that showed exactly who she belonged to.

She felt his back before grasping his bicep as he dragged his clothed cock against her dripping cunt.

He groaned at the feeling before ripping off his trousers leaving them both bare.

"Sandor," she said as she became breathless.

"I know sweet girl," he said before grasping her left breast.

He then kissed down to her pelvis before ripping her legs open.

"You're mine.

You've always been mine" he said.

"All yours.

I'm all yours Sandor" she said.

He latched onto her clit causing her to cry out in pleasure.

Joffrey Had always bedded her for his own pleasure and his own need for heirs.

This was new to her and she never wanted it to stop.

She let out a soft moan as he held her hips harshly threatening to leave bruises.

Sandor looked at her as the moonlight illuminated her body causing her to look like a goddess.

"So beautiful," he said before putting a finger inside her feeling her warm walls.

He groaned as his cock throbbed.

He wanted nothing more than to be inside her but he couldn't bear to harm her.

Sandor kept simulating her bundle of nerves in any way he could while adding a second finger and then a third a few moments after leaving her screaming out.

"That's it.

Good girl.

Let everyone nearby hear you" he said as he curled his fingers.

"Sandor I feel strange.

Oh fuck" she said softly.

"You about to cum?" he asked.

She nodded before moaning loudly.

"Do it" he said as her cunt squeezed his fingers.

She felt her abdomen grow uncomfortably tight before feeling it snap leaving her a moaning mess as she threw her head back.

"That's it.

Good girl" he praised her as he helped her through her high before removing his fingers.

She laid on the blanket as her hole clenched around nothing.

He placed his arms on either side of her head before kissing her.

She moaned as she tasted her arousal on his tongue.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes.

Please do not tease me" she said.

He lined his cock up to her entrance collecting her arousal on his tip before pushing in causing her to whimper.

It burned as she held his arm.

He kisses her jaw as she cried out softly.

"It'll only hurt for a second," he said as he looked into her eyes.

She placed her hand on his face feeling the burnt skin.

Yelena then moaned as their hips met.

She had never felt so full.

It was as if they were made for each other as he shoved his face into the crook of her neck.

She was tight and perfect.

Sandor kissed her neck before lifting up.

"You feel incredible," he said.

"You do too," she said before moaning as he began to softly thrust.

"Sandor.

Oh god," she said.

He sped up slightly causing her head to spin.

She no longer cared what Arya heard or saw.

All she could care about was Sandor.

She felt each vein on his cock as her walls squeezed around him.

"Dont do that.

Unless you want me to last a few seconds love" he said.

She let out a shaky breath as the tip of his cock kisses her cervix with each thrust.

"You still want a babe?" he asked before groaning.

"Why?" she said.

"I'll give you one.

If you want one sweet girl" he said.

"I do.

Just promise not to leave me when you get bored" she said.

"I will never be bored of you," he said before kissing her.

The kiss was more loving than before as he continued to roll his hips.

She moaned against his lips as she felt the similar tightness.

She let out a breathy moan as the pleasure got stronger and more intense.

He sped up as his thrusts became wild and out of rhythm.

"With me," she said.

He growled as she came around his cock triggering his release.

He gripped the ground beneath Yelena as he slammed into her as his cum shot deep inside her.

He lifted her hips as he stayed still.

She looked at him before pulling him down.

She kissed him before looking into her eyes.

He then pulled out of her before carrying her into the second tent.

He laid with her before holding her close as animal fur covered them.

The next morning Yelena sat in front of a freshly lit fire as she cooked a few fish from the river nearby.

Sandor walked out of the tent in his amour again before walking to her.

"When did you catch them?" he asked.

"I woke up early to surprise you and Arya," she said.

He kissed the top of her head before walking to the horses.

She looked at him before smiling.

She had never been so happy.

Yelena continued to cook it fish before calling Arya.

Arya walked out before looking at Sandot and Yelena.

"Good morning," Yelena said.

"I know you fucked" Arya said before grabbing the last fish cooking over the fire.

Yelena froze.

"I went out to get some water and saw him on top of you.

You weren't exactly quiet either" Arya said.

"Oh god," Yelena said before covering her face.

"There was water in your bloody tent," Sandor said.

"Oh.

Sorry," Arya said.

"It's fine.

If im with child you would know anyway" Yelena said.

"You realize we are on the run?

Why would you have a babe while we're on the run?" Arya said.

Yelena looked at Arya.

"Well, when a man and a woman are in love they make children.

Should I go into more detail or are you ok with that" Yelena said.

"I know that.

I'm not stupid" Arya said.

"Then why would you bring this up?

If you knew all these things you wouldn't.

People don't talk about that.

Men do but only certain men" Yelena said.

"He's one of them," Arya said.

"Fuck off," Sandor said.

"Moving on.

Arya, I will buy you something so you don't hear alright" Yelena said.

"Fine," Arya said.

They all continued eating as Arya looked at Sandor.

"When will we know if you're with child?" Arya said.

"I'll tell you when I know.

For now, eat and leave the subject be.

You didn't even notice that I hunted so you wouldn't have to" Yelena said.

"I would have preferred pig," Arya said.

Yelena threw her fish's spine at Arya.

"Shut it and eat," Yelena said.

Arya chuckled.

No matter their upbringing or social ranks they were a family and hopefully they would be inviting one more into their chaotic clan.

#sandor clegane #game of thrones #arya stark #public smut #smut #hidden feelings #mature themes #mature #maturelanguage

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antimonasia · 1 year ago

Text

Sandor Clegane x Reader Fic (Size Difference)

This is fic is not mine, but of @hightowhxre, who's blog I cannot access anymore

"𝐼 𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝑒𝓉 (𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹)"

lyrics from 'Midnight Rain' by Taylor Swift

(A/N): hello there lovely,

first of all, thank you for sending this request and I hope I was able to make good of it, as I am a bit rusty in writing smutty, but this was funny; also I hope you didn't mind that I combined this with another request I received!

“i don’t care, to me you’re perfect!” w/ sandor clegane?

(also very funny story: me at sixteen reading over and over Sansa's chapters to read about Sandor 'oh I hoe this doesn't awaken something in me'

me now at twenty-four with a thing for older men with a gruffy exterior and trauma 'oh fuck, it did').

as always: any feedback is welcomed.

WARNINGS: attempted sexual assault (not Sandor), fem! reader is mute (there are still consent checks because it is as it should be but they aren't verbal), slight mention of emotional manipulation (not Sandor), slight angst (cheating but they aren't together, so more like believed unrequited love, but it is very requited the fucker is just a self-pitying idiot), oral sex (female receiving), fingering, sex (p in v), dirty talk (and a lot of curses), slight degradation - praise kink, belly bulge and size kink.

They said that outcasts have a special nose for each other.

And maybe that was how you and the Hound ended up being so close, together.

You thought, the fact that he was dubbed the Hound, was quite ridiculous in all honesty as it made little to no sense to you to call him a dog, when he bore such little resemblance with the animal in question.

To you, he looked more like a brownish bear with his large stance and his imposing height.

And the terrible grunts he released as you met him the first time after you had been charged with the harsh and hated task of delivering to him his clean clothes.

It was almost a rite of consecration to the order of the servants at the Red Keep and you were the newest entry as you had come after the birth of princess Myrcella to help queen Cersei.

‘Knock on his door and be swift to leave the clothes or he’ll eat you alive’ some older laundry girl had scared youwhile the gentle cook that had taken you under her wing had reassured you that the Hound was all bark and no bite.

He certainly barked as you were stuck a moment too long, deep in your thoughts of that man eating small servants like.

You had promptly been awake as you shoved the clothes into his chest with enough strength – and probably surprise – to have the man back away.

‘Don’t tell me they sent a newbie’ he cursed as you lowered your head promptly ‘… don’t tell me girl that you were nervous to meet the old dog? Poor little dearie weren’t they cruel to send out such an unprepared lady?’.

You were mute – since birth – but even if you had had your voice, you wouldn’t have answered his taunting and not simply because he was indeed scary, but also because he ranked much higher than you and you didn’t intend to get into trouble with the crown who had just hired you.

‘Don’t you speak, girlie?’ his tone was growing restless as if he didn’t enjoy the lack of reaction that you were having ‘… don’t tell me that my ugliness has rendered you mute?’.

It wasn’t the taunt that got you to reply but more the tint of sadness in his tone, as if he truly believed the jest, he spoke that got you to shake your head lightly, before pushing a finger to your throat and as much as he was criticized for being nothing but a dog, he understood promptly what you meant.

‘Oh’.

His face softened for a bit, and you could look a scar on the side of his face as you thought about how painful it had been to have such a huge memory of somebody’s cruelty.

His brother had the rumors been true.

‘… a little mute girl’.

The shiver that went down your spine wasn’t out of fear as you finally diverged your eyes away from his scar the moment that he finally made you aware that he didn’t appreciate such staring.

‘… at least you won’t speak to anybody of this, will you, girl?’.

At that it took everything in you not to raise an eyebrow in annoyance at him, and even in that case you didn’t succeed fully as a small smirk appeared on his face before he closed the door right in your face, his clothes in his arms and this strange sensation that warmed your chest.

When the girls back in the laundry asked you how scared you had been of the hound, you just shook your head and fell beside Ylenia, the cook, asking whether you could help with anything, as your mind seemed broken.

And the curse of the Hound seemed to continue the following day.

And the one after.

Whenever you’d be in a room together, you felt his amber eyes onto you and the moment that you’d turn to catch him in the act, he would be looking anywhere but you. although a pensive smirk was fixed onto his lips, as if this was a game between you.

A game that came to a halt the night that you thought yourself safe enough to walk through the Red Keep.

At night.

Alone.

You hadn’t been able to sleep, something about the full moon rendering you restless and if you weren’t wrong Ylenia would be in the kitchens, so you had thought to reach them and stand by her; had you been lucky, she’d have a cup of tea for you and some stale pastry from the days before.

You had noticed them following you the moment that you had taken a particularly swift turn, and you had just prayed it had been a coincidence.

But how could the gods hear you when your voice wasn’t there?

They got closer and closer.

But so did the kitchens.

Just a few steps and you’d be…

The taller guard caught onto your arm and turned you roughly enough to make you feel ditzy while the gaunter one pinned you against the wall by your other arm and the third one, a man with a stale breath of his own pushed himself between your legs.

“We were lucky, brothers” he spoke making you want to vomit as you tried to breathe through your mouth and not your nose, not to further inhale the toxic scent of his mouth “… a pretty one, ain’t she”.

“Ain’t she the mute girl?” you fought against the grip of the man that was holding you, but it held little solution to her problem as he was stronger than you “… she won’t be screaming for us”.

“Who cares about fucking screams?!”.

The first one relented his grip onto your arm the moment that the one with the smelly breath had pushed a hand onto your chest, both to grope you and make you stay seated where they wanted you.

“… I just care whether her cunt is tight enou…”.

“I thought it’d be you, fuckers”.

The voice froze you as you thought about how cruel the gods could be.

The Hound was an impressive man in just his clothes, and he had just appeared in his full armor.

Dirtied by blood that seemed like cherry wine.

“Sandor” ‘Smelly Breath’ spoke, and it caught you off guard as you don’t think that you had heard anybody call him anything but ‘the Hound’.

And yet these were probably his friends and fellow soldiers, so it made little sense for them to be formal.

“… have you come to join the party, haven’t you”.

The thought filled you with much more dread than the thought of those three men using you for their filthy needs, but the moment that Sandor moved close to them, you realized that he had just unsheathed his sword and the grip on your arms had loosened enough for you to escape it.

‘Smelly Breath’, still, remained a problem as he pushed you back against the wall.

You moaned in pain at such an action as he hissed to you to ‘cease fucking moving’.

“We could give you the first round” the taller one who had been slowly distance himself from the scene offered, as he eyed attentively the sword in his hands “… you are the oldest among us, it’s only right…”.

“It’s only right that you leave her alone” it was final, and as close as to an order than he’d have ever come to “… get a fucking whore from one of Littlefinger’s brothels”.

“What if we want this?” ‘Smelly Breath’ seemed the head of the group and the most daring, as his fingers dug into your skin, and you were sure there’d be bruises by tomorrow.

“She is a mute”.

