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onthesandsofdreams · 4 years

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Inevitable Conversations

Fandom: ASoIaF Pairing: Sansa x Sandor Rating: T Summary: Sandor Clegane is a hunter, a monster and ghost hunter to be exact. That is not the problem. The problem is, that for the past few months, he has been in a relationship with one Sansa Stark. Again, the relationship itself is not the problem, the problem is, that he has yet to admit to Sansa that he is, in fact, a monster hunter. Words: 1183 Notes: Written for Friday Night Fights weekly event, prompt # 956

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Sandor Clegane is a hunter, a monster and ghost hunter to be exact. That is not the problem. The problem is, that for the past few months, he has been in a relationship with one Sansa Stark. Again, the relationship itself is not the problem, the problem is, that he has yet to admit to Sansa that he is, in fact, a monster hunter.

He’s never been shy about his profession, he has not hidden it from his friends nor his very few girlfriends (not that those lasted long anyway) in the past. But fuck if Sansa isn’t different, she’s soft and kind and sweet; she’s the living embodiment of what he images a high born lady of bygone ages would have been. And Sansa is one that spooks easily enough. At twenty five, she still isn’t one for supernatural movies and still covers her face and clings to his arm during jump scares (there’s a memorable occasion in which she nearly jump into his arms), and that… well, might be problematic for their relationship.

But he knows that he can’t avoid the conversation much longer, since his work is mostly by night, having the cover of working as a private investigator works quite well, it also has the advantage of being partially true. He does investigate some supernatural occurrences, he just happens to also kill said supernatural occurrences.

Jaime Lannister – that smug buggering bastard – has joked that his life is a constant Halloween month. But for all he’s fought the comparison, Jaime’s not quite lying, nor so far from the mark.

So, he braces himself and prepares to do whatever it takes to keep Sansa from bolting out the door and leave his life. And fuck him, that’s a first too, he’s never been one for relationships; at least not ones that actually last and where the word ‘love’ has been uttered by both parties, he knows he’s imposing, tall and broad, his voice is rough and half his face is a nightmare of scars thanks to his brother and he’s usually scowling, which doesn’t help at all. It’s a wonder Sansa even gave him the time of the day.

He marches to the market with a purpose and buys the ingredients for a fancy dinner. Living on his own has given him a mastery over the culinary arts, to the point that Sansa actually leaves the cooking to him most of the time when she spends the night – and days – over.

Sansa arrives on time – Catelyn Stark be praised for instilling in Sansa punctuality, and he’s already downed several glasses of scotch to calm himself down. How come he can face fire demons, and the thought of Sansa dumping him leaves him fucking cold. If he were religious, he’d be praying right about now.

“Thank you for inviting me, Sandor.” Sansa says as he removes her coat, the Autumn chill has finally settled in King’s Landing. “I’m looking forward to see what you did.”

“Not a problem, Little bird.”

He ushers her to the table, the food’s in the oven to keep it hot and there’s a dessert on the fridge. But now his palms are sweaty. He can do this. Demons and ghost are more trouble than this. But supernatural things don’t have his heart the same way Sansa does.

They eat and chat quietly, Sansa praising his culinary skills as usual, and has a second helping. The wine he got was also on the expensive side, but fuck it, Sansa deserves the best. And he might as well sweeten the whole ordeal.

“How about you tell me what you wanted to?” Sansa asks. “I can see you’re nervous, but, my knight in shinny leather jacket, you don’t have to be. Barring you saying you cheated, we’ll be fine.”

One thing he’s discovered very quickly that she’s very perceptive and notices things other might miss, and she’s also great at quick thinking. Some other reasons he loves her. “Ah… well. It’s complicated.”

Sansa waits, when he’s unable to continue, her mood shifts and her eyes gain a glint of mischief. “You know,” she leans forward conspiratorially. “It’s spooky season.”

He blinks. “And?”

Sansa grins and winks at him, a poor imitation of her sister Arya, who has grown use to causing mischief and who Sansa is trying to copy right now. “Let’s summon something. It’s October, Halloween’s right around the corner, we should celebrate.” She gets serious. “And what better way to celebrate than to summon something?”

His first thought is ‘Fuck no’. For he, who has grown up with horror stories of summonings gone wrong, who has actually had to save people from summonings gone wrong, resists the urge to slam his forehead against the table. He can’t quite avoid the words that come out, sarcasm thick on his tongue, “Sure, like maybe a cab so you can go home.”

Sansa blinks. He immediately regrets his words, she was just teasing. Fuck him, he’s always an idiot when it comes to this woman. Bloody hell. “Ah. Joking, of course,” he tries to smooth things over as quickly as he can. “You know, that’s what I wanted to tell you.”

Sansa’s eyes narrow, and her shoulders tense, “About summoning something?”

“No, it’s just… well, ripping of a band aid, I’m a monster hunter.” There, he’s said it. No taking it back now. What’s done is done and can’t be undone. The words had been uttered.

Sansa relaxes, sighs and says, “I know Sandor.”

It’s his turn to blink. “I am friends with Brienne?” Sansa offers. “And she’s gone hunting with you, she told me, but I wanted to give you the chance to say it yourself.”

Fuck, he had forgotten Brienne. He’s an idiot. “Must you be so perfect,” he grumbles good naturally. Then he gets serious, “Are you okay with this, Little bird.”

Sansa’s smile is soft and her eyes are shinning, “Not perfect, but thank you. And am I okay that my boyfriend risks his life to save others? Not entirely, I am afraid that one day you won’t come back. But I love you, and I love the whole of you and that means making peace and accepting that you were born a hunter, so I respect that. I can even admire your dedication to your work.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, “Thank you.” Is all he manages. “I was afraid you’ll leave.”

Sansa’s smile grows and she reaches for his hand, he takes her and enjoys the softness of her skin. “I could never, the only way I’ll leave is if you break up with me, or die.”

He barks out a laugh, “Then you’re stuck with me.”

Sansa nods solemn, “There are worst fates to be had.” Then, her eyes glimmer once more and she eyes the fridge. “I’m told there’s dessert?”

And relief washes over him in waves, so he laughs, lets go of his hand and gets up to get the chocolate tart he’s made and that she loves so much. “Dessert for one Little bird, coming up.”

It’s fine. They’re fine.

#friday night fights #fnf #sansan #sansa x sandor #Sansa Stark #Sandor Clegane #asoiaf fic #au: supernatural #au: monster hunters #au: modern westeros #ASoIaF

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ratt-selfships-archive · 3 years

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F/O List!

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