#slight sansan but not exactly

[sincerelydayyy]

Another fix-it, for Tyrion/Sansa with some fun protective Sandor thrown in for good measure. [Multishipping is a source of joy you guys]

Rough summary: Tyrion gets two invitations, and reconnects with someone he cherishes. 

Also on AO3 here

Tyrion had received the news of the state of the world following his capture through broken valyrian, as he wasn't fluent in most tongues beyond the one he was born with though he had tried to serve the Queen as best as he could. He was aware that he had not done what was right all of the time, and if he could go back perhaps he had could have done better. 

He had made his bed so to speak, he would lie in it now and possibly die without ever seeing the ones he loved most. Though they were much fewer now, he still longed to be in the presence of his brother who was much more broken than he was the last time he saw him, Lady Sansa who had taken her place as the Queen in the North like she had been wanting to do for so long. 

He imagined that would share very little words, but he was glad she found happiness where she could. 

When they came for him, he had been prepared to die and so perhaps it was a curse that he continued living in spite of all the misdeeds he had done. He would see to King's Landing, a mockery that he was sure his dear father would have loathed if he still drew breath. Tyrion hadn't wanted this either. He would have much more likely to have to be sent off somewhere else but the council had deemed it necessary. Each region needed someone to look over the people and make sure they were treated right. 

Sansa had made her thoughts known on this clearly. He had no ill will for the people so he would serve them as the city rebuilt once more. The North was returning to its solitude of being independent once more. 

Tyrion felt sadness about this, there was little reason for him to enter Winterfell once more with this in mind but he did not object. This was always Sansa's plan. To look after her own people they needed to exist freely. 

He was surprised when he received the notice of her coronation, and an invitation to join the festivities. 

Bran sat next to him during the coronation, occasionally glancing at him for the reaction he expected. The boy who normally appeared emotionless seemed to have warmed at the inclination of normalcy in his home. "If you're waiting for me to make a scene, you'll be disappointed."

"Never. I'm curious as to what you'll do. There are some who have reservations of Sansa inviting you to this." He answered quietly. 

"I've never had any malice towards her."

Bran produced noise of mirth but didn't reply immediately. He waited until everyone made to move to their tables to tell him. "It's not about that. You're still a Lannister." 

Tyrion sighed. 

"Watch out for Sandor when you go to say hello," Bran warned him as Podrick came up behind Bran to wheel him away, he was going outside for reasons that Tyrion couldn't begin to imagine. He was such an odd boy. 

He was struck by another thought however, he had said Sandor hadn't he? He had nearly forgotten about the Hound who had been thought to have perished with his brother. He had returned to Winterfell then?

It was almost hard to miss the large man as he stood nearest to the Lady of Winterfell. He still looked as mean as ever but there was something else in his eye as he stood watch. 

Tyrion decided it was better to get this over with now. He planned to keep it short.

Approaching Sansa as he was was a spectacle in itself, nevermind the fact that Sandor seemed to train his sight on him the second he could properly see him. He stopped close enough that he wasn't seen as a danger to her. 

"Your Grace, Ser Hound?" He greeted in confusion. 

"Aye," Sandor responded in kind. "Surprised you made the trek, Imp."

Sansa rolled her eyes at her guard. "Sandor. He's fine. I invited him myself."

"One has to wonder what went through your head." 

Sansa laughed. "I'm sure you'd like to know. Give us some room. He doesn't bite."

Sandor shuffled a few paces away, and Tyrion took the moment to stand beside the Lady. 

"You look well, my Lord. Thank you for joining us." She nodded, as he gave her a gentle bow. 

"It would be stupid of me to not mention that you're the reason I'm here at all." Sansa smiled, "You still had to make arrangements to get here Tyrion. It's not all on me though, it pleases me to see you clean."

Tyrion nodded, the last time they had laid eyes on each other he was in shackles and covered in dirt and piss. "You make a beautiful Queen, my lady."

Sansa didn't deign a verbal reply in this. She just gave him a look, soft and familiar. A reminder that there was so much they still needed to work through but this was a good start. 

He imagined this would not be his only visit in the days to come. He had to rebuild this relationship too. 

Before any damage could be done, he decided to take his leave and was surprised to find Ser Brienne waiting for him just outside the doors. "My Lord."

"Good Ser." He nodded. 

She extended a scroll to him, nervously. 

Before opening it he knew what it would say. A note from Jaime, asking if he would extend his journey a bit longer to follow Sansa to Tarth. 

His brother was trying to be coy, but he was a bit out of touch. He was no fool. "This will be my first Knights wedding. How refreshing." Tyrion grinned at Brienne who was flush in embarrassment. 

It wasn't to be for a couple of months from now but the idea made the half-man very elated. His brother was getting his happy end. It was all he could hope for, for the time being.

The ceremony wasn't superfluous at all, a change for the better knowing that the newly wedded couple had made strides to not cause too much of a fuss. It was a rather interesting affair, two knights having fallen in love; one of which was a Lion. A battered one but a Lannister still. Unless he decided to do something unexpected, and it didn't hit him until he was having a stroll against the shores with Sansa after drinking that perhaps this was a new age for the brothers. 

"I don't think this is how I imagined it going at the beginning of this journey." He mused aloud.

Sansa peered down at him. "That your brother would marry someone not your sister or that you would end up here with me, again."

"Where is here exactly?" He ignored the first question knowing that was just a jibe.

"A new beginning on the shores of Tarth." She quipped, innocently.

"I could have sworn I had returned into your good graces long before today." He drew in a breath.

"Watch it." The Hound wasn't too far behind, the ever vigilant guard to his Queen. 

Sansa let out a laugh. "He isn't wrong though, Sandor. I haven't been upset with him in some time. However, this feels nice to be able to joke and not be afraid for once in my life."

He felt that too. "It is. Pray it should continue for however long you wish it."

Sansa was content to extend her hand to his. This was good.

[burningcerberus]

HIDE AND SEEK

By

Aealo

Summary:

Sansa Stark gets lost exploring Red Keep's infamous and dangerous network of ancient, hidden passageways.

As usual, The Hound comes to the timely rescue. Or does he have a more sinister, nefarious purpose for being there in the first place?

SANSAN one shot. No angst. Pure smut. Contradiction in terms? Pardon the pun. This is not HBO show version. BOOK CANON Age & Appearance, (big muscled physique, slight anger/alcohol issues and no odd-AF half-beard as per book for Sandor, because facial hair with 3rd degree burns is just not going to fly) Sansa is aged up to 16 for story purposes. Sandor Clegane age unchanged at 27. If this age gap makes you uncomfortable, please skip this fic as it includes explicit content and sexual tension.

Notes:

Author's Note:

First off, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed; kudosed & bookmarked my first humble SANSAN offering As Above So Below. I appreciate you all! From the bottom of my heart, Thank you. You keep me going and writing more.

Here we are with another SanSan ficlet. Alright, let's call it smut-fest and leave it there? Heh. Not much romance in this one. Okay, a little bit. (Strange huh) No angst to speak of. (Ok, strange is an understatement now, as I live and breathe Romance&Angst.)

Not much of a purple prose in this one either.

Just shameless smut and unresolved (or shall we say semi-resolved?) sexual tension. Smut. I did mention smut, did I not?

Perhaps a sprinkling of romantic tension, too. Petty Petyr, Varys and Lady Margeary are briefly mentioned because drama.

As usual, Book version SanSan. Not the HBO show version. Once again guys, Fair warning: Sandor remains unchanged at age 27, Sansa is aged up to 16 (Westerosi age of consent) for story purposes. If you are uncomfortable with the age gap, I'd definitely skip this. So, a bit of OOC, a pinch of a canon divergence simply because of Sansa age.

Sansa is a bit OOC. Less of a sook. Girl has backbone. Or she is hormonal, take your pick.

Oh, Common sense, wherefore?

I hope you guys enjoy it. Please drop me a note or a kudos if you do. I would most definitely appreciate your support, keeps me going.

If you don't, no dramas. Can't please everyone; in Ned Kelly's immortal words: 'Such is Life.'

Compulsory Authors Note 2:

Just to clear a few things up, I have nothing against the HBO show or Rory McCann & Sophie Turner; it's just that I much prefer the book version characters, especially when it comes to the Hound. I've always envisioned a passionate, intense young(ish) man in his prime at 26-28 according to the books, and muscled and built like a tank as per book, with varying degrees of anger/alcohol issues, not a 40+ year old who seems subdued and sort of toned down, shadow version of himself if that makes sense.

Hound is described as cleanly shaven in the books, or rather, he is not said to have a beard or stubble in the books, and I agree it is not only a much better look for Sandor Clegane, but half a beard would look downright weird AF! - As facial hair wouldn't grow on the burned side! I get that hair might grow back depending on the severity of burns but come on mate; do Sandor's scars look 1st or 2nd degree burns to you, with his jaw bone showing, skin and muscle seared away so badly that from the description we can easily surmise his burns are -at the very least- 3rd degree? Think about it. Why do you think the man brushes his hair over that burned scalp? Exactly.

As for Sophie Turner, the actor is lovely and all, but she just does not fit my vision of book Sansa.

Anyhow, without further ado,

I give you…

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

'Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter.'

Ode on a Grecian Urn - John Keats

HIDE AND SEEK 

SANSA

Sansa was lost.

Utterly, hopelessly lost.