You tried not to scream at the obvious fact that Sandor entailed with such a phrase that you were flawed because you couldn’t speak.

“You can tell that a woman enjoys herself even when she doesn’t speak”.

“I don’t think that you have ever fucked a woman properly since you first became aware of your cock, Hitan”.

Sandor’s reprimand made Hitan’s mates laugh as the man grew purplish and his grip tightened further enough to make you hiss with no sound.

But Sandor saw the discomfort written on your face.

“Get to your fucking beds” he ordered, although you doubted that he was above any of them, although he was an impressive knight for sure “… tomorrow will fuck you up, even more if you are as shit as I remember at handling wine”.

“Don’t spoil our fun, Sandor” the man whose hands had been onto her arm spoke, although he didn’t dare to look at the bigger man in the eyes “… just because your fucking cock doesn’t get hard for pretty girls, it doesn’t mean ours don’t and it has been too long”.

“Then you’ll fucking lose that cock, tonight” and just like that his sword pointed right to the man’s little friend.

It was enough to have him back away which was as far as he’d have come with an admission of having given up.

Hitan also didn’t seem so happy to continue as he swiftly released her from his grip with one last shove against the wall and a muttered ‘fucking bitch and cockblock’.

The third one just ran after his companions.

It would have been almost comical, hadn’t you still been reeling from what had just happened.

You didn’t detach from the wall till, you felt a gentle but strong hand onto your arm and although the touch was attentive, you still answered in defense, bringing the arm to yourself, and slumping against the wall as if to become one with it.

“I won’t hurt you, girl”.

his voice was gruff, but it sounded sincere, and you strangely trusted him after he had wrestled you away from those three men, if they could be called that.

“… although I would rather be interested into knowing what the fuck you were thinking about wandering the Keep alone, at this cunt of an hour”.

You moved gently a hand in the direction of the kitchens and then mimed the act of drinking tea.

“Fucking hells” Sandor commented as he offered his hand to you – this time he made sure to hold it in front of you, so you’d see him – and gently but strongly brought you back to your feet “… you aren’t only a mute, but also a fucking idiot”.

You sent him a glare that got him at least to lower his head as he let out a laugh.

Your hands stayed joined as he escorted you back to your room.

‘Don’t fucking care if I need to lock you up, you are staying fucking inside, alright?’ it should have sounded like a threat but it wasn’t and you pushed down your heels, almost like a child at the denial of your nightly drink, but there was little resistance that you could offer to a man twice your size and with violence written all across his body ‘… fuckers would have ripped right through you’.

You grimaced at such an image and did lock yourself back into the communal room you shared with the other girls that worked with you, none the wiser to your absence as they all slept soundly through the exhaustion.

Unlike you.

It wasn’t anymore the restlessness that you had felt before mixed with the almost assault that you had just risked, but there was something that burned and hurt in the hands that Sandor had hold, so strangely delicately that it had no reason to pulse with pain.

Unless it was signaling the fact that it longed for its own match, Sandor’s own hand.

You thought that it’d have been an awful night, but then three knocks – quite in succession and not strong enough to wake up anybody but the lightest of sleepers – came and as you rushed to see whether anybody was summoning you, a small tray with a cup in it, still steaming and smelling of herbs that brought you good dreams.

Sandor was smiling in each of them.

Since that night, your relationship with Sandor had grown into a more explicit one, with him accepting only you for his tasks that required a servant and with your eyes boldly settling onto him every time you could, never getting enough of him.

The other girls that worked with you thought you stupid and a dreamer, but you knew what truly went on as Sandor sat beside you on slow days when you were summoned to his room.

It was always a small piece of parchment and a thick piece of charcoal to talk with him apart from gestures.

‘You can’t speak but you can write?’ he had first laughed as you had explained to him that had he given you a piece of paper and something to write with, you’d have been able to communicate better than through charades ‘… gods, you are fucking weird’.

The septa at the orphanage had taken pity with you and while the others chatted through the small moments of happiness, you stayed behind to learn the shape of letters; when you had told that to Sandor, he had had this strange expression on his face, sadness mixed with the violence that characterized him.

‘Lonely childhood’ he had commented as he slapped his thighs ‘… we have that in common, weirdo’.

If he was the Hound, soon people had taken to call you puppy.

And his bitch, but more secretly for Sandor had once broken the hand – and all the fingers – of a drunken man that had shot it on your face while you were serving the knights at a feast.

And it wasn’t always violence that came with Sandor, but also a wicked sense of humor and a smart intelligence that brought him to be the sole one that understood you immediately.

Maybe it was the fact that you were both outcasts that you knew each other so well.

Or maybe it was the fact that you were fated.

That night you had decided to confront this hypothesis.

You had to admit that you had been slightly drunk; queen Cersei had received a commission of wine, she didn’t particularly enjoy and sent it to the kitchens as ‘it might not be up to her tastes, but it wasn’t to be wasted’.

‘She might have poisoned it’ Ylenia had joked, making all the younger girls spit it back, as she took a swing of it ‘… oh gods, don’t be so uptight! At least if we die, we with good wine in our belly, which is much more than dying starving and exhausted!’.

To you it had just seemed like second nature to give some to Sandor, to run to his chambers with heated cheeks and a dumb smile to make him taste that precious nectar, although he probably tasted it daily as he might not be fully a knight, but he was above you.

Still, what little of good you owned, it went to Sandor.

And maybe you were indeed his puppy following him and you didn’t mind it when his eyes were onto you all too proud and swift while his cheeks flustered red.

And your own grew redder the moment that you came close to Sandor’s room, hearing exaggerated female moans but also clearly male grunts that belonged to the same man that you had been hounding desperately in those months, believing that you were special to him.

That his lack of cruelty for you meant that he held something for you.

Instead, here he was with a common whore.

The wine in the chalice you had brought to him, spilled onto your dress in your haste to go back and be consoled by Ylenia, who was kind but stern as she reminded you that:

‘Dogs were animals after all’.

That’s how you finished your dilly-dallying with a man that you by now knew that you’d never have, as you blushed thinking about how foolish you had been; from then on, your gaze never met Sandor and you switched with the other girls your turns, offering them money and your food for that task.

In a few weeks, he had gotten the hint and he left you alone.

It took much less resistance than you thought and you tried not to have it hurt as much as it felt, as you focused into your work and there was so much work with the queen’s new child’s arrival, enough that you misplaced the sole precious possession that you owned: a brass bracelet that the septa that had taught you how to read had left you after her death.

It was a little thing of no beauty but of comfort to you, and the day that you came back from a long shift, it was nowhere to be seen and while you questioned aggressively everyone about where it had gone, nobody gave you an answer, insisting that nobody would have stolen it for the little value that it had.

First you lost Sandor – not that he had ever been yours – and now the bracelet that had been your sole possession.

Gods, if you felt lost at the Keep.

Thankfully still the bracelet was just a simple object, hence it could be returned, and it was returned to you by one of the delivery boys, Jason, who brought it to you with a happy smile and received many thanks.

In all truth, he had been kind with you and asked for nothing but a walk for his gesture, one that wasn’t uncomfortable or felt particularly awful, but neither had the spark that the ones you had been on with Sandor, trailing after him as he moved faster.

Still, Jason was nice, good to you and a perfect gentleman.

All the girls in her dormitory swooned over him and he had brought you what little preciousness you held dear to her heart.

He kissed you in a hallway, a bit forceful: his hands searched beneath you dress as you felt again back to that night with the smelly breath and probing hands.

But it was Jason, he was perfect and sweet and…

‘What the fucking are you fucking doing, boy?’.

You kept your eyes closed as you thought this was a dream, as Sandor had taken onto avoiding you as you did with him, so it made no sense for him to be there.

‘… it’s a fucking hallway not a brothel’.

You tried not to be insulted by the implication as you opened your eyes to send Sandor a glare, more out habit than anything else, and realized he was there, handsome in his cloak and armor.

Even his ugly scar was a detail that you missed.

‘I and the lady were just too eager’ and although you had wanted to kiss Jason, you didn’t like his tone.

And neither did Sandor.

“The fucking lady is coming with me” and just like that he crossed over to Jason and took your hand, again, as he had done that night and again you felt that relief at being joined together “… scram off, you cunt”.

Jason looked like he wanted to fight, but what little could he do with a mountain of muscles?

Hence, he – indeed – scram off and Sandor turned to you and while you had expected him to avoid you quickly, his gaze was settled onto you heavy and angry.

“I don’t want you around that fucking idiot, anymore, alright?”.

You didn’t have your usual piece of parchment so, you couldn’t tell him that he wasn’t your father, your husband, or your master so you simply flipped him off and moved to get in the direction of where Jason had gone.

But Sandor stopped you, again.

“He isn’t fucking good for you, girlie” he spat again, as she levelled him another stare “… fucking glare all you fucking want, but hadn’t he thought your tits were pretty, he’d have sold your fucking bracelet to the first person he saw”.

Your eyes went wide open as you realized that Sandor knew something you didn’t.

And that he hadn’t meant to tell it to you, as he his eyes found the floor, almost ashamed.

You promptly tugged onto his sleeve, as if to tell him not to leave you like this.

And as much as he didn’t hold you in his heart like you did in your own, he gave you the truth.

At least you could count on him for that.

“Heard it as we rounded up a small band of thief” he commented swiftly and gruffly as he released your hand “… said he fucking stole it from one of the servant girls… the cute mute one with the…”.

He scratched his head, and you couldn’t believe that for a man that enjoyed his own whore, he couldn’t report what vulgar thing Jason had said about you.

“… he said that had he given it back to you, he might have seen…” again that loss for words, that reticence as if you hadn’t learned early on your life all the terrible shit men could spat and you mouthed the word, he was missing him, as a light dust of red appeared on his cheeks “… yes…”.

And it did hurt – not as much as Sandor’s betrayal – but it did hurt.

“Let me accompany you in your rooms” Sandor spoke almost pleadingly “… fucker might corner you again and I’d be rather happy to deck him across the face…”.

You promptly shook your head, feeling as vulnerable as fucking ever and not wishing for the company of the man that had broken you first, but as you lowered your eyes and put your face in between your shoulders, it was a rough hand that brought your chin up.

“What have I done, little girl?” he spoke as if he knew that there was something.

As if he felt it.

“You are all chatty and fucking smiley for weeks with me and then fuck off with a bastard who doesn’t deserve you”hadn’t you know against it; you’d have said that he was begging for you “... what did this old dog to make you so pissed?”.

You shook your head, turning it away from him, even though his tight grip.

“Don’t tell me that you fucking finally realized that you deserve better than me”.

It was meant to be a joke, but it held some strange lingering sadness that got you to look up at him, almost pained by what he didn’t let be said in his eyes.

And slowly you shook your head as if to get the point across.

“Well, you should fucking have” he spoke, and you hated the patronizing way in which he always seemed to know what was better for you, while he ruined himself for fucking nothing “… c’mon, let me fucking accompany you to your rooms”.

And before he knew it, you fucking took off and this time he wasn’t fast enough to grab onto you, although he did chase after you and you felt almost girlish in running fast as he ran after you weighted in his full armor, as if you were an hare running away from an hunter.

What a silly spectacle you might have made for those that might come in the empty hallway.

You were having enough fun till you were shoved onto the wall, although this time much more gently than when it had happened with the three soldiers that had cornered you late at night and you felt the deep thrill that you hadn’t felt when Jason had been kissing you so passionately, right as Sandor’s hand went to your sides to hold you in place, while his hips dug your back further into the uncomfortable brick patterns on the walls.

“What’s your fucking problem?” he spoke slurred as if he had been drinking although his breath didn’t smell in any way like ale “… you are more trouble than what you are fucking worth it”.

Was that way then he preferred whores to you?

They were easy: you paid them, you screwed them and then they were out.

“Screw you” you mouthed back at him, as you tried to – again – escape his grip.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, little shitstain” he spoke as his eyes were inevitably glued onto you, or better a specific part, your lips “… and the worst is that I don’t fucking know what to do with myself when it comes to you”.

And before you knew it, his lips had crashed onto you, with a savagery that got you thinking that Sandor wasn’t holding back.

And that you enjoyed it.

