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#the hound and the little bird
bighound-littlebird · 8 months
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"The northern girl. Winterfell’s daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window."
The Hound poured a cup of wine for Arya and another for himself, and drank it down while staring at the hearthfire.
“The little bird flew away, did she? Well, bloody good for her. She shit on the Imp’s head and flew off.”
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anya-draws-stuff · 1 year
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Here's a few SanSan sketches I slapped some colour on. It's actually a bit of a sketch dump.
Since I'm currently working on a comission (also a SanSan piece btw), I didn't have the time yet to finish any of these, but I will...at some point. :-)
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mybworlds · 4 months
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Chapter 8: My duty is to bring you home
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Pairing: The Hound x Sansa Stark
Summary: Sandor has a fever, Sansa takes care of him. Something, very slowly, starts to change... and a terrible danger loom over the Starks.
Chapter Warnings: language, use of pet names
Masterlist
Before to start... thank you to follow me, if you want to be tagged in the next chapters, please let me know! if you want to ask me smt, you can write down here or you can inbox me. Please remember English is not my first language.
Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner
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A dense fog hanging on them and Stranger was forced to slow his pace, the Hound covered Sansa with the cloak she had previously returned to him "What about you?" asked Sansa, letting the warmth of the man's cloak envelop her. "I'm fine." he replied using a confident tone of voice. Sansa watched the ground around them turn grayish, then it began to rain, and the Hound spurred his horse again to quicken its gallop and lead them to shelter somewhere. Stranger stopped after what seemed to Sansa like hours in a cave, the Hound was soaked, his long dark hair was stuck to his forehead and cheeks, the rain soaked his armor, soaking him down to the tunic he wore beneath his armor. Sansa was soaked too, she knew what to do: fire would be enough to dry them.
Someone had been in that cave before because Sansa found some wood that had been left there and had not been consumed: her father had once shown her how servants lit the giant fireplace in Winterfell, surely, however, she never imagined that she would have to put into practice what her beloved parent had taught her a long time ago! The fire was lit and Sansa saw Sandor jerk and take refuge in a dark corner of the cave, away from the fire. Sansa invited him several times, but the Hound was adamant, "Better to freeze to death than to be near the fire!" Sansa didn't insist; she didn't want the man to send her to hell. The young woman warmed up in the blink of an eye and her hair and clothes dried quickly, while Clegane began to cough. She turned worriedly to him and looked at him: he was shaking.
Stubborn!
"Please come over here," she tried again. The man leaned against the rock wall and began to breathe heavily. "You don't have to be near the fire, but just enough to feel its warmth, you'll feel better," she tried again softly. "The fire did this to me!" he reminded her, "I've felt its bloody heat enough!" "But you'll freeze to death!" she reminded him. He laughed softly "Is the little bird afraid for a dog? That would be a first." "Please." she tried again, but Sandor didn't move, so it was Sansa who went to him, took off her cloak again and placed it on his shoulders; he seemed to relax in contact with that warmth "Have you seen how beautiful he is?" the young woman asked. "Stop worrying so much about me," he admonished her, "Nobody worries about a dog." "You are not a dog, you are … a man … good, even if you do your best to hide it, I know you have a noble soul." "No, please don't bring up the knight bullshit now! I'm not one of them." "I know, but what if you are not the knight of the ballads, but a wounded and brave man? Does that make you less valiant? In my eyes you have so much courage, you lack in grace, but you are endowed with a great spirit just like the knights." said Sansa to him.
It was not properly Lady-like what she said, but the manners she had learned were beginning to fail; in truth everything she had learned had proved useless to her, everything she had yearned for up to that point had turned out to be a golden sham. Sandor looked at her, his eyes were shining: he had a fever.
"That's some good shit you're talking, little bird," he told her with a grin. She lowered her head for a moment, "I believe-- you are much more than what you insist on showing and I-- am worth much less than a bird in its cage." she said in a sigh. The man then told her, "It's what you do that shows who you are or have become. Not the pretty words, not the pretty clothes, not the castles, only the actions count whether they are disgusting or beautiful: it only defines who does them." Sansa looked at him, then cleared her throat and said, "Now sleep, you have been--" she wanted to tell him brave, but she merely smiled softly at him, he didn't smile, but his eyes spoke for him and they were not rebuking those words nor were they derisive toward that tender smile, they were - Sansa noticed for the first time - calm. "Got it." he said simply and then closed his eyes and relaxed completely.