Her apprehension grew as she progressed deeper into the network of hidden passageways built into the Red Keep, her only source of light coming from the waxen remains of a rapidly melting stub in its brass holder.

When Sansa had undertaken this daring -alright, make that foolish- adventure on a curious -harebrained- impulse, she could not have foreseen the daunting task of having to navigate an entirely stuffy, and endlessly confusing labyrinthine passageways that seemed to connect, extend and stretch on for forever. Twisting, winding passages occasionally led to nondescript doors, all locked and barred from the inside. 

Sansa had heard that if one followed a certain route and knew what they were looking for in the way of markers and waypoints, one would eventually emerge in the dangerous underground tunnels that led to Blackwater. 

Or, straight into the Dungeons.

Oh, wonderful. 

With my rotten luck, I know where I am more likely to end up…

By the Sweet Seven, Sansa thought, these passages all look similar! The layout was even more confusing than the rules of Cyvasse. For a moment, Sansa pondered whether she should retrace her steps all the way back to the cellars. If she did not return to Meagor's Holdfast in time for the evening bell, Joff would send the Kingsguard to look for her! That meant more beatings and punishments. Not even Lady Margeary would be able to subdue and stay the King's psychopathic cruelties this time.

She let out a dismal little sigh, her gut churning with the unpleasant memories.

Sansa hoped, nay, prayed that if anyone did come looking, at least the Hound would be tasked to bring her back.

The man was blunt, harsh, rude and arrogant but at least he treated her with…What? Kindness? 

That has to be it, decided Sansa. The Hound was gentle-ish, in his own way. He was the only one who had come to her aid during the riots, even abandoning his own beloved black warhorse, Stranger, to look for her and rescue her. My hero…Not to mention standing up to his King in front of the whole court and cloaking her 

half nakedness. 

Well, he threw his cloak at her to be precise, but still. The man clearly cared for her to an extent. 

How gallant and courageous the Hound is underneath that snapping bark, thought Sansa with a little, dreamy sigh. So very brutally strong too, to have taken on that frenzied mob on his own. Swoon!

Sweet Maiden, he is so huge and fierce in that dark plate of his. Swoon indeed!

Twas true, the Hound was not exactly pleasing to the eye…well alright, he was downright frightening and naturally intimidating with those gruesome burn scars twisting all over the left side of his face and throat, but for some peculiar and unknown reason, Sansa found Sandor Clegane…appealing. And exciting.

It had nothing to do with his muscles and size, of course, right Sansa Stark? 

Alright, Sansa, you can stop drooling, anytime now.

Appealing? Exciting? 

Oh by the Maiden…What am I thinking?

I am a flighty little bird after all, thought Sansa, with the oddest notions in my head.

Cease your daydreaming and concentrate on the task at hand, Sansa Stark! 

Sansa held her melting candle aloft and followed the narrow, cobwebbed passage. The erratically flickering, weakened flame threw sinister shadows across the dripping walls.

By the Sweet Heavens, tis revolting! This whole place is just awful! 

Sansa grimaced at the musty, rust coloured stains oozing down the walls. To make matters worse, the hem of her saffron yellow skirts and little half-boots were already grimy with a disgusting substance of unknown origin. She felt the gossamer caresss of yet another large cobweb hanging from the ceiling. Something scurried past her feet.

Rats! 

Yuck! Gross!!! 

Sansa cringed in disgust and gave the rodents a wide berth. However, Sansa Stark had more pressing problems. 

Her already dim candle flickered unsteadily in the sudden icy draught that rushed into the corridor. The weak light could not withstand the cold gust of wind. 

Suddenly entombed in near complete pitch darkness, Sansa nearly jumped out of her skin with panic and fright. 

Uh oh.

By the Seven Heavens! No! 

I do not want to be stuck in this airless, narrow space with no light, with only Gods knew what else dwelled in the dark!

Why oh why did I not bring an extra taper?

Lesson learned, Sansa.

I have to keep going.

In a frantic bid to find an exit, Sansa blindly groped about and rounded another sharp corner.

Just as her eyes were slowly adjusting to the lack of light, Sansa heard the scrape of a boot in the dark.

With a sudden chill of realization, Sansa realized she was no longer alone. Panic, despair and dread crawled down Sansa's spine. 

Oh by all the Old Gods and the New, who can it be?? Lord Varys? 

Her heart pounding a loud staccato beneath her ribcage, Sansa paused for a moment to concentrate on the sound that was rapidly filtering into her awareness.

Heavy boots. Creaking leather. Clanking spurs. 

By the Mother and Maiden! Who can it be?? Friend or foe? There was no telling who could be roaming these passages.

Whoever it might be, mayhap they know a way out of this awful place? They surely must. I don't want to be stuck here! I have to risk it!

"Hello?" Sansa called out warily. Her voice sounded like a nervous little squeak in the dark.

She received no response. 

"Who is there?" Sansa chirped out, thoroughly unnerved and trepidatious now.

Utter, persistent, dead silence.

Suddenly, the footsteps sped up towards her.

Sansa gasped, her imagination taking wild flight and conjuring all sorts of monstrous entities that might be lurking in the dark and laying in wait to ensnare and gobble up foolish little birds like herself.

The steps were getting closer. Long, heavy, aggressive stride. Uh oh.

Sansa's frantic haste to get away from the frightening, unknown presence resulted in her slipping on a slimy puddle on the already slippery ground. She shrieked.

"Aahh! Mmpff-

Suddenly, a big hand clamped over Sansa's mouth, cutting off her screams. Sansa was pulled back against a towering, very strong, very hard and very male body, steadying her and holding her indecently close. Sansa froze in fear.

SANDOR

Fuck me sideways! 

This girl is constantly falling arse over teat. 

Speaking of…

She looks so damned good in that saffron coloured dress that accentuates her high, perky breasts, with a lavender sash around her tiny waist, highlighting the enticingly swaying divine curve of her hips. Her waist length wavy hair tied back in a thick auburn braid with a lemon yellow satin ribbon…

Practically glowing in the dark.

Certainly looks the part of a rainbow summer bird for true. 

Clumsy, daft, tiresome, pretty little bird…

Smells good too.

Damn and thrice blast, but Sansa bloody Stark is fragrant like a lush spring garden, all sweetly budding blooms and fresh, ripening fruits…

Buggering Hells, Dog! Forget all of that! What the fuck is she doing here?!?

"Another game of hide and seek, little bird?"

The Hound's deep rasp sounded directly behind Sansa, whispering into her bright auburn hair. 

He took his hand from her mouth, but did not set her free from the inflexible cage of his arms.

Sansa's heart fluttered. Her entire body was abuzz with excitement and hidden, secret yearnings generated and enhanced by the Hound's extremely close and potent proximity and amplified by the darkness that surrounded the two of them.

He was unarmoured? Garbed in some kind of plain spun woolen tunic and leather breeches from what she could feel.

Keep your groping hands to yourself, Sansa Stark!

"Oh, its you." Sansa chirped out brightly and slackened with instant relief against the Hound. "My lord, you scared me!" 

By the Mother and Maiden! This man is a life saver, Sansa thought. Literally. He always seems to mysteriously manifest out of the shadows to lend me timely assistance just when I'm about to fall or worse…

Scared you, did I?

"What else is new." Clegane muttered cynically under his breath, then brought his half-burnt lips to her ear, his warm breath gliding over her skin. "Keep your voice down, Birdling. We aren't alone here."

"Who else is wandering these halls, my lord?" 

Lord Varys, I expect, thought Sansa, the enigmatic man was fond of using these passages to eavesdrop on people. Tools of the trade.

Long raven hair brushed against Sansa's cheek as the Hound muttered in her ear. 

"Do you mean to tell me you have never heard of the phantom of Red Keep?" 

"No, my lord!" Sansa stifled a gasp of fascination and surprise, eyes going big and round with barely contained enthusiastic glee. "I was not aware the Keep was haunted? Do you suppose it is the restless shade of the Mad King, or mayhap a Targaryen ancestor? Oh I would dearly love to see a ghost!"

"Not quite." The Hound's whisper dropped a pitch lower, darker and deeper. His half-burnt mouth twitched.

"See, this particular entity cleaves to the shadows and appears when one least expects him. He stalks these passageways in search of lost little birds."

Sansa blinked a few times. 

Her heart skipped a beat. 

Is he…flirting with me???

By the Maiden! He so is! 

The rude and arrogant, stern and stoic Sandor Clegane, Hound, Kingsguard, Joff's Sworn Shield no less, is flirting with me! There was definitely a very suggestive undertone to that rasp!

Her ladylike manners and modesty momentarily flown from their carefully composed cage, Sansa hid her excited smile.

She drew a deep breath. The perpetual scent of steel, leather, spilt blood, sour red and male musk enfolded her from behind and seemingly all around, warmly melting into her skin, making Sansa blush a deep crimson. 

Her flushed skin was now very warm to the touch, as hot as the Hound's, in fact. Seized by a sudden wicked, mischevious impulse, Sansa whispered back softly.

"What does the apparition do when he 

finally captures the said bird, my lord?"

Sandor Clegane arched his good, heavy black brow.

The fuck!? 

Is Sansa bloody Stark flirting with me???

Me, Sandor of House Clegane, low born Westerman? 

Me, the big, scary Dog?

Not the reaction I was expecting, not that I am complaining. 