Your hands moved away and tangled loosely around his neck, while you didn’t know what it was, but you jumped up exactly the moment that Sandor’s hands moved onto your thighs, perfectly hosting you up as two circus exhibitioners who had tried this move over and over.

If you had thought that you were uncomfortable against the wall before, you had been painfully wrong, as now your breath was stolen not only by his lips but by the way his chest pressed against yours, thick metals against the soft cotton of your serving dress, not enough thick to protect you from the sensation burning into your stomach.

And still, when he retracted you tried to bring him onto you again, hissing and whining with what little expression you had left as you kept your eyes closed not wanting to wake up if this was a dream.

“Now you fucking understand what will happen if you fucking toy with me?” he spoke, breathless and it filled you with pride that you had reduced him to such a state “… I am not like fucking Jason or what the fucking… I won’t slip my fucking hand between your gowns and mess around lazily like a fucker. I’d fucking fuck you against this wall, if given the chance”.

And at that you opened your eyes, looking at Sandor with a gaze that clearly said:

‘Then, why don’t you?’.

He staggered back, almost forgetting that you came with him, surprised by the fact that your chests didn’t detach, that you didn’t fall to the ground horridly, and instead came onto him like something attached to him.

“You don’t fucking want what I can give to you, little one”.

You wished desperately for your usual piece of parchment, but when you had come after Jason, you hadn’t had it, and yet you couldn’t waste the occasion. Not when Sandor looked so conflicted.

So, you simply did what he had done to you before, pressing your lips against his with insecurity as you hadn’t kissed many and there was something different from the playful kisses you had exchanged with your friends to the one you pressed onto his lips, as it was this that would have brought the final decision.

That would have told him that you fucking wanted whatever he’d give you.

Whether it’d be his lips, his hard cock that rubbed against your stomach or his heart.

You didn’t have a specific preference, not when you wanted him as yours.

Just for one night.

You were addicted onto the promise of what he brought to you with his rugged lips and strong hands.

He detached clumsily and when he dropped you, you were sure that you had lost it, till his hands tangled with you own much more shyly than when he had kissed you so eagerly and you knew that somehow you had him.

For your own.

“I am fucking hard and it is all your fault” never any words had sound any sweeter “… fucking Seven Hells! I was about to take you against a wall…”.

And he turned to you with a smirk that sent something dark shivering down your back.

“… and you’d have let me”.

You had at least the decency to feel heat on your cheeks as he brought you along by the hand – warm and calloused – into his rooms, ascertaining himself that nobody was there before he pushed you inside and while you expected – and wanted – his hands onto you again, you were practically shoved onto the chair at the small table where he usually consumed his meals.

Papers and pen were immediately sufficed to you and while you had thought to avoid this, Sandor looked at you with enough anger to make you smirk.

“You explain yourself, alright?”.

And you had promptly written back:

‘Then are you going to fuck me?’.

It was strange to see such a huge man blush at your wording.

“You wouldn’t have all this fucking boldness if you could speak, little shit” he shot back, as he brought back the paper to you “… and maybe. You know… you kind of left me offended… thought the dog was too fucking old for you and had to chase after some of the younger fucking bitches, all yapping to you?”.

You shouldn’t have felt his jealousy that hard, but you did as a special kind of throbbing started right in between your thighs.

‘You were the first one to replace me’ and you did have a bit of shame for yourself as you added ‘… I heard you with the whore’.

And Sandor at first looked surprised and confused and then realization settled onto him, as one his hand gently threaded into your hair.

“Don’t tell me you were jealousy, pretty?” he taunted you like an idiot “… oh gods, my little silly girl…”.

‘Fuck you, Sandor’.

“It’s the opposite, sweetheart” he made you again flustered, as he lowered himself till they were face-to-face “… don’t you fucking understand that I have needs? Needs that I can’t push onto pretty little girls like you, because you’ll break”.

‘I won’t break’ you wrote back, straightening your back and raising your head but most importantly making sure to look at him as to let him know that you weren’t scared of him.

Not now, not ever.

And he looked taken aback, unable to hide the way his eyes widened before he shook his head lightly.

“We shall see” and like that he gently raised you up by the chair, holding out a hand to you “… although don’t think that you get any bonuses just because you are you”.

And your gaze seemed to almost say ‘I’d never ask for such a thing’ as your back found the bed and his lips your own.

He was strangely gentle for a man that just threatened to break you, and never like in that moment you regretted not having your voice, as you’d have moaned his name over and over every time his lips left your own, as you were worried, he’d change his mind each time he left you.

So, you only chased after him, till his hands again held you down by your sides and he had this wicked expression on his face that got you to feel the rush of adrenaline all through you.

“You were so fucking silly” he spoke as he looked at you, while your bag duck into the soft plushness of the mattress “… to be jealous of me, when we aren’t nothing for each other”.

Again, you wished to have a voice to tell him that he was mean for denying something that was very much between you, so you just levelled him a stare that said it and hoped he’d get the message.

“You are so smart” he continued as his hands gently raised through your sides to your ribcage and onto the sleeves of your dress “… too smart to fucking chase after an old dog like me”.

And just like that your dress was ripped apart and you silently screeched at the show of strength while Sandor went to lap onto all the naked skin that was revealed onto him, at first kissing it and then biting where it was the softest as you brought your hands onto your back, digging your nails in the metal of your armor.

He wasn’t as cruel as he had promised, but he was relentless.

He made sure to mark you and there was something inherently arousing in the knowledge that he could have made you take everything from him.

And you’d have gladly accepted it.

“A pity you can’t speak, although that cunt of Hitan was right” and all too soon his hands slipped into the rip of your dress to your smallclothes, lightly ghosting over your clothed mound and finding it drenched “… you can tell when you are doing a good job with a woman, even if she doesn’t scream”.

You had expected him to rip away the rest of your dress, move aside your small clothes and dive inside of you.

You had hoped, but instead his hand had gently retreated, and he had moved onto kissing you again tenderly, brushing away the hair from your face to see wholly your face, while his own was hidden beneath his locks, and you had an inkling that he enjoyed it this way.

After all, you were mostly undressed in front of him, while he was still in his armor.

The coldness of the armor felt almost like a relief on your heated skin.

“You shouldn’t fucking lust after an old dog like me” he breathed out on your lips “… but I don’t want that cunt of Jason to have you… I don’t fucking want anybody to have you but me, and I am a fucking monster for that”.

It was as close to a declaration as it came and you moved up to gently kiss Sandor, in hopes he’d hear that you didn’t think he was a monster, as you wished the same; you wanted to have him, not nameless whores for a night. You wanted him for ever.

But right now, it wasn’t a question of time.

And you’d have avoided the talk.

“Still, if this isn’t something that you want, you better fucking say it” and realizing the mistake of his words, he added “… beat onto my chest one time to tell me to continue and a second and I’ll have you sent back to your rooms, no fucking expectation”.

He waited for the second beat on his chest after your first, and when he realized it wouldn’t have come, he looked at you like you were somehow crazy and a miracle at the same time and then he raised up to kiss you, desperately and urgently.

“The beats on my chest are valid also now” he spoke as he seemed not to get enough of your lips, while you giggled against him “… one is for ‘continue fucking me, Clegane’, two is for me to stop, alright?”.

You giggled at him and nodded as you gently moved his hand onto his armor, wanting him to take it off, but he didn’t seem to listen to you as his hand dipped down into the gash on your dress and this time he didn’t simply caress you; he pushed aside the garments and swiped your own wetness for his own, making you huff and throw back your head against the pillows.

But nothing could have prepared you for when he brought your wetness to his lips and he sucked, looking at you hungrily and darkly.

“You are fucking sweet also down there” he commented, before his mouth latched onto one of your exposed nipples, and his hand went down to your garments, and onto your Venus’ mount “… fucking dogs like me are used to bones, not to fucking little girls who taste better than Arbor”.

You felt yourself grew heated in embarrassment at his bold words, and yet there wasn’t much left when his hands started to gently draw out patterns onto a part of you that you didn’t know existed but brought the most intense pleasure you had ever experience.

And Sandor, that fucker, knew it.

“… just a few rubs to your pretty pearl and you are already acting like a fucking whore” he spoke gently to your ear, although the words were cruel and they made you cry out silently “… maybe I should have been fucking you instead of those whores, you taste so wickedly and tremble so prettily”.

You cried out at the praise and your legs tightened around him, trying to keep him there and you almost choked out in pure fear as his hand moved away, brushing against your folds, before gently dipping inside.

“Can you stay without me for a few fucking minutes?” his voice was dark and not a request “… I want to fucking see whether you are as pretty down there as you are here”.

You hid your face into the crook of his shoulder and nodded, hearing Sandor smirk as he left behind a kiss on your cheek, a promise to come back, as he went lower down your body.

And you felt him, each kiss, each nip, as the tip of his finger separated her folds, and here you were exposed to him.

“Fuck” he spoke out in admiration “… the prettiest I have ever seen”.

Then something dark came onto him, as he dipped closer to where you ached the most and you closed your eyes, unable to hold such an image in your eyes.

“… and you were about to squander it with a boy that wouldn’t have gotten you to come” he spoke almost as if it was a reprimand “… fucking fucker. You don’t fucking need a boy, you need a man and although I am not the man for you, I’ll teach you fucking better”.

And just like that his tongue was covering all of yourself and you were crying out, squirming away at the sensation of him onto you, inside you and desperately against you.

“Just a lick and you are bashful?” he taunted you “… just you wait till I fuck you open on my finger, little girl”.

But he did wait before doing what he intended, and you realized that he meant to ask for your consent to have you utterly debauched and you didn’t know whether he did out of concern, or it was a power move onto you, but you still knocked against his chest one single time.

And yet, he didn’t spread you open but went to taste you as he fully removed your dress and now you were naked in front of him, a position that should have made you feel ashamed; but how could you when Sandor made you feel like a goddess at whose altar he was praying?

After all, wasn’t he on his knees, between your legs?

Although what he was doing was anything but holy.

You were surprised when you first felt his finger dip inside you and only then Sandor raised his face from his attentive work to have you loosened on his tongue to take in your expression as he seemed to check for any signs of discomfort, while he pushed inside his thick index, making you choke out softly and close your eyes.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, although it was a weird sensation you hadn’t felt before.

You felt full.

“… don’t tell me that you haven’t put your own fingers inside of yourself, little one” he cooed to you “… well, it wouldn’t matter, as they are fucking little compared to my own”.

And if those were his fingers, you couldn’t think about his cock.

His finger inside you stretched you to the point of discomfort, although his tongue kept on working circles through you, relaxing you enough that the tension of your walls moved into a more comfortable bliss as he started moving his finger in and out of you, lightly crooking it at times as if he was searching for something.

“… fucking hell, where the fuck is it?” he spoke to himself, and you pouted at him, digging your heels into his bag as a way to get him back to you, and pushing out your lips for a kiss “… I should have fucking foreseen that you were one of the fucking needy ones”.

But he did kiss you and added another finger.

Two fingers shouldn’t have been so different from one, but the stretch intensified and then fuck… he found what he was looking for.

“Does it feel good, little girl?” he taunted you, as he gently released the hold onto hat soft spot that got you seeing the stars “… don’t fucking tell me. You are drenching my hand and the sheet probably”.

He bullied that spot with an urgency that brought you to fucking screech with what little sound you had in your body, as your nails dug into what little skin you could feel through the armor.

“You are doing so well, girl” he spoke, almost cooing and although he meant to be teasing it just made you feel a whole lot better “… so pretty for me and my fucking fingers”.

And his tongue as he dipped down again, and it almost felt too much: the conjunction of his fingers and tongue brought you to feel your stomach tighten and then release slowly, oh so slowly as pleasure overcame you wholly and here you were desperately rutting against his bear as you pled with all your body for him to continue.

And to let you go.

Thankfully Sandor might be menacing but he was a giving lover and held you down as you shook a second time, wetting his beard with your juices this time and he laughed at that much to your embarrassment when he came up to kiss you.

“So shy for just a few times?” he teased her as he gently ghosted his lips over her own “… fucking virgins are always the easiest, aren’t they”.

You pounded lightly his back at that, although your legs inevitably brought him forward into you.

“Don’t tell me that you aren’t a fucking virgin” he teased again, although it had an hint of possessiveness, the slightest “… you certainly do fucking blush like one”.

