Underneath her steely exterior, Sansa’s stomach was twisting into knots as she watched the procession of Jon and his foreign queen into Winterfell from the ramparts. She desperately wanted to believe the words Jon wrote, that Daenerys was wise, kind, and, most importantly, vital to the North’s survival, but she couldn't help the feeling of trepidation flowing through her veins as she watched the endless rows of unfamiliar troops approaching her home, her people, her family.
The sound of dragons screeching sent a chill down her spine, and her breath caught in her throat as she watched them fly overhead. Her blood began to pound as she saw the faces of her people turn from cautious awe to fear and panic. Her stomach flipped when she thought of how easily their reaction could set off a hot-tempered Targaryen, and how effortlessly she could overthrow all that they had worked for, all that they had sacrificed for, and burn it all to the ground in an instant if she so chose.
Sansa took a deep breath to steady her nerves as her eyes went back to the procession and searched for Jon’s face, eager for a glimpse of familiarity in the seemingly endless sea of uncertainty flowing into Winterfell. She found him just as he was glancing up and they locked eyes. A bright smile flashed across his face, and for a brief moment Sansa’s worries faded away. He’s safe. He’s home. The pack is finally together. She breathed a sigh of relief as she returned his smile, and chuckled to herself when he winked before turning his attention back to the road.
Her gaze briefly fell upon Daenerys, who was as beautiful as that serpent Baelish had told her, but they were out of sight before she got a chance to truly study her. Sansa shook her head as she began to turn away, but felt her eyes being drawn back to procession. It was then that she caught a glimpse of him, and her stomach immediately dropped. She blinked a few times in disbelief, rubbed her eyes, and yet there he still was, riding atop a magnificent steed who would have dwarfed anyone but him riding it. Sandor… Her heart began to pound, a deafening drumbeat coursing through her entire being. He's alive! And he's HERE…
She gripped the rampart to steady herself as waves upon waves of memories and emotions crashed over her, threatening to knock her down and drown her. Memories she had pushed so far back in her mind that they felt like nothing more than a distant dream, or more often, a nightmare. Memories that had long-since been replaced with greater atrocities, but were now leaking out and mixing together like two hands reaching out to choke the breath from her frozen body as a frightening wave began to crest inside her.
She heard horns sounding in the distance, a raft that she grabbed onto for dear life. I am a Stark, she thought to herself as she steadied her shoulders. I am the Lady of Winterfell. She straightened her back as she wiped away the tears brimming in her eyes. I am stronger than my experiences, and they will NOT consume me.
She took a few deep breaths as she turned away from the rampart. Her armor grew stronger with each step towards the courtyard, and by the time Jon and Daenerys passed through the gates it was made of steel again.
Sandor scoffed as he spotted a group of scullery maids who were eyeing him like a piece of fresh meat. Aye, I bet the sight of ANY big brute with a manly beard amongst these Unsullied waifs will ruffle yer skirts… He growled at them and they burst into a fit of flirtatious giggles, whispering into each other’s ears as he approached them. Let’s see how fast you scurry away when you see my other side… He flashed them a frightening smile as he turned his head, exposing the burnt side of his face, and let out a roarous laugh as they gasped in horror.
His laughter died down as he made his way towards the courtyard and looked around, making a mental map of paths, staircases, and defenses. Hasn't changed much since the last time I was here, he thought to himself. He shrugged as he lifted his gaze upwards to the walls of the keep, and his jaw dropped as he caught a flash of fiery hair on the covered bridge. Her back was turned to him, but he could recognize that distinctive shade anywhere.
"Seven bloody Hells…" he muttered as he unconsciously stopped his horse in its tracks and studied her. Sansa fucking Stark… His heart began pounding and his mind began whirling as he watched her hands gesture wildly at Jon, who was shaking his head. I could have sworn she had… Jon reached for her shoulder and she abruptly turned away, her copper locks whipping through the air as a look of pain flashed across her eyes before she closed them. Sandor's heart sank and his eyes filled with their own pain as memories of his greatest mistake began to wash over him.
"I thought you hated gingers?" Gendry laughed as he slapped the hindquarters of Sandor's destrier.
"Fuck off," Sandor rasped as his mount began to canter. He shook the thoughts from his head and took a deep breath along with Sansa as she steadied herself before turning back to Jon.
Gendry smiled as he looked back up at Sansa. "She is quite a sight for sore eyes, I'll give you that…"
Sandor punched his arm when their horses caught up to each other, nearly knocking him from the saddle. "I wasn't staring at her, ye bloody fucking bastard, I was studying the angles of the bridges against the battlements to figure out where we should place the archers." Gendry chuckled as he mockingly pursed his lips and batted his eyelashes, and Sandor shot him a venomous look. "Shut yer cunt mouth before I permanently close it," he growled as he spurred his steed and raced ahead of him towards the stables.
Sansa retreated to her chambers where a hot bath welcomed her, and her lips curled into a smile. I must remember to thank Millie for her foresight when I see her tomorrow. She heaved a heavy sigh as she stepped out of her dress and into the tub. It had been an overwhelming few days, between the politics, awkward reunions, and plans for the Great War, and she was grateful for the excuse to relax, if only for a short while. She took a deep breath and lowered herself into the water, her mind slowly clearing with each inch of warmth that covered her. She closed her eyes and submerged her head, clearing the last of her worries as her armor slowly dissolved into the water with the final few bubbles of her breath.
Sansa smiled as she came up for air and leaned her head back against the towel that rested on the edge of the tub. Her muscles began to relax as the heat of the water radiated through her skin, and she took a deep breath, inhaling the light scent of lemon and lavender from the steam that rose to her nostrils. She sighed contentedly as she closed her eyes again, relishing in the comfort and quietude of the moment.
A few minutes later, she picked up the cloth and began lazily washing herself, humming a mindless tune. She giggled at the tickle of soap bubbles popping against her skin as she dropped her arm into the water to rinse it off. Her hand moved to wash her other arm and brushed across her breast, sending a fresh wave of tingling across her skin. She shivered as a vaguely familiar sensation rolled through her body, one she hadn't quite experienced since her time in the Vale.
She closed her eyes and leaned back into the water, her mind aimlessly wandering as her hand slowly traced a line between her breasts. Her fingertips thrummed across her abdomen and brushed against her curls, and her mind wandered back to the moment it always had when she felt like this. She instinctively licked her lips as she recalled the feeling of the hardness of his burns meeting the softness of her mouth, the scratch of his beard against her chin, the rough callouses on his fingers as they gripped her cheek, the no-longer-unfamiliar ache that grew in her core as his tongue brushed against hers.
She parted her legs as her fingers trailed further south and brushed against her nub, a gentle moan escaping her lips as she pictured his arms wrapping around her waist as he slowly ground into her. She had replayed this scenario over and over in her head, how it could have went, how she wished it had went. This time, she imagined him lifting her up and carrying her back to the bed, a low growl in his throat as he laid her down and climbed on top of her. She could hear his teeth ripping the laces of her dress as his hands gently cradled her hips, inching slowly towards the insatiable ache between her legs.
A different type of feeling began to pool in her center- one of dread and guilt and regret- as her mind flashed back to his face as he rode into Winterfell, blissfully unaware of the effect he had on her or the tidal wave of emotion his mere presence had caused. She immediately dropped her hand and sat straight up as it began to crash over her again, and she struggled to catch her breath as the walls of her chambers started to slowly close in around her.