Here I thought she would recoil and cringe in terror.

Well, what do you know…

Brave, reckless little lady!

You're playing a dangerous little game here, Birdling. Way in over your head. 

I must admit you got me intrigued, however!

The Hound took Sansa's chin from behind, tilted her head back. Stared down into her huge blue eyes. 

"Why, he eats her up whole, of course." He breathed the words against her cherry mouth, a magnetic, sensual undertone to the husky, deep rasp. For a long moment, his mouth hovered over hers. Saw her eyes widen and lips tremble and part on instinct. His dusky hair drifted over Sansa's heart-shaped face as the Hound bent a little lower to plant a slow, lingering, possessive kiss on the hollow of her throat instead.

Ye Gods, but I'd fucking eat you alive, little songbird! 

I'd take my sweet time too, and slowly feed on your peachy smooth skin. Devour your soft, dewy flesh. 

If only I were not Kingsguard and Joff's Dog to boot…

Fuck's sake, Hound! Don't bite the hand that feeds you. 

Snap out of it, man.

Look but don't touch!

Too late now.

Game is on.

"Mmhh…" Sansa let out a soft moan before she could stop herself.

The fire ravaged, twitching half of the Hound's lips left a most peculiar and exceedingly pleasant impression on her smooth skin.

Like scratchy, crushed velvet. Oddly pleasant and very warm.

A deep shudder and molten heat as of a warm tongue licked down Sansa's spine, transforming into wetness pooling between her thighs. Her legs felt wobbly, her lower belly tingled and clenched with anticipation for more. 

By the Mother and Maiden!

This man is even more confident, bold and brazen than I initially thought.

Absolutely shameless.

Goodness gracious! 

He just kissed me!

Well, he kissed my throat, to be precise, but still!

He must be drunk as a lord!

Or is he?

I know I shouldn't stand for such impudent, lewdly vulgar behaviour, but…

I…think I…am falling! Crushing…Flying…

Is he amusing himself at my expense or is he as enamoured with me as I am with him?

Sansa lowered her voice to a softer whisper. Giggled nervously to cover her mounting embarrassment.

"In that case, your timing is impeccable, my lord. I have been wandering these corridors for the past hour or so in search of an exit, but I must confess I am a little lost." 

"With your abysmal sense of direction, is it any wonder?" The deep, gravelly rasp was layered with faint contempt. 

Sandor Clegane's arm encircled Sansa, pulling her closer and tighter against him, driven by a deep, instinctive desire to protect her and…

Fuck!

Look at this rare little bird all flushed and unresisting.

Unafraid!

So fucking pretty…

The Hound stared down at the beautiful, red-headed maid caught in his unyielding strong-hold, a faint, dark sneer twisting the fire ravaged corner of his mouth, silver grey eyes aglitter with passionate intensity.

So soft and tasty and enticing. I could just taste and take that pouting petal mouth and she could not do a thing about it.

Taste? Don't you mean plunder and ravage, you savage Dog?

You want gentle, girl? Too fucking bad.

Speaking of petals…

I bet she smells and tastes like paradise between those pretty, long legs of hers. 

Untouched and unsullied. 

Pure and wholesome.

All strawberries and cream. 

Dewy with heavenly nectar. 

Sealed nice and tight…

Fuck! 

Get your mind out of the gutter this instant, man. Down, Hound.

"Well, since you are here, my lord, perhaps you might show me the way? Guide me?" A sweet, timid little whispering chirp tumbled from her rosy lips.

The twofold meaning in Sansa's words did not escape the Hound's notice.

Seven fucking hells!

Look at that sultry smile.

What is she doing?

Does she think to mock me?

Tis easy to play pretend in the dark, is it not, little bird,

When you can hardly make out my scars,

Can barely see my accursed face,

What do you think I am?

Some blooming chivalrous knightling from your books?

She's asking for it, alright. 

This is one bold and brave little bird who isn't afraid to poke and tease the savage Dog. 

Go on, then, prod some more, why don't you?  

How would it feel to tear her apart, kiss by bloody kiss?

Sansa gasped and blushed furiously as she heard the Hound's soft snarling grunt in her hair and felt his hardened manhood lurch and pulse against her rear. Her toes curled in her little boots.

By the Maiden! This man is hard and huge ALL over! 

And so irresistable…!

Sansa, atremble with the head-spinning potent brew of deep longing and pent up desire, tried to cling onto some semblance of girlish modesty and ingrained sense of manners but her body betrayed her almost instantly. 

Possesed by raw, almost primal instinct, Sansa arched her hips slightly and pressed herself more snugly against the Hound's raging erection.

The actual Fuck! 

Is the maidenly, shy and bashful little songbird grinding and rubbing against the big, scary Dog?!

Oh, Fuck me! She is.

Fucking tease!

All dewed with sweat and burning up for me.

So fucking irresistable!

Show you the way and guide you huh? 

Careful what you wish for, little bird.

"Naughty, wicked little girl." The Hound chuckled darkly, planting a slow kiss just beneath her ear, feeling her pulse flutter frantically like a captured little butterfly. He could practically smell her arousal.

"What is it that you want me to show you, exactly?"

"A…a way out of here, my lord." Sansa stammered and whimpered breathlessly, squeezing her legs together. The sensual overload was starting to erode her sanity and demolish her reasoning. Sansa felt the Hound rub his closely shaven jaw against the thick, fragrant red river of her hair. 

Sure that's what you meant, little Songbird. And I'm a buggering anointed knight.

"And into my private quarters?" The Hound flicked his tongue over her neck. He tugged her little puffy sleeve down, slowly tracing a wet line across her exposed shoulder. His warm breath caressed over her overly sensitized, flushed skin. 

"Mmmhhh…private quarters?" Sansa echoed, robbed of breath and reason, her mind turning to mush, her body writhing needily against him.

"Just me and you." The Hound murmured against her heated, peaches-dipped-in- cream skin, his voice lowering to a deeper and raspier timbre.

His large, battle-roughened hand glid slowly up her thigh, taking his sweet time to feel and explore her over her skirts. Heard her breathing turn sharp and shallow. 

Holy fucking Hells!

Am I dreaming or 

Is this exquisite creature moaning for more?

Is Sansa bloody Stark practically swooning in my arms? 

Fuck me!…I'd give anything to rip her smallclothes off and grab those silk stocking covered pretty legs by the ankle and…

Or I could take her right here, right now. Pin her against the wall, wrap her around me and-

Or, I'd be kneeling between her thighs with her pretty legs draped over my shoulders for that deep penetration, my mouth suckling on her nipples and…

Or I could bend her over, easily achieved in this position. Lift up her skirts, pull her underthings to the side and…

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!!

"Locked in a cage together." The Hound kissed another deep whisper into the smooth skin of Sansa's neck. Clegane tightened his grip on her beribboned long braid coiled tidily beneath a pearl encrusted, gossamer net, unconsciously loosening it first, and then freeing it from its confines in one go with a savage tug. 

I'd rip that dress off, grab you by the hair, lick every inch of your skin, throw you down on that hard mattress of mine, spread your long legs and go to town…

She wouldn't know how to ride me proper, but I could teach her. A flesh and blood throne for the Northern Princess. She'd clench down on me, using me as her mount, her nails digging into my skin, eyes rolled back, bouncing up and down, taking her pleasure, our fingers linked together, or my hands cupping her perspiration dewed breasts, tweaking her stiff nipples…

Or we'd be doing it upright, completely naked and covered in sweat, I'd be picking her up, her silky legs tightly wrapped round my waist, her arms wound round my neck for support, clinging hard and fast to me, my hands grabbing her buttocks and brutally impaling her on my rock-hard cock, forcefully and relentlessly thrusting into her tight, wet little hole for my pleasure as we keep intense eye contact, mouths sealed together…

Oh FUCK! 

Sansa could clearly feel the heat emanating from those big, long fingers and seeping into her skin even over the satiny fabric of her gown. A hoarse growl tickled her ear. His erection throbbed violently against her curvy bottom. Swallowing convulsively, Sansa reached a dainty hand back to weave her fingers into the Hound's dusky hair. 

"Cage…?" Sansa repeated like a simple. She could barely breathe. Her wits were completely scrambled, her manners long flown away. Pure desire took hold and would not let go. Her underthings were soaked, her legs jellified.

"Alone and naked together." 

The Hound's lips caressed along the side of her delicate jaw. His cock felt cast in steel - he was that hard, as he slowly rubbed and thrust against Sansa's sweet arse.

Sansa wetted her suddenly parched lips, her eyes half closing, glazed with searing lust. Between her slick petals, her delicate bud was swollen and aching to be touched, the sudden, aching hollow deep inside her begging to be filled to the brim. 

Fucking Hells! 

I want you so much. 

I want to take you and tease and pleasure and satisfy you for hours.

You have no fucking idea how much 

I just want to…

Bury my aching, rock-hard cock all the way to the hilt deep inside your tight little cunt and endlessly drain my balls into your womb. Fill you up until you are overflowing with me…Lick the salty sweat off your skin…swap positions and start all over again…until we both cum hard, entwined and rolling and writhing together…Again. And again…

Fuck this game! Tis torture, naught more!

"All tangled and twined together." The Hound's voice was a low rumble as his left hand trailed upwards Sansa's bodice and cupped her breast. 