Sansa felt profoundly confused all of a sudden, Sandor Clegane's words had always been loaded with contempt, hard to accept and hard to hear, but for some reason his words were gradually becoming less and less unacceptable and becoming truth in the eyes of the girl and to her ears: her life had always been made up of so many labels, so many beautiful stories, sumptuous dresses and complicated hairstyles, and she had long believed her whole life would be made up of this, believed her life would be to fall in love with a beautiful prince with hair of gold and she dreamt of marry him and being carried off on a white horse to his magnificent and imposing castle where everyone would bow down to her, her regal ways and her beauty. Life, however, had other things in store for her: her handsome prince was not there; she had imagined him, idealized him and hoped that love for her would change him, but instead he had turned into a beast; he was handsome, regal, but a monster. She should have married a monster. That should have been her life: to remain at the mercy of her king as long as it pleased him, then she would mean nothing more in the prince's life. One day, however, a man disguised as a beast reminded her that all the ceremonies she insisted on performing were a bunch of nonsense, and if he pained her at first, then she could do nothing but realize how right he was.
Suddenly a groan and words that she didn't even understand roused her from her musings and she turned around: the Hound, who had seemed invincible to her and above all a man whom nothing could ever bring down, was running a high fever. Sansa had never cured anyone before, she had seen a couple of times how Master Luwin had done to bring the temperature down, but he also had potions; potions that Sansa didn't have. She did what she remembered: she tore off a flap of her already threadbare garment and soaked it in a pool of water the rain had formed near the cave, then placed it on the man's forehead, shaking out his hair. "Seven hells!" he shouted wincing "Stark!" she spat opening his eyes "As soon as I feel better I'll break your hands!" he threatened her, but Sansa was used to the Hound's utterly ungainly manner of posturing by now. "You're welcome." she told him simply while he turned a reproachful gaze on her and closed his eyes again, Sansa interpreted this as a gesture of trust on his part and so dipped several more times more flaps of her dress in the water and passed it over his forehead, over his eyelids, then over his neck and wrists.
Sandor opened his eyes from time to time and watched the little girl take so much trouble for him, observed her delicate movements, watched her at first warily as if he suspected that the little girl might take a dagger from his belt and stab him, then with curiosity when he noticed her care was continuing, and finally with gratitude. They crossed their eyes many times, but said nothing to each other, what made the noise was the crackling of the fire and the rain that still did not cease to batter the rock and the expanses of grass around them. "Why don't you run away?" he asked her when his eyes began to burn less. She looked at him puzzled "And where should I go?" "To your home." he answered her in an obvious tone. "You are taking me there." she objected with equal obviousness "What reason would I have to run away? You have not harmed me, you are protecting me," she resumed. "I spend half the time treating you badly, I'm giving you a thousand reasons to run away. Why don't you?" he asked again. "I wouldn't know where to go without you, Sandor," she replied, calling him by his name for the first time. "You could maybe meet one of those faggots you like so much!" he blurted out. "I want to be with you." she replied decisively, surprising herself with what she said and astonishing Clegane himself, who looked at her almost as if he found a fool sitting next to him. "No one wants to be with a dog." Sansa gently took his hand, wrapping it between her own "Indeed, I want to be with you, Sandor, not with the Hound. It's just a mask the Hound's, I'm getting to know you by now, you know."
Sandor didn't know why, but to be called by his name and to be treated with such gentleness caused him a shiver and a feeling of sudden peace. He was doing something good for someone at last! His life therefore was not all about biting, tearing and killing, maybe there was a glimmer he could hold on to, maybe this glimmer was the little Stark girl beside him. "Thank you."
Did he really say that? Did he, Sandor Clegane, really said thank you to someone who was not him?
That word puzzled him and it must have surprised her as well because she looked at him for several seconds, her lips parted before smiling at him and saying, "You're welcome." barely tightening her grip on his big hand. Sandor squeezed her hand as best he could. It must have been the fever making his head spin, making his heart beat faster and making him say those words that until a very short time before seemed empty and useless to him. Yes, it was definitely his damn fever!
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His fever began to be less and Sandor was able to rest decently, dreaming of nothing. It had not been a while since he had dreamed of his brother, his cold, hate-filled gaze, his hands holding him against the burning embers, that smell of burning flesh, his flesh slowly melting, his screams.
Sandor slowly opened his eyes again and saw that the rain stopped, the Sun was shining again. He looked around and saw the little bird sleeping, sat up slowly and observed her: her hair had fallen back in a small part on her barely flushed angelic face, she was sleeping on her side clutching in her little hand a very small wolf-shaped pendant, almost as if she wanted to remember her origins, who she was. Sandor in a fit of tenderness - tenderness he did not even think he had - staggered barely up to her and sat down next to her, he watched her for a long time and intensely: his heart would not stop beating wildly, damn fever, when would it pass completely? He moved the lock of hair that fell back on her face and Sansa stirred in her sleep, Sandor lifted his hand, he didn't want the little girl to see him leaning over her and get any ideas! He turned away from her and walked to the entrance of the cave, looked up at the Sun high in the sky and told himself it was time to wake her up and get on the road again: that closeness to the Stark was not good for him at all! He was the Hound, a dog loyal to his master, but still a dog ready to bite, tear, kill, break whoever he wanted, it would not be that innocent creature that would push him off course!