Instead of further goading his teasing, you tugged against his armor, obviously asking him to take it off, but Sandor resisted you although he did move the lower part to help himself out of his breeches.

“A virgin and one that hasn’t ever seen a cock” he spat out as your eyes were so focused onto his own member, all red and veiny and deliciously big to the point that it low key scared you.

And aroused you.

Your hands moved to where he held it, and it wasn’t only pretty but also strangely silky in the touch, as it lightly twitched in your smaller hand, making Sandor curse out much to your satisfaction.

“… gods and fucking Seven Hells, don’t do that to a man” he protested, but he didn’t comment on the way you loosely started pumping him, up and down and again and again, as your instinct guided you, taking in any small expression on Sandor’s face “… oh gods, fucking… don’t make me come in your fucking hand like a shitstain on his first ride with a woman”.

You smirked at him, happy to have regained some power over him as you did detach from him but not before having lightly tightened your hold on his cock, just the softest pressure to have him hiss through his teeth, while you adjusted further on bed to allow him to sit as well.

It was only when he crowded onto you, standing on top of you with each arm by the sides of your face that you realized that it was going to happen.

That for all his talk, he was going to take you.

He was going to make you, his.

And yet, he seemed to wait, as his eyes moved onto you, his face still partially covered by his hair falling on his face to hide his scarred face and you desperately wanted to hold them back and tell him that you didn’t care, that he was perfect, scarred face, rough hands, and soft words just for you, as he waited for you to give him the one beat.

And you did so as you spread your legs for him, a bit bashful to offer yourself to him like a feast but any of his restraint broke at that and soon you felt that same smooth tip that had been in your hands moments before right against your pearl, rubbing in teasing circles.

“Just two times you have come, and you are already fucking drenching my cock” he gently bullied your hole with the type, bringing it upward and downward into you “… a man isn’t going to last long, you should know that”.

And like that he first breached you and you had to admit that the pain that you thought would have come, didn’t.

It was just a strange sensation of an intrusion not painful but not pleasurable as you opened your eyes to find a smirk on Sandor’s face as he pushed down to kiss you and pushed himself further into you.

There it started to hurt.

He was so big, and you were so fucking small.

And yet, the pain wasn’t unbearable, as he pushed himself into you to the point that you wondered just how far he could reach into you, just how far he could claim into your body as he fully sheathed into you with a grunt, his face falling onto the crook of your neck, and although he was the bigger one, you felt the control that came when your hands gently started threading through his hair.

“You are tight” no bold words to have you flustered “… indeed a fucking virgin and you are allowing me to take you. A fuckin dog, oh gods, fucking…”.

His hips dig into you and the first thrust left you breathless and immediately Sandor checked for you, almost as if he was worried for what he had done but you just smiled at him as you whined at the sensation of his cock dragging against your walls as they molded around him.

You felt yourself clench and then relax, and then do it again as his thrusts became more present, and although they were slow, you felt his strength into you.

“So good” he breathed into your neck, littering it with a few soft kisses, as he seemed lost in the pleasure and you took that exact moment to look at what your joining looked like, curious to know whether it was as good as it felt, and you were surprised by one fact.

The way your stomach bulged every time he thrusted back inside you.

Fuck, it should have been grossing you out inevitably and instead you were fascinated by the way he let his claim into you; how he bullied your body to find his way home into you.

To slip himself inside of you further and further.

Whatever pain you had left was now behind as his hips started thrusting faster and faster and you couldn’t complain, not when the hand on your pearl started to match said rhythm and soon you were overstimulated by both the sensations: the primal one of his pushes into you and the soft pleasure of his stroking.

“I am so fucking close” he seemed almost to beg you for something “… I am going to fucking come like a virgin. I’ll fucking spill into you and that cunt of Jason won’t ever try to sneak his dirty hands inside your skirts”.

Before you knew it, you were now onto your stomach as Sandor had exited you to push himself as you laid with your face down, stomach to the mattress and your ass up like a bitch in heat; you would have complained, hadn’t the angle felt much better and his hand had much more freedom, while your nipples brushed against the coarse material of his bedding bringing even more stimulation.

You were done by this the moment that you felt him press himself wholly against you, his seed spilling into you with enough force that you felt it tickle down yourself, as he didn’t make a move to detach himself from you.

Oh no, not at all, as he instead pushed you further against his weight onto the mattress, and it felt all too much as the pressure proved to be grounding while you went through the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

The moment he realized that he was crashing you – not that you minded – he pushed to the side, effectively separating himself from you and the sensation was as awful as the coldness that hit you and for a moment you thought that it’d end up like this.

After all, Sandor had made it clearly: he wasn’t interested in you past that.

And yet, a few moments after his arms came around you.

“Sleep, then we can fetch a fucking septon” and at your confusion he added “… you need one for a fucking wedding, don’t you?”.

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justagirlwholikesadam · 10 months ago

Text

Realm's Delight

A/n: Don't hate me. Enjoy -L

Warning: Death, murder, Joffrey is Joffrey, the angst is real af, suicide

Word Count: 12.8k

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Chapter 3

Losing Sandor felt like you were drowning in an abyss of loneliness, you felt like you were being stabbed in the chest multiple times with each breath you took. The servants grew worried when you locked yourself in your chambers. They knocked and asked if you needed something. You just shouted you needed to be alone. You were in bed, under the blankets with your face under the pillow when you heard one of the servants mention Sandor’s name.

“He will get her.”

“You didn’t hear. He’s Joffrey’s guard now.” The servants grew quiet and you heard them walk away from the door. You begin to ponder on what you have done to upset Sandor so much for him to leave you. Everything was going great, plans were set and you were ready to leave this wretched place. You let out a sob at the thought of your mother. She had told you men only wanted one thing from a women but Sandor was never like that. You were the first to touch him. You were the first to kiss him and you were the first to tell him that you loved him.

You had to leave your room the next day. The servants had told you that your father requested your presence for breakfast. The servants glanced at one another as you kept quiet while they helped you dress for the day and comb your hair. You felt one of them behind you finishing a braid and placed her hands on your shoulders.

“Look at you, princess. You look beautiful.” She told you. You look ahead at the mirror and look at yourself. She gave you a smile but you kept the same stoic expression. She had braided your hair and left a few strands to frame your face. They had picked out a light blue dress with white lace on the hem of the dress. You remained silent as you walked out of the room to meet your father. Entering the hall you came to a halt when you saw Joffrey sitting next to your father already eating. Your father sat at the head of the table, Robert’s dark eyes widened at the sight of you. Waving for you to come, you walked inside. You glance back at Joffrey and feel your heart drop at the sight of Sandor standing by the wall behind him. Sandor kept looking forward with a straight face.

You quickly walked to your father, leaning down to kiss his pudgy cheek. Thanking one of the male servants who pulled your chair for you, you sat on the right side of your father.

“I didn’t see you yesterday, dear.” Robert said as your plate was being served and Robert’s cup was being filled with more wine.

“Forgive me, father. I was tired from walking around King’s Landing. I mostly slept and needed much rest. I apologize for troubling you especially during these times.” You had come up with the lie yesterday and knew if you apologized enough he would brush this over.

“This war.” Robert said before taking a drank from his wine.

“This war is the last thing on my mind. You are what matters.” You tried to ignore Joffrey’s face. Joffrey’s eyes grew hard and his thin lips turned into a frown at Robert’s word.

“What’s the matter?” Robert asked when he saw how down you looked. Sandor watched the servants glancing at one another waiting for your response. Robert kept his eyes on you when you didn't respond right away. “I think I'm coming down with something. Don’t feel well.”

“Someone bring a maester.” Robert yelled at the servants. “Eat. The maids told me you haven't left your chambers yesterday.” His words were soft and you nodded looking down at the plate.

“Probably caught something from feeding those peasants. That's what you get for being so close to those animals.” Joffrey said, stabbing his fork into his food.

Before Robert could speak you answered your brother. “They are not animals. They are humans just like us.”

“You have spent so much time with them. You have gone mad. Perhaps from being very close to one.” Joffrey said with a smirk. Sandor for the first time in his life, prayed. He prayed to whatever the fuck was up in the heavens to listen to him. He hoped King Robert didn’t think there was any meaning behind Joffrey’s words. The servants and knights watched as Joffrey and you glared at each other.

“ENOUGH.” Robert shouted at Joffrey. You remained quiet thinking what he meant. Looking at Joffrey, your eyes glance up at Sandor. You wanted to cry all over again, he had his usual scowl and his eyes were hard. He couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to, he knew he would break character. He would rather be punished than have you think he didn’t love you but he couldn't have you get hurt.

“Is there a reason why you have Sandor as your guard now?” Sandor’s heart dropped to the floor at Robert’s question. “I’m sure my sister would like to answer that.” Joffrey said, trying his best to hide his smile.

You wanted to throw the plate of food at your brother’s face. You didn't know what to say. How can you tell your father that Sandor had broken your heart after being together for years. You didn't want Sandor to be punished or worse, executed for being with you. Sandor had hurt badly but you still loved him. Clearing your throat, you look over at your father. You told the lie you came up with. A lie that would change your life forever.

“I think it’s time for me to get married.” Joffrey and Robert frowned.

“I won't be able to do that. Like mother said, that d-man is always behind me.” You had refused to call Sandor a dog. You wouldn't do it even if you were angry at him for leaving you. Joffrey leans back against his chair and gives you a glare.

“I see.” Robert said looking unsure. You had to make sure your father believed you. For Sandor’s sake and yours. If Sandor didn't want you then you would leave King’s Landing.

“I will write to my betrothed in Dorne and ask if he still wants our houses to be joined.” Robert gave you a look still not believing since you fought so hard to not be married.

“This will be a good thing. Dorne's army had risen as well their weapons. Houses are sliding with your brother, father. We need the manpower. I know Dorne will keep me safe. You have done so much for me, father. Let me help you in the only way I can. I must marry.” You finished with a nod looking at Robert seriously. Joffrey was angry when Robert yelled at him but the look Robert gave you infuriated Joffrey. Robert looked proud at you.

“Spoken well, my dear. Dorne is fortunate to have a true, strong Baratheon.” Robert gave you a smile and quickly rose up saying he will write to Drone himself about this matter.

“Dog, let’s go.” Joffrey shouted, throwing his fork on the table after Robert left in a hurry to write the letter. Force of habit, you were about to yell at Joffrey for calling Sandor a dog but you remembered he wasn’t your guard anymore. Sandor isn’t your lover or your guard or your friend anymore. You look over when Sandor begins to walk behind Joffrey. Blinking the unshed tears away, you took a deep breath. You were alone at the table. You can feel the eyes of the servants behind you, waiting for your next move.

“May I have wine, please?” You asked and quickly a cup was placed in front of you. A servant came beside you and leaned forward to fill your cup.

“Thank you.” Your voice was soft as you grabbed the cup. Staring at the red liquid inside of it, you wondered why Cersei drank so much. Is this why your father drank so heavily? Both of them were unhappy with their life so they drank. No one said a word when you drank the cup completely, drank it in a hurry that it spilled from the corner of your mouth and dripped down to your dress, staining it. When you were done, you asked for another and another. They kept their silence when you stood up without touching your plate, disregarding the maester that came in. With the cup in your hand, you began to walk out of the room to your bed chambers.

Your days were spent like that. Waking up and asking for a pitcher of wine. You stayed in your room for hours, with no human contact, just your books and wines. At night, you cried yourself to sleep. Dreams of being with Sandor and nightmares of him screaming that he never did love you woke you up.

“Lord Baelish.” You greeted him when you opened the door of your chambers after you heard a knock. He stood outside your door with a smile and his hands clasped behind him.

“Princess, I haven’t seen you in days. How are you doing?”

“I’m alright.” He gives you a nod before stepping close to you.

“We should walk in the garden, princess. I have some news.” Your eyes widened and you nodded at him. Lord Baelish waited outside with the new guard appointed to you by your father. The guard was a young man, not tall as Sandor but he had a kind face. Walking side by side with Lord Baelish and the guard a few feet behind. Lord Baelish filled you in with the war. The last battle wasn’t going well for your father, he was losing men and Dorne hasn't responded yet with his letter.