He could feel her little heart hammering out of her chest. 

Arousal and fear created a potent alchemy, after all. 

Amplified by the dark, cramped  atmosphere, it transmuted into a devastatingly intense, powerful aphrodisiac.

Every inch of her perfect body was vibrant with the euphoric, volatile brew.

Fuck me! She's only a small-ish handful but so damned perfect. Feels so damned good. 

Everything about her is pure and true and good.

Every gorgeous lash of auburn, every tiny freckle, every breath she takes, the way she blushes to the tips of her delicate little ears, every sunny smile she generously throws my way, her cool, dainty hand settling on my arm, threading into my hair…

Fucking Hells, I can't get over the erotic images in my head. Just the two of us, in various positions and states of undress, burning all night long…

You are so beautiful.

I am fucking hideous.

I wonder what our babes would look like…

Sansa let out a quiet sobbing moan. Her nipples grew stiff and achy as the Hound massaged her breast over her dress. Squeezing and cupping. Why wouldn't he just loosen her laces and slip his hand inside her bodice already! Her hips rolled and writhed against him. Her elegant hand tightened in his fine midnight hair. The Hound's erotic assault on her senses was starting to reach unbearable levels.

"I wager you'd sing prettier than a nightingale in my cage, little bird."

The Hound nuzzled Sansa's neck and growled a guttural curse. His erection was straining in his breeches and the tip was starting to leak a little. Sandor Clegane could not recall being this painfully hard in his entire twenty-seven years of life.

Mayhap I should just have my way with the princess and rid her out of my system! 

Lay this obsession to rest.

Banish her from my soul, once and for all.

She has taken deep root in my core.

It is me, who is way in over his head…

Sing me a song, pretty bird, sing only for me. I would give anything for one song…

Fuck this game to the blackest pits of Hells! I will have a song from you, whether you will it or no!

Wait.

Hold that thought.

I heard something.

The Hound abruptly went still, his head coming up swiftly, grey eyes sharply scanning the semi darkness ahead. 

He was sure he had heard something, someone imperceptibly moving, a subtle shift in the air.

Ah, there it was.

There was a muffled noise and another rush of cold draught swept into the passage.

Sandor Clegane fully snapped out of his sexual haze at the sound of the faint, catlike-stealthy footsteps.

The Hound motioned Sansa to be quiet and listened closely. The sound was coming from the far end of the darkened corridor.

Buggering Hells!

What the fuck is up with the increased foot traffic in these passages tonight?

Sansa paused to listen as well. She was still disoriented, unsteady and fogged up from searing arousal.

The Hound however, was alert, staring deliberately past her into the obscuring darkness.

"Someone's coming this way!" Sansa whispered urgently, grabbing the Hound's muscle-bound arm, eyes going wide and round. 

"Hush!" Clegane warned softly, putting a finger to his lips.

A small lamp flared. Its shutter slid open.

Littlefuck! What the Hells is he doing here?

You thought to corner this little bird, did you not? You slimy bastard!

Over my dead fucking body!

Suddenly, Sandor Clegane grabbed Sansa Stark's hand and tugged her briskly towards the concealed doorway. He turned a small, hidden lever behind an empty torch sconce and shoved her unceremoniously into the unlit, unoccupied room that the hidden mechanism revealed.

Behind them, the door slid back into place soundlessly.

SANSA 

Sansa took a step forward in the dark and came up hard against the Hound.

Oops! I am not groping, I swear it!

"Thousand pardons, my lord!"

"Bloody Hells, girl!" He barked out in agitation and steadied her with a heavy hand on her slender shoulder.

His mood changed again, Sansa sighed quietly to herself. Scorching hot one minute, cold and distant the next. Tis nothing short of baffling.

The Hound released Sansa, stepping aside and turning away to adjust himself before lighting a candle. 

A deep, grim frown darkened his brow.

Buggering Hells! 

This girl never fails to addle my wits. 

Planting erotic fantasies in my head just by her mere presence.

To the point of utter madness where I'm actually fantasizing about getting her big and round with my babe.

Watch it Dog. 

One of these nights you'll lose control and go too far.

Way too far, past the point of no return.

Then we'll both be royally fucked.

Sansa calmed herself down and examined the large room with curiosity. 

Where did the Hound bring me?

An armoury?

Amber candlelight gleamed on the sharpened blades that lined the stone walls. Finely crafted massive halberds almost thrice her size, knights lances, poleaxes, double edged, dual handed longswords, several shorter blades of varying lengths and designs, battle axes, morning stars, maces and warhammers glinted menacingly. The weapons were sharpened to a vicious edge; the balls and chain looked well used; none of the displays looked ornamental. 

Suits of piecemeal armour, chainmail, heavy plate, visored full helmets with unfamiliar crests stood like silent sentries against one wall.

There is a hidden switch somewhere in this armoury, but I have no clue as to where. Behind that suit of plate mayhap?

There has to be another one in the Serpentine. 

So, this is how the Hound just appears out of the blue. Not that I'm complaining! He always seems to be there when I need him the most. Shadowing my steps. Rescuing me like the hero he is.

"What in the Seven buggering Hells were you doing sneaking about those tunnels, girl?" Clegane asked with a frown, jolting Sansa out of her reverie.

She slid the Hound a thoughtful glance, trying not to openly stare. It was impossible to focus her attention on anything or anywhere else.

The man was only partially armoured for the night. Didn't look any less fierce for it. 

His tall, powerfully muscled physique was more than obvious and still clearly well defined beneath the maroonish red woolen tunic adorned with the black leather dog's head, tight black leather breeches tucked into heavy boots and dark vambraces on his wrists and forearms.

His raven hair looked overdue for a cut, sweeping past those big, broad shoulders. 

The cleanly shaved, unmarred half of his face was uncompromisingly harsh and stern, his gruesome, burnt features eclipsed by the undulating shadows. 

A dark leather sword belt completed his attire. The blade seemed to be an extension of the man; The Hound was never seen without his longsword and a dagger hidden somewhere on his person. He probably feels naked without his weapons.

Speaking of…

Sansa's gaze involuntarily drifted downwards, a little to the centre, at the clear outline of his large, bulging manhood. 

It twitched under her shameless scrutiny!

Oh Sweet Heavens, that thing looks brutal and enormous, like the man himself!

The Hound folded his arms across his chest and leaned a hip against a high stone slab. A grim smile slashed across his face. 

No, rather, the man was smirking smugly. He knew full well where Sansa's attention had strayed and lingered.

By the Maiden!!! Don't stare!!! Avert!

Dear sweet Gods…Kill me right now! 

Sansa wanted to just disappear in a puff of smoke, she could barely suppress her groan of burning mortification.

The Hound's half smirk grew even more superior and arrogant, his lip twitch more pronounced. She saw his bared teeth.

Turning a brighter scarlet, Sansa quickly averted her face. Oh look, an axe! Yes, focus on that. 

"Are you dreaming?" The Hound sneered. "Answer the question, little bird."

"What? Oh, right. I..uh..I was exploring the Keep, my lord."

Hmm. So what is this, not a hatchet? Yes, keep looking at the weapons. Safer this way.

"How the fuck did you find those tunnels?"

"Through a hidden staircase in Meagor's Holdfast." Sansa clasped her hands demurely in front of her. Stole a quick, guilty, furtive glance at the Hound. 

Great. Just lie to his face, why don't you, Sansa. Lie until you're blue in the face. That will endear you to him for true. 

"Don't try my patience, girl." Clegane's silvered grey eyes narrowed, his square jaw clenched. "I want the truth."

Sansa sighed softly.

"Lord Varys mentioned in passing that there might be a concealed door in the castle's main kitchen."

"Go on." He pushed himself off the table and casually strode towards her.

He looks…a little angry. And very aroused.

Oh dear Heavens! Look away! Abort! 

"I, uh, snuck down into the cellars and found the hidden doorway; by sheer chance, mind you." She chirped out hastily.

Sansa was sure there was another hidden entrance in Lord Varys's private bedchamber. 

"Fucking Hells." The Hound scowled darkly. "That is no place for a soft, clueless little bird like you. The entire place is quite literally a death trap. One misstep and it's off with your pretty little red-head." 

Sansa chewed the edge of her lip and lowered her lashes.

"Then I count myself fortunate indeed that you have found me."

"Why, you wanted to kill us both, did you?" A dark smirk crossed the Hound's lips.

"No of course not, my lord!" Sansa protested. The man was looming extremely close now. She should retreat a step, but her body wouldnt obey.

Swords.. daggers.. warhammers…um..

Gods, he is terrifying. And so bizarrely, wildly attractive, burns and battle scars and all!

Sansa averted her reddened face once more, her gaze flicking across the array of polearms. Fidgeted. Lances…Uh…

"What the fuck would you have done if I hadn't come looking for you?" 

Clegane grasped her jaw and tilted her face up to his. 

"You came after me?" Sansa smiled up at him, ignoring his vulgar turn of phrase. Her lake blue eyes were brilliant with gratitude and deep, girlish infatuation. A dreamy sigh escaped her lips, her heart melting right into her little half boots. "You rescued me once again."  Like a hero in a book!

"Bloody Hells, you are a daft little bird, aren't you?"

Sandor Clegane sneered viciously down at Sansa Stark.

"But so pretty." He brushed his thumb over her plump bottom lip. His rasp was a low rumble. "Prettiest little bird I ever saw."

