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Warriors, Wolves and Unlikely Heroes

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Sansa was the first one to walk over the threshold to their new chamber. The chamber they would share as man and wife. It was the largest one in the castle and had belonged to her parents. Jon had insisted it should be theirs and Sansa had relented, even though the thought made her a bit uneasy.

Now that she was standing in the candlelit chamber, it felt like she was right where she was supposed be. In a place where she and Sandor could build a future together.

 

The chamber was comfortably warm thanks to the fire that had been recently stocked and the hot spring water that flowed through its walls. One of the windows had been left ajar and music could be heard from down below.

 

Sandor closed the door behind him and reached for her hand. She thought he ment to lead her to the bed, but instead he pulled her into a tight embrace. His own large hand settled on the small of her back and then he started to sway, gently rocking her as he moved.

Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her fingers find their way to his nape. She felt him shiver under her touch. She smiled against his chest, as she started to trace tiny circles on the warmth of his skin.

“What are you doing?”, she hummed.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Little Bird.”, he rasped. “I’m dancing on my wedding night.”

Sansa buried her face in his shirt, inhaling his scent.

“I thought you didn’t dance”, she said.

His hands dipped lower until he had her bottom in a firm grip. He pinched her lightly, kneading her flesh in a way that made her body tingle.

“I don’t think your family would appreciate the way I dance.”, he rasped.

 

“They’re your family too now.”, she said, though she couldn’t help but agree with him.

She could picture the mortified look on Jon’s face and the retching noises her sister would’ve made if they saw her now.

Sandor stilled for a moment. Then she felt him place a kiss on the top of her head.

“I suppose they are.”, he said.

They swayed together for a long time. The steady beating of his heart soothed her and the warmth seeping through his clothes felt as good as soaking in a warm bath. Better, she decided. Much better.

She could feel something hard poking her stomach. When she wiggled closer to him, Sandor groaned softly.

 

“Undress me.”, she heard herself say. She could hardly recognize her own voice, so husky and low and filled with desire.

Sandor wasted no time heading her request. He spun her around, so that her back was facing him. Then he pushed her hair to one side and brought his mouth down on the skin he’d laid bare. Sansa gasped when he suddenly closed his lips around her and sucked. A quick sting that sent jolts of want and need down between her legs.

He took his time with the lacings on the back of her dress, and all the while, he nipped and sucked on her neck in a way that was making her knees grow weak.

The dress pooled beneath her feet and she stepped out of it, standing in the middle of the chamber in nothing but her shift. Sandor wrapped his arms around her from behind. His large hands settled against her stomach and he continued swaying, pulling her along with his movements. She felt herself sink into his embrace, until she wasn’t sure if she was standing on her own or not.

“Take me to bed, husband.”, she said.

“As you wish, wife.”, he rasped.

His voice was so deep that she was sure she could feel it vibrate all the way to her very core.

He swooped her up and carried her across the chamber by her waist.

Sandor placed her down on the soft bed and then he took a step back. He was still fully clothed. She reached for him, but it didn’t look as if he was in much of a hurry to join her. Sansa frowned slightly, impatient for his touch. He seemed to notice. There was a dark glint in his eye and a devilish smirk on his lips as he began working the buckles on his leather jerkin.

She had seen his deft fingers unclasp buckles faster than she could blink, but he was taking his time now. Sansa knew that her face was betraying her. Her eyes. Her skin. Her eager stares.

He knew what he was doing to her and he was enjoying it.

After what felt like an eternity, he shed the jerkin and started to unlace his shirt. Then he pulled it over his head, exposing his broad, muscled chest. For a maddening moment she was sure he was about to fold the darned thing.

Sansa was growing frustrated. Too frustrated to enjoy the performance he was so kindly giving her. She wanted his hands on her and she wanted them on her now.

Getting to her knees on the bed, she decided two could play this game. She pulled the shift over her head and tossed it on the floor next to him. She couldn’t think of a clearer invitation than that. For good measure, she decide to remove her smallclothes as well. She aimed those at his face, but sadly she missed.

Sandor dropped his shirt next to her shift and his breeches followed, quickly shedded in his sudden haste. She remained on her knees as he crawled naked to meet her on the bed.

His hands roved over her skin. Touching. Caressing. It felt like he was on mission to map out every dip and curve and valley of her body, claiming them as his as he went. He kissed her with the same feverish desire and Sansa returned it as best as she could. Sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, she grazed it, ever so lightly, with her teeth.

It drove Sandor wild. His eyes were dark as pitch, as he grabbed her hips and sunk back against the pillows with Sansa on top of him. She landed on his thighs with thump. Seated on him like this, she was almost at eye level with him.