I was such a bloody FOOL! A naïve little bird locked in a golden cage, just like he always told me… Her shoulders began to heave and she gulped for air. I was so scared… But I KNEW he wouldn't hurt me. If only I had trusted my gut, trusted him… Tears began to well in her eyes. If only I had let him take me away that night, I could have avoided…
She shuddered at the thought as she leapt up from the tub and ran to her wardrobe, her armor quickly turning from steel to ivory. She fell to her knees and rummaged around for her small trunk- the one that had held her most precious possessions that had traveled with her from Winterfell to King's Landing and everywhere in between. The one she had hidden away before escaping from Ramsay, and had thanked the gods when she found it still waiting for her when she returned. She tipped the contents onto the floor and opened the secret compartment with shaky fingers as her ivory armor slowly began chipping away, revealing the porcelain underneath.
She pulled out the ragged cloak, still stained with blood and dirt, and wrapped it around herself as she had done so many times before. She buried her face in the yellowed fabric, which still smelled of wine and sweat and… Him… She smiled as she inhaled his scent, and her mind began to clear as she sat down on her bed.
I was a child. He was… Well… the Hound. He had shown me kindness in his own way, but how could I ever have just blindly trusted him? She pulled the fabric away from her face and took a deep breath as her nerves began to settle. He was more of a knight than any of those bastards that wore the same cloak, but he was also piss drunk, and held a bloody knife against my throat as he demanded a song! She laughed softly as she recalled her pure innocence and naivety when he had made his request. And so, like the obedient Little Bird I was, I cradled him in my lap and sang the Mother's hymn to him. She sighed as she recalled stroking his cheek with shaking fingers as she sang. I was so scared… Her heart began to ache as she remembered her knuckles brushing against what she swore was tears as she finished the song. HE was so scared…
She shook off the feeling and walked over to her table, grabbing the wineskin and taking a large swig. Even if I DID go with him, it wouldn't have mattered. I'd likely have ended up in a ditch somewhere, another causality of the Red Wedding, and that's if we even made it home to begin with... She lifted her gaze to the night sky as she shook off his cloak and it crumpled into a pile on the floor across her feet. The moon was bright that night and glimmered across the fresh packs of snow that covered the tents in the distance. Everything happens for a reason. If I hadn't stayed, I wouldn't have ended up in the Vale, we would have lost against the Boltons, lost our home, lost what was left of the family… She took a deep breath and set her shoulders as she took another sip. Everything I endured helped the pack survive.
A fresh wave of sorrow and regret washed over her, and her porcelain armor began to crack as she recalled everything she had endured as a result of that one pivotal decision. The torture at the Lannisters’ command, Lord Baelish's slimy lips pressed against hers, the horrors she suffered at the hands of Ramsey, the scars she bore from all of it. The physical ones had faded long ago, but the mental ones still tormented her, and every so often she would cry out in the dead of night as she awoke in a pool of sweat. She took a few deep breaths to try and steady herself. I’m the Lady of Winterfell. Winter is here! I can't be selfish right now and wallow in self-pity. It was all worth it. The pack survived.
Her shoulders began to heave again. But I don't know if we can survive the army of the dead that's marching upon us, even with two dragons and the most powerful army since Aegon the conqueror… She couldn't stop the flood of tears that began to run from her eyes as the porcelain crumbled away and left her defenseless. Helpless. Weak. Alone. She desperately tried to put her armor back on, but it was futile. She had been so strong for so long, she had nothing left to fight the war of emotions inside her, let alone the one brewing between her and the Wall. She picked his cloak up and wrapped it around herself again as she walked back to her bed. She pulled it as tightly around her as she could, and almost felt as if it were him hugging her as she laid down and finally allowed herself to fall apart for the first time in years.
Sansa's eyes fluttered open a while later, still sore from crying herself to sleep. She winced as she rubbed them and sat up, gazing out her window into the eerily quiet darkness. The moon still hung high in the sky and she sighed as closed her eyes again and tried to will herself back to sleep. She was exhausted in more ways than she ever thought possible, but her mind and nerves were restless. She wrapped herself in her furs and walked over to the table, where she poured the rest of the wine into a glass. She paced back and forth in her chambers as she slowly finished it, taking deep breaths between sips to try and calm her nerves and the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She sighed in frustration when she reached the bottom of the glass and was still on edge. She needed to get it together, needed something to ground her. She thought back to her father, who surely must have faced many sleepless nights like this in anticipation of a battle. "How did you find peace?" she asked aloud, and gazed at the stars for answers.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Sandor grumbled as he flipped onto his other side. "You'd think after months on the road and at sea these bones of mine would appreciate an actual bed…" He sighed heavily as he turned onto his back, and his calves banged against the frame. "Maybe if this bloody mattress weren't so small…" he scoffed as he slammed his eyelids shut again.
He sighed again in frustration a few minutes later as he gave up trying to fall asleep and got up from the bed. He grabbed a wineskin and chugged as he leaned against the wall, relishing in the warmth the hot springs brought to the stone. "At least these northerners know how to heat a room without a bloody fire. I'll drink to that…" He lifted the skin again and emptied it as he turned his body towards the window, looking out among the tents and finding himself grateful he even had a bed to complain about.
A cold wind blew through a small crack in the windowpane and sent a shiver down his spine. As he reached over to close the shutters, he noticed a hooded figure walking towards the gates by the library tower, and caught the moonlight glimmering across a patch of copper that peeked out from under the hood. "What in the seven bloody hells is she doing out at this hour?" he muttered to himself as he watched her, the spark of fiery hair against the crisp white snow igniting a long-forgotten flame inside of him. "Has she still no bloody sense after all this time?" He shook his head and rolled his eyes as his instincts took over, and quickly dressed before leaving his chamber.
His heart began to pound as he stormed out of the Great Keep and followed the path of her footsteps through the snow. The air was still and quiet, the blood pumping through his veins the only sound. He breathed a small sigh of relief as he realized where her path was leading- the Godswood, a sacred place to the Northerners that the troops didn't dare go near for fear of the dragon queen's wrath. Her steps eventually led him to a clearing, and he cursed himself as a mound of snow fell from a tree on the edge where his shoulder brushed against it. Sansa's head turned and he quickly ducked behind the trunk.
His instincts slowly died down and his common sense began to kick back on. What am I even doing right now? I'm not her bloody fucking shield. He shook his head as he leaned against the tree. Where is that giant of a bitch anyway? She talks a big game about honor and oaths, yet lets her ward roam freely at all hours with no protection… He held back a scoff as he peered around the trunk, studying the subtle movements of Sansa's cloak as she folded her hands in prayer.
Prayer… Sandor had thought about her often during those first few months on the Quiet Isle, living a life of servitude, solitude, and silent reflection as his wounds slowly healed. He found the spewings of the Elder Brother to be a load of horseshit, but he found an almost cathartic sense of peace when he finally stopped fighting against him and begrudgingly agreed to try and do something better with his second chance at life.
Gods only knew the litany of misdeeds he had committed- seven lifetimes on that island couldn't atone for his sins, but he tried anyway. There was even a brief period of time that he had held hope for redemption as he toiled away digging graves, day in and day out. Her song and her memory had given him strength over the years, comforted him as he faced his inner demons, but if he thought about her too long it always ended up bringing him back to that night, to his biggest regret of all.
His heart would begin to ache and his stomach would turn into knots as he thought of her fate when he left her- a scared, fragile little bird alone in a city under siege, surrounded by vicious lions. If the Lannisters hadn't immediately killed her, surely they had doubled down on her torture until she was nothing more than a broken shell, a wounded bird left for dead in the gutter. It was because of him and his cowardice that she had nobody left to protect or save her, and nobody else to blame for her fate, not even her bloody gods.
He would dig until his muscles burned and then dig some more, wiping the dirt and tears from his face as he flung his pain and regret and hopes and dreams over his shoulder with each shovelful of earth. He would dig and dig until his body collapsed and he had to be carried back to his modest cell to rest until he awoke the next morning and started all over again.