When Sansa opened her eyes again she saw the man standing peering outside: the Sun was high and making the grass and rocks outside glow. Sansa smiled, she hadn't smiled like that in a while, and it wasn't just because of the beautiful weather she felt so calm, but she was also happy to see her guide feeling better, she was happy to know the man who was doing everything he could to look like a beast was back in force. "Good morning!" she greeted him, and Sandor jumped, lightning-quickly drawing his dagger from his belt "By the Seven Hells, don't do it again!" he exclaimed, holstering his weapon. Sansa chuckled as she looked at the Hound "How are you?" she asked looking him straight in the eye. "Fine." he replied simply "Though I think the fever has not left me entirely." he added in a gruff tone. "May I touch?" He turned toward her, assuming a puzzled expression that grotesquely contracted the burned part of his face; she, however, no longer felt revulsion toward that pinkish flesh consumed by fire, but only a great and deep tenderness.
Where did this feeling come from?
Both knew that what they might feel would melt like snow with the first warmer rays of the Sun, and so neither told the other what was really beginning to animate their souls, neither had the courage or the strength. Both were afraid. In different ways: the fear of being called a fool by her was stronger than admitting what was now becoming clearer in Sandor Clegane every second and she feared that he would laugh in her face if she told him that she was beginning to feel tenderness, understanding and affection for him.
Sansa reached out her hand to the man's unblemished cheek and then brushed his forehead; he was hot, but no longer burning as much as last night; he was better. "I didn't know you also meant healing, little bird." he told her when they found themselves marching on Stranger, she told him how she knew what to do with him, told him briefly of the fevers that had struck her brothers when she was a child, and he didn't growl at hearing her speak, for the truth - and perhaps for the first time - he listened to her without thinking about how many useless chirps she uttered, listened to her every word but never became too distracted: every creak, every falling stone, every pattering could indicate the presence of a potential enemy.
They rode for many leagues then came to a small village not far from Pinkmaiden, located south of Riverrun, whose castle, Sansa recalled, was among the largest in the southwestern part of the Riverlands. There, they stopped to water their horse and it was there, in a tavern, the two heard of Stannis Baratheon's defeat and only Tywin Lannister's arrival in King's Landing had prevented his ultimate defeat. Sansa shuddered and the Hound noticed because he told her, "Don't be afraid, if some fucking Lannister dares to touch you, he'll find himself without a hand or an arm before the sun goes down!" She smiled, she knew he was capable of it, and returned him a knowing look.
"Edmure Tully is going to marry a Frey." said a plump man to a small group of wayfarers seated at a table, and Sansa could not help but turn away upon hearing her uncle's name, Sandor placed a hand on hers and reminded her she should not react in any way upon hearing the Starks' or the Tullys' name or their escape would quickly be over. "The Boltons and Lannisters will give the Young Wolf the slip!" exclaimed another. This last sentence deeply alarmed Sansa.
"We should go to the Twins," Sansa suggested once they were away from the village. "We will go to Winterfell. I have to take you there," retorted Sandor. "But my mother and brother Robb are to the Twins! There is no one in Winterfell!" "Little girl, my duty is to take you to your own land, not to leave you among the Freys!" "Yes, you're right. My mother and brother are there, though; we have to warn them! They are in danger!" he exclaimed insisting. "They'll have an army, won't they? What's the point of us going there?" Sandor replied annoyed. "Of course they will have an army, and you will be well rewarded for your service," Sansa told him, looking him straight in the eye "Think of how much gold you could have!" He laughed "I see what you're playing at, little girl, but now gold or no gold, I'm also in charge of getting you home…" "I know what your intentions are, thank you. I really do. But if we don't help them, I will have no home or family to return to. Please." Sansa pleaded, looking long into his eyes, Sandor huffed, "All right. In a few days we should reach them." They were about to set out again and get back on the pitch-black steed when some armed men emerged from bushes and trees with snarling dogs in their wake, the Hound was caught off guard as someone knocked him to his knees, someone hit Sansa in the back of the head and she lost consciousness.
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hello-nichya-here · 2 years
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I know you said that Littlefinger isn't expecting Sandor to steal Sansa away from him, but I'm kinda worried this is just because Sandor isn't trying to do it yet and that once he meets Sansa again Littlefinger will be ready for it
That is a natural concern, but we cannot forget that Sandor and Sansa's friendship was practically a secret. Let's take a look at what Littlefinger knows:
1 - Sandor is a big, scary, disfigured, mean guy who has frightened Sansa more than once. Sansa, the girl who likes everything nice, perfect, and pretty, also refused to sleep with Tyrion, who is constantly described as ugly, even though that was her "duty" as his wife.