“You wanted to know if the Hound was doing alright, correct?” Lord Baelish asked, looking over at you as you stopped in front of a bench.

“That is right, I care for all the servants.” You said getting close to him, you didn't want him to grow suspicious on why you were so interested in Sandor. Lord Baelish froze when you placed a hand on his chest. Playing with the buttons of his shirt, you grabbed his hand and pulled him down to sit with you on the bench.

“I care for all my friends as well.” You said as you pulled Lord Baelish’s hand on your lap. His hand were so different from Sandor. Lord Baelish hands were soft and small with no evidence that he has done manual labor in his entire life. Running your fingers over his knuckles, you wished it was Sandor. Sandor’s hands were a gift from the Seven. His hands are large, fingers are thick and rough. He had scars and calluses on his hands from working and fighting. You pressed your thighs together when you remember how big they felt inside of you. The way you drooled on them when Sandor was making love to you.

“Good princess, keep sucking on them.” You let out a deep breath and let Lord Baelish’s hand go.

“You’re far too kind, Princess. You amaze me everyday.” You look over at him with a smile. You felt bile coming up your throat at the look he gave you.

“Sandor is doing well. Joffrey and him visited the brothel last week. Sandor fucked a whore bloodily. He has become quite the beast since he started to guard your brother.”

You felt an arrow being shot in your chest by his words. Sandor was at a brothel. Sandor was sleeping with another woman who wasn't you. You wanted to cry all over again. You began to wonder if Sandor had been with anyone else when he was with you. The nights you shared your bed with him, was he sharing his with another? Did those lips you love so much were on someone else's lips?

“Lord Baelish, do forgive me. I have forgotten that my mother asked to see me before dinner. I must see her. She said it was rather important.” You rambled as you got up from the bench.

“Farewell, my dear friend.” Lord Baelish was starstruck when you placed a kiss on his chin before walking away without waiting for his response. He kept his gaze on you, watching you walk away.

“Princess, if he has done something. Tell me right now.” Your guard said when saw you in tears. He had taken his helmet off and kneel in front of you when you barged into your chambers in tears.

“I swear it. I will kill him.” You look at your guard who held a concerned look on his young face. When he was about to rise up to leave the room. You held on to his shoulder, you quickly removed your hand.

“Please don’t. Lord Baelish hasn’t done anything. He just brought me sad news.” The guard nodded before looking down at the ground.

“I’m sorry, princess. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll help you.” Wiping your tears with the back of your hand. You glance at the guard who kept his gaze on the ground below you.

“Thank you. What’s your name?” The guard looks up. “It’s Felix, princess.” You nodded at him.

“Well Felix, would you like to join me for some tea?” You asked since he was so kind to you. He rose a brow at you in shock by your invite. “Or you can have some wine or ale. Whatever your choice is, it's yours.” You added just realizing now how ridiculous it is, that a knight will drink some tea.

“Are you always this nice?” His question caught you by surprise. You noticed he was staring at you. His eyes had a pretty shade of blue, his nose and lips were thin.

“I try to be but now I’m thinking I should change that.” Felix saw how your eyes dropped down to the ground. “You shouldn’t. There’s not enough nice people in the seven kingdoms. I’m happy that I am guarding one of them.” You smiled at his words.

“Tea does sound good but I would prefer ale.” He told you as he rose up from the ground.

“Then you shall have ale, Ser Felix.”

The days went on and Ser Felix made it manageable. The servants seemed to be happy that you were talking again but once in a while they would find you staring off in the distance. Word of Sandor’s vicious attitude has gotten around the castle. Joffrey has grown to be more aggressive to the servants and to the people around him. You had refused to look at Joffrey and Sandor. It has been a few weeks and you haven’t spoken to either of them. Whenever you walked down the hallway, you kept your gaze ahead and if you happened to meet Sandor and Joffrey, you passed them like they didn’t exist. You ignored Joffrey as he taunted you while making your way with Ser Felix behind you.

Sandor kept staring at the new guard, Ser Felix was strapping a saddle on a horse. Sandor was behind a pillar as the servants came up to Ser Felix and handed him a large satchel. Sandor knew you were going to walk again, giving food out. He felt ridiculous for being jealous that you were going with the new guard instead of him. He always went with you when doing that. Sandor thought he could handle being Joffrey’s guard. He couldn't, it took all the strength in him to not strangle the prince. He had gotten used to sitting down with you and eating meals with you but Joffrey didn’t care if he ate or rested. Joffrey would call him a dog or worse snap his fingers at him and because of it. His attitude changed more, he was more angry.

He was furious that he was taken away from you. Furious that the new guard you had, is so close to you. Sandor had watched you and Ser Felix walking in the garden. You drank tea, while your guard drank a cup of ale. He kept updates on you, your servants were kind enough to fill him in. He felt horrible when they told him you barely ate and you weren't yourself but you were getting better now with Ser Felix. News of the prince of Drone arriving at King’s Landing had broken him. He was drinking in his new chambers that Joffrey provided him. It was half of a room now and the bed was uncomfortable. Sandor knows the prince will wed you and will take you away from here. Away from him. Joffrey had taken him to a whorehouse to celebrate the prince coming to take you away. Joffrey did it to hurt him and it did. “Go find yourself a new bitch, dog.”

Sandor obeyed him and grabbed the nearest girl from her wrist. He didn’t look at her or asked her for her name. Sandor ignored the girl who was sitting on the bed waiting for him but he sat by the corner of the room with a cup of ale. The girl grew worried when Sandor didn’t move from his spot, he just kept staring at the ground as he drank. After an hour had passed and the girl flinched when Sandor finally rose up from his chair. The pitcher near him was empty and the sun was setting. He walked towards the bed and threw two silver coins near her.

“If they ask you, tell them I fucked you bloody. You hear me, girl? If you don’t say that. I’ll fucking kill you.” Sandor snapped at her and she nodded at him.

There was a relieved look on her face when she realized Sandor was really not going to do anything to her. He was about to walk out the room when he froze and grabbed a dragger from his belt. The girl let out a whimper when Sandor raised the dragger. She saw Sandor slicing the bottom edge of his palm, just enough for him to bleed. She flinched when Sandor walked towards her and yelped when he pushed her back and lifted her skirt. She felt him wipe his blood on inner thighs. She pushed herself up when Sandor left the room without saying another word. Sandor walked out of the whorehouse and saw Joffrey had waited for him outside the establishment, in a carriage. He brought the window down and had a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Sandor wanted to roll his eyes. Joffrey still hadn’t gotten used to the smell of the shit city.

“How was your new bitch?” Joffrey asked as Sandor walked closer to him. “Tight.” Sandor answered as he signaled Stranger to come forward. He just wanted to go back to his room and be alone. He wanted to sleep because at least he’s with you in his dreams.

Sandor watched as the new guard gave you a smile as you walked towards him, you were ready for the day. You had a light brown dress on. He left when you began to walk with the new guard. Trying to ignore the horrible gut feeling in his stomach. Few hours later he stood behind Joffrey as the prince was with his father in a council meeting. Robert was in the middle of talking when the door opened with a bang. One of the king's guards came running inside. Robert was about to yell at the guard when the guard announced something that turned Sandor’s blood cold.

“There was a riot, your grace. The princess was giving them food when it broke out. We found her guard, he’s been killed. Ripped limb from limb. We can’t find the princess.”

Robert rose from his seat and began to yell for every knight to search the city. “I want every house, every building searched.” He screamed as Marcella and Tommen were being comforted by Cersei.

“Stay here, dog.” Joffrey commanded him after Robert said every available knight must go. “My pri-“ “Stay put!” Joffrey yelled at Sandor cutting hm off as he looked out the balcony.

Sandor could hear the screams of the people as the knights barged into their homes. Flipping it inside out then leaving for the next spot. He knew the feeling in his gut was right, something bad did happened. His eyes widened when he saw Jamie Lannister and his group walking up the hill. Jamie was carrying you. You laid unconscious in his arms. Jamie had found you after an older woman and her daughter saved you and hid you in their house. Sandor stared at the woman and her daughter as they were brought into question. They stood in the middle of the court and explained Robert what had happened. Sandor looked down to see the daughter’s feet. She wore your shoes that you had gifted her.

“It’s the war, your grace. With barely enough food going around, they became crazy. Everything was going well. The princess was handling food when the people from flea bottom started to cut the line.”

The woman started to tear up as she continued. “She tried her best to calm them. She didn’t want the children to get hurt. They ignored her and took her guard. She tried to help him.”

“She cried out to them to stop as they began to beat him and started to pull his limbs.” The woman let out a deep breath. Her daughter rubbed her back for comfort.

“That’s when the riot broke out. The city split into two. Many tried to protect her, we love her, your grace” Robert stared at the woman below him as she confessed their love for you.

“We love the Princess. Is she alright? We are all worried for her.” The woman began to cry loudly as she fell on her knees in front of the court.

Sandor snuck into your bed chamber in the middle of the night when you haven’t woken up in two days. Robert usually left at night after spending his morning and afternoon in your room. Something changed in the drunken king after the incident with you. Robert punished the flea bottom for it, he gave rewards to anyone who knew who started the riot. Sandor shuts the door behind him carefully making his way towards you. He can hear your soft breathing. He freezes at the sight of you. You’re laying on your bed with your hands resting top on your stomach. He can see bruising on the right side of your face, they have washed you and clothed you in a nightgown. He couldn’t get rid of the sight of the light brown dress you had on earlier that day you left. It was bloody and caked with shit and dirt from the streets when they found you.

Sandor whispers your name. He knew he shouldn’t be in your room. He shouldn’t have come here but it was killing him not seeing you. Even if you weren’t speaking to him, he at least got to see you but now since you've been hurt. He hadn’t seen you at all. Sandor touches your hand, he brings one of your hands up to his lips. Kissing it and nuzzling into your palm as he leans down. He starts to breathe heavily as he cups his face with your hand.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers as he stares down at you. Your hand falls limp and he brings it back to his face, using his other hand to keep your hand in place. Knowing the maesters should be making their rounds soon. He leans down, close to your face. The bed dips under his weight. He says your name once more and kisses you on the lips. Sandor whines as he kisses you once more. Savoring it, since it will be the last time. He hoped you would wake up in time to get healed before the prince from Dorne arrived.

“I love you.” He whispered against your lips. Pouring everything he had left to give, he kissed you for the last time. He blinked the tears away and walked away from the bed. He gives you one last look over his shoulder before he leaves and continues to pretend that he doesn't love you. You woke up the next day and found your father sitting next to you. He had hugged you and kissed your forehead calling the maesters to come and check up on you. Your servants stood outside your chambers when Robert told you about the news of Ser Felix.

They cover their mouth with their hands to stop themselves from crying when they hear your cries. You let out a sob after learning what happened to him. You cried in your father’s arms at the horrible news of Ser Felix's death. Robert had you tell him everything from your point of view. He was happy when your story matched the same one from the woman. Robert had forbidden you to go back to the city, he had grown close to you as the days passed and it only made Joffrey more angry to the point that Sandor had witnessed Joffrey being the true monster he is. Sandor stood outside of the prince's chambers as the prince laughed loudly while he shot a whore in the leg with his bow and arrow. Sandor disposed of the body the next day and pretended nothing happened just like Joffrey did. Sandor only saw you when the family sat together eating dinner. It was the only time when Robert wanted to be seated together. Cersei and Joffrey had gotten annoyed at the fact that Robert wanted you close to him. Sandor watched as you barely ate but you drank more and more each day. You never looked up from your plate only when your father spoke to you. He can see the fake smile you gave everyone including the servants.

You gave the same fake smile when you were told the prince is making his way up to King’s landing.

The castle was going crazy the following day for the arrival of the Prince from Dorne. All morning your servants waited on you, they washed you, clothed you into one of the finest dresses you were gifted. You allowed them to place a diamond necklace around your neck as they rubbed oil on your arms and legs, you tried your best to be excited like they were but you just couldn't. You tried your best to be in a good mood but nothing was working. You had nightmares every night since you woke up. Your dreams would be flooded with the sight of Ser Felix being ripped apart, you started to imagine his screams and the sound of his flesh being torn. You can still recall the pushes and the slaps you received when you tried to break the riot apart. You had called out for Sandor, you screamed his name as the riot broke out. Thinking about it now, you felt ridiculous for shouting his name.