Sansa felt more connected to her father than ever before, as if his very essence was reaching out to her from the tree. A warm wind blew and she felt as though she was wrapped in his embrace once again, safe and at peace. The feeling overwhelmed her and she fell to her knees, tears slowly starting to trickle down her cheeks as she suddenly felt the loss of him all the way through to her very soul. Her mind flashed back to the last time she had seen him, the look of shame in his eyes as he sacrificed his honor for their lives, the sound of her screams as he was forced onto Ser Ilyn's block, the sound of Joffrey's glee as the sword sliced through his neck. But that wasn't the last time I saw him… she thought as her shoulders began to shake. The image of his decapitated head on a spike, which was burned into her mind's eye, appeared again and wouldn't go away no matter how hard she tried.
Sandor watched as Sansa collapsed onto the snow, her head hung in her hands and her wails of sorrow echoing across the pond. He knew he should leave, that she would be mortified to know anyone saw her like this. But he also knew she was scared and in pain and incredibly vulnerable, and he'd be damned if he walked away and left her alone and defenseless again.
He took a few tentative steps towards her, wincing as his boots crunched in the snow, but she didn't hear them over her guttural moans. The sound of her cries pierced into his soul, and he could no longer control himself. He ran to her and stopped a few steps away. "Little bird…" he said softly, unsure of what to say or do but overwhelmed by the urge to save her from whatever was causing such pain.
She turned to him as she sat upright again, and they locked eyes. The moonlight shone across her face as it flashed from sadness to shock to anger to pain before settling back into sorrow, her mouth opening and closing a few times. No words came out, yet her eyes screamed at him, desperately begging him for solace. He took another step towards her, his eyebrow raised as if asking for permission, and she gently nodded her head. He tentatively placed his hand on her shoulder and she reached up and covered it with hers, squeezing it gently as tears began to roll down her cheeks again. Each drop felt like an arrow slowly piercing through the armor around Sandor's heart.
Sansa stared up at the man towering over her and her shoulders began to shake again as the last of the memories she had forced into the deepest depths of her mind came flooding back. She had never felt this weak or fragile in her life, the culmination of every emotion on the spectrum at once a knife to her unprotected gut. The warmth of his hand on her shoulder comforted her more than his cloak ever had, and she found herself desperately craving his full embrace. She tugged on his hand and he hesitated before trying to pull it away from her. She yanked harder and he begrudgingly knelt down beside her, knowing that he was risking everything he held dear by doing so.
She leaned into the warmth of his torso and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him with a shocking strength as she began to fall apart again. He sighed as he finally let himself give in and wrapped his arms around her as she buried her head in the crook of his neck. He held her as her body trembled, rubbing her back, stroking her hair, and trying to comfort her in every way he could think of until her sobs slowly waned. "It's too much, Sandor," she croaked into his chest. "I just… I can't do it anymore, I can't be strong..."
He squeezed her tighter as placed a gentle kiss on the crown of her head before resting his chin on it. "Shh…" he said as he stroked her hair again, the last of her shudders slowly subsiding. "It's okay, Little Bird-"
She whipped her head up and locked eyes with him. "Don't you DARE call me that!" A look of shock ran across his face as his little bird grew fangs and morphed into a wolf before his eyes. She pushed herself off of him and rested on her heels. "This is all YOUR FAULT!" she hissed as she wound her hand back. "YOU did this to me!" She slapped his unburnt cheek with pure venom in her eyes.
Stunned, Sandor brought his hand to his stinging cheek and stuttered. "Little- Sansa, I just- I didn't-"
She punched his chest. "YOU DID!" she yelled as she stood up. "I was DONE with that part of my life. I locked up those memories and threw away the key!" she said as she paced in a circle around him. "And then YOU show up out of NOWHERE, key in hand and-" She growled in frustration as she kicked him, knocking him back to the ground. "I WAS FINALLY FUCKING HAPPY!" she lied to both of them as she knelt above him. "Why are you HERE? How are you alive? WHY are you alive?" she asked with bated breath.
He leaned up on his elbows as he began to respond and she scoffed. "Oh, wait, I just remembered- I don't care." She punched his arm, then his chest, and then his stomach before returning to his chest to start again. Her blows didn't phase him, but the pain in her eyes cut right through his soul. He knew he deserved this, and more, so he let her take her anger out on him, holding back his temper as she continued to wail on him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
His lack of reaction frustrated her even more and she growled as she dug her knee into the old wound on his thigh, causing him to finally cry out in pain. "Sansa, stop-" He caught her fist in his hand just before it reached what was left of his ear. He took a deep breath to calm the emotions swirling inside of him and tried desperately to soften the anger in his voice. "You've every reason in the world to be angry, Sansa, with me, the world, the gods, all of it. But what good will this do either of us?" he asked as he sat up and locked eyes with her. "There's a bloody undead army marching towards us and I'll be of no use if you keep-"
She cut his words off with a kiss, momentarily stunning both of them. She pulled her head back and met his eyes again, a wolf and a hound locked in a trance, their blood boiling, the heat of their panting breath creating a cloud between them. He dropped her hand and moved to push her off of him, but she placed her hands firmly on his shoulders and brought her lips to his again.
"Fuck the army," she whispered into his good ear. "And FUCK the Night King," she said, louder this time, as she gently nibbled on his lobe. "I'm done worrying about everything." She kissed him again with an almost animalistic sense of urgency, her fingernails digging into his scalp as she pressed herself against him.
Sandor began to lose himself in her kiss, his senses slowly melting away as she plunged her tongue into his mouth. He used his last ounce of self-control to cup her face in his hands and break their kiss. "Little bird, stop. Please. You don't know what you're doing..."
"I'm a woman full-grown, Clegane, not your little bird anymore. I know FULL WELL what I am doing." She scoffed as she forced his lips to hers again.
He felt the last of his control slowly melting away as his hands began to explore the curves of her body. Her mouth moved to his neck and his cock jumped. "It's been too-" He couldn't contain his moan as she tugged on his hair. "I might not be able to stop myse-"
She cut his words off with another kiss. "I don't want you to stop," she breathed into his mouth. "Help me, Sandor," she said as she rolled her hips and brushed her core against the stiffness straining against the seams of his britches. "Help me forget everything, please," she said, her eyes practically begging as they bore into his.
"Bloody hells, Sansa," he growled as he ran his fingers through her hair and instinctively bucked into her. "Are you sure this is what you really want? A romp in the Godswood with the bloody Hound? There's thousands of men beyond those walls you could choose from…" He scoffed before his mouth enveloped hers again.
"Yes, I'm sure. I want, no, I need lose myself right now. With you-ooh..." A soft moan escaped her lips as his gently sucked on her neck. "I trust you, Sandor. I always have. You won't hurt me…"
"I wouldn't be so bloody sure about that, Little Bird," he said as he bit down on her collar bone. She yelped and ground into him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing his lips back to hers, and kissed him with a renewed sense passion. He finally let himself give in to her ministrations and swirled his tongue with hers as he wrapped her legs around his waist and stood up.
He walked the few remaining steps to the Weirwood tree and rested her against it. Time seemed to stand still as they melted into each other's embrace, a heady mix of anger, regret, frustration and lust overtaking them. His mouth eventually moved to her neck and laid a trail of gentle kisses and nibbles to the collar of her gown, sending shivers down her spine and a fresh wave of arousal to her core. She frantically pawed at his back, pulling his body closer to hers, desperate for friction to sate the ache inside of her. Her soft mewls of pleasure as she ground wantonly against his groin were slowly driving him into a frenzy, and Sandor struggled against the overwhelming urge to lift her skirts up and take her right then and there.
She suddenly cupped his face in her hands and took a deep breath as she brought his eyes to hers. She smiled sweetly at him before placing a tender kiss upon the burnt corner of his mouth, then pulled her head back to study him in the moonlight as her thumb caressed the scars on his cheek. He was taken aback by the intimacy of her actions, and placed his hand over hers. His eyes explored hers, searching for meaning as she gently caressed the scars on his forehead, tracing them down the side of his face before cupping his cheek again, and he felt an ache begin to grow in his heart.