2 - Sansa, even as a hostage and "traitor", was seen as worthy of marrying Tyrells, Lannisters, and even the king himself, because house Stark is just the important. House Clegane meanwhile, is only "relevant" to the Lannisters, barely. Sandor is so dehumanized, people constantly call him a dog.
3 - Sandor saved her life - but she is the king's future wife, and a valluable hostage to his bosses. He did this because it's his job, not because he cares about her, riiiiight? He is the hound! He is the king's dog! He said so himself!
4 - Sandor is attracted to Sansa. Big deal, every guy ever thinks she is hot. Sandor never made any move on her and only gets his dick wet by going to brothels. He knows better than to make a move a noble woman, who was supposed to marry the king.
5 - Sansa was nice to him, but Sansa is nice to everybody. Her safety literally depends on it. Of course she's always polite to one of the scariest men of the seven kingdoms.
6 - Sandor left solely because he was in a battle with a ton of people being burned alive and with water not doing shit to control the flames, and since he was badly burned before, that freaked him the fuck out. No other reason. None.
7 - Sansa never so much as said Sandor's name after he left.
8 - Sandor is now either dead or raping and killing people somewhere else. Either way, he doesn't matter.
Imagine you're Littlefinger and want to make sure Sansa never turns against you. Would the guy mentioned above EVER look like a threat to you? Of course not.
He has no idea that:
1 - Sansa is attracted to Sandor even though he is "ugly" and had zero problem calling him out of being a dick, to his face, multiple times.
2 - Sansa is deeply upset that every suitor of hers only wants her because she is a Stark. She wants someone who loves her.
3 - Sandor saved her life multiple times, and even lied to the Lannisters for her. He even listed not being able to protect her as one of the reasons why he deserves to die.
4 - Sandor has made some inappropriate comments towards Sansa when he was drunk, and even tried to kiss her once, which led to her imaging said kiss, being convinced that it actually happened, and dreaming of him in her wedding bed, saying he'd "have a song from her." Despite that, he never forced himself on her, which made her feel safer and less uncomfortable around him than any other man - Littlefinger very much included, because he gave her the creeps on their first damn interaction.
5 - Sansa is the only person Sandor has ever told his secret to, she comforted him after hearing about his childhood trauma, and her kindness meant so much to him that he cried TWICE. She has forgiven him for every shitty behavior he had, and even wonders if she should have left with him because, surprise surprise, she wasn't nice to Sandor just because she had to, but because she liked him.
6 - Sandor didn't immediately leave when he had a PTSD episode - he tried to be Sansa's knight in shinning armor, and he keeps on talking about her all the damn time.
7 - Sansa rarely ever talks about Sandor, but she THINKS about him all the time, dreams of him, wonders where he is, and clearly misses him. She also told Miranda about the time he kissed her (which never actually happened) but didn't mention him by name, and even kept his torn, bloody cloak with her summer dresses.
8 - Sandor is very much alive, and getting that world's equivalent of therapy and rehab. He is getting his shit together, and Sansa will be really proud of him once she hears of it, since she prayed that he would be shown a better, less violent way of living.
So no, Littlefinger won't see it coming, because he has no fucking clue that he "lost" Sansa to Sandor a loooong time ago.
Plus, let's give our girl some credit. When she demonstrated some compassion for Tyrion, Littlefinger tried to kill that by telling the story of Tyrion's first wife, who was given to the guards to be raped by them when he grew bored of her. Even without knowing that story was bullshit, Sansa still thought about how Tyrion, and Sandor, were the ones who protected her when the Lannisters were holding her hostage, and that while Petyr was nice to her now, he is no friend of hers since he didn't do shit to help her when she needed it most - and he has no idea, because she never gave him the chance to realize that she knows he is full of shit, and instead is playing into his expectations of innocent, foolish daughter/replacement Catelyn so he won't figured out that his tricks are not as effective as he thinks.
Imagine if he tried to convince her that "The Hound" is not to be trusted by telling her a bunch of stories she knows are not true because, unlike him, she actually knows Sandor. Sansa would instantly see it as another reason to run from Littlefinger, and right into Sandor's arms, as fast as possible.
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bigfatbreak · 10 months
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Birds of a Feather previous / next
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azulolivart · 3 months
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❤️‍🔥Just two beings kissed by fire❤️‍🔥
I am literally obsessed with this scene, and with them. I feel that it is an important moment that represents a lesson for both the characters involved and the reader.
In the books, Sansa teaches Sandor a lesson with her song. Violence is not the way. Things are not taken by force. Even people like him, whose life is full of resentment and anger, have a chance to redeem themselves.
