#background clegan

[trashbag-baby666]

Home is Where the Heart is Masterlist!

mota masterlist!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One…ao3 link

Chapter Two…ao3 link

Chapter Three…ao3 link

[galebucky]

Buck and Bucky looking at each other »10/?

[part-timewonders]

[meep-meep-richie]

they could have just kissed here, that would have been less weird🫠

[hogans-heroes]

Learning Curve

Chapter 1/? (AO3)

Alex, admittedly, was confused.

He thought he was getting a pretty good handle on prison camp life, but some things—crucial things—still eluded him. Every day since he had been dragged to Stalag Luft III he had been limping around the compound with a leg wound that still wouldn’t heal from when he was shot down, the spiking pain warring with the insatiable urge to keep walking, like if he stopped he would actually be here. If he stopped he would collapse. Since the first shards of flak struck his Mustang his mind and body could not stop moving, racing, calculating, for any shred of information or hint of survival, so he spent his days limping and shaking, gritting his teeth. Categorizing and repeating everything he had learned, examining from every angle.

The guards were predictable once you knew what to look for.

The routine of prisoner-of-war life was lousy but survivable with certain strategies.

The others in his assigned barracks took some warming up to the newcomers, and though Alex couldn’t say he had them all figured out for certain, he could read them well enough to decide they weren’t a threat.

Egan and Cleven weren’t gonna survive the winter.

…..

Or,

Alex tries to make sense of life at Stalag III, but the two Majors from the Hundredth throw a wrench in things.

….

Read on AO3

[theleft0ver]

Somebody please take my phone away…

I spend way too much time making these on Shuffles 💀💀 I can’t stop *gurgling noises* the fandom is too good

[wildfirefruitjars]

This stupid joke has been living rent free in my head, I just needed to get it out!

[swifty-fox]

when you couldnt remember the name of a gay artist so you were trying to google it and now you're reading an academic excerpt of gay 1900's-1940's arts culture

[ligawolfcosplayandarts]

Finished this Ser Gregor Clegane x Oc drawing, and I can be in peace one less unfinished drawing in my tablet.

Will see what is next draft to finish 😩

Her name is Aerin Fyorninn and she's badass asf. She's half ginger tho lol.

[nymerias-heart]

Mycah lives AU

"Are you going to pick up your sword?"

Mycah shook his head. "It's only a stick, m'lord. It's not no sword, it's only a stick."

"And you're only a butcher's boy, and no knight." Joffrey lifted Lion's Tooth and laid its point on Mycah's cheek below the eye, as the butcher's boy stood trembling. "That was my lady's sister you were hitting, do you know that?"

[brotherwtf]

[ALLOW] for some post war domestic clegan please ^^

love your writing <3

[ ALLOW ] sender sits in receiver’s lap and proceeds to play with their hair.

thank you so much anon!! needed this encouragement today 💕💕

----

Gale sat on the couch like he did every morning, paper in hand with the radio working gently in the background, sipping on coffee as the sun began to rise. He almost never slept through the whole night, often rising in the pitiful hours of the morning because of a nightmare or his bodily clock reminding him of morning missions he couldn't quite shake.

John seemed to be slightly more restful than Gale, always has been able to be knocked out as soon as he hits a mattress, but he still stirred in the night when Gale woke. Gale knew John got the same dreams as him, no need to bring those thoughts into the day.

Their mornings often went like this, Gale rising before John and John realizing the bed was empty about an hour later and wandering down to join in whatever mundane activity Gale had busied himself with. But now Gale was just sitting on the couch, letting his mind wander as he tries to read the pages of his newspaper.

John comes down a little blearily, but still makes a beeline for Gale's side, flopping himself down onto the couch and burying his head into Gale's lap.

"Good morning, love," Gale says with the air of a chuckle, smiling as John turns his cheek and gives him a lazy smile, eyes barely open.

He wraps his arms around Gale's middle, shoving his nose into Gale's naval and sighing deeply, clearly getting comfortable resting in Gale's lap. Gale can't help but laugh again, placing the paper on top of John's head despite his protests. His coffee lies discarded on the side table as he rests his hand in John's curls, playing with the bits that were longer around his ears and neck. John sighs contentedly and melts somehow further into Gale's lap.

"You ever gonna cut this or are you gonna keep it this long?" Gale muses and John shrugs a little.