A low growl rumbled in his throat as he briskly pulled her hand away and shook the feeling off as he moved in to kiss her again. Reading his signal, she slid her hands down his neck, over his shoulders, and down his sides before grabbing his buttocks. She pulled him back against her as her tongue ran across his lips, prying them open for her again. He traced the curve of her breasts through her cloak, gently squeezing as his mouth explored hers. She quietly gasped in pleasure, spurring him on and his hand moved further south.
His fingers grazed the outline of her ass before trailing up and down her thigh. She reached down and adjusted her skirt, laying it across his arm as she began to stroke his hardness through his britches. He groaned into her mouth as she squeezed him, and she increased her pressure as she began stroking him. His fingers traced their way back up her thigh and she shivered as he got closer and closer to the heat between her legs. He hesitated just before he reached her apex, and Sansa broke their kiss. "Please, Sandor. I want this. I want you."
He growled again as she palmed his head and bucked into her as his hand finally reached her woman's place. He could feel her dampness through her smallclothes and she shuddered as he pressed down on her entrance. "Aye, it appears you do, little-"
Sansa bit down on his lip. "My name is Sansa. Now stop talking and do as I asked." He chuckled as he nodded and began to rub her as their lips entwined once more. A moan fell from her mouth into his when he found her nub, and his lips curled into a smile as he rubbed circles around it through the soaked fabric. She tightened her grip around his cock as he hooked his thumb into the edge of her smallclothes and tugged until the laces loosened. He slipped his hand inside and cupped her mound, the heat of her arousal radiating into his hand.
She whimpered as he pressed his palm against her nub, gently grinding against it as his fingers hovered over her entrance. She squeezed the head of his cock and his breath caught in his throat. Bloody hells, he thought to himself as his member began to throb. I haven't even entered her yet and I'm ready to spill like some green squire. He bucked into her fist a couple of times before strategically adjusting his position, causing her to slip down slightly, and her hand quickly went to his shoulder to stop herself from falling.
He buried his face in her neck as his fingertips rubbed against the slickness of her folds before finding her sensitive bundle of nerves again. She inhaled sharply and rolled her hips, wantonly rubbing herself against his hand as she edged closer to her release. His thumb replaced his fingers as they slid back down and pressed against her entrance. He continued to rub tight circles on her nub as he slipped the tip of his finger inside her, and she moaned softly into his ear as his finger slowly inched deeper before reaching her core.
He began to slowly pump inside of her, amazed by how tight she was around just his finger, and his balls twitched as he imagined what it would feel like to ensheath himself in her. His thumb flicked her nub as he inserted another finger and her pleasurous mewling nearly sent him over the edge. He began pumping them as her walls adjusted around him, and soon she was meeting his thrusts, increasing the pace. He curled his fingers to rub against another patch of nerves and her muscles began to tense as she ground against him.
"Fuck," she moaned into his ear as he nibbled on her neck and switched back to pumping his fingers inside of her. The throbbing of his cock became almost painful as it strained against the seams of his trousers while he brought her closer to her crest. Her breath soon became ragged and her walls began to clamp down around him. He smiled against her lips as he wiggled his fingers and thumb in unison and within moments she was singing for him. The sound of his name on her lips as she peaked sent Sandor over the edge, and before he could stop it, his member stiffened and his seed spilled out, soaking his britches.
She clung to him as her contractions slowed, her breath hot on his neck in sharp contrast to the cold wind that blew around them, and Sandor began to feel that uncomfortable ache in his heart again. He pulled his hand away from her and set her down, his eyes focused on the snowy ground as he smoothed her skirts. "Alright, Little Bird," he said bruskly. "You've had your fun, now let's get you back inside your cage before that brother of yours has my head." He gently grabbed her arm and began walking back to the path through the trees.
"Sandor," Sansa said softly, stopping in her tracks as her mind began to come back down to reality. He continued walking, tugging at her arm, and she stood her ground. "SANDOR!" she yelled as she pulled him back to her.
"WHAT?!" he roared as he turned back to face her, his eyes peering just beyond her shoulder.
"Look at me!" she commanded, grabbing his chin and turning his head towards her. His eyes met hers and the tears that he saw brimming began to melt away his armor at an alarming rate. "I'm not your little bird anymore, Sandor, and this isn't King's Landing." She reached up to cup his cheek and he fought the urge to jerk his head away. "I may be burdened with responsibilities that overwhelm me at times, but being the Lady of Winterfell is a role I willingly chose, and I am free now, finally free to do as I please, with whomever I please. I'm a Stark, in name and, finally, in truth- a wolf cannot and WILL not be caged."
Sandor huffed. "Aye," he said as he shook off her hand and put his mental armor back on. "And who better for a wild and free wolf to toy with than a lowly bloody Hound..." he muttered as he turned away from her and began walking away again.
Sansa sighed in frustration as she ran to catch up with him and stood in his path, her hands on her hips. "I've no idea what you've been through since Blackwater, but I know you, Sandor Clegane. You are NOT a lowly dog, and you never have been. You're the most honorable and truthful man I have ever met." He shook his head and stepped around her. She grabbed his shoulder, stopping him once again and turned him back to her. "You told me yourself- a Hound will die for you, but never lie to you."
He bared his teeth as his eyes met hers again. "I don't need your pretty words, Lady Stark. It's kind of you to try and throw me a bone, but I will NOT have you filling my head with your little fantasies about a bloody Knight hidden beneath a Hound's fur. I'm no Ser, and I never will be." He pushed her aside and strode angrily down the path through the trees.
Sansa's mind and heart were reeling as she followed him through the trees and into the courtyard. Why must he be like this? It's maddening! What must I do to prove to him that I am being truthful? She shook her head as they entered the keep. He stopped when they reached the stairwell to her chambers and took her hand in his, kissing her knuckles before dramatically bowing to her.
"I believe Lady Stark can see herself to her chambers from here." He began to release her hand and she clamped hers down around his, tugging him back up to her.
"Enough!" she exclaimed, her voice heavy with frustration. "Why are you doing this?" she asked as her free hand shook his shoulder. "Why can't you just accept that I care for you? That I lo-" Sansa finally managed to stop talking before the rest of her thoughts spilled out.
A look of shock flashed across Sandor's face, replacing the anger and resentment that had been there just moments before. "Please, Sandor. I want you- no, I need you to stay with me tonight." There was a renewed sense of urgency in her voice, and fear began to mix with the frustration in her eyes. "Please, Sandor, please stop fighting against me. I need you now more than I ever have…"
Sandor took a deep breath as he contemplated her words and the tears that were beginning to brim in her eyes again. She doesn't want this, she CAN'T possibly want this. She's scared and lonely and desperately grasping at ghosts. She squeezed his hand as her tears began to fall, and he could no longer contain the ache growing in his heart. "Sansa…" he said, his voice low and graveled. His mind was whirling as he stared at her, an overwhelming mix of hope and hopelessness threatening to consume him. "I can't…"
She placed his hand on her waist and cupped his cheek as she leaned up to place a gentle kiss upon his lips. "It's okay, Sandor. I would never hurt you." He wanted desperately to pull his face away from hers, but he found himself unable to move. "There's a very good chance we may not have much time left among the living, and I don't want to spend another second of it in regret, wondering what could have been. I can't do that again…"
The last of Sandor's armor fell to the ground as her eyes bore into his soul. "Neither can I," he murmured as he brought his lips to hers again. There was a gentleness to their kiss this time, the angst, lust, and urgency having faded away, and time stilled as they stood by the steps, getting lost in each other's embrace.