You felt nothing even when the prince walked towards you when you entered the great hall. It was dinner and he was the first to rise up from his seat. He was tall, had brown curls on top of his head and his eyes matched his hair color. His skin was tan and it went well with the yellow mustard robe he wore. You gave him a smile as he introduced himself, while grabbing a hold of your hand. He leans down to kiss your knuckles and you glanced behind him.

Catching Sandor’s gaze across the room, he quickly looked away and you did the same. The prince's name was Lewyn, second of his name. He sat across from you and you had to admit. He was very handsome. Speaking with Lewyn had eased your worry of not liking your husband to be. He was kind and respectful. You were surprised when he gave you his condolences about your guard, Ser Felix. Walking around the garden, he told you that he knew about the incident that had occurred. You immediately thought, he wouldn't want to join houses because of it. Your mother had screamed up a storm, telling you to stop with this excessive idea of helping the poor.

“To be honest, I thought the stories about you were lies.” He said and you froze next to him. He turned to face you.

“The most kind and beautiful princess to have ever lived.” You blushed hard at his words. “The stories are true and I'm happy because of it. I need a good and kind woman by my side.” For a moment you had forgotten all about what happened the last few months as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. His lips were soft and he smelled like the sun and spices.

A celebration was in order according to Robert, House Baratheon and House Martell will be joining together. Robert had deemed that the celebration of your engagement will be the largest celebration the Seven Kingdoms will ever witness. The days passed and everyone was preparing for the celebration. The castle was being cleaned and decorated. Everyone who your father invited was coming to King's Landing. You greeted the Starks, Arryn, Greyjoy, Mormont, Tarly, Tyrell, Glover and more as they came to the celebration. Everything was overwhelming but you were grateful for Lewyn. As the days passed you grew closer to him, he never left you unattended. Walks around the gardens and eating meals together. He showed you books he had brought you about his home. The time you had a moment for yourself was at night. You stayed up staring at the ceiling as you thought about Sandor.

You haven't seen Sandor as Joffrey was doing god knows what. You touched your lips as you remembered the dream you had. You had dreamt that Sandor had come to your room in the middle of the night and kissed you. The dream felt so real, he kissed you and told you he had loved you. Shutting your eyes you traced your lips with your fingers as you placed the other hand on your chest. You can recall his smell and his warmth. You imagine Sandor between your legs. You cupped your breasts, imagining it was Sandor’s large hands. You let out a whine as you pulled your nipple over your nightgown as you remembered the last time you were intimate with him. Your cunt clenched around the nothingness as you remembered his cock going in and out of you. Taking your hand from your lips, you bring it under the covers and under your nightgown. You moaned when you touched your clit, you whispered his name as you remembered how good his fingers felt, how good his tongue felt on your cunt.

“Sandor!” You cry out as you slip your finger inside of you.

The night ended and the sun rose, it was the morning of the celebration. The official announcement of your engagement. Robert wanted you to have this since your wedding will be held in Drone. Lewyn wished for you to be married in his home and you accepted it. You knew you couldn’t get married in the same room with Sandor. You were woken a bit later by your servants who came inside your chambers to get you ready. The morning seems like a blur to you, you allowed them to fawn over you. While they dressed you one of the servants gave you a note from Prince Lewyn. His words made you smile but you felt nothing. He wished you a good morrow and he will count the seconds until he gets to see you again.

“This seems a bit too much.” You said as you stood in front of the door of the great hall while looking at the decorations hanging by the door. You were unaware of your uncles behind you. Jamie who stood with Tyrion just smiled at you.

“Is that so?” Tyrion said as he stepped near you. He was dressed in red and golden robe while Jamie wore his golden armor. Giving a warm smile to your uncles, he asked you to kneel down. You tried your best with the dress you had on.

“You’re not like us, child.” You frowned and he continued. “I'm so happy you aren't. You're different and I pray that you will live a happy life in Drone.”

“You think I will live a happy life?” You asked him and he nodded. You don't believe him as you stood up with the help of Jamie who lent you his arm.

“Your husband-to-be, shall be standing near your father. Just walk towards the throne.” Jamie said as the servants came in to fix the train of your dress. Jamie kissed you on the cheek and wished you good fortune.

They handed you a bouquet of flowers as you heard the music start to play. The guards opened the doors and you looked ahead. Everyone's eyes were on you as you walked to the throne. Your hands shook but you continued on. You can see Eddard Stark along with his wife standing. They gave you a nod as the guards announced your name. Lewyn stood below the steps of the throne where your father sat. He smiled when you made eye contact with him. He was dressed in beautiful silver and white dress robes. It matched with your dress. He gives you his arm and helps you walk up the steps.

“You're absolutely breathtaking.” He whispered to you as both of you stood in front of your father.

Sandor watched with a heavy heart as you walked to your husband-to-be. The gown trailed behind you and the diamond necklace around your neck shined with every step you took. The guards and servants whispered amongst themselves about your appearance, calling you an angel. Robert made a speech about the houses joining together, you tried to look at the prince but your eyes wanted to look over at your family side, for you hoped to see Sandor. Lewyn leaned towards you to whisper in your ear after Robert’s speech.

“Your father mentioned to me that you are close with the people of King’s Landing. He didn't want you walking around anymore. I was able to do something since this will be their last chance to see you.” Lewyn said as he held your hand and walked with you down the hall.

Walking to the front doors of the castle, he gently squeezed your hand as he waved the guards to open the doors of the castle. The moment the doors opened you can hear cheering and your name being shout. You let go of his hand as you walked forward seeing the people of King’s Landing standing out of the castle. Knights were lined up as a wall, keeping the large crowd back. The people in King's Landing grew silent when you stepped closer to them. They haven’t seen you in weeks after the riot, they stood staring at you in complete awe by the way you’re dressed. A smile appeared on your face and you chuckled in shock at the amount of people who showed up. You waved at them and the silence disappear, they cheered loudly as you waved at them. They shouted the word princess over and over again as they waved their hands and arms. They threw flowers at your feet. Robert stood behind you as he watched in disbelief by how much the people loved you but that's why you were called the Realm's Delight.

It soon changed when the crowd started to push the knights back trying to get closer to you. There was a shout and the knights a few feet in front of you fell back, the crowd pushed forward. Robert yelled at the knights to keep formation.

“PRINCESS!” You gasped when people started to run towards you. Robert pushed you behind as Jamie started to run towards the crowd. One man had managed to go under the knights and threw himself at your feet. Leywen gathered you in his arms pulling you back, you almost tripped on the train of your dress. The man was about to touch your dress when there was a rough growl and a tall frame came between you and the man.

You watched as Sandor grabbed the man from the back of his shirt. Growling at his face, Sandor gave him a glare. “You dare to touch her.” Sandor snapped as he grabbed a hold of the man’s neck, pulling him up. The servants and the Lords and ladies gasped.

“Sandor! Please! Stop it. Don’t hurt him.” You shouted, pushing yourself away from Leywen, reaching for Sandor’s arm. Sandor drops the man when he feels you grab a hold of his arm. He looks at you and takes a step back. The man is gasping for air on the floor.

“Y/n!” Cersei shouted pushing the ladies out of her way when she saw you leaning over the gasping man.

“Are you alright?” You asked as you helped the man who still on his knees. You ignored the muttering behind you from the lords and ladies when you offered your hand to him, a commoner.

“Get away from him.” Cersei forcefully pulled you back making you wince from her gripped.

“Throw him away!” Cersei shouted at Sandor. He glances over at you for a second, taking in your facial expression. He looked away when Leywen walked in front of you. The prince looked over at you, taking your face in his hands.

It was two days after the celebration when Sandor was told of the news of the war. Robert’s brother was going to attack soon again. One of Lord Varys’ spies had found out and Robert was getting ready. Sandor stood behind Joffrey when he received the news that Joffrey will be joining them as well. The blonde looked shocked by it.

‘What do you mean?” Joffrey asked as Robert grabbed his sword.

“You're heir to the throne and you haven't fought once in battle. Do you want to sit this out and add more fuel to what the people are saying?” Joffrey glared at his father.

“I don't care what they have to say about me. I am heir to the iron throne and I can send men in my place.” Robert walked close to him and signaled Sandor to leave the room. He bowed and obeyed, he stood behind the door as Robert yelled at Joffrey.

The rumors after your celebration had spread throughout the entire kingdom. A rumor that had the council worry. Sandor decided to walk to the armory of the castle. Knowing since Joffrey was going to go, he will have too as well. Sandor isn't afraid of war, he has been in them since he was kid. He looked at the swords and the shields hanging on the walls.

“Sandor.” He turns when he hears you behind him. You were standing by the entrance. He looks away from you. “Have I angered you so much that you won't even look at me?” Sandor doesn't know what to say.

“I'm truly sorry for whatever I have done. I'm sorry.” He made no response because you were going to leave soon. The prince from Drone had gone back home to start preparing for your arrival and the wedding. You looked happy with the prince, he couldn't take that away from you. Not after he broke you, he tells himself.

“At least look at me before I leave. I wish to see you one more time.” Sandor shuts his eyes when he feels your hand on his arm. He turns to you and looks down at you. He won't say anything but he will look at you, giving you your last wish before you leave.

“I want to hate you.” Sandor’s eyes shot open at your words. You gave him a face and repeated it again.

“I want to hate you. I should hate you.” You cried out slapping his chest with all your might.

“Hate me then.” Sandor said, grabbing a hold of your wrists and holding them.

“You’re a fucking coward, you know that.” You hissed at him trying to pull away from him but he kept his grip on you tight. Sandor laughs at your face, “Coward, you say.”

“The coward is your fucking brother.” Sandor said, making you shake your head.

“He isn't my brother. He's my half brother. I'm nothing like him.” You snapped at him and Sandor pushed you against the wall. He released your wrists and caged you with his arms.

“You aren't.” Sandor whispered as he stared at you. You don't flinch when he brings his hand to touch your cheek.

“You ain't nothing like them. Not like your mother who fucks her brother. Not like your devil of a brother. You're kind. You're good, so good.” You held on to his arms as he touched your cheek, you missed his touch.

“You bring that good to Drone, you hear me. Don’t fucking change.” Sandor tells you softly, making you frown. “I don't want to go to Drone. I want to stay here with you. You made me do this. You made me do it. I did it for you so you wouldn't get punished.” Sandor steps away from you and you quickly go to the entrance, blocking his path.

“I did it for you because I love you, Sandor Clegane. We still have a chance. We can still run away.” Sandor looks at you with hope for a second.

“I have to get ready for the battle. I'm going with your brother.” You looked so distraught by this news.

“Leave with me, please. Right now.” Sandor shook his head at you. “If I leave before the battle, they will know. They will look for me. Joffrey will have my head.”

“Joffrey has never gone to any battle before. I don't even think he knows how to swing a sword. Why is he even going?” You asked and Sandor looks at you with furrowed brows.

“You don't know?” He asked you. “I would have thought Little Finger would have told you already.”

“Told me what?” Sandor stared at you. “The people want you to be their queen. Not your bastard brother.” You stared at him shocked.

“I don't understand. The realm will never accept a woman on the throne.” You told him, making him shake his head.

“That was before, now they would rather have you on it. They want you. They have started calling you the rightful heir to the throne. You have done more than Joffrey. Your father is taking him tomorrow to the battle so the people in the realm can see him.” Sandor told you.

“That day..” Sandor stops in mid and grabs your hand with his. “You should have seen them. Robert saw they loved you but he didn't realize how much. Then you gave your hand out to that man, to help him. A princess helping a commoner. The street started to shout your name and they called you the true heir. The rumor that Cersei and Jamie tried so hard to cover has exploded. The people started to shout bastard at the sight of Joffrey.”

“My father doesn't believe them, though?” You asked. “ I don't know. The council suggested for him to take Joffrey. He has to do this because half of the army is on your side now.” You frowned.

“They will serve for the true heir of the throne. A true Baratheon.”

Sandor felt you grasp his hand and pull him closer to you. “After the battle then? I thought I could go to Drone without you but I can't. My heart refuses to leave you behind.”

“I won’t watch you marry him.” Sandor said, making you chuckle. “I'm not marrying him. The moment I'm on the road I'm escaping.”

