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Game of Thrones - The Return
Written for the Rare Pairs Challenge at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1_million_words
Title: The Return
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Pairing: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark (not really a "rare pair", but rare to me & for the purposes of the challenge, that's what works)
Rating: Teen (language only)
Word Count: 1006
Prompts: Long prompt 3 - "Don't look at me like that!" and short prompt 90 - knees
Summary: The Hound was brought back from the dead after his fight with the Mountain and heads toward Winterfell
Apparently the bloody Lord of Light hadn’t finished with him, Sandor grumbled to himself as he walked out of the flames. He was singed, but another set of scars on a face like his wouldn’t make a difference. The city around him was decimated, scarred and fallen like he had felt. One would think that being reborn was akin to being renewed, but that Cunt had a vicious sense of humor. Then again, if Beric got any better looking for all of the lives he had lived, he must have started very rough.
It appeared that there was no place left here for Sandor to serve, and he wasn’t buying what the Dragon Queen was selling, so he set out for the one place where he might be welcomed- Winterfell.
The going wasn’t easy- the horse he’d brought into town had long run off, so he had to make the journey on foot. He thought of the young Stark girl and whispered a word of gratitude to her for getting rid of those undead bastards. He’d have better odds against common thieves, should he run into them than the Army of the Dead.
He didn’t know how many days he’d walked until he saw the gates of Winterfell before him. He never thought the North was anywhere he’d want to be, but…
The North had her.
Sansa Stark.
He knew she would be here. No matter what else happened. No matter who was leader of the Seven Kingdoms, his Little Bird would be here, more than likely with her sister and that giant of a woman lending their aid and protection.
He moved a little faster at the thought of seeing her again.
The sentry at the gate took one look at him and refused admittance. Sandor shook his head and then shoved the lad aside.
“Death hasn’t changed you, I see,” the soft feminine voice floated down to him. “Stand down, William,” she called to the sentry.
“Yes, my Queen,” answered William, brushing dirt from his clothing as he stood.
Sandor walked past him toward the titian-haired woman. “You’ve made it, I see,” he said.
“I have,” she responded with a soft smile. “Come inside.”
He entered the castle without hesitation, waiting within the entrance for her to appear. He looked around. Winterfell looked different without hundreds of men in armor milling around. It was more serene, suiting its leader perfectly.
She descended the stairs, allowing him a moment to take her in- Little Bird no more, but the Queen she was born to be in her stead.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said.
“Like what?” he responded.
“Like you want to lock me away from it all.”
“Lit-“ he began, but was stayed by her look. “Lady-“ another look. “Sansa,” this time the look was accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “My Queen,” he said and as soon as the words were out, he knew he was in trouble. “I don’t think I could look at you any other way. Where is your sister?”
“Are you here for business with her?”
“No, my…”
“Oh, shove the title, Hound, and tell me what you want with my sister.”
He breathed a little easier now that she wasn’t holding him to formalities. He didn’t want her to see how much her title affected him. “Nothing,” he responded. “Just expected to see her here protecting you.”
“You don’t think I could handle myself?”
“Is the Maid of Tarth here with you?”
“She protects the King of the Six Kingdoms.”
King? Six Kingdoms? How long was he dead? “Who looks after you?”
“I look after myself, but I have an army pledged to protect Winterfell and my wards in the North.”
“So that’s no one then.”
“I have an-“
“I know what you have, Little Bird, and that’s not what you need. Unless you’re going to pull the Kingslayer out from under a rock somewhere.”
“Jaime Lannister is dead.”
“Well, that settles it. The bloody Lord of Light brought me back for something. It must have been you.”
“I don’t even pray to the bloody Lord of Light!”
“I don’t either, but I don’t think He’d appreciate you cursing when you say His name.”
“You just did!”
“Yes, but He knows I’m a bastard and still brought me back. I am to protect you.”
“You’re addled!”
“Aye, but I’ll die for you.”
She stared at him for a long time. He didn’t know what it was about him that warranted such close scrutiny, but it unnerved him. A soft smile tinged her lips. “It won’t do if you shrink under my gaze like that.”
“Well, then, don’t look at me like that!” He couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the damned little bird and you’re a cat about to pounce.”
She laughed.
“It wasn’t meant to be a compliment.”
She took his arm and led him into the dining hall. “It is wonderful to see you, Hound. Sandor,” she corrected, and hearing his name on her lips gave him the first bit of warmth he felt since walking out of that fire all those moons ago. “Or would you prefer Ser Clegane?”
“Never cared for that knighthood crap. I’ll be close enough, Little Bird, that you won’t have to worry about being formal. Just a look or a nod will suffice.”
“You realize that as a sign to my banner men, you will need to bend the knee.”
Sandor didn’t smile often, but her pronouncement made him laugh out loud.
“I don’t think there’s anything funny about that request.”
“There isn’t.”
“Will you?”
“Aye, my Queen.”
Sansa seemed to let out the breath she’d been holding. Sandor didn’t dare tell her about how often he’d dreamed about being on his knees in front of her.
In an entirely different context and with a lot less clothing between them, of course.
Time would tell, but maybe the Lord of Light had actually done him a favor by bringing him back to life.