Sansa took a deep breath as she took a step back from him. "I'm glad that's finally settled," she said as she took his hand. "Let's go make the most of what little time we have left, shall we?" Sandor nodded, smiling to himself as she led him to her chambers.
Sadly, work and Easter got in the way of my unrealistic deadline of having this up before episode 2 and this is a couple days late. But as a consolation prize, I have a bonus chapter mapped out, and will definitely have it up before episode 3 airs and really blows away my headcanon (or complements it, we'll see :-) )
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Sansa barred the door to her chambers and Sandor chuckled as he pulled her towards him. "Afraid of getting caught?" he asked as he squeezed her hips. "I thought you were free to do as you please…"
She smiled as she shook her head. "I am, I'd just prefer we don't have any interruptions." She shrugged off her cloak, kicking it to the side as she stood on her tip toes and leaned up to kiss him. She was tall for a woman, but he still stood a full head above her. Sandor stayed as he was and chuckled again as he watched her strain. Sansa pursed her lips and gently punched his arm. "Do you intend to spend the entire night mocking me?" she asked, struggling to hold back her own laughter.
"It's an enticing thought, but I've other ideas in mind for you, lass," he said as he bent over, his beard brushing over her lips.
"Is that so," she asked, tilting her head to dodge his kiss. "And what might those be?"
"I want to see how many ways I can make you sing for me before dawn," he whispered, his words and warm breath against her neck sending a shiver down her spine.
"Well, you've already found two…" she murmured as she untucked his shirt and ran her hands up his stomach to broad chest, his hard muscles rippling under her caress. "Are there others you can think of? Ideally without a knife to my throat this time…"
A low laugh rumbled through Sandor's chest. "I was hoping you'd forgotten that bit…" His lips gently sucked on her neck and she moaned softly, her witty retort dissipating into the air between them. As his mouth moved back to hers, he reached behind her and began untying the laces of her dress. It soon fell to the floor, and he took a step back, admiring the shadows of her form through the sheerness of her shift. His eyes trailed the curve of her neck down and around her supple breasts. He noticed her nipples poking through the material, and licked his lips as he imagined what it would be like to wrap his mouth around them. His cock began to stiffen as his eyes followed along the curve of her hips before resting upon her woman's place, the fiery curls calling to him through the translucent fabric.
A blush rose from Sansa’s chest to her cheeks as he studied her, and she instinctively covered her breasts with her arms. His gaze moved back to her face, where he caught a flash of embarrassment roll across it as she bit her lip, and he could swear he was standing before the Maiden herself. His eyes darkened with desire, and he licked his lips again as he reached for her.
Sansa flinched when he gently touched her wrist, and Sandor's heart dropped as he swiftly pulled his hand away. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I thought you-"
Sansa sighed as she shook her head. "I do, it's not that, I just…" Her eyes fell to the floor, and her voice became barely a whisper. "I've never…"
Bloody hells, she IS a maiden! Sandor took a deep breath as he cupped her cheek, and gently tipped her head back towards his. "It's okay, Little- Lady Sansa, really. We don't have to take this any further." He felt his cheeks flush for the first time in his life, and dropped his hand from her face as he stepped away. "I'm sorry, Sansa, had I known, I never would have- err… umm… I would have found another way to help you lose yourself in the Godswood, one that left you, umm… intact." He winced as he cursed himself for butchering what may have been his last opportunity to feel her touch again before the end of the world.
Sansa took a deep breath as she reached for his hands. "It's not that, either, I just…" She held back a shudder and pushed her painful memories as far back as she could, squeezing his hands to remind herself of the happiness and pleasure he had brought her, could still bring her. "I've never done this with someone I… Who wasn't… Or cared about…" She sighed again. "I want this. I want you, Sandor, more than anything in the world right now. And I trust you,” she said as his eyes met hers again. “Just… please, be gentle and patient with me. Okay?"
Sandor's heart sank as he read between the lines of what she was saying, and wrapped her in his arms. "Of course," he said, laying a kiss upon the crown of her head. "I would never dream of hurting you, and I will personally kill any fucker that has or ever tries to again." A low growl rumbled in his throat, and he took another deep breath to calm the fire burning inside him, not wanting to scare her. "I want you too, Sansa, and I have for ages if I'm being honest." He brought her gaze to his again. "If at any point you want to stop, or I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you need to tell me immediately. Understood?"
Sansa nodded. "Thank you," she said as her lips curled into a smile. "And in return, you'll have to tell me what pleases you. I've never cared to learn what men enjoy..."
Sandor held back a chuckle as he leaned down to kiss her. "Oh, you'll know when I'm pleased," he rasped into her ear before running a trail of kisses down her neck. He felt her muscles relax in his arms, and he hooked his fingers under the straps of her shift. He caressed her shoulders as he slid the fabric over them, his lips following its path down her arms as it fell to the ground. His mouth made its way across her chest before peppering kisses down the valley between her breasts.
Sansa tentatively raked her fingers through Sandor's hair, and she felt his lips curl into a smile as they made their way to her nipple. He licked a few circles around her bud before lightly flicking it with his tongue, and her grip tightened as she gasped in pleasure. His hand reached up to cup her other breast, bouncing the weight in his palm before gently squeezing it. His mouth enveloped her nipple fully and he softly sucked as his fingers rolled her other one into a stiff peak. He could hear her heart begin to beat faster, and he increased his pressure slightly, eliciting a soft mewl from her lips.
He felt her body subtly shift and peered down with hooded lids to see her thighs begin to rub together as he continued his ministrations. Though he could have spent a lifetime toying with her teats, the scent of lemons, lavender, and her essence was calling to him like a siren's song. His free hand replaced his mouth on her breast, and he licked a trail down her ivory white stomach as he knelt down before her. His tongue dipped into her belly button before peppering a row of kisses across her abdomen. The soft tickle of his beard against her sensitive skin caused her to shiver, and she couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her lips.
"Is something amusing, Lady Stark?" he asked as his hands slid down the curve of her sides before resting on her hips.
Sansa smiled as she looked down at him. "Sorry, I've just never been touched there before, let alone kissed."
"I see…" He smirked as his hands cupped her rump and gave it a gentle squeeze before tracing a line down her long legs. He gently grabbed her ankle and brought her foot to his lips, kissing the arch lightly before setting it back down beside her shift. She covered her hand with her mouth to stifle her next giggle. "I take it you haven't been kissed there, either," he said as he mimicked his motions with her other foot, setting it further apart as he pushed the shift to the side. He ran a trail of kisses up her calf as his fingers grazed her other leg, following along to her knee. He leaned his head around and blew on the sensitive skin where her legs bent as he brushed his knuckles against the other and she could no longer contain her laughter. He joined her for a moment as he spread her legs slightly further apart. "It appears there are many places you’ve never been kissed," he said, a mix of amusement and arousal in his voice.
He brought his mouth to her skin again and slowly nibbled his way up her thighs. "It appears so-ohhhh." Her words turned into a moan as he buried his nose in the soft copper curls between her legs, brushing against her nub as he inhaled her scent. What is he- her train of thought began to run off the tracks as his tongue jutted out and flicked her nub, sending a fresh wave of desire flooding to her core. Why would he ever- He enveloped her mound with his mouth and she could no longer think of anything but the heat of his breath upon her.
Sandor had intended to tease her for a while, drawing out her anticipation and pleasure, but a few drops of her sweet nectar fell into his mouth and he could no longer hold himself back. He plunged his tongue inside her entrance and drank from her, his cock growing painfully stiff as her essence filled his mouth. He pulled his head back and blew on her as he dug his thumb into the old wound of his thigh to bring himself back from the edge. Her hands returned to his hair as her body shivered with pleasure, and she wantonly pulled his mouth back to her as she adjusted her stance, opening herself further to him.