By the Maiden! So romantic…I think my heart is about to burst! 

Sansa's blush deepened to a crimson rose, she swallowed delicately, tucking a lock of auburn red behind an ear, fidgeting slightly. 

The Hound's breathing turned slightly ragged as his grey gaze blatantly raked over the the lush, pouting spring blossom mouth, the milk and lilies of her peachy soft skin, freckle-kissed tops of her breasts, the alluring outline of her graceful curves. 

He sank his fingers into her auburn waves, cupping the back of her head.

His gaze dragged back towards her face, and the Hound slowly bent his head down towards hers.

Oh Sweet Maiden! Is he going to…

Sansa, in turn, leaned in a little closer. Studied the Hound's face. His high, gaunt cheekbone. His nose that had been clearly broken a few times and not set quite right. His brilliant eyes. The awful, irregular red crevices and grooves of his terrible burns. The bone in his jaw where the fire had seared away a small portion of flesh and muscle. The grim, brooding, twitching mouth.

The said mouth curled in mocking contempt, grey eyes flashed with savage lights. Abruptly the Hound pushed Sansa away.

Sansa blinked. What did I do?? 

No, honestly, did I do something wrong?

I was so sure he was going to kiss me just then. 

He shamelessly flirted with me!

Made my heart sing!

Was it all one big jape to him? 

It must have been. Sigh.

How can I just go on as if everything were quite normal and fine and dandy? 

"Time to go back to your cage, birdling."

Clegane said flatly. His eyes were heavily shadowed. Turbulent, stormy grey waters that gave nothing away.

Why, is it time for you to return to your kennel? 

Sansa was fuming inwardly, but her serenely composed expression gave nothing away. Or so she hoped.

Fine, be that way, my lord. 

The game is over, I suppose.

"Fine." Sansa said quietly, and walked past the Hound with as much dignity as she could muster, a high, regal angle to her chin and a shuttered expression on her face. She struggled to suppress her frustration, vexation and unrequited feelings to the best of her ability.

Behave yourself, Sansa Stark.

You are a Princess of the North.

A Lady's armour is courtesy.

Twas nothing but a silly fancy.

A little make believe in the dark.

A jape, naught more.

He was just mocking me.

I just can't keep up with his mercurial temper and odd moods.

How could I be so foolish as to entertain the outrageous notion of an illicit romance?

He doesn't like me, anyway. 

Does he?

The Hound grabbed her wrist as she haughtily strode past. 

"Lady Sansa." His rasp softened to a husky edge.

"Yes?" Sansa halted and glanced up. Her heart danced a little faster. Her pulse raced. Hope shimmered in her royal blue eyes.

Just kiss me already you dense, insufferable big brute! 

Seduce me! Woo me!

Dont be scared!

"Don't forget your candle." The Hound's twitching lips were curved in a faint smile.

Ooh! How dare you! The man's a tease!

"Thank you, my lord."

Sansa offered him a tight, strained smile, almost gritting her teeth with frustration, and gracefully accepted the freshly lit taper. Yanked it out of his hand, rather.

Stuff it, she thought. I'll do it myself.

"Clegane?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for coming to my rescue." Sansa rose on tippy toes and planted a butterfly-soft, but lingering kiss on his marred cheek, very close to the twitching edge of this mouth. 

Last thing Sansa Stark saw over her shoulder as she reached the exit, was the Hound's totally stunned and dazed look. The man was staring after her like a lackwit, mouth agape, rendered speechless, perhaps for the first time.

Serves you right, thought Sansa. Now it was her turn to smile smugly. 

Hide all you will, maybe next time I'll be the seeker in this little game of ours, Hound!

THE END 

[thebluelemontree]

I was re-reading AFFC and this line bugged me ("She was the wise one, though. Jeyne lived on Fair Isle still. She had married one of her lord brother's bannermen and whelped a dozen children." Cersei VIII)...In my language the line "Fair isle" was translated to "Quiet Isle"...So do you think this foreshadow SAN/SAN endgame or is just wishful thinking?

Nothing to do with Sansan. That’s probably just an unintentional coincidence that occurred in the translation. The Fair Isle is the name of an island off the coast of the Westerlands. It’s ruled by Sebaston Farman, Jeyne’s brother. Jeyne married Ser Gareth Clifton, who is sworn to House Farman, and they had a bunch of kids. It means exactly what it means. The Quiet Isle belongs to a monastic order of the Faith, not a lord. There really isn’t anything similar to connect them.  

Jeyne was the only one of the girls who had the sense to run off and not offend Maggy the Frog. If there ever were any parallels, it’s most likely pointing to Jeyne Poole, companion of then-future queen Sansa. Both Jeynes are criticized for being overly frightened, but in hindsight, their fear was “wise.” Except Jeyne Poole’s fate is a nightmare version of Jeyne Farman. Posed as Arya Stark, she does marry one of her “brother” Robb’s bannermen, a son of House Bolton, and we know how that turned out. Not with a bunch of kids, thankfully. Beyond that slight similarity, I don’t see anything else to make me think its anything more than George just liking repetition to invite comparison. What is he saying about the dynamic of Cersei’s friendships vs. Sansa’s friendships. How are they similar? How are they different? It doesn’t seem to be predictive of anything yet to happen, though I do hope Jeyne winds up happy, safe, and loved.    

[reginadiutopia]

Little Bird sings too much

Prompt by @meggiry-khaleesi:  How about Blackwater au, where Sandor spirits her away during the battle, they end up at an inn, and Sansa accidentally drinks too much ale and confesses her feelings? :P

Thank you so much for the prompt! Although I am excited to publish something after so long and most of all about this ship, I can say I am not satisfied with what I wrote, so I hope it is not a complete mess lol Here it is.

**

Pairing: Sansan Raiting: K+ Words count: 2.258

**

Before deciding to enter an inn, Sandor took some precautions: he waited to be enough distant from King’s Landing, got rid of anything in his attire that could match him to the kingsguard and elaborate a sort of cover story for them. About that, he thought at first about the option of present themselves as father and daughter, but unable to bear the disgust that took him at such prospect, chose to go down with the uncle and niece pretense instead. The choice didn’t matter anyway though, because once they sat, Sansa chose that exact situation to ler her voice finally be heard after a quite quiet journey.

“Two steaks and two mugs of ale! And you’d better bring them fucking quickly!” he ordered with his usual  bark, smirking then a little seeing the frightened look on the young waitress’s face.

Maybe that was the reason why the Stark girl interjected in the first place, or maybe it was just to go against his plans.

“Please and thank you. You must apologize my husband, we are just very tired and hungry” she said with a reassuring smile, to which the serving girl blinked a few times but then simply nodded and left.

But, if the girl’s evident surprise for their possible relationship vanished quite soon, it was not the same for Sandor. Surprise, or better shock, lingered on his face for several seconds, alongside with other feelings: bitterness, sadness, anger…Until all of them collapsed into a loud joyless laugh.

“What is it?” she dared to ask, when she dared to look at him. “You said that we should have made up a story” she added then right away, because after all she knew exactly what that reaction was about.

His eyes darknened and his lips curved up in what could be described as spiteful amusement.

“Fuck, Little Bird… Aye, I said a story, but a believable one!” he replied, letting that little unfriendly smile fall completely.

Well, it actually sounds believable enough.We may actually look good together – that’s what Sansa thought, but carefully chose to bit her tongue on it. Her own spontaneous thoughts were scaring her and she couldn’t help the blush that immediately went forming on her cheeks.

She trapped in embarassment, and he trapped in anger, they both refused to speak or to look at each other for the whole meal.

And in silence they drank.

**

“Slow down! This is not colored water!” – And not even the bloody classy wine you learned to sip at Court.

It was Sandor the first one to speak up in the end, with the clear intent of mocking her. But there was also a touch of tenderness and concern in his harsh voice and it was that touch the reason why he broke that heavy truce. Used as she was to sip a half glass of wine, he couldn’t help but wonder how she was going to tollerate two mugs of an unknown strong drink. Actually she drank the first one quite slowly like he would have expected of her, but then, probably deciding that the taste was good or that the alcohol in it was helpful, ordered another ale and drank it all in no more than three gulps – the last one of which she was swallowing right when he spoke.

As if the sudden unusual lack of manners and the redness on her face wasn’t enough to prove that she was rather tipsy, Sansa let out a strange laugh while placing down the mug and then looked up at him, straight in the face without wavering. Although that kind of look was something he had always wanted from her, he could not ignore the fact that it was alcohol making her brave enough to face the beast.

“Stop drinking, Little Bird, you’ve had enough” he said, firmly but with an usual softeness.

“Why? Are you afraid that your wife embarasses you? Why is the idea of me being your wife so unbelievable to you?” she replied, raising her voice and revealing completely her anger.

That tone for a moment took him off guard. Between the ones that cried and the ones that kissed, it seemed she was the kind of drunk that yelled. But what on earth was she angry about and with whom? If the words hadn’t caught his attention more than the tone, maybe he would have pressured that point. But instead he did focus on the words – on the w word – and he felt trapped again in his own anger.

“Stop fucking saying it!” he spat now, more firmly and very less softly.