Sandor frowned as you told him your plan to escape. “You're crazy. You won't survive by yourself.”

“I only need to survive until I make it 100 miles from Winterfell. Eddard Stark has granted me safe haven until I figure out where to go.”

“You believe him?” Sandor shouts in disbelief. “He knows of us.” Sandor is left speechless.

“After the celebration, I was walking in the gardens. I never felt more alone that day. He found me crying, we spoke about what happened with the crowd and it just slipped out. He swore to me he wouldn't say a word. All I have to do is send a raven and he has promised to meet me halfway to escort me back to Winterfell.”

‘If it's a trap?” Sandor asked angrily. “I don't care. As long as I'm with you.” You answered him.

“I’ll leave you now. My offer still stands. You will make me the happiest woman if you do come with me, I’ll wait after the battle. I don't know what I have done to you. What I have said but I'm sorry and I love you. I will always love you, Sandor. If this was all just a ruse so you can get your dick wet then enjoy your whore and farewell.”

Sandor screamed at himself as he watched you walk away. He wanted to run after you. His feet remained glued to the floor. ‘Whore?’ he asked himself. ‘What whore?’ You were the last person he's been with, your lips were the last he has kissed. Sandor manages to break free and begins to walk out of the room and down the hallway. He looks both ways in hope to see you. He's about to walk to your chambers when he hears Joffrey behind him, coming to a halt he turns to see the prince.

“Father, has lost his mind, Dog! He wants us to go tonight. Says I need the experience.” Sandor watches as Joffrey walks towards him with a frown.

“All because of my bitch sister!” Joffrey yelled. Sandor’s jaw clenched. “This is all because of her. I hate her.”

“The realm wants a whore who fucks second born sons sitting on the throne.” Joffrey spawned out with hatred.

Sandor's body has been acting on its own. First holding his feet froze as you left and now his hand is resting on the hilt of his sword. He stared at Joffrey as he tightened his grip on it while Joffrey kept calling you a whore. With one swing, he can kill Joffrey and go to your room. Both of you could run away, go to Winterfell then go to Braavos. He will be free and tell you everything. He will tell you everything and he will be happy.

Sandor wants to be happy with you.

“Prince Joffrey!” Sandor drops his hand when Jamie comes walking towards them. “Your horse is ready. We leave now. Your father is waiting for you.” Jamie told him.

“Very well.” Joffrey answers and signals Sandor to come with him.

You were looking out the window when you saw your father walking to the stable. You frown when you see the knights do the same. You thought they would leaving tomorrow. You ran out of your chambers and searched for your servants. You found her looking out the balcony outside of your chambers.

“What's happening?” You asked her and she told you Robert decided to get to the field early so they can have an advantage.

“The rest of the army will join them at morrow.” She said before walking you back to your chambers. You drank tea that night, trying to ease the unwell feeling in your stomach. You paid no mind to it, you had to get ready to leave. You couldn't sleep that night, the thought of Sandor on the field with your half-brother. Knowing Joffrey, he would make Sandor protect him while he hides away. Packing a light bag the next morning, you grabbed the letter to Eddard Stark. Quickly walking out, you noticed your servants and the guards down the hallway were gone. How strange, it was.

Out of breath from running, you watched as the raven flew with the letter attached to its leg. You prayed it would make it in time. Walking out of the room, you heard yelling. Making your way to the kitchen, you saw the cooks huddle together as they looked out the door.

“What's going on?” You asked and they yelped in surprise. They greeted you with a small bow.

“Tell me at once, what's happening?” You asked worriedly.

“It's the other knights princess. They don't want to go! They refuse to fight with your bastard brother.” One of the cooks gasped when she let out the word bastard.

“Forgive me, pri-” You cut her off by shaking your head. “I know, I know all about it.” You told them, making their eyes widen.

“It's true.” You said with a nod. “But my father still needs them to win this war.” You said pushing the cooks out of the way with the small bag over your shoulder.

You can hear them shouting for you to come back. Making your way to the stable, you saw the stable boy. You begged him to prepare a horse for you, you were in dire need to get to the rest of the knights who were refusing to go and fight. The stable boy and the cooks watched as you began to ride to the front gates of King’s Landing.

You saw the golden armor of the King’s guard, it was Jamie second in command. He was arguing with one of the knights as they stayed still. The moment they saw you, they froze. “Princess,” the second in command bowed.

“Why haven't they moved? The battle can be happening now and my father and Sa-” You stopped yourself, you were going to say Sandor’s name. They couldn't know why you were doing this.

“We won't fight with that bastard Joffrey.'' One of the knights yelled and the rest cheered. “How dare you call the heir to the throne a bastard!” Jamie’s second in command yelled.

“He’s right.” You said and he looked over at you, shocked by what you said. You would have to tell them the truth. It was the only way to help Sandor and your father. Without them, you fear the war will be lost. Gripping the reins of the horse tightly, you took a deep breath and looked over at the knights ahead of you.

“You are all right!” You yelled with all your might.

“Joffrey is a bastard. His father is Jaime Lannister. You won’t fight for him but I beg you to fight for me. Fight for me!” You cried out.

“And when we win this war against Stannis, I will speak with my father. If what you say is true, you want me to be your queen. I’ll do it! I’ll be your queen and I'll rule the seven kingdoms with fairness and with just. You will no longer be hungry, no longer shall you worry about how to survive because I will be your queen. A true Baratheon will sit on the Iron Throne. Will you fight this war for me?!”

You let out a deep breath when they shouted amongst themselves.

“FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!! FOR THE FUTURE QUEEN!”

Jamie’s second in command was astounded as the knights began to get on their horses. “Will you stand by my side as we bring them to my father?” You asked him with hope he will accept.

He nodded at you. “For our future Queen.”

Sandor felt like he was sinking under water and his head was ringing. He didn’t see that knight coming at him. Too busy keeping Joffrey safe. His helmet was long gone, he used it to break someone's jaw when he dropped his sword.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Robert’s army should’ve been here. Stannies had decided to attack the moment they saw Robert’s army coming at dawn. Sandor felt Joffrey behind him. Jamie had shouted for the rest of the remaining king’s guard to hold their post.

“Dog!” Joffrey’s voice echoed in his mind.

He felt Joffrey hitting Sandor’s on the back. Sandor looked over his shoulder and grabbed Joffrey’s Valyrian steel sword from his hand and swung it across the man near him. Joffrey's mouth dropped open when Sandor completely decapitated the man’s head in one single blow.

“JOFFREY!” Jamie yelled. Sandor watched his back as Jamie yelled at Joffrey to go back to base. They had to retreat, they were losing men by the minute.

“Where’s your father?” Sandor growled as he looked ahead, ready for anyone to get near with Joffrey’s sword in his hand. “I don’t know. You keep this.” Jamie said, handling Joffrey a dagger.

“I’m not going back.” Joffrey hissed at his uncle. Jamie frowned, “There are not enough men. We have to retreat.”

“Take him with you.” Sandor snapped at Jamie as a group of men started to head towards them. Jamie grabbed Joffrey by the neck ignoring his shouts to release him.

Sandor can hear the galloping behind him. Sandor let out a deep breath as he relaxed his nervousness. Sandor Clegane was nervous, he didn’t think he would survive this time. The cut on his arm hurts like a bitch. His head is ringing, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of you on a horse, the horse is standing on the far edge of a cliff across the field.

Sandor was so busy looking at you, he didn’t see the man coming at him. Before he could see the man, a horse passed him, taking the man down. The rider had stabbed the man in the head.

“Clegane.” Robert shouted as he rode towards him. Robert had just saved him.

Before he could answer, there was a horn that caused them to stop for a second. Robert had sweat dripping down his forehead, blood of his enemies was dripping down his armor. He looks across the field and his dark eyes widened when he saw the other half of his army riding in. There was hope that they would win this war. In the corner of his eyes, he saw two horses standing by the cliff. He saw it was the second in command of the King’s guard and you. You’re on a white horse, staring down at the field. A smile appeared on his tired face, you, his daughter had brought his knights to him.

They won the war because of you. Robert and his men rode back to base. He frowned when he saw Joffrey's horse standing by the King's tent.

“Where’s my son?!” He shouted. Robert noticed the angry look on the knights' faces when Joffrey walked out of the tent. Joffrey stood still when he saw Robert getting off his horse and walking towards him.

“Where were you? You hid?” Robert shouted. Joffrey glared about to say something when they heard the rest coming. Joffrey was seething when he saw you riding first into base with the second in command. The army you brought rode behind you.

Robert watched as you rode near him. Without a single thought, Robert helped you get down off of your horse. The knights around you stood up from their seats.

“I had to do it. It was the only way for them to come.” You whispered to Robert, looking at Joffrey by the tent.

“Do what?” Robert asked, cupping your face.

“They came here because they fought for me, father. I must tell you something and you have to believe me. Please, let’s go inside.” You said grabbing your father’s hand and tugging him to the tent.

“What are you doing here?” Joffrey yelled as he walked towards you. “This has nothing to do with you.” You said taking a step back when you saw the craziness in his eyes.

“Father-.” “Pleas-.”

Robert hushed both of you as the knights began to shout amongst themselves. “Go inside. I’ll be back to discuss this matter.” Robert tells you before walking to the group of knights.

You passed Joffrey and walked into the tent. “You just had to be here.”

You ignored Joffrey and stood at the far end of the tent. “Just because you brought the rest of the army, you think you’re better than me?” Joffrey asked as he came to the table where the maps were laid out.

“You’re nothing, sister. I count the days where you leave for Drone. I pray to the gods you get sick on your travels and die.” You look at Joffrey.

“Fuck you.” You spat at him and there was a look of pure anger in his eyes. It scared you because you never saw him like this.

“He’s dead, you know.” Joffrey said, walking around the table trying to get closer to you.

“What?” Joffrey nods at you with a smile. “I saw that fucking dog you love so much go down. The sword was rammed in his chest.” You felt your chest tighten by Joffrey’s words. You shook your head, not believing it. Sandor was a good fighter, one of the best swordsmen in the seven kingdoms.

“You’re lying!” You yelled and walked further away from Joffrey.

“Then go out to the field and see him for yourself. He’s dead. He did his job to protect me. You can have him back now. I have no use for him anymore.” Joffrey lied to get that reaction he’s been craving. He smiled when he saw you crying.

“No!” You cried as you covered your mouth. You’re about to walk out of the tent to see it for yourself. “You aren’t going anywhere.” Joffrey screamed and grabbed a hold of your arm, pulling you back inside.

He pushed you against the table and you let out a whimper when you felt the cold steel of his dagger under your chin.

“Tell me the truth? Is he really dead?” Joffrey just sighs at you as he pushes the tip of the dagger under your chin making you wince. He smiles when he sees he cut your skin, a trail of blood starts to run down the blade of his dagger.

“He is dead. You want to know what his last words were?” Joffrey asked with a smile as tears ran down your face.

“He said. Fuck the whore princess.” Joffrey laughed at you. Joffrey's smile disappeared when you slapped him across the face making him cry out.

“Fuck you! You fucking bastard.” You yelled at him. Joffrey growled and you let out a gasp when you felt Joffrey’s hand hold your shoulder.

Looking at Joffrey’s face, you felt frozen for a moment. The anger on his face washed away and a look of panic came across his face. He took a step back and looked down at your chest. Following his gaze, you looked down and saw the hilt of the dagger. Taking a breath, the pain came rushing through you. He stabbed you in the chest with the dagger. Joffrey shook his head as he looked at you.

“Joffrey.” You cry out and fall down on your knees as you cry out in pain. Joffrey ran out of the tent leaving you behind. You were left alone, you looked down to see blood start to stain the front of your dress. You can feel the blood flowing down your body, you let out a moan of pain with each breath you took.

You didn’t even hear the commotion outside of the tent as you fell to the ground on your back. You stared at the ceiling of the tent as you cried. Your vision grew blurry, you didn’t hear someone coming in. You didn’t hear the shouts and the sound of someone walking inside. Blinking the tears, you were met with your father’s face. You see his lips moving but no words are coming out.

You feel so cold now. You let out a groan when you felt someone grabbing a hold of you. Robert started to cry as he held you in his arms.