He acquiesced to her desire and ran his tongue up her slick folds, tracing circles around her throbbing nub before returning to her entrance. Her grip in his hair tightened with each passing, spurring him on, and he brought his hands to her rear, his fingers digging into his flesh as he buried his tongue in the heat of her cunt again. His nose pressed against her clit, inhaling her intoxicating scent, and he swirled his tongue inside her in time with it. Her breath began to hitch and she gently tugged his head upwards so his mouth enveloped her nub again. Aye, she prefers this, he noted to himself as he lapped at her bud like a dutiful dog.
Sansa's skin began to sing as he brought her closer to her peak, and she felt as though she might explode like wildfire at any moment. She had pleasured herself before, but the softness of his tongue contrasted with the roughness of his beard and the heat of his mouth against her was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Her fingernails grazed against his scalp as he began to gently suck on her nub, and the low growl that rumbled through his mouth onto her sent her teetering towards the edge of her release.
Sandor felt the muscles in her thighs begin to tremble, and he tightened his grip around her waist to steady her. He quickened the pace of his tongue's circles and flicks and her fingers clenched around his hair as her breathing became erratic. He stiffened his tongue and pressed it down upon her button, and she began to sing. He wiggled his tongue against her and her song became a quiet inhale as she tugged almost painfully on his hair while her entire body stiffened. He flicked her a few more times and his name fell from her lips as a song. He plunged his tongue into her entrance as her sweet nectar poured into his mouth.
Her body trembled as another wave of pleasure washed over her, and her knees began to buckle as her walls clamped down around his tongue, another breathless moan falling from her mouth. He withdrew his tongue, lapping at her juices as her muscles quickly turned to jelly in his hands. He smiled as he picked her up and carried her to her bed, gently laying her down upon the furs. "Gods…" she murmured, her eyes still closed in ecstasy.
Sandor beamed with pride as he stepped back and studied her beautiful form. An intoxicating blush still flushed the ivory skin of her chest, trailing up her elegant neck to her cheeks. Her breasts heaved as her breathing slowly steadied, and her face was one of pure pleasure and satisfaction as she came down from her peak. His cock began to throb against the constraints of his britches as he burned this heavenly image into his mind, and he mindlessly began to palm himself through the fabric.
Sansa's eyes fluttered open a few moments later and his hand quickly dropped as she turned to him. "I had no idea that was even…" Her words morphed into a happy sigh as she smiled at him in gratitude, the flames of the candles behind him sparkling across her eyes.
"Aye, little wolf," he said, smiling back at her as his heart began to swell. "There are greater pleasures I can bring you, if you'll allow me-"
"Yes, please," she said, momentarily shocked by how quickly she had jumped at his offer. She shook off her feeling of shame as she reached for him, hooking her fingers in his britches and pulling him towards her. "But I'd like to bring you that kind pleasure as well," she said softly as she bit her lip.
His cock twitched almost painfully as he pictured her rosy lips wrapped around his member, suckling his seed from him. He took a deep breath as she began to untie his laces. Another time, perhaps, he thought to himself as he pulled his shirt over his head. This is about her tonight, not me, and if she takes me in mouth there's no way I won't spill into her within moments. He shimmied out of his britches as he crawled onto the bed and laid a kiss upon her lips.
"I've an idea of how we accomplish both," he said, his voice low and sultry as he climbed on top of her. He gently parted her legs with his knee before brushing it against her center. "That is, if you're okay with-"
She brought her lips to his again as she wantonly ground against his knee. She moaned softly as she deepened their kiss and grabbed onto him, pulling his body fully onto hers. Sandor shuddered as his cock was pressed between her silky skin and the coarse hairs of his stomach and he shifted his weight to his elbows. Sansa hands trailed down his back to his waist as she spread her legs further apart. She grabbed onto his hips and lifted him up momentarily she wiggled a little further up the bed until his member was hovering over her entrance.
Taking her lead, Sandor's hand reached down between them and grabbed his cock, teasingly rubbing his head across her slickness. She moaned as waves of pleasure rolled through her body again, and her core began to ache with an overwhelming need to be filled. She bit down on his lips as he grazed across her entrance, and a low growl rumbled in his chest as he finally dipped inside. Gods, she's so tight, he thought as his manhood was met with a resistance that clamped down deliciously around the bundle of nerves where his tip met his shaft. Though he desperately wanted to plunge into her heat, to feel her walls clenching around his full length, he recalled her request to be gentle and instead, began to rub himself against her slick folds, coating himself in her juices before returning to her entrance. He pushed slightly further into her and stilled himself for a moment before repeating the process twice more, going slightly deeper with each pass.
Sansa moaned as he rubbed against her nub and the ache inside her grew nearly insatiable. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and when he entered her again she bucked into him. They both gasped as he fully ensheathed himself inside her. He stilled, and their mouths entwined as her walls adjusted around his girth. He began to gently rock inside of her as her grip around him slowly loosened, and gave her a few shallow thrusts before pulling himself out of her completely and starting the process over again, both relishing in the feel of him entering her as if it were the first time again.
He kept a slow and steady pace, grinding inside of her each time he hit her center. Sansa's whispered moans grew louder with each gentle thrust, and Sandor could feel himself quickly coming undone as her fingers dug into his back. I can't be as gentle as she needs, he thought as he was overcome with an animalistic urge to let go and chase his peak. His grasped at the pillow, bunching it into his fists as he desperately tried to hold himself back, but he felt himself losing control at an alarming rate.
He broke their kiss, panting as her gaze met his. Sansa saw the desperation in his eyes and cupped his cheek with her hand. "It's okay," she murmured before bringing her lips to his again. She crossed her ankles behind back as he entered her again, and slowly guided him into an increased pace of shallow thrusts as her hips rolled into his. Her head fell back as she began to lose herself in him all over again, and Sandor gently grabbed her leg and laid a trail of kisses from her knee to her ankle before resting it on his shoulder.
This new angle caused him to bump against a tantalizing set of nerves inside her and her mouth fell open as she gasped at the new sensation. Sandor smiled as he watched her face twist in ecstasy and steadily increased his pace as he continued to thrust into that sweet spot. Sansa's hands grasped at the furs as her body began to stiffen, and a breathless cry rang from her mouth as her walls clamped down around his cock, squeezing him so tight he felt he might burst. He growled as he pushed deeper into her almost unyielding heat, and reached her core as her muscles began to expand and contract around him.
"Yes," she cried as he plunged deeply into her again. "Sandor, Gods, yes!" Her cries became breathless again as his thrusts grew deeper and faster, an almost maddening pace. He felt his sack begin to tighten and his shaft stiffen, his breath erratic as her nails dug into his skin. He drove into her once more, grinding against her core as she began to contract around him again. Her name came out as a roar from the bottom of his chest as his cock throbbed and shot a stream of heat into her.
She quivered beneath him, crying out his name once more as her wave of ecstasy crested and came crashing down around him. He buried his face into her neck as his arms gave out, their cries of pleasure now soft moans as her walls continued pulsating, milking the rest of his seed deep into her center. Sansa gently grabbed his head and brought his mouth to hers again, tenderly kissing him until her shudders slowly subsided and he began to soften inside of her. He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose before sighing as he used the last of his strength to roll over onto his back, pulling her and the furs along with him.
Sandor cradled Sansa's head as she lay against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat as it slowly steadied. She nestled into his warmth as he slid his arm beneath the furs and wrapped it around her waist. He couldn't help the smile that curled across his lips, growing steadily until it encompassed his entire face. They lay there like that for what felt like hours, relishing in a sense of peace and contentment neither had quite experienced before.
"Thank you," she murmured sleepily as her fingers brushed lazily through the hair on his chest. She laid a tender kiss over his heart, which felt like it had swelled so large it would surely burst out of his chest at any moment. He kissed the crown of her head as he gently squeezed her shoulders, too overcome by emotion to speak. He felt the smile of her lips against his skin as her shoulders heaved with a contented sigh, and he closed his eyes as he ran his fingers through her fiery locks.