"I don't know, I like it this long, tempts you to play with it more. Can't complain about that," John says and Gale rolls his eyes.

He scratches John's scalp as he returns back to the paper, words of an economic crisis and growing unrest falling on inattentive ears. The only thing that mattered to Gale right now is that he felt safe, he felt safe here in his and John's house after everything they went through together. They were finally safe.

[trashbag-baby666]

Home is Where the Heart is-Curt/Ken

What’s Waited Till Tomorrow Starts Tonight au

Summary: Curt's home from Denver and the inevitable reunion is bound to take place.

Wc: 2,060

c/w: implied abuse, ptsd, arguing.

mota masterlist!

Series masterlist! | ao3 link

“I got it! I got it!” Curt swatted at Sawyer's lingering hand on his waist. 

“Last time I try and help. You can fall down the stairs next time.” Sawyer barked in response. Some things didn't change, like being around your sibling all day. 

“Got a whole peanut gallery to go up the fuckin’ steps.” Curt shook his head moving his crutches onto the steps to help pull himself up to the next one. He didn’t really understand why John had his hands on his hips standing on the deck like some meemaw about to bust his ass.

“Goddamn it, Curt, I just wanted to ask you how your day was.” 

“Jus’ fine, Johnny.” He shouldered past him, opening up the screen door to let himself in. He just wanted to be home, being in Denver had his head stuck on Ken all day. A nagging reminder biting his neck over and over again that he fucked up and couldn’t take it back. He wished John would just take a goddamn hint sometimes, although he didn’t mean it. The initial anger from the last two months that he didn’t have, had been building up. The hopeless optimism had been slowly dissipating out of him, hell, maybe he should be in a good mood today. They told him he’d be able to schedule a prosthetic fitting, but the self hatred built up first.

But he did put on a smile for Gale, he didn't deserve any of his attitude. Not that John did but it was just easy to be mean to him, yeah he’d apologize later.

“How was your appointment?” Gale came out of the kitchen, but it just felt strangely off. Gale kept shifting his weight back and forth, he narrowed his eyes at him. He rested his hand on the wall leaning against his stuck out arm, seemingly blocking the kitchen. His gaze seemed to be more past him than at him. 

“It went, alight’,  said they-”Curt nearly lost his balance but at the same time he felt like an entire truck of cement was poured over him. His brain getting completely wiped of any thought he’d ever had. His whole body froze in place, his big blue eyes wide with shock, his lips slightly parted. There Ken stood right behind Gale equally frozen and shocked. Cordelia in his arms completely unphased by the events happening around her. 

“Kenny?” Curt’s voice barely audible if it hadn't been for the pin dropping silence. 

Gale took Cordelia from him and stepped out of his pathway to Curt.

“Curtie?” Ken’s hands came up to his face covering his mouth and nose in shock. Suddenly, hot tears were on his face and he took the few steps to Curt and threw his arms around his neck in a tight embrace, careful not to knock him over.

A familiar scent washed over Curt as he took in a small breath, that warm almost natural vanilla scent Ken always had. He felt skinnier when his arms went around him but unfortunately he wasn’t surprised considering the littered bruises on his soft, pale skin. 

“Let’s sit down, sweet boy, ya?” Curt tipped his head up a bit to place a kiss to a spot on his jawbone that wasn’t bruised or cut. 

The two’s moment’s seemed awkward and clunky, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Ken took a few long strides in front of Curt but then remembered he couldn’t move as fast as he used to. 

Curt sat down first and tossed his crutches aside, Ken standing by the arm of the couch unsure of what next. 

“Is this alright?” Curt gently took Ken's hand in his, upon the other nodding Curt gently patted the spot beside him. 

Ken’s breath caught in his throat upon seeing Sawyer bring in Curt’s bag. The neatly folded tie blanket resting on top of the desert camo duffel. 

“What's wrong?” Curt gently let go of his hand but then his eyes met Ken's gaze.

“You still have yours?” Ken's eyes brimmed with tears, he sat next to him and grabbed the blanket. He ran his hand over the faded, piled up yellow bumblebee fabric. His blanket he had tucked safely away in the guest room with his bag, a habit of his. It’s how he kept things out of Dom’s blind rage path, if he valued something he had to hide it. Truthfully, the only reason he had been able to hold onto the blanket is because Dom didn’t know it was from Curt. 