In the TV show, it is Sandor who teaches Sansa a lesson. Looks are deceiving. She is afraid of him because of how he looks and is unable to look at him but he tells her, in his own way, that she will encounter people in life much worse than him and that she will have to look at them. In that moment, Sansa understands what he meant and sees through his horrible burned mask. That's why she says: "You won't hurt me".
Both versions seem like a poem to me and I needed to make a fanart of it. I love this scene, and I love the interactions they both have. I hope that at least in the books they’ll have a worthwhile reunion and that they can thank each other, or if GRRM allows it, something more. It would be such a beautiful thing to read that she sings to him again, actually wanting to sing a song for him. Of course, that’s if Sandor is really alive.
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amplifyme · 23 days
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When they reached Maegor’s Holdfast, she was alarmed to see that it was Ser Boros Blount who now held the bridge. His high white helm turned stiffly at the sound of their footsteps. Sansa flinched away from his gaze. Ser Boros was the worst of the Kingsguard, an ugly man with a foul temper, all scowls and jowls.
“That one is nothing to fear, girl.” The Hound laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Paint stripes on a toad, he does not become a tiger.”
Ser Boros lifted his visor. “Ser, where-”
“Fuck your ser, Boros. You’re the knight, not me. I’m the king’s dog, remember? “
“The king was looking for his dog earlier.”
“The dog was drinking. It was your night to shield him, ser. You and my other brothers.”
Ser Boros turned to Sansa. “How is it you are not in your chambers at this hour, lady?”
“I went to the godswood to pray for the safety of the king.” The lie sounded better this time, almost true.
“You expect her to sleep with all the noise?” Clegane said.
I've always loved this passage because Sandor offers Sansa sage advice and covers her ass at the same time when Boros questions her about where she's been. And it's easy as breathing for him. He may not be a Ser, but he's Sansa's knight, through and through.
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Even though I don't ship SanSan , this was too good not to draw for SanSan fans who love my cosplays, Oc and art. Also I needed to draw this in general. Because I don't ship certain pairings doesn't mean I shouldn't draw memes of them for those who do.
Also hope the anon who hate asked weeks ago, eat this !!!
Sansa is portrayed adult in this art anyway, and I need to draw more feminine figures.
This also don't need to be meant as ship art, just Sandor being support. Take this pic how you want.
Enjoy peeps, and I adore you all.
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I had to do it before someone else does . Here is template.
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She was not sure who as yet, but she knew she would find someone. - Alayne {The Winds Of Winter Sample Chapter}
//
Fancasts:
Bradley James as Harrold Hardyng.
Isolda Dychauk as Sansa Stark/Alayne Stone.
Mark Ryder as Sandor Clegane/The Hound.
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ibreathestories · 1 month
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Sansa's wolf, Lady, was unjustly killed. The direwolf is the sigil of House Stark.
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I guess we can say...
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that the Hound...
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took Lady's place, watching over Sansa.
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What are your thoughts?
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fandomsbyladymelodrama · 11 months
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@salzrand - MY SANSAN FEELS <3333333333333333333
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bighound-littlebird · 7 months
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Sansan + no true knight
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The silence went on and on, so long that she began to grow afraid once more, but she was afraid for him now, not for herself. She found his massive shoulder with her hand. "He was no true knight," she whispered to him.
The Hound threw back his head and roared. Sansa stumbled back, away from him, but he caught her arm. "No," he growled at her, "no, little bird, he was no true knight."
“He is no true knight but he saved me all the same, she prayed to the Mother. Save him if you can, and gentle the rage inside of him.”
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anya-draws-stuff · 1 year
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Finished this one this weekend. :D
These two forever have a place in my heart. <3
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mybworlds · 6 months
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Chapter 6: Something there
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Pairing: The Hound x Sansa Stark
Summary: As their journey continues, they will discover that slowly their relationship is beginning to change -- perhaps.
Chapter Warnings: language, use of pet names, influence of alcohol
Masterlist
Before to start... thank you to follow me, if you want to be tagged in the next chapters, please let me know! if you want to ask me smt, you can write down here or you can inbox me. Please remember English is not my first language.
Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner
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Sansa and the Hound departed a few hours later, silence had fallen between them, only Stranger - Sandor's mighty horse - could be heard trampling on the grass or rocks under its hooves, she was annoyed by the man's foul-mouthed language so unpleasant, yet a sincere thanks for saving her life and healing her wounds came out of her heart, having said these words she turned her head toward the man behind her who immediately returned her gaze "You're welcome." he said simply in a serious tone.
Sansa then asked, "Who were those men? Do you know which house they belonged to?"
The Hound twisted his mouth before answering, "They are from the Land of the Aryas."
"Land of the Aryas?" asked Sansa "I have never heard of them."