She began to softly hum a hauntingly familiar tune, her breath warm on his chest as she traced the silvery scars that spattered it. His mind began to fill in the lyrics as their breathing slowed and her hand came to rest over his heart.
Gentle Mother, strength of women,
Help our daughters through this fray
Soothe the wrath and tame the fury,
Teach us all a kinder way.
Her voice seemed as if it were floating away as his eyelids grew heavier and a warm tingle coursed through his veins. He barely noticed the dampness rolling down his cheeks as his consciousness began to drift into a glimmering world of felicity and hope.
Gentle Mother, font of mercy,
Save our sons from war, we pray.
Stay the swords and stay the arrows,
Let them know a better day.
Lyrics of this song "Gentle Mother, Font of Mercy", are not my own. They belong to the one and only George R. R. Martin, written in A Clash of Kings if I recall correctly...
Here we go! Final chapter of this work, right on time. :-) Thanks again for all of your kudos and feedback along the way, it means the world to me that so many people enjoy my "missing scenes"!
PS- Feel free to use Podrick's heavenly voice singing "Jenny of Oldstones" as your mental soundtrack for the latter part of this chapter- I sure did :-)
Sansa awoke entangled in Sandor's limbs, his slow and steady breath causing her head to gently rise up and down on his chest. She smiled as she rolled onto her side and pulled the furs up to her chin, sighing contentedly as he absentmindedly reached for her and wrapped her in his embrace once again. She lifted her head as his arm slid under her neck and nuzzled into his warmth, her body softly shaking in a silent giggle as the soft hairs on his chest tickled the skin on her back. "Someth…" Sandor yawned as he rested his chin on her head. "… amusing you?" he asked, stifling another yawn as his hand splayed across her stomach and pulled her closer.
Sansa smiled as she gently shook her head, a yawn escaping her mouth as her body settled and she began to drift back to sleep. Sandor's fingers brushed lightly across the curve of her waist and her body shivered again, whether it was the tickle or the tingling that began to course through her veins she couldn't say. She felt his body slowly stir as his hand crept up her side and tickled her again where her arm met her shoulder. She could no longer contain her laughter and yelped as her body jerked under his touch and right into his groin.
"Mmmm…" he cooed into her ear as his hand moved to cup her breast. She inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed across her nipple and began to roll it into a stiff peak. She bucked against him again as he gently tugged on it, a soft moan falling from her lips as a shock of pleasure shot through to her core. She felt his manhood twitch against her as his free hand reached down to her other breast and began to toy with it, sending another shock of wanton desire coursing through her. She covered his hand with hers and squeezed harder as he pinched her softly. "This amuses you as well, I see…" he whispered into her ear before gently nibbling on her lobe.
"Why yes, it does," she murmured as she tightened her grip on his hand. He squeezed her breasts again, tugging on her nipples a little harder this time before lightly grazing his palms across the stiff peaks. She moaned softly as she ground into him, feeling his manhood throb and grow between her cheeks, spreading them slightly and sending a fresh wave of arousal to her center. A low laugh reverberated through his chest, and the heat of his breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine.
He continued his ministrations as he gently sucked on her neck, and her thoughts began to jumble as a heady lightness filled her mind. Her skin felt as if it were singing as he teased and toyed with her breasts, and a familiar ache began to grow between her legs as he slowly rocked into her, his low moans vibrating against her neck as his cock slid between her cheeks. She guided his hand down to her patch of soft copper curls, and ran his finger across her folds to feel the dampness his actions had caused to pool there.
She mewled as he pulled on her nipple and rubbed her, coating his long rugged fingers in her juices, and wantonly bucked against him as he pressed tight circles around her nub. Her nails dug into his skin as she slid his fingers towards the now insatiable ache and pressed one inside. He curled his finger, rubbing against the sensitive patch on her inner walls as she pressed his palm against her clit, eliciting a sharp moan. "More," she whispered almost breathlessly as she ground into him. She could feel his lips curl into a smile as he obliged and slid another finger into her. She moaned again as he pumped slowly inside of her, but her ache still wasn't sated. "More," she said a little louder as she pressed his fingers deeper into her, too heady with lust to care about manners or daintiness.
He moved his hand a little faster, her unabashed desire along with the sound of her slickness as he pumped into her causing his cock to throb. He began to thrust himself between her cheeks, his balls gently slapping against his knuckles as she bucked into him. "More," she demanded as she reached between them and took his member in hand, stilling his movements. She whimpered as he removed his fingers and brought his hand to his lips, tasting her sweet nectar as she positioned his tip against her entrance, making it abundantly clear what she desperately wanted from him.
His lips curled into a smile once more as his hand returned to her waist, sliding down her leg until it reached her knee. He gently grabbed it and lifted her leg, opening her to him. She moaned as he slid his throbbing cock between her slick folds. "Please," she practically begged as his head rubbed against her nub before returning to her entrance.
"As my lady commands," he murmured into her ear as he slowly entered her. They both inhaled as each inch of him slid inside, and sighed in contentment when he bumped against her core, finally filling her. His free hand gently squeezed her breast as he began rocking into her, pleased at the ease at which he could move inside her now that her body was more welcoming to his girth than the night before. His hand trailed down to her stomach, fingers splayed across her soft skin as he leaned over and kissed her cheek while he pumped into her at a slow and tantalizing pace. She covered his hand with hers, fingers entwined, and reached up with her other to cup his cheek as she turned her head and brought their lips together. Their mouths explored each other's with a surprising tenderness as they unhurriedly rose closer to their peaks.
Sansa felt a blush begin to cover her chest and spread to her neck as he steadily brought her higher and higher. A wanton moan fell from her lips, breaking their mouths' embrace, and her hips rolled against his, increasing their pace with each thrust. The air was soon filled with her desirous mewls, his soft grunts, and the intoxicating sound of their bodies meeting faster and faster as she began to crest.
The muscles in her thighs started to quiver, and Sandor dropped her leg, gently rolling her onto her stomach and plunging deep inside her as her walls closed in around him. He pressed his chest against her back and kissed her neck as she sang for him, clenching deliciously around him over and over again as the waves crashing inside of her slowly subsided.
When her body stilled, he wrapped his arm around her waist and gently guided her to her knees as he rose, his manhood still ensheathed in her warmth. His free hand slid up to her shoulder, gently grasping onto it for leverage as he began to move inside her, and she bit her lips as her entire being began to tingle again. He kept to a slow and steady pace, relishing in the feel of her slickness against his shaft.
I wonder how quickly I can make her sing again before I peak, he challenged himself as he slightly shifted his angle and increased his pace. The muffled sound of her moans brought him closer and closer to his edge, and the hand around her waist moved south and began to toy with her nub. She gasped as he pressed down while he slammed into her core, and her walls began to clamp down around him, squeezing him as a low growl rumbled in his chest. His grip on her shoulder tightened and he plunged himself deeper as he felt the familiar tightness as his base.
The shrill and ragged screech of a dragon sounded in the distance and sent a menacing chill down his spine. Every hair on his body stood erect and his head whipped towards the window as he quickly pulled himself out of her. "What's wrong?" Sansa asked innocently, her head still clouded with pleasure.
"Shh," he whispered as he gently placed his hand over her mouth. They held their breath, ears perked and muscles tensed as they momentarily froze in place. They heard another, more familiar, screech in the distance and Sansa pushed his hand away as she breathed a sigh of relief.
"That sounds like Drogon," she said as her muscles relaxed. "He's probably just hunting closer to Winterfell than he normally does. It's nothing to worry about, you big scaredy-Hound." She giggled as she wiggled her hips beneath him, summoning him back to her. "I believe you were in the middle of something?" she asked, her voice heavy with desire again.