Sansa placed her hands on his shoulders and got to her knees on top of him. She could feel him at her entrance as Sandor guided himself into position. Then she let herself sink down the length of him.

She had missed the sensation of having him within her so much that the feeling almost overwhelmed her. It lasted only lasted a moment, though. Then the desire to move overtook her.

Sandor groaned when she started to move her hips. Hesitantly at first, but faster and smoother as she found her rhythm. With every stroke, she rubbed against him in a way that sent jolts of lightning coursing through her body. She moved faster and faster until her thighs began to protest and she was panting. Not the good kind of panting. The kind of panting that came from running up several flights of stairs whilst wearing a corset.

“Sandor.”, she whimpered.

She didn’t have to elaborate.

Sandor grabbed her hips and started to guide them for her, as his mouth covered her left breast. He swirled his tongue around her peak in a way that gave her a new cause to whimper. She moaned loudly and Sandor picked up his pace.

Suddenly, he pulled her close to his chest. Her fingers dug into his back as he pounded into her again and again, sending her closer to the edge.

She was draped so closely against him that she could both hear and feel the hammering of his heart as she fell apart around him. Her release left her as a strangled cry. Beneath her, Sandor jerked his hips against hers and emitted a loud, drawn out groan, as he spilled inside her.

Sandor slumped against the bed frame and she leaned her head back, trying to gather her breath. Even though he was still inside of her, he felt too far away. She wanted to hear his heartbeat again.

In her delirium she must’ve misjudged the distance because she ended up smacking her forehead hard against his chest. Sandor made a noise that was somewhere between a grunt and a chuckle. He sounded as spent as Sansa herself felt.

“Sorry.”, she yawned.

Her eyes had decided that they refused to stay open.

“No worries, Little Bird.”, he rasped, lazily stroking her back. “Anytime.”

 

* * *

 

Sansa blinked a few times. The bed was warm and the naked body next to her was even warmer. Her sleepy fingers began to wander beneath the blankets and furs, exploring as they went.
She could tell by Sandor’s breathing that he was beginning to wake.

Sansa jolted up. The sun was peaking through the windows. Panic gripped her as she realized they must have overslept. She was halfway out of bed when Sandor caught her around the waist, gently pulling her back into his embrace.

The memories from last night came back to her all at once. The wedding. The feast. The bedding that never happened and the one she and Sandor had enjoyed on their own.

“I thought we’d overslept.”, she tried to explain, relaxing into his arms.

 

“We’ve got all the time in the world, Little Bird.”, he rasped.

 

“We’re married.”, she whispered. For the first time in her life, she was happy to be someone’s wife. Not somebody’s. Sandor’s. She was Sandor’s wife.

“Having second thoughts?”, he chuckled.

She smacked his chest lightly.

“Do you?”, she asked.

He flipped her over and Sansa landed on her back with a giggle. The dark look was back in his eyes and when she glanced down, she saw that he was indeed awake in more ways than one.

 

“I’ll show you just how much I regret being bound to you for the rest of my days.”, he rasped, as he came to rest above her.

His strong arms were placed on either side of her, trapping her beneath him. Sandor gave her a searing kiss that was cut short, much to her dismay. She opened her eyes and found that he was beginning to work his way downward. He stopped for a moment, giving her breasts some much needed attention.

“Such a terrible fate.”, he said, giving her peak a quick lick. “

Sandor trailed her stomach with kisses and, all the while, she kept her eyes on him. The view was magnificent. Not long ago, Sansa would have been mortified at the thought of watching him like this. Now if only served to make her shiver in anticipation.

When he reached the auburn patch of hair between her legs, he looked up, fixing her with his grey eyes.

“Truly, Little Bird, why don’t you put just put a man out of his misery.”, he rasped, giving her a wink and a smirk, before bending to his task.

The sounds that were about to leave her as laughter, quickly turned to moaning instead.

 

 

Sandor was snoring lightly. The sun was beginning to set. They had spent the whole day together in bed and Sansa had made a mental note to thank whichever maid it was who had stocked their chamber with food and drink.

Her husband was sprawled on his back with his mouth half agape, his dark hair falling in waves against the pillows. He looked so peaceful.

Sansa curled up next to him, her head resting against his chest, above his heart. She closed her eyes and listened to the rhythmic thumping. She was beginning to drift off, when Sandor’s arms wrapped around her.

“Little Bird.”, he yawned, placing a sleepy kiss on her forehead.

Moments later, the snoring resumed, but Sandor still kept his arm wound tightly around her.

Sansa smiled to herself. Even in his sleep, he made her feel safe.