She shook her head, looking away for a short while. But when she looked back at him, unpredictably he saw her eyes shining of tears. Confusion filled him at that reaction and also a sense of powerlessness. He hated to deal with crying women, he hated to deal with the Little Bird crying, but now it was worse because he didn’t have a clue about the reason. Maybe she was crying because he was too harsh to her, maybe  because she was finally realizing the escape and the fact of being bound to him for the rest of the journey, maybe it was just the alcohol doing. Anyway, it was clear that the Little Bird was the kind of drunk that yelled and cried.

“Com’on, Little Bird, stop crying now” he said, sounding uncomfortable and with that, once again more tender that the usual.

He tried to look away from her and her sad angry eyes, but he didn’t manage because she suddenly stretched her arm on the table between them and grabbed his one, forcing him to look again at her. Oh, funny to think how the roles were usually reversed!

“What if I don’t want to stop? What if I want to stop running and remain here drinking for ever? What if I want to stop being a lady and finally cry... What… What if… What if I want you?”. Her frantic voice stopped for a moment as  if a sudden revelation hit her and, unable to refrain herself this time, she just let it out without filters. “I want you, Sandor… I want to be with you”. The grip on his arm was loosened, but her stare was holding him in place with a captitative determination.

Just when he thought that nothing could surprise him more in that night, that confession left Sandor with eyes wide open in pure shock, as he felt his lips twitch istincitvely up in the good side of his face. But right that smile, that half smile of his own, was the reminder that prevented him to trade shock for happiness. He closed his grey eyes and as he opened them again, there was only hurt in his look. Not amusement, not tenderness, not even anger, just an overwhelming hurt. He couldn’t tell why she was saying those things, but it was undoubtful that they weren’t true. How could it be otherwise? How could she, such a pretty little thing that flinched in fear everytime he came a little too close, now suddenly claim to have feelings for him? Either she wanted someone wrapped around her fingers like one of those stupid knights she heard about in the songs, or she was afraid that he could leave her and wanted to keep him close with sweet words. As if he wasn’t already gone from hound to puppy in three days because of her. One of the options was the right one, he decided, as he stood up slowly and gently took her by the waist in order to lead her out and let her get some refreshing sleep.

And even if during the whole hour that took her to finally close her eyes she kept telling himthose inviting things and to phisically approach him, he ignored her attempts and avoided her like the plague. It was so ironic to think that up until that moment having her willingly closer to him was everything he could have asked for, but he didn’t want it like this. He didn’t want a lie.

He preferred to be feared, rather than pitied or mocked.

**

When Sansa awoke from her sleep, she found herself under a tree covered in Sandor’s cloak and the sun was already up. Sandor was already up as well, feeding Stranger. She sat up slowly since her head hurt, but that soft moves were enough to catch his attention. In fact, she could feel his eyes on her even if that feeling wasn’t matched with any words.

“What happened?” she asked, pressing her fingers to her temples. She knew it was a stupid questions – the head wasn’t hurting without a reason – but still it could be enough to speak to him. Even if she had been drunk enough to say and do brave and silly things, she hadn’t been drunk enough to forget them. Not all the things that had happened were in the right place in her memory, but they were all there, they all came back in the exact moment she opened her eyes.

Sandor just eyed her in silence at first from afar, and only after several seconds decided to approach her. Still without answering, he eyed her a second time then with more attention, probably checking  if she was alright and most of all trying to figure out if she was the same person of yesterday or – more likely - the same person as ever.

“Little Bird sang too much yesterday, I guess” he simply replied in the end, with a flat voice and an unreadable face.

It was Sansa’s turn to study him. Alongside with her actions, she could now elaborate also his reactions and what she had failed to see the night before was now clearly in her memory: the expression of pure pain in his eyes and the awareness that she was the reason behind it. And so, after a quick consideration, she suddenly stood up and, even ralented by the slight headache that made her waver for a moment, was the one to reduce the distance between them. She came closer, but stopped when closer was still not too close.

“I am so sorry for my behavior.  I acted like a child and surely caused you embarassment, when you are already so kind and good to help me. Please, forgive me”

Sandor looked into her eyes and found hismelf unable to deny the truth in her look all cover up in the usual elaborated courtesy of her words. Though, what he found curious was that she didn’t seem ashamed like he had predicted, but rather guilty. Good, he thought, maybe she was realizing exactly not the embarassment but the pain he had caused to him and would never try something like that again in the future.

“It’s alright,you can quit the chirping, Little Bird. I know very well how one can say something that don’t mean when he’s drunk. So no damage drunk” he replied shrugging, trying to sound detached, but having to look away in order to sound so. “Now let’s go. We have to move” he added, brusquely giving her the back and already starting to walk away.

“Wait!” she stopped him though, instinctively grabbing his arm. It was the second time she was searching such a contact in less than twelve hours and this time she couldn’t use alcohol as an excuse. “Please, wait. I never said that I didn’t mean what I said. I am apologizing just for my behavior, not for my speech. After all, when you came into my room during the battle, you were drunk… And yet now that you’re sober you’re still helping me and you don’t seem to regret your choice!”

They stared at each other for a long while now, Sansa biting her lower lip and waiting for a reaction and Sandor frowning in confusion trying to actually decide that reaction. Oh, she did look embarassed now, as the slight blush back on her cheeks confirmed, but also she looked sincere once more and the honesty in her eyes was hurting him now even more than her words of the previous night. Also, she had a good point: the whole escape thing had started from a drinking binge and no, of course not, he didn’t regret that damn decision to bring her along at all, the hell with the trouble he would have to face! Maybe the same could be said for her and her own binge, now that she was sober was she truly confirming that she wanted him? Well, even if she meant it, it didn’t mean that it was exactly what she had in mind. She had just apologized for acting like a child, but in the end she was a child indeed, what could she possibly know about love? But then, on the other hand, old as he was, what could he possibily know about love?

He was caught between the desire of kissing her there in that moment and the request made by his own mistrust not to believe a single word of it. Finally he breathed and just chose not to choose for now.

“We should get going, Little Bird” he repeated in fact, as if nothing ever happened, but still gently taking her hand in his big one, because something had happened.

And for something more to happen, they both knew that they would have needed hopefully another powerful dose of ale for either one of them.

[kateofthecanals]

For the (Not)Watch: Episode 7.7

Our Long National Nightmare Is Finally Over... Or Just Beginning(?)

As far as anyone reviewing this episode is concerned, all that really matters in this 80-minute-long episode is the final 5 minutes. 75 minutes of utter nonsense will likely be immediately forgotten because... well, first things first...

The season finale was written by D&D, and in case you were doubtful about that, the opening scene contained not, not two, but FIVE cock-bombs within the first 2 minutes. Excellent jobs, guys, WHEW, in fact the TV Academy is gonna change their rules and issue you an honorary Emmy just for that brilliant feat alone!

Anyway, the Unsullied are all standing outside... well, I thought it was Casterly Rock but I guess it’s just outside the Red Keep? Bronn is running around giving orders even though he told Jaime last episode that he was peacing out, then he and Jaime have a super profound conversation about how the only thing worth fighting for is your dick. Gosh, Dave & Dan really outdone themselves this time!

Then they are somehow taken by surprise by the Dothraki suddenly being right on their doorstep, even though they’re high up on the battlements and shoulda seen that coming for at least a few miles but whatever.

Meanwhile, Dany’s ships make their way up the Blackwater, where Euron’s fleet is parked. Tyrion and Jon then have a little convo about city-livin’. Meanwhile, Sanford sneaks below decks and starts knocking on the crate containing the wight because he is an infant with no self-control. (Seriously, can someone please get him a goddamn fidget-spinner or a coloring book or something??)

In the RK, Cersei is giving a little pre-game pep talk to Gregor, telling him to just go ahead and kill everyone if something goes wrong, while Jaime looks on in... Confusion? Horror? Constipation? Not sure what exactly this look was supposed to be:

So Team North is making their way toward the Keep on foot while Jorah gives Missendei a history lesson about the dragonpit (we assume, since it’s never actually referred to by name) and they are soon met with Bronn followed by a team of Lannister soldiers as well as Pod and Brienne, who makes immediate eye-contact with Sandor. They follow Bronn up the trail and Pod has a little reunion with Tyrion that was almost heartfelt until Bronn moseys by and yells “Come on, you can suck his magic cock later!”

Speaking of reunions, Brienne lags back to fall in step with Sandor, who, shockingly, does not tell her to “fuck off”! She tells him she was only trying to protect Arya, and he says “You and me both.” She then reveals that she is alive and in Winterfell. He asks who is protecting her if she (Brienne) is here and Brienne says that the only one who needs protecting is the one who gets an Arya’s way, to which Sandor replies with a slight glint, “It won’t be me.” They exchange a knowing look.

So SIGH okay... if it weren’t for the fact that I am getting so thoroughly gypped on SanSan, I’d probably enjoy this scene a lot more. I’m not terribly mad that they didn’t bring up Sansa, only because Brienne has no knowledge of a pre-existing “relationship“ between her and Sandor, and I’m very happy that (a) Sandor was able to have a conversation with someone like a fucking grown-up for a change and (b) that he and Brienne have set aside their differences, because I ALWAYS wanted them to be allies (especially where Sansa is concerned). But knowing how much D&D prioritize Sandor’s relationship with Arya makes me instinctively begrudging of this scene... because we should have had at least ONE mention of Sansa in his presence this season ffs. Like, in this scene alone, why they hell couldn’t Jon have interrupted and been like “uhhhh what are you doing here, shouldn’t you be looking after Sansa at WF?” BOOM. It’s that fucking easy, folks. So, yeah, I guess I kinda love/hate this scene. (If we do end up getting SanSan in Season 8, I’ll happily revisit this scene with fresh perspective!)