"Because it should no longer exist, little bird. What you know as the Chief of the Octopus had the name Land of the Aryas, the Aryas were a people of savages mostly skilled in the use of the sword, violent. They were a rival house to the Clegane's that's why I know about their existence. My father faced their leader at the time, a certain Ga-rarg or Ga-nang I don't remember, however defeated him and remaining only women there, I thought their lineage - if you can call it that - was extinct, but today -- when I saw their coat of arms, I realized that I was wrong and that someone else is back in power of that scum!" he finished explaining and then spat.
"And your father died…?" Sansa was about to ask him if he died fighting honorably to protect his home and children, but he stopped her laughing "He didn't die fighting, little bird, if that's what you were about to ask me. He died on a hunting trip, like King Robert. Assuming he really died that way." that thought escaped him.
Sandor had never quite believed the story of his brother having gone hunting with his father that day; part of him believed that his father had died at Gregor's hand or otherwise.
"Did you weep for his death?" asked Sansa, barely turning her face away from him.
"What an idiotic question! No! There is nothing to mourn, the dead are dead. What is the point of wasting tears on someone who can no longer see or hear you?" he answered her abruptly.
Sansa just leaned her back against Sandor's armor-covered chest; she would have liked to tell him that she was sorry for his loss even though it had now happened many years before and that she would pray for him, but she was sure the Hound would not like the thought or give thanks.
"Why did you go into the service of the Lannisters?" asked Sansa after a few moments.
Sandor sighed and stopped his horse for a moment, looked around "What's going on?" asked Sansa noticing the man's inquiring gaze.
"Be quiet!" he admonished her "Soldiers coming. " he added and then set Stranger off at a gallop and fast forward into a forest, Sansa clinging with one hand to the horse's mane and with the other to the Hound's armor, which prompted Stranger to run even faster, Sansa was afraid of falling when the horse jumped over a small river, she begged the gods to allow her to live, to help her and then prayed that the Hound would also find some peace, he was a good man - deep in his heart - who must have suffered so much to become like that!
Stranger continued his gallop until Sandor pulled slightly on the reins and the horse slowed its gait, they crossed a small stream always in silence, then returned to the main road; Sandor stopped the horse and looked back, Sansa did the same, but she saw no one, she then observed the man asking him a mute question, "Danger past, little bird." he reassured her "We are almost at Harrenhal. But we will not stop there."
"Why?"
"It's not safe and then there's Tywin Lannister, you don't want him to recognize you and take you back to King's Landing!" at the very thought Sansa shuddered "Besides, I'm not going to go there, to that cursed fortress!"
"Are you superstitious then?"
"No, but if I can avoid death a little longer it's better!" he replied without looking away from the horizon, Sansa smiled imperceptibly "In what do you believe?" she asked him.
"In nothing but brute force!" he replied confidently "Nothing protects you more than the sword and your strength."
"Yet you must have believed in something as a child!" insisted Sansa, the man replied with a snort.
The two came to a miserable village, its houses were built half of stone and half of wood, its inhabitants populated the muddy streets, dogs ran free and others fought for a piece of meat, there were many children and parents with hollowed-out faces and pleading eyes for help. Stark felt pity for them "Dare to say a word and I'll tear your tongue out." the Hound admonished her brutally "Better if no one recognizes us: pull up your hood, hide your hair and look down." he continued in a less aggressive tone.
Sansa could have shouted for help and said that she was the Lady of Winterfell, perhaps someone would have recognized her and taken her home and snatched her from the clutches of the Hound who could do nothing but speak rancorous and frightening words to her, or perhaps they would have simply handed her over to the Lannisters in exchange for a loaf of bread.
No, Sansa could trust no one but the Hound, he - even if brutally - was protecting her.
Sandor set the girl down "Come." he told her simply and Sansa obeyed, they entered with their heads down into a place she recognized from the din to be an inn, there were few people there and so Sansa dared to barely raise her face to that of the man behind the counter "Welcome to the Moor Inn, how can I help you?"
"Give me some wine and chicken." replied Clegane handing the man some coins that Sansa imagined had been taken from someone else, the man cast a quick glance first at the Hound and then at Sansa "It will be cold tonight, why don't you stay here? There is a room upstairs, plus you can count on my discretion, ser."
The Hound looked at the man and replied, saying, "How much do you want?"
"Ten silver coins for the room and my silence."
Sansa looked up at the Hound, he was about to draw his sword, but Sansa laid a hand on his and then Sandor looked at her, what did the little girl intend to do?
"All right, ser." she replied, "Here you go." having said these words she slipped off a bracelet worth at least 30 gold pieces, Clegane thought.
The man looked first at the girl and then at the very precious bracelet without adding anything else.