1_million_wordsTitle: The Return
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Pairing: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark (not really a "rare pair", but rare to me & for the purposes of the challenge, that's what works)
Rating: Teen (language only)
Word Count: 1006
Prompts: Long prompt 3 - "Don't look at me like that!" and short prompt 90 - knees
Summary: The Hound was brought back from the dead after his fight with the Mountain and heads toward Winterfell
Apparently the bloody Lord of Light hadn’t finished with him, Sandor grumbled to himself as he walked out of the flames. He was singed, but another set of scars on a face like his wouldn’t make a difference. The city around him was decimated, scarred and fallen like he had felt. One would think that being reborn was akin to being renewed, but that Cunt had a vicious sense of humor. Then again, if Beric got any better looking for all of the lives he had lived, he must have started very rough.
It appeared that there was no place left here for Sandor to serve, and he wasn’t buying what the Dragon Queen was selling, so he set out for the one place where he might be welcomed- Winterfell.
The going wasn’t easy- the horse he’d brought into town had long run off, so he had to make the journey on foot. He thought of the young Stark girl and whispered a word of gratitude to her for getting rid of those undead bastards. He’d have better odds against common thieves, should he run into them than the Army of the Dead.
He didn’t know how many days he’d walked until he saw the gates of Winterfell before him. He never thought the North was anywhere he’d want to be, but…
The North had her.
Sansa Stark.
He knew she would be here. No matter what else happened. No matter who was leader of the Seven Kingdoms, his Little Bird would be here, more than likely with her sister and that giant of a woman lending their aid and protection.
He moved a little faster at the thought of seeing her again.
The sentry at the gate took one look at him and refused admittance. Sandor shook his head and then shoved the lad aside.
“Death hasn’t changed you, I see,” the soft feminine voice floated down to him. “Stand down, William,” she called to the sentry.
“Yes, my Queen,” answered William, brushing dirt from his clothing as he stood.
Sandor walked past him toward the titian-haired woman. “You’ve made it, I see,” he said.
“I have,” she responded with a soft smile. “Come inside.”
He entered the castle without hesitation, waiting within the entrance for her to appear. He looked around. Winterfell looked different without hundreds of men in armor milling around. It was more serene, suiting its leader perfectly.
She descended the stairs, allowing him a moment to take her in- Little Bird no more, but the Queen she was born to be in her stead.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said.
“Like what?” he responded.
“Like you want to lock me away from it all.”
“Lit-“ he began, but was stayed by her look. “Lady-“ another look. “Sansa,” this time the look was accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “My Queen,” he said and as soon as the words were out, he knew he was in trouble. “I don’t think I could look at you any other way. Where is your sister?”
“Are you here for business with her?”
“No, my…”
“Oh, shove the title, Hound, and tell me what you want with my sister.”
He breathed a little easier now that she wasn’t holding him to formalities. He didn’t want her to see how much her title affected him. “Nothing,” he responded. “Just expected to see her here protecting you.”
“You don’t think I could handle myself?”
“Is the Maid of Tarth here with you?”
“She protects the King of the Six Kingdoms.”
King? Six Kingdoms? How long was he dead? “Who looks after you?”
“I look after myself, but I have an army pledged to protect Winterfell and my wards in the North.”
“So that’s no one then.”
“I have an-“
“I know what you have, Little Bird, and that’s not what you need. Unless you’re going to pull the Kingslayer out from under a rock somewhere.”
“Jaime Lannister is dead.”
“Well, that settles it. The bloody Lord of Light brought me back for something. It must have been you.”
“I don’t even pray to the bloody Lord of Light!”
“I don’t either, but I don’t think He’d appreciate you cursing when you say His name.”
“You just did!”
“Yes, but He knows I’m a bastard and still brought me back. I am to protect you.”
“You’re addled!”
“Aye, but I’ll die for you.”
She stared at him for a long time. He didn’t know what it was about him that warranted such close scrutiny, but it unnerved him. A soft smile tinged her lips. “It won’t do if you shrink under my gaze like that.”
“Well, then, don’t look at me like that!” He couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the damned little bird and you’re a cat about to pounce.”
She laughed.
“It wasn’t meant to be a compliment.”
She took his arm and led him into the dining hall. “It is wonderful to see you, Hound. Sandor,” she corrected, and hearing his name on her lips gave him the first bit of warmth he felt since walking out of that fire all those moons ago. “Or would you prefer Ser Clegane?”
“Never cared for that knighthood crap. I’ll be close enough, Little Bird, that you won’t have to worry about being formal. Just a look or a nod will suffice.”
“You realize that as a sign to my banner men, you will need to bend the knee.”
Sandor didn’t smile often, but her pronouncement made him laugh out loud.
“I don’t think there’s anything funny about that request.”
“There isn’t.”
“Will you?”
“Aye, my Queen.”
Sansa seemed to let out the breath she’d been holding. Sandor didn’t dare tell her about how often he’d dreamed about being on his knees in front of her.
In an entirely different context and with a lot less clothing between them, of course.
Time would tell, but maybe the Lord of Light had actually done him a favor by bringing him back to life.