Meanwhile, another riveting reunion between Tyrion and Bronn, where Tyrion reminds Bronn of his offer that he will pay double whatever Cersei’s paying him, and Bronn’s like ���nah I’m delivering a bunch of traitors to the Queen’s feet, the payout’s gonna be amazeballs!”

So they all arrive to the Main Stage and are just sorta milling around until Cersei gets there. While they’re waiting, Sandor rolls up on Tyrion and talking about how he left the city because he didn’t wanna die in it and ask if he’s actually gonna die in it. UM THEN WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN THERE??? Seriously, why was it so crucial for HIM to be there instead of, say, Tormund? Or Beric? Why didn’t Jon say, “yo, thanks for helping catch this wight, now I think your services would be more useful in Winterfell with my sisters” or something? Or why wouldn’t Sandor have volunteered to do that himself? Why wouldn’t he have 100% protested going back to King’s Landing, where he is a wanted man and where, but his own admission, he didn’t want to be because he didn’t want to die there?? UGH......

So anyway, Sandor blames Tyrion for him being there (uh, no) and says every bad idea seems to have a Lannister behind it, and Tyrion counters by saying every bad Lannister idea has a Clegane to help carry it out.

AND GUESS WHO SHOWS UP JUST AT THAT VERY MOMENT, YOU GUYS?? Yep, Gregor leads the Cersei party into the pit, and everybody’s eyeballin’ each other -- Cersei giving stankeye to Tyrion, Euron leering at Theon, Brienne tryna catch Jaime’s eye but he just totally breezing past her (rude!)...

Everyone takes their seats but first Sandor and Gregor need to beat their chests at each other for a bit.

Sandor points out that Gregor is “even uglier” than himself now and asks “What did they do to you?” And I couldn’t help but detect a slight note of pity in Sandor’s voice and on his face... which he actually has to “snap” himself out of. (I’m sure this was all Rory and not something D&D intended in the script.)

^^ That’s not the exact shot I’m talking about, but even here, it’s kind of hard to look at this and believe there’s just unbridled hate happening. RMC himself has stated that he doesn’t believe Sandor is full of hate anymore, and that seems evident in his performance during this scene. He delivers the lines which are clearly meant to seed “Cleganebowl” in such a way that makes it seem more like he’s saying “You’re a fucking shitperson but look at you now, you have no more power over me and you’re just kinda pathetic and I’m done.” That’s how it read to me, that’s how Rory made me feel in this scene despite the actual words they made him recite, and I’m sticking to it! ;-P

Anywayyyyyz, Sandor then disappears into the barracks below while everyone is now sitting around waiting for Dany. She finally makes her grand entrance on Drogon’s back, and everyone is in awe, including those who have seen the damn dragons before, all except Cersei, who could not look less impressed.

So, now that everyone is assembled for “Westeros’s Got Talent”, host Tyrion Lannister can now introduce---

Oops, nope, wait, first Euron has to pull his Drunk Uncle act and start taunting Theon. Tyrion’s like CAN WE PLEASE REMOVE THE HECKLERS and then Euron makes a joke about Tyrion’s height until finally Cersei's like SIT THE FUCK DOWN OR GET THE FUCK OUT.

So now Tyrion can begin his spiel, and eventually Jon jumps in to deliver the most motivational line ever: “This isn’t about living in harmony; it’s just about living.” Cool incentive, bro! He then explains that the million people living in KL are about to become soldiers in the Army of the Dead, and Cersei’s like “That would be an improvement for them!” HAHAHA SMALLFOLK SO DUMB AND USELESS AMIRITE??

Dany tells Cersei that she won’t make any moves against her until the Northern threat is dealt with and is only looking for a truce in the meantime, but Cersei “Blew Up a Sept To Steal The Throne” Lannister says she doesn’t trust the word of a would-be usurper lolololol.

Then Tyrion’s like “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, CHILDREN OF ALL AGES, MAY I PRESENT TO YOU... THE WHITE WALKER!!!!”

Cue Sandor lugging the crate up the steps and taking like an hour to open it. When he finally does, nothing happens, and it’s starting to get super awkward and Sandor’s like “psssst come on dude you’re embarrassing me!” before he finally just kicks over the crate. The wight goes buckwild and starts running straight toward Cersei but Sandor stops him just in time with a little chain leash (from the Sandra Bolton Collection™?). NOW we have Cersei’s attention!

Then it turns into the weirdest infomercial I’ve ever seen...

Are you tired of ORDINARY weapons that just WON’T give you the white walker-killing results you need? UGH! There has GOT to be a BETTER WAY!

Introducing the DragonGlass5000™!

It slices! It dices! It kills all those pesky white walkers INSTANTLY!

The patented forged-by-dragon-fire blades are so durable, they can cut through bones as easily as a tomato!

BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE!

If you act now, we’ll throw in an entire Northern army ABSOLUTELY FREE! (Just pay processing and handling.)

ORDER TODAY BEFORE THE ARMIES OF DARKNESS DESCEND UPON US ALL!

Of course Qyburn has a total necro-boner over all of this, while Euron “Will Make Ramsay Look Like a Puppy” Greyjoy is right SHOOK?? LOL okay... He asks Jon if they can swim and Jon says “it depends on the plot” no, and Euron’s like GOOD CUZ I AM GETTING THE FUCK OUTTA HERE WITH MY FLEET AND HOLING UP ON THE IRON ISLANDS CUZ I’M AFEEEAAARRRED!!! And he just leaves.

Anyway, Cersei’s like WELL I’M CONVINCED and accepts the truce, under the condition that the North remains neutral and doesn’t take up arms against the Lannisters ever. Which seems like a pretty reasonable deal but then Jon “Always Has To Ruin Everything” Snow is like NO DEAL CUZ DANY AND ME ALREADY GOIN’ STEADY. Cersei’s like “Okay cool then have fun with your zombie buddies, Lannister Out!”

As they’re leaving, someone pretending to be Brienne of Tarth tries to convince Jaime to talk to the Queen because “fuck loyalty!” and “honor” and “oaths”! Of course the person who abandoned Sansa in order to go revenge-kill Stannis and then suffer zero consequences from that decision would say such a thing... (Oh dear gods, Gwen, please PLEASE read the books....)

Dany and Tyrion then begin to berate Jon for not lying to Cersei, and Jon actually makes some valid points about how words stop having any meaning if people just keep lying and making false promises (am I watching the same show??). Finally Tyrion volunteers to go chitty-chat with Cersei...

Now, the fact that Cersei left the pit without immediately calling for the arrest of Tyrion and/or Sandor is rather preposterous. And before you say “but doing that woulda started an all-out war right then and there!”, let me remind you that Tyrion wouldn’t let Jon go and talk to Cersei because he was convinced Cersei would KILL him “for sure”.... Sooo obviously they didn’t think Cersei would be too concerned that pulling some bullshit would start more bullshit. And let’s be honest -- who would have really cared if she’d called for Sandor’s arrest? No one’s going to war over the Hound. :-/

So Tyrion goes to see Cersei, and Peter and Lena act their faces off, which is nice I guess if not for the stilted dialogue but they always manage to sell it. At one point, Tyrion triple-dog-dares Cersei to just go ahead and have him killed (Gregor’s body is ready!) but somehow she can’t bring herself to do it... Plot Armor is just too strong! Tyrion insists he’s still pro-Lannister and Cersei’s asks then why the hell is he working with Dany and he says he believes she’ll make the world a better place (with his sage guidance). He then soon figures out that she’s pregnant but only because she’s been rubbing her belly and wiggling her eyebrows up and down at him for the last 15 minutes...

Meanwhile, in the dragonpit, Team North is just kicking rocks (or animal bones) while Dany and Jon talk about dragons and shit and at some point she mentions how she can’t have kids, and Jon asks who told her, and she says “the witch who killed my husband” -- which, if I’m not mistaken, never actually happened on the show? Seriously, can’t these guys hire a fucking continuity supervisor or something who can be like “yo that never happened in previous seasons??” I mean, not that they’d ever listen to him... So, nevermind I guess.

Anyway, the best part of this scene is the rest of the characters literally just wandering aimlessly in the background.

So then Tyrion comes moping back into the pit to deliver the news, but before he can say anything, Cersei and her posse comes stomping the runway once more and she announces that she’s sending all her peeps north with them and that she hopes that they remember how nice she was once the war is over (mmm-hmmmmm)...

Meanwhile in Winterhell, Sansa has received a raven from Jon telling her he’s pledged allegiance to Dany and of course she’s annoyed af, and of course LF is right there next to her like “Oh my GOD I cannot BELIEVE he did that to you what a DICK!!” and also of course suggests that Sansa could reclaim her claim if Jon decides to go kick it with Dany on the reg, but Sansa says Arya would probably kill her for that. Then LF starts laying down his step-by-step scientific method for figuring out what someone wants and suggests Sansa use it on Arya, which leads them both to the laughable conclusion that Arya herself wants to be Lady of Winterfell. Yeah, sure, the girl who specifically stated in the first season that she didn’t want to be a lady AT ALL... wants to rule Winterfell. Gold stars all around, geniuses!!