Way back in High School the pair made them as a little date night activity, they each picked a fleece and made the tie blankets. They were certainly a sight to see, Curt had picked skulls and flames and Ken had yellow bumble bees and flowers fleece.

“‘Course I still have it.” Curt unfolded the blanket carefully and wrapped it around Ken's shoulders. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Without even thinking Ken grabbed Curts left wrist gently and placed a long kiss on the faded K and heart tattoo like he always used to. 

“God, I missed you Curtie.”

—------------

Later that evening while the crickets chirped and the cicadas sang, Curt had on that thousand yard, soldier stare. His cigarette burning between his fingers staring into the nothingness of the woods. The trees swaying in the breeze provided another instrument to nature's white noise. 

“It’s scarin’ me you’re not saying much.” John sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The silence that had been passing between the two was enough words. Part of John just wanted to know what Curt was thinking.

Curt huffed out a dry laugh, “too many things in my head, not enough words to say ‘em.” 

He flicked his cigarette, bringing it to his lips again for another hit, his next words coming out choked with emotion, “I’m so fucking sad for him Johnny. And so goddamn angry at- at how someone could even do something like this to him. I shoulda tried harder, not pushed him away like that I- I shoulda been there this whole time, even from over there.”

“You didn’t know this was going to happen, none of us did.” John ran a hand down his face, holding out his hand for the cigarette. Curt passed it without a second thought.

“He just showed up?”

“Yeah, out of nowhere. We were about to go to bed.” John exhaled the smoke that quickly burned his lungs, punishing him for the drag, “Saw his motorcycle first, then him pacing.” 

“What did he say?” 

“Didn’t say anything about the bruises if that’s what you mean.” John tipped his head up looking at the open sky above them. His fingers tapping against the wide arm of the deck chair, he kept pulling his bottom lip over his teeth then back out. Curt could tell he was stressing about something more, John's anxious ticks hadn’t changed since high school. 

“Do you think it was…?” Curt didn’t need to finish his sentence and John nodded again. He started nipping at his own knuckles debating on what he should tell Curt, what was enough to keep him from spiraling? 

“Couple months ago, right after you got here. Buck hadn't heard from him in a while. We were gettin’ ready for bed and Kenny called. It was probably a solid 30 seconds of silence and he hung up…Buck tried calling him back but it just kept going to voicemail. We didn’t hear from him again till yesterday…” John stared into the sky, mentally identifying all the constellations he could see. 

“Did you know where he was?”

“No, I kept telling him we should go find him. He disagreed, said we should leave it alone.” John pressed the heels of his hands into his forehead letting out an airy noise sitting back in the chair.

“Why?” 

“He was scared of scaring him off. Said he would know,” John paused, his breath catching in his throat, “Thinks he knows more than me because he went to school.” 

John mumbles out, his hand reaching for Curts cigarette without moving his gaze. 

“Whaddya mean by that, Johnny?” 

“He just thinks he’s right about everything. We haven’t really been talkin’ since last night.”

“So youse and Buck are fighting, huh?” Curt wasn’t stupid either, the past couple weeks he could feel the difference in tensions between the two. 

“No, we’re not fighting.”

“You literally just told me you two barely talked since last night.” Curt barked his line of vision moving to meet Johns. 

John sat back defeated, he steepled his fingers at his lips but stayed silent. 

“Well, fightin’ is probably just the last thing Kenny needs going on.” 

“I know.” 

“Go and make up with him, Bucky.”

“Now?” 

“It gonna kill ya if you don’t hold a grudge for another twenty minutes?”

John rolled his eyes pressing down on the arm rests of the chair to push himself up, “You comin’ in?”

“After I finish this,” Curt brought another cigarette up to his lips and reached for his lighter off the table. John just nodded, turning on his heels he shut the sliding glass door. 

Gale and Ken picked up their heads at the noise seeing him standing at the opposite end of the couch. He looked down at the blanket resting over the back and began picking at it. 

“Can we talk, dear?”

“Yeah,” the blonde nodded looking down at Ken who sat curled up next to him. He nodded and let Gale go from his grasp.

John listened to Gales footsteps behind him up the stairs, he felt his heart pounding against his chest​​, each beat a reminder of the tension simmering between them. He was sick of fighting with Gale yet, he was doubting their ability to come to a common ground.