Robert shook his head when he saw you were trying to speak but blood started to come out of the corner of your mouth. He flinched when you started to cough up blood. The only thing you can do is stare up at him. You were dying and it brought tears to your eyes. You were dying and he wouldn’t know what happened. Robert felt your hand on his cheek as you used all the strength you had left in you.

“Joff- ery.” Robert frowned when you spoke. "Joffrey."

“Jof-fery did it. H-he is a-a bastard.” You cried as your vision grew dark. “He is a bastard.” Robert felt you go limp in his arms after you said those words.

He calls out your name as he picks your head up. Something broke Robert in half and he relived the day he was told that Lyanna Stark was murdered. A scream came from inside the tent that made Robert’s army freeze. They all saw how the prince came running out bumping into his father. Robert had commanded Joffrey to stay put and that he will have a word with him after he spoke with you. Jamie yelled at Joffrey to come back when he saw Joffrey mounting the nearest horse. Joffrey rode out as Sandor came walking with a group, he had retrieved his sword and walked back to the base. He stopped when he saw Joffrey riding away and looked ahead when he heard a scream.

Sandor quickly walked to the white horse he saw you on. He began to breathe quickly when he saw you weren’t on it. He looked around and flinched when he heard Robert’s scream once more. Everyone looked at the tent, all frozen because they never heard Robert scream like this. Sandor shouted your name, not caring what people would think or say. He had to find you. He shouted once more before walking inside of the tent passing Jamie.

Sandor froze when he entered. He took a step back bumping into Jamie. The King Slayer gasped when he saw the sight of Robert holding your dead body in his arm. Robert sobbed against your neck. Sandor watched how your body trembled with each sob Robert made. Your eyes were open and staring at ceiling. Arms flared out, blood started to pool on the ground and cover Robert’s armor but he didn’t care. Your father held you in his arms.

Jamie saw the dagger in your chest when Robert pulled away from you to move your hair out of your face.

“Where is he?” Robert hissed. Sandor and Jamie remained silent. “Where is that blonde bastard?” The look of absolute fear appeared on Jamie’s face.

The knights outside quickly hushed down when they saw Sandor walk out of the tent. He dragged his sword on the ground as he walked to the nearest tree. Dropping the sword completely he ignored the questions thrown at him. They all looked at themselves when they saw The Hound with tears rolling down from his face. Sandor was in complete shock. His bottom lip trembled as he cried.

“Where is he?” Robert shouted in the tent and Jamie came out walking backwards. Robert had his sword aimed at him.

“This is a mistake. Joffrey wouldn’t do this.” Jamie explained but the look in Robert’s eyes. Jamie knew it was no use, Robert wanted revenge.

“Arrest him.” Robert yelled looking at his men. “Wait-this has nothing to do with me.” Jamie yelled as they tackled him down to the ground. Sandor looked over his shoulder when he heard Robert.

“The person who brings me Joffrey Lannister will be rewarded.” Robert's words rang out and the sound of Jamie screaming no was all that Robert needed. You told him the truth. A few knights had begun to ride back to King’s Landing.

Joffrey was indeed a bastard.

Sandor felt like an empty shell as he rode back to King's Landing. The cut on his arm was numbed, the banging in his head was nothing compared to the emptiness he felt in his heart. His blood shot eyes were glued to the wagon a few feet in front of him. Robert rode his horse as he led another with a wagon attached to it. He laid you there when they started to get ready to ride back. The knights that stayed bowed their heads when Robert came out of the tent with you in his arms. Robert covered you with a blanket, his hands shook as he checked you were strapped in.

Sandor can see the outline of your body, your body moved whenever there was a bump in the road. He had shut his eyes when he saw the blood seeping through the blanket. Robert decided to ride through the gates of the back of the castle. The servants and stable boys were all waiting to tend the wounded and the horses. Robert got off his horse and saw Cersei walking towards him with a frown when she noticed Jamie was chained.

“What is the meaning of this? Joffrey has barricaded himself in his room. He won’t open the door. My brother has been arrested.” Cersei yelled at him. She was met with a slap across her face that made her fall to the ground.

“Is Joffrey mine?” Robert asked, looking down at her. Cersei’s eyes widened in surprise but she hid it with a look of anger.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me.” Cersei flinched under his gaze and looked away. She looked ahead at his horse and noticed a wagon with a body on it.

“That bastard killed my daughter.” Robert yelled, grabbing Cersei by the hair and dragged her to the wagon. Cersei yelled in pain as he dragged her over. Robert ripped the blanket off of your body and pushed Cersei down on her knees in front of you. All she did was stare as the servants behind her scream in terror at the sight of you. Your servants began to cry and fell on their knees from shock.

Cersei just stared in shock, Robert grew angry when she didn't show any emotions. Cersei yelped when Robert grabbed a hold of her blonde hair again. Jamie screamed across from, screaming at Robert to let her go.

“Your grace, what's the meaning of this?” Jon Arryn, the hand of the King said as he walked along with the maester to Robert.

Jon Arryn froze when he saw you. He looked at Robert and at Cersei on the floor. Robert kept staring at her as Jon started to yell at everyone to leave. The stable boys grabbed the horses and brought them to the stables while the servants tried to cover their cries.

“Chain her with her brother.” Robert told Jon Arryn. The news of your death was not announced until two days later. Those two days seemed to be a nightmare to most. Robert had caused a rampage in the castle. Jamie and Cersei Lannister were arrested. Robert had the doors of Joffrey’s chambers broken down and the knights grabbed a hold of the blonde boy. They found him hiding under his bed. He screamed with all his might as they dragged him down the hall. Tommen and Marcella were kept guarded in the Red Keep, they had Jon Arryn to thank for. Robert had become ruthless and wanted every Lannister executed including the children.

Sandor stayed in his room those two days. He locked himself. He ignored the shouts and the screams from Joffrey who was being dragged to the dungeons. He ignored the knocks from your servants. He didn’t want to see anyone. He didn’t want to speak to anyone. He laid on his bed, covering his face with his pillow as he sobbed. He screams into the pillow trying to cover the sound. He cried until he fell asleep and woke up to do it all over again.

He shouted at the person to fuck off when he heard a knock on the third day. His throat was sore from the screams.

“It’s me, Sandor. It’s Ned Stark.” Sandor froze as Ned knocked once more. “I need to speak with you.” Sandor rose up from his bed and walked to the door.

Sandor notices Ned has been crying as well. His eyes were red and he let the lord walk inside. Ned walked in, looking at the room before looking back at Sandor.

“Did she tell you-.” Sandor cuts Ned off with a nod as he shuts the door.

“Very well then. I’m sure she didn’t tell you but she wanted me to tell you in case the plan fell through. She wanted me to give you a place in Winterfell, if you want too. Since Joffrey is still kept in the dungeon, you can come back with us after the funeral. I will arrange for some of my men to escort you to Winterfell unseen.” Sandor frowned.

“She asked you?” Ned nodded with a small smile. “She knows you've been treated unfairly by Joffrey. She wrote to me before her death, in case something happened to please have a place for you. She loved you, I didn’t understand it at first but the way she spoke about you. She called you a good man, a man with honor.”

Sandor shook his head. “I’m not a good man. I broke her heart because Joffrey threatened to have us exposed. He threatened to have her executed for being with me. For being with a dog, a second born son. It’s my fault she died. It’s all my fault.” Ned watched in silence as Sandor sat down on his bed and covered his face with his hands.

“You didn’t kill her. Joffrey did. It’s not your fault. In the end, I know for a fact she knew you still loved her. She had to know because why would she send me a letter asking for safe haven for you if she couldn’t make it.”

“The Lannister's trial will start soon. I don’t know about you but I can’t wait to see their faces. Robert's decision is final on them.” Ned told him and left the room leaving Sandor in his thoughts.

The trial ended with Jamie and Tyrion sent to the wall for their remaining days, it was thanks to their father, Tywin Lannister. He had rode to King’s landing demanding for his children's freedom but at the end. Tywin had begged for his sons to not be executed.

“Kill all the bastards, for all I care.” Tywin said, ignoring Cersei's cries. “And your whore daughter?”

Tywin looked at Robert and picked a decision that will haunt him for the rest of his life. “Do what you like, your grace. This is the last time she will tarnish the Lannister's name.”

Before the trial ended, Robert called out for Tywin. “Take your sons to the wall, Lord Lannister and stay there with them.” Tywin’s face fell, all the Lannister's were punished for Joffrey’s doing.

For the first time, the people in King’s Landing didn’t push and shove to see you or touch you. They stood in silence, some cried and others just watched as the knights carried your body in an open carriage. You laid on a bed of flowers, you wore a black and golden color dress as a tribute to your House. Your hands laid on top of your stomach as you laid there peacefully.

Making it to the Red Keep, the knights carried you inside where the realm can give you their last goodbye to you. Everyone had gone home when Sandor visited you. He dropped his shoulders and he felt the tears well up in his eyes at the sight of you laying so still in the middle of the keep. Lit candles surrounded you and you had golden coins laid on top your eyes. He removed his sword and wineskin from his belt, placing it by the wall as he walked towards you.

His hands shook as he tried to reach for your hand. He flinched when he felt how cold you were and stiffed. He grabbed it, ignoring it and bringing it up to his lips.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your knuckles. “I’m sorry, Princess.” He cries out. After a few minutes, Sandor clears his throat after saying his goodbyes to you. “I’m not going to Winterfell. We were supposed to go together.” He gently puts your hand back in place.

Before Sandor leaves, he looks down at you once more. “I love you. I will always love you.”

Grabbing his sword and wineskin, he shuts the doors behind and walks down the steps of the Red Keep, he ignores the two bodies stung up across from him. He had no need to see Joffrey and Cersei again. He walked to the stable to find Ned and his men. Sandor walked to Stanger, giving his head a rub before looking at Ned.

“Are you sure?” The Lord of Winterfell asked him. Sandor nodded at him.

“He just needs some time when it comes to new people. He’s a war horse, fast and strong.” Ned nodded before reaching his hand out for Stranger to smell it.

“We will take good care of him. Rob, my oldest needs a good horse. I swear Stranger will be well taken care of.” Sandor gives Ned the reins of Stranger and pats him once more as goodbye. Sandor watches as Ned and his men begin to travel back to the North. He wasn't worry about giving Stranger away, Sandor knew Ned will be true to his word. Stranger will be taken care of by his new owner.

Sandor doesn't tell anyone where he’s going off too. He walks out of King's Landing and walks through the forest to the edge of the cliff where he saw the sun was setting. Removing his sword and wineskin, he sits down and leans back against the tree as he remembers the sound of your laughter. This is the place, the place where you kissed him for the first time. You had managed to convince him to take you out after being cooped up in the castle. He was sitting on a rock as you gave him a wineskin out of your bag. It was out of nowhere but you had walked towards him catching him by surprise and you were at the perfect height to kiss him.

Sandor grabs the wineskin he brought and brings it up to his nose to smell it. He looks ahead at the scenery with a smile. Maybe it was the gods showing him a vision, or perhaps it was all in his head but he can see himself with you at the same spot on the rock where you kissed him. He had returned those kisses, gathering you up in his arms and both of you stayed there for a while. He forced himself to drink the wine as he stared ahead watching the sunset. He wanted to be with you. Throwing the empty wineskin, he looks down at his hands. His eyesight blurred and he looked up to find himself back in your room.

“Your hands are huge, Sandor.” He looks to his right to see you under the covers, naked. He notices the look on your face, the love bites on your chest were fresh. He lets you grab a hold of hand and compares it with yours.

“My hands aren’t not huge. You're just small.” Sandor comments as you raise his hand with your up in the air as the sunlight of the morning shined through the window of your chambers. Sandor had grabbed your hand and rolled over on top of you making you laugh as he kissed your neck.

Ser Gregor stood next to Sandor’s body. They finally found him after four days later when he received news of Sandor's disappearance. His men found him, found his body laying against a tree, with the sun beaming down on him. One of his men brought the wineskin near Sandor's body to Ser Gregor. Bringing it up to his nose, Ser Gregor makes a face when he smells the poison.

“Let’s take him back home.” Ser Gregor said, looking down at his younger brother one more time. It's the first time he had seen his brother so at peace. Sandor had died with a smile on his face.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

<- Chapter 2

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