Rather he made them have plenty of food and wine and the largest room in the inn, "Why didn't you tell me you had jewelry with you?" asked the Hound, looking at Sansa as she disgorged her leg of mutton. Sansa looked at him with those clear eyes that Sandor was slowly beginning to appreciate and replied, "I was afraid that if I told you, you would rob me and abandon me somewhere."
The Hound snorted and then downed another glass of wine "Doesn't it bother you to drink so much?" she asked as she saw him gobble down that red liquid.
"No, there is one thing that bothers me and that is stupid questions to which you can only give stupid answers. Do you want to know why I served the Lannisters? Because my father was one of their bannermen many, many years ago and because I only had a desire to kill and with them I could do it often." she fell silent "Here, drink." he invited her.
Sansa looked at the glass containing wine and then Sandor "If you don't do it, I'll drink it. Come on, try it, bad luck you'll have a headache tomorrow!" he reassured her in his own way, Sansa took the goblet and brought it to her lips and slowly drank some, it tasted decidedly strange so much so that she barely curled her lips causing the man to laugh.
"One more sip," he encouraged her.
"Tomorrow I'll make you pay for it," she threatened him.
"I tremble at the very thought." sneered Sandor at her.
She drank two more, four more, six more sips, finished a first, a second and a third glass.Sansa was definitely beside herself, laughing and joking with the Hound as if he were her friend rather than a man who was bringing her home.
"You are the bravest man I know, Sandor," she told him as he carried her into the room and laid her on the bed. Sansa under normal circumstances would never have called him by his name or referred to him as such. Her upbringing required her to maintain a certain detachment and superiority from others; after all, she was a Lady, not a commoner!
Sandor knew she was not herself, but nevertheless he felt flattered by the young girl's words, moved her hair and asked, "How are the scratches?"
"Better, they don't burn anymore. Thank you, thank you for what you did." she said, laying her hand on his cheek, on that cheek that the fire had irreparably ruined: he shuddered like a gasp, not because he felt pain, but because no one had ever touched him with that gentleness again, the last woman who had done so had been his mother when he was a child of about eight.
Sandor did not answer, he looked her straight in the eyes and she did not lower her gaze, the battered face of the Hound did not seem as frightening to her as it did a few weeks ago, it was almost comforting, it made her feel strangely safe, was it the wine?
He smiled, "Aren't you afraid of me? Until yesterday morning you were horrified by my face."
"I wasn't looking at you in horror, you're wrong. I was just thinking … that if you are like this it is because of something that has made you suffer so much that it has driven you to no longer believe in anyone except in hurting others whether by sword or words."
He smiled and then replied, "Bullshit!"
And instead, the little fucking bird was right, and how right she was: Sandor Clegane had not shed a tear or addressed any prayers since he was eleven years old, since his beloved mother had gone, he recalled that he had prayed for some god to take pity on her, to bring down her fever, to make those wounds heal, but no god had taken pity on her, nor had they heeded his prayers.
From then on the child never cried again, what was the use of crying?
The Hound made to get up and let her rest there on that bed that smelled of mold, but she grabbed his hand and asked, "Will you stay with me?"
Sandor looked at her surprised for a moment, then remembered that she spoke like that only because of the wine she had drunk, not because she really wanted to; nevertheless, he could not say no to her, on the contrary.
"Turn the other way." he ordered her, and Sansa rolled onto her side, leaving him plenty of room to stretch out. He took off his armor and leaned his belt with his dagger and sword against the wall, then lay down behind her.
She was already asleep, but he could not close his eyes: this was not the first time he had lain with a woman, he had had many for a night and for a fee, but never did one of them have the effect on him that that pure little girl had on him. He felt-some strange form of tenderness toward her. He felt something that was still not quite clear to him. He barely held onto her and smelled the scent of her hair, wanted to caress it, wanted to caress that face that was so sweet and proud, wanted to … he didn't quite know himself.
The next day Sandor woke up with the sun illuminating the room, Sansa was practically clinging to him asleep, and he was … in an indecent state … if only the little one had seen the effect she had on him, she would have blushed and hid.
It was not the first time it happened to him when someone slept near him, but for the first time he felt uncomfortable. He even found himself thinking about her and how she would never give herself to him, the Hound, the broken and disfigured-faced Man, ever. Sandor loosened the embrace that held him bound to her and, after making himself presentable, walked out of the room, he had to drink.
The Hound came down and sat down on a stool, asked for wine, but the woman behind the counter - who must have been the wife of the man Sansa and Sandor had met before - reminded him that they never served wine before the Sun went down, Sandor got up from there using a series of epithets and profanities that would have made the people of Flea Bottom blush. What he found around was only water, water and more damn water.
He returned to the inn and ascended without giving the woman a glance; he could screw her and her rules!