“So?” Gale waited, his arms crossed around his chest just cementing how closed off John felt from him. 

“Curt said we should talk it out,” John shrugged, “Don’t know, we got 'em home. Everything seems to be going fine.”

“And if it’s not fine?” Gale’s brow furrowed, his voice tinged with worry and frustration. “I’m not totally sold, this won’t be too much for Ken?”

“And for Curt? Are we just kicking him to the curb then?” 

“John, you know I don’t mean it like that–”

“Like what?” John took a step closer, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Curt’s not going anywhere, I just don’t think we thought this through enough.”

“And you know everything because you almost have a degree.” John’s tone was sharp enough to cut. 

“John,” Gale’s eyes pleaded for understanding.

“No! 

“We always do things your way, Gale. Did we not go through with your unthought out plan, today?” 

“Well that seemed to be the one everyone agreed with.”Gale’s arms fell to his sides, the tension in his shoulders visible. John crossed his arms now, mirroring Gale’s earlier stance.

“And what if it went bad?” John crossed his arms now, mirroring Gale’s earlier stance.

“I’m not doing this right now,” Gale rubbed his brow, his eyes closed and energy worn thin, “We can think two different ways.”

Gale turned away, his footsteps heavy with the weight of unresolved conflict. It was clear he was done fighting for the night.

John watched him go, the distance between them feeling too far to amend. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he stood there, pondering if his marriage was gonna end hardly after it started. 

In the quiet that followed, he sank onto the edge of their bed, his head in his hands. He felt the weight of their arguments, their unresolved issues, and the fear that they might never find common ground. He heard Gale’s footsteps retreat to the kitchen, the clinking of dishes a stark reminder of the normalcy they both craved but couldn’t quite grasp.John took a deep breath, his mind racing. He knew they needed to find a way to communicate better, to understand each other’s fears and hopes. But for tonight, the silence would have to be too loud. He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how much more their relationship could endure. How much more of him Gale could endure?

- - taglist: @austeenbootler @coastiewife465 @executethyself35 @slowsweetlove

[caustinen]

✧˖°. navigation ⋆˙⟡

multi-part fics & posts

hollywood au

a series of tumblr posts including drabbles, headcanons and fake ig-posts set in a modern au universe where bucky is a popular hollywood heart-throb and gale is a publicist - they have been in a secret relationship for years before they go public after getting engaged. mostly silly with barely-there plot. masterpost.

regency au

gale comes from humble background but falls for the rich, alleged playboy, most seeked out bachelor john egan. there's the original headcanon and then a short fic on ao3 set on the morning after their wedding. original headcanon / morning after fic "maybe i'm amazed" (ao3)

oneshots

"summer kisses/in my body" (ao3)

Sometimes – not often, mind you, but sometimes – Bucky wonders if he should be worried by what he’s unleashed. (canon post-war pwp)

"sharp dressed man" (ao3)

When Gale realizes he has forgotten to buy a present for his boyfriend's birthday, he ends up giving himself wrapped in something special. (modern college au, lingerie, established relationship, pwp-ish)

"hold me like a knife" (ao3)

The mission is done and Bucky is wounded, but he’s got a date to make. (agent!bucky x mob!gale (kinda-not-really), secret relationship)

"oh, when the saints" (ao3)

A moment shared in the night after Bucky arrives to Stalag Luft III. (canon, hurt/comfort)

drabbles

(also posted collectively on ao3)

chance meeting - gale is hit on at a bar and bucky comes to the rescue

lawyers au - a moment in the office after a very special day

headcanons

teacher!gale x single dad!bucky

pilot!bucky x cabin crew!gale one & two

singer!bucky x songwriter!gale one & two & three

"you better paint the bedroom ceiling your favorite color"

bucky flirting with gale post-surgery not knowing they're married

modern au cleagan roleplay

college au gale discovers he's into bondage (could be read as part of sharp dressed man universe)

canon post-war clegan buy a house together

concubine!gale/king!bucky

one of them didn't go to war (currently working on making this a fic where gale stays behind)

everyone in the 100th has a crush on buck and bucky is not happy

buckies being obvious with their pda and everyone being annoyed about it

family christmas hc part 1 & part 2

++ jumping on other peoples business one & two & three & four & five

what's your favorite? which one should i write more about? ask box is always open 💞

[amoromniaodium]

I hate angst, but Clegan has been making me feel horribly sad. I wanted to see if any of you are interest in an extremely angst fic. I am posting for the first time this is my first full on prompt I hope you guys like it. This is probably horrible but here you go:

---

Gale Cleven was born unloved. His father despised him, beat him, and screamed at him. His mother was coldly indifferent to her husband's treatment of their only son. This harsh upbringing forced Gale to adapt to any environment, learning to read people so effectively that he could almost predict their words and reactions. However, sometimes his gift didn't work properly he does not see it coming; his scars and bruises from his father were telltale.