Team North is back on Dragonstone plotting their next move. Jon wants Dany to sail with him to White Harbor as opposed to Jorah’s idea that she fly there herself because it’s safer. Buuuut we already know how this goes, don’t we? Dany of course takes Jon’s suggestion.

Later on, Jon and Theon have a heart-to-heart which SEEMED like it was going in the direction of Theon declaring that he always considered the Starks more like his family than the Greyjoys and that he wanted to atone for betraying Robb by fighting for Jon’s cause but AHHHHHAHAHA PSYCHE he’s totally choosing his abusers! Hooray! With that, he tries to catch a ride back to KL to rescue Yara and gets the shit beat out of him in one of the most disgusting scenes I’ve ever seen on this show, where Theon has to “prove his worth” by learning how to be violent again. Awesome. It all culminates in a truly reprehensible moment where he is kicked between the legs but.... it doesn’t have any effect?? For some reason?? I’m no goddamn expert but I am pretty sure a swift knee to the groin would hurt like hell whether you have a penis or not. Wow, a new low even for D&D....

Back at Winterhell, Sansa is standing out on the battlements looking very introspective, then she tells a random guard to bring Arya to the Great Hall.

Cut to the Great Hall, where Sansa and Bran are seated up front and the rest of the room seems to be populated only by LF, Yohn Royce, and soldiers... meaning, no Northern Lords present. An important detail to keep in mind... Anyway, Arya is brought before Sansa and Sansa starts rattling off a list of charges. “How do you respond to these charges.... LORD BAELISH??”

LF is like WHO, ME?? And Sansa pulls out ALL the receipts, starting with Lysa, then the letter she wrote to Cat, then LF betraying Ned. LF’s all YOU WEREN’T THERE YOU CAN’T PROVE A THING to which Miss Cleo decides to pipe in recall how LF put a knife to Ned’s throat and whatnot, which everyone just IMMEDIATELY buys without question.

(gosh, if only there was someone who HAD been there and witnessed it firsthand and could have provided concrete evidence in lieu of having to call the Psychic Friends Network for verification...)

Sansa repeatedly asks LF if he denies these charges and LF repeatedly responds YES but apparently it’s just a rhetorical question? Sansa thanks LF for all the lessons and gives Arya the go to slice his throat open. The End.

Sooooo. Yeah. Much like the Sandor/Brienne scene, I have a complicated love/hate relationship with this scene. For starters the GIGANTIC ASS-PULL it required to get here. Apparently D&D would like us to believe that, thanks to Bran, Sansa and Arya have been in possession of this information for some time now, and I guess they want us to also believe that Arya’s threats to kill Sansa were just a ruse (which they were BOTH in on) in order to lead on LF?? Huh? First of all, WHY? What could POSSIBLY have been the point?? How the fuck did that conversation go??

Bran: “LF totally betrayed Dad.”

Sansa: “Really? Holy shit, we need to execute his ass immediately.”

Arya: “No, wait! I have an even BETTER idea! Let’s make him think we want to kill each other first!”

Sansa: “OMG brilliant!”

???????????????????????

And then they proceed to threaten each other BEHIND CLOSED DOORS?? THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY FUCKING SENSE. If this is truly what we are meant to believe, then they should have given us some indication that LF WAS DIRECTLY AWARE of their fighting, either by showing one of his little spies scurrying out of the woodwork after one of Sansa & Arya’s confrontations, or show LF himself observing nearby. Then we could at least buy that Sansa and Arya were putting on a show for him. But Sansa was SEARCHING ARYA’S ROOM IN SECRET and Arya CLOSED THE DOOR BEHIND HER when she threatened to cut Sansa’s face off! GIVE ME A MOTHERDUCKING BREAK.

A more likely scenario, of course, is that Arya really DID mean all those threats, and they both only became aware of what was happening very recently thanks to Bran. BUT THAT STILL MEANS THAT ARYA FUCKING THREATENED TO KILL HER SISTER. That also means that both of them were too stupid to realize for themselves that LF was playing them and needed Dionne Warwick to clue them in.

Then we get to the way in which LF’s execution was... executed. Soooo I guess this is what the Starks do now? Just murder people willy-nilly without any sort of due process? Much like Ramsay, this felt more like personal vengeance than actual justice. As I mentioned above, no other Northern Lords were present, LF repeatedly denied the charges, but Sansa was just like “Well too bad, DIE!” Aside from Lysa’s death, the only “evidence” they had for the other charges was a kid who talks to trees. Pretty sure that wouldn’t hold up in a trial... which I guess is why they kept the Northern Lords out of this altogether. They never even mentioned how LF conspired with the Tyrells to kill Joffrey -- something he ADMITTED to Sansa. He ADMITTED to conspiracy to commit regicide. This, along with the murder was Lysa, is something he could actually be charged with a crime for. But because the victim was someone Sansa hated anyway, it didn’t “count”. Which proves that none of this was actually about justice; it was vengeance.

Let’s also remember that Sansa finding out that Littlefinger betrayed her father HAPPENED OFF-SCREEN. D&D prioritized a GOTCHA! moment over getting to see Sansa’s reaction to finding out that the man she’s spent the last 4 seasons with was responsible for her father’s death, to see how she came to the conclusion that this was the final straw and that he needed to be dealt with. It’s a moment we've been waiting 7 SEASONS FOR. I don’t know about you, but I would have rather seen that ANY DAY instead of this lame, contrived “ruse” she and Arya cooked up. Because I care more about seeing Sansa learn the truth than I am about seeing Littlefinger get his throat cut. (It’s a very close second though...)

So... yay, Littlefinger’s dead, I guess. And bravo to Sansa for not SMIRKING about it afterwards. But leave it to D&D to make one of the most anticipated moments of the entire series just completely “meh”.

^^^ how one SHOULD look after sentencing a man to death

Down in KL, Cersei finds Jaime planning the expedition north and she’s like “You idiot, we’re not going North.” Of course he’s like BITCH WHAT THE HELL?? He tells her (AGAIN) that they cannot beat Dany & Jon’s combined forces alone, and their only option is to join or die. Cersei again brings up the damn Golden Company and seemed pretty convinced that that (along with sweet sweet ca$h) is their ticket to victory. She then reveals that the real reason Euron left in the middle of the white walker infomercial was because he’s sailing to Essos to recruit the GC. Jaime’s like

But Cersei’s like “yeah well you kiki’d with Tyrion without telling me so we’re even!” But Jaime’s like LOOK BITCH I pledged to go North and that’s what Imma do, which Cersei calls treason. Jaime’s like GURL BYE but he’s intercepted by Gregor. He’s like “oh what you gonna KILL ME now? I’m all you have left!” But Cersei’s like “eh, not really” so Jaime’s like “Then do it, hoe.” She’s REALLY close too but he calls her bluff and struts away. On what freaking planet does Cersei come closer to having JAIME killed than Tyrion???

Last we see Jaime, he’s riding North, presumably by himself.

In Winterfell, Sam and Gilly show up, which answers the question from 2 weeks ago: “Did Sam abandon the Night’s Watch?” LOL why yes, yes he did. He immediately goes to see Bran and then it’s STORYTIME! Gather round, everybody, to hear this tale of how D&D completely screwed the pooch on Jon’s parentage!

See, once upon a time, there was completely Unproblematic White Boy named Rhaegar, a Crown Prince who had a PoC wife named Elia and two kids named Aegon and Rhaenys. You may remember them as the SOLE REASON OBERYN MARTELL CAME TO KING’S LANDING IN SEASON 4.

For reasons unexplained other than TWOO WUV, Rhaegar left his wife and two children, somehow convinced a septon to issue an annulment behind their backs, effectively making their children/heirs into bastards, and then secretly married Lyanna Stark and had another baby with her, whom he also named Aegon(????), simply because “he loved her.” Yep, that’s it. No prophecies, no ambiguity whatsoever... Just a dude who wanted to get his fuck on with another lady, and “Robert’s Rebellion was built on a lie”.

Except Robert’s Rebellion was actually built on the fact that the King murdered one of his feudal lords and his son in cold blood when they appealed to him to make Rhaegar answer for absconding with their daughter & sister. Not an unreasonable request???? Since she was only 15 and betrothed to someone else??

So while Bran is spinning the yarn of The Princess Bride II, we see him in a garden watching as Rhaegar & Lyanna are tying the knot (literally), and I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY’RE SO CHEAP THEY COULDN’T GET RHAEGAR A DIFFERENT WIG AND HAD TO USE VISERYS’S INSTEAD.

And while we’re literally being told how Jon and Dany are related, we are treated to the much-anticipated #BOATSEX! Which was... less two people fucking and more two people planking?? It was literally just two naked people laying on top of each other. It made me... UN-horny??

And thus ends the second consecutive season learning about Jon’s parentage. We’ll call this a Mulligan after last year’s muck-up I guess...

Oh but there’s just one more thing.... Over at Eastwatch, Tormund and Beric are (literally) chillin’ when all of a sudden LOOKEE WHO FINALLY SHOWED UP AFTER 3 SEASONS?? And they brought a new friend -- a blue flame-shootin’ undead dragon (which holes in his wings for some reason?) ready for Demo Day on Extreme Makeover: The Wall Edition. Maybe they should have built a giant moat instead...?

Until next season!!!