He would find what he was looking for elsewhere.
When he opened the door to their room, Sandor saw Sansa standing intent on observing her little body: it was full of bruises and scratches; she touched the scratches in the cleft between her breasts slowly and then touched her inner thigh. Sandor almost felt the instinct to walk into the room and kiss that once nubile and perfect little body of hers, now full of cuts.
He did not do this, however. Sandor just stared at his young companion and felt … helpless, wished he could do more, be able to say the right things, to tell her what she wanted to hear, felt a strange and somewhat disturbing sweetness make its way into him.
Where did it come from?
Sandor had never experienced such a feeling; what was happening to him?
He decided to regain control over himself and remember who he was, he was Sandor Clegane, the terrible, violent and aggressive Hound, he had taken Stark with him only to make a profit, then he would leave and abandon Stark there, what was warming his heart was only a momentary thing and surely due to sobriety!
Yes, he was there with her only for money, nothing else.
Sandor opened the door and in doing so heard her reach for something, when he saw her, she was wearing her cloak, "Please, I have not yet finished dressing. Wait for me outside." she almost begged him, and he, obedient as a dog, backed away without saying anything to her. He waited outside.
Clegane remained in total silence feeling his heart oddly beating in his chest.
He decided to regain control of the situation with one of his usual stinging phrases that would make things go back to the way they were, opened the door again and saw that Sansa was fixing her hair with her hands and he had the desire to run a hand through her red hair himself, who knows how soft it must have been!
Sansa noticed his presence and so turned around smiling innocently at him, "I'm ready."
"Good, I don't have all fucking day to lose!" he blurted out causing her to lose her smile.
Why did it hurt him so much now to make her lose her smile?
"Fine." she replied in a cold tone "Anytime." she added reaching out to him and returning his cloak. Sandor felt small, small despite being much taller than her and much stronger than Stark, he felt as if he had just received a punch that took his breath away. He followed her a few steps away, Sansa politely greeted the woman using what to him seemed to be a bunch of bullshit made to dazzle the idiots on duty, then walked out.
Sandor, on the other hand, taking advantage of the girl's distance, approached the woman and demanded that she return the bracelet they had appropriated a few hours earlier; the woman, frightened by the man's dagger and surely also by his appearance, returned what Sansa had previously given to pay for her lodging.
Sansa watched as Sandor mounted on Stranger behind her, then rammed him and they quickly left the inn behind them. Sansa could not understand the man who went to such great lengths for her but did everything he could to keep her away.
What was he trying to prove?
That he was tough? He was.
That he was above everything and everyone? Maybe.
Sansa strove not to make remarks that might irritate the man and also tried to be as less talkative as possible, to use the Hound's terms, strove not to chirp in order to avoid phrases pregnant with irritation from her companion.
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hello-nichya-here · 2 years
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what do u think of the argument that sandor is only protective of sansa because she reminds him of his sister?
I think you're being far to kind by calling it an argument in the first place.
George R.R. Martin might not be at the level of describing the backstory of every leaf in every branch in every tree in a forest yet, but he is getting there. We hear A LOT about characters that were dead decades and centuries before the actual story we're reading started, yet we don't even know the NAME of Sandor's sister.
All we know about her is that she existed, and that it is very likely that Gregor Clegane was the one who killed her.
Now, we had no shortage of people letting the Stark children know they will be dead very soon if they trust the wrong person or get too cocky, and Sandor in particular rants at Sansa all the time.
He told her about how he doesn't believe there are any Gods, about how his own brother disfigured him and was still made a knight, and how those who can't protect themselves should just die to get out of everybody else's way - don't you think he could told her about how his sister was a pretty little bird just like her and was killed horribly because the world is just awful like that so she should watch her back?
Martin could have done that. But he didn't, because Sandor's sister - who we don't even know if he was close to - has nothing to do with his dynamic with Sansa. He looks after her because she reminds him of the innocent child he once was AND because of his very inappropriate love/lust for her.
The idea that Sandor sees Sansa as his younger sister that he needs to protect is just another way some uncomfortable readers found to pretend there's nothing going between them, only instead of pretending their bond doesn't exist, they try to act like it is platonic/familial instead of romantic.
And honestly, if Winds of Winter came out and we suddenly had the retcon of Sandor comparing his relationship with his sister to the one he had with Sansa - the girl he is obviously attracted to - and saying that whenever he looks at her he sees his sister, that wouldn't be "proof" that he is not in love with Sansa, it would just show that House Clegane had more in common with House Lannister than we first thought.
Sansan is a thing people. Martin himself said there's something there. If you have a problem with that kind of inappropriate romance, read a different story because this one is clearly not for you.
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allnewbananasong · 11 months
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Did I get up early just to draw SanSan? No.
…………… maybe.
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