Gale Cleven grew up feeling cold and unloved, so detached that it seemed something within him had broken; he had never felt warmth in his life.

Gale Cleven grew up in profound loneliness, constantly questioning if things would ever improve.

He didn’t have friends because he moved so often. His shyness and disinterest in typical boyhood activities meant that no one approached him.

Gale Cleven was always pretty—not handsome but beautiful—and that beauty frightened him.

That is why, when he entered flying school and met the men who made him feel warmth for the first time, Gale Cleven became Buck Cleven—a person with friends and love.

Buck Cleven was born, but Gale Cleven still lurked in the background, waiting for the warmth to fade and the cold to return.

Gale Cleven loved Bucky Egan deeply and loyally; he was the only one for him. This obsession or loyalty might seem abnormal to the average person, but Gale had grown up cold, alone, and unloved, and when he finally felt warmth, he clung to it.

Bucky Egan was the hottest and brightest being out there, the sun that kept him warm on the coldest days.

However, what Gale felt for Bucky Egan was not reciprocated, and it only took one evening outside the pub for him to realize this.

It was at that moment that Buck Cleven broke in half, and Gale Cleven re-emerged. It was then Buck realized that, like the sun, Bucky had many orbiting him. Gale was just one of many, the farthest from the warmth, not even a planet—a dwarf planet like Pluto, forgotten and cast aside.

When Buck Cleven saw Bucky kiss someone he knew, so deeply and lovingly, he realized he meant nothing.

Isn’t it funny how naive he was to think that someone like Bucky would ever love him or be there for him? Buck had given his whole self, his broken soul, only to be cast aside and destroyed again. Perhaps it was better that it happened now.

Buck Cleven ceased to exist. Why should he be kind and present when he was not valued? He cast aside the name Buck, a name given to him by the man he loved, and decided this was it.

No more touches, no idle chatter, no more loving glances, no more following and waiting to be acknowledged.

He would be Major Gale Cleven, performing his duties well, but he would no longer yearn for John Egan. It was over.

Like his father, John Egan had taken a piece of his soul, destroyed it for laughs, and handed it back.

Gale Cleven realized that there was no such thing as emotion, love, or peace—there was only living.

[rangerelizabeth]

If it feels like love (then it must be love) - Ch. 3/11

[Mature, Modern day, Clegan college au, Gale Cleven/ John Egan, Fluff, Hurt comfort, Slow burn, Freshman Gale, RA John]

John files away the fact that Gale loves ice cream, tucking it neatly into a corner of his mind like a precious secret. Later that night, as he lies in bed beneath the soft glow of his bedside lamp, he drifts into a daydream that feels somehow vivid and tantalizingly close. He imagines taking Gale out on an ice cream date, the kind where the world seems to slow down and everything else fades into the background. It feels so real, John thinks he can almost taste mint chocolate chip as he pictures kissing the sweetness from Gale’s likely even sweeter lips.

[AO3 LINK]

[libraryofneith]

Old Dog, New Tricks - Chapter 3 (Sandor Clegane x Female Reader)

@ladysandorclegane1968 @broadsdrinkwhisky

Series Masterlist

Summary: As Sandor settles in, he wonders what is next for him, what to do with his life.

Tags/Warnings: none really, whole fic is 18+ but this is a very chill chapter. Enjoy it while it lasts, cos it won't, OC has mutism.

Thanks to everyone who's liked, reblogged or left a note. The response to this has been amazing.

When we found her, she was wandering the countryside, filthy and covered in blood. And her eyes – there was a look in her eyes of someone who’d seen something truly terrible.