"Aye," he said almost wearily, grasping onto her excuse to avoid the growing pit in his stomach. "But I won't take you like some tavern whore, at least not until..." He sighed as he leaned in to kiss her, unable to speak the words they both knew finished that sentence. "It'll give me something to look forward to, now that I know you enjoy that angle..." She giggled again as he nibbled at her neck and down her spine, and gasped when his mouth enveloped her mound.
He lapped at her arousal, each drop slowly melting away the dread in his mind and replacing it with desire as his member began to stiffen again. She squealed as he picked her up and slid his body underneath hers in one swift motion. She brought her mouth to his, moaning softly as she tasted her nectar on his tongue as it swirled with his. He gently grabbed her hips, guiding her across his member, coating it in her juices again. He reached down and took himself in hand, centering his tip at her entrance before returning to her waist. He slowly lowered her onto him, his breath catching in his throat as he entered her.
He lifted her off of him before guiding her back down again. He repeated this process, setting a tantalizing pace as he kissed her deeply. Her hips began to buck into him of their own accord, slightly adjusting their angle with each thrust, and he loosened his grip around her waist to allow her more freedom. She bit down on his lip as he hit just the right spot and ground against him, eager to draw out the sensation.
A low growl rumbled in his chest as she tentatively explored different rhythms and motions, and his hands returned to her shoulders. "Try this," he said, his voice low and sultry and he gently pushed her torso until she was sitting straight up.
"What- Ohh," she moaned as the new angle caused a fresh wave of pleasure to course through her veins.
"I heard some women prefer this position above all others," he said, smiling as he reached for her hands, entwining her fingers with his as his gaze locked onto hers.
Sansa giggled nervously as she awkwardly bucked against him, her cheeks flushing into a crimson shade under his gaze. Her eyes fell to the furs as she tried again but was too embarrassed to feel any pleasure. She sighed in frustration as she fought the urge to cover her face in shame. "What do I do?" she asked softly, and would have been utterly mortified were it not for the reassuring squeeze of his hands.
Sandor found her maidenly shyness downright intoxicating, and resisted the urge to take control again. This is about HER finding her pleasure, not me, he reminded himself. He gently grabbed her chin and returned her gaze to his, trying his best to exude nothing but patience and acceptance in his eyes and voice. "Try starting out by riding me as if you were on a horse, experiment until you figure out what feels good, and then have your way with me." He smiled and raised an enticing eyebrow as he rested his elbows on the mattress and stiffened the muscles in his forearms for support.
She returned his smile as she took a deep breath and began to gingerly bounce. "Wow," she said as she tightened her grip on his hands. "You feel so- mmmm…" She moaned as she increased her gait, instinctively swirling her hips each time they met his.
"Aye," he murmured as her eyes closed in pleasure and he drank in the sight of her breasts softly bobbing in time with her bucks, his mind now fully cleared and filled with a heady arousal. She tested out a few different movements before settling on a steady rhythm of shallow thrusts, rocking him deep inside of her each time he reached her apex.
"Oh Gods," she moaned as her nails dug into his knuckles and her walls began to tighten around him. Sandor studied her, painting the image of her in his mind as she began to peak. Her eyes were lifted to the ceiling as a blush re-appeared on the porcelain skin of her chest, trailing up to her rosy lips as they formed a silent O. Her movements became erratic and he let go of her hands, moving them to her waist to steady her as her back arched and she began to shudder around him, and soon her joyous song was echoing across the stone walls of her chambers.
She collapsed into his chest, her breath hot against his neck as he continued thrusting into her, bringing her higher than she had ever felt before. Neither of them could deny the treacherous dragon screech that rang out again, closer this time, nor the foreboding chill in their bones that it brought with it.
Their mouths joined again and their gentle dance quickly turned to a feverish one, each pouring their fears and trepidation into their coupling. Their lips mashed together and their bodies melted into one as they hungrily pawed at each other, desperate to lose themselves in the chase of another peak, sensing it could very well be their last. Sandor gripped Sansa's waist, lifted her hips higher into the air and off of his cock, and held her in place. His fingers dug into the flesh of her cheeks as he bucked his entire length fully in and out of her over and over again, neither of them able to contain the grunts or moans that mixed together in their mouths.
Sansa's heat began to tighten around him and she broke their kiss to rest her forehead against his, their sweat mixing together as their eyes met. Each was breathless, right on the edge of release, their gaze steadily locked as he drove into her with an animalistic sense of urgency. A guttural howl roared from his chest as he slammed into her once, twice, and a third time before nestling deep inside her as his seed poured out into her center. Her song joined with his as she exploded around him, their cries of ecstasy mixing together as they reverberated around her chamber, nearly but not quite drowning out the sound of a horn that blew once, twice, and a third time before turning to a deafening silence.
Sandor's hands brought Sansa's hips down to his again before sliding up her back as he wrapped her in his embrace and brought her mouth to his again. He continued pumping into her, his cock still stiff as the last of his seed jutted out, and as she shuddered around him they both cried out again, though in pleasure or fear this time, neither could say.
Sansa clung to him, their mouths still entwined as an iceberg quickly grew in the middle of the sea of pleasure that carried her this far. He held her tighter as they continued rocking into each other, each knowing it was more for comfort than pleasure at this point and desperate to make this moment last as long as they could. She could no longer hold back the sob that was threatening to drown her, and she burrowed into his neck as her tears began to fall. He held her as tight as he could as his own tears began to slowly roll down his cheek and mix with hers as they pooled at the base of his neck.
The horns sounded again, and they both looked to her window to see that the glass had frosted over and was beginning to crack. Winter is here. They looked into each other's fear-filled eyes as her house words morphed and swirled in their heads, sending an icy fire through their veins. Sandor kissed her deeply before gently lifting her off from him and turning to get up from the bed.
Sansa grasped at him desperately as he tried to stand, pawing at his sides as she nuzzled into the scarred flesh between his shoulder blades. "Please, Sandor. Don't leave. I'm frightened. Please, keep me safe. Please," she begged, her voice catching in her throat as her long-lost wings popped out and wrapped around her in a sea of feathers.
Sandor turned and hugged her. "Aye, Little Bird," he said into her hair as he squeezed her tight. "That's exactly what I intend to do." He kissed her crown and his mouth trailed its way down her cheek until it met hers. Time froze for a moment as they kissed each other tenderly, savoring each little spark that danced across their lips, committing it to memory as porcelain slowly began to cover her feathers.
Sansa sighed as she broke their kiss, her porcelain armor turning to ivory as she slowly crawled towards the edge of the bed. Sandor stroked her cheek, staring into the sparkling sapphires that appeared as he wiped away the last of her tears, absorbing them into his soul. "It's time," he said softly.
Sansa nodded as he helped her up from the bed. He watched as her ivory form walked to the wardrobe, studying each curve as it swayed and the fiery locks that bounced with each step. His breath caught in his chest as she turned to him, a comforting smile across her rosy lips. His heart began to swell, and for a moment he felt as though he was in the presence of the Mother and the Maiden embodied in a single majestic being. He sighed as he stood, and a wave of peace began washing over him while they dressed in silence.
When they had finished, Sansa wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her lips against his. "Winter is here, Sandor Clegane," she said, taking his hands and squeezing them gently as she peered into his eyes. He watched her sapphires turn to a steely blue as a wave of strength coursed through his body, mind, and soul, and he suddenly felt as though he were the Warrior made flesh.
"Aye, Lady Stark," he said as he brushed a stray tendril of copper hair behind her ear. "But spring will soon follow. The birds will sing, the hounds will run free, and the world will blossom with life again after I kill those dead fuckers for good." He kissed her once more before they left her chambers and took their stations, a dream of spring giving them all the strength they needed to face the War for the Dawn.