Weeks past and with them, Sandor found himself healing. With the help of some other friends of Septon Ray’s, he found himself beginning to walk a bit more with each passing day. First across his room, then he ventured outside. That was when he learned where he was. He was with a small settlement of people who appeared to have set up camp in the middle of nowhere and had started building a sept.

They were people from all over: the North, Riverlands, Westerlands, and people from all walks of life and backgrounds. All these people brought together by religion to start their own way of life, a bit like the Brotherhood Without Banners only not so stuck up their arses and with a lot less fire and a lot more sanity.

Once he was able to walk, stretch and lift weights without fainting like a maiden at the sight of blood, Ray set him to work helping with the building. He said they could use a man with the Hound’s infamous strength on their mission. Sandor had given up his identity when Ray told him he already knew who he was.

“Your reputation proceeds you; huge man, and even through all that mess I could see those infamous scars.” Sandor growled, irritated.

He then asked if he’d seen a scruffy looking girl of about 13, might’ve looked like a peasant boy. The septon shook his head and said they’d found him alone. That didn’t surprise him. If he remembered right, the girl had left him on a mountainside to die then left, looking to be heading towards Saltpans.

“Why the fuck did you bother asking my name then?” The man smiled and shrugged.

“Formality, I guess.”

When Sandor wasn’t chopping wood or carrying heavy planks, he spent most of his time alone. The people here weren’t unkind, some of them could even look him in the eye, but they were all happy and decent folk who seemed to be completely un-phased by the horrors in the world around them. He had no place among such folk. Well, except for Septon Ray, he always took time in the day to visit him.

Truth be told, he was growing quite fond of the holy man. He wasn’t like the other septons he’d met, he wasn’t all solemnity and false piety, acting all holier-than-thou. He was happy and he was human, always greeting people with a smile and a joke. He even knew jokes bawdy enough to make Sandor snigger. The man was also completely unpretentious, a trait Sandor rarely found in anyone.

Sandor had snorted and said “You’re in the wrong line of work.” At least he was honest, which was more than could be said for most holy men.

Other septons liked to pretend that they knew the answer to all of the world’s mysteries and that if you just kept quiet and prayed then everything would turn out right. When Sandor challenged him with another man’s beliefs about the Lord of Light, he simply said

“Well maybe he was right, I don’t know much about the gods.”

But then there was the girl, Kyra. He didn’t know what to make of her. A young girl who he’d seen every day while he was bed-ridden, and most days once he was up. When she wasn’t nursing him, he noticed her about the camp cooking, planting vegetables or doing whatever chores needed to be done. She was small for her age and moved so quietly he mostly wouldn’t realise she was there until she was upon him.

He’d approached her one day, to thank her for her skills in nursing him. He'd been unsure of what to say, it'd been a long time since he'd thanked anyone for anything and he wasn't sure what she would say, but she said nothing. She just smiled, nodded, then walked away. He thought that odd but when he thought about it, he realised he’d ever heard Kyra speak. She wasn’t deaf or foreign; he saw her reacting to what people said, but she never spoke back.

“Good girl that.” Septon Ray said, approaching him where he stood. “Should’ve seen her when you were still out of it, most of the men wanted to slit your throat as an act of mercy but the look she gave them would’ve made the bloody Mountain shit his pants” Sandor smiled at that thought.

“Aye she’s a good lass. Why doesn’t she speak?” The septon’s face seemed to sadden at that.

“Fear, I think. When we found her, she was wandering the countryside, filthy and covered in blood. And her eyes – there was a look in her eyes of someone who’d seen something truly terrible. She screamed bloody murder when we tried to bring her back to the village but even when we eventually managed to calm her, she never spoke a word, and hasn’t in all the time I’ve known her.”

“Then how do you know her name, or get her to do anything?”

“She writes things down, or motions them, or sometimes just a look is enough.” Sandor could understand that – the girl had the most expressive eyes he’d ever seen. They’d been the first things he’d noticed about her when he woke up.

The bell rang out, meaning a break for a meal.

“Come, sit with me for dinner” Septon Ray said.

“Nah that’s alright; I don’t want to scare your men.” The man just chuckled.

“If they’re scared of you that’s their problem, I’d have my friend join me for a meal.” That took Sandor aback. Ray was kind to him, but he was kind to everyone. He didn’t think that the man thought of him as a particular friend. He didn’t know if he really wanted a friend.

That got him going.

“If you come now there might be some ale waiting.”