Sandor walked down an alley that connected two of the major causeways in flea bottom. People ducked into doorways and scampered out of his path as he walked by. He hardly took notice. It had been that way ever since he could remember. He supposed it probably would have been that way even if without the scar. His brother hadn't had one, and people had the same reaction when he was close. Of course while Gregor hadn't had anything wrong with him you could see, he'd always been wrong, since birth, or at least that's what people had told him. Sandor was the younger one so he couldn't be sure. People, he thought bitterly. They never failed to show you just how small and petty they could be. Sansa Stark once asked him why he was so hateful. Experience, he'd told her. When the world shits on you enough times, eventually you just stop trying to shovel your way out. There were times, on the rare occasion that someone met his eye, that he could see the fear still lingering there, but it wasn't fear of him, not truly. They were afraid of The Hound, and it sometimes seemed like a lifetime since that man existed.
Thinking of his past was always a double edged sword. There were days he felt he'd never truly escape the weight of the things he'd done when he was The Hound, sworn sword of Joffrey Baratheon, but he couldn't deny there was a clarity of purpose, a simplicity to that life that he often missed. He wondered if there was anything from that time in his life that would say he really cared about. Certainly not his brother. Joffrey? He had been the boys protector since his birth, he recalled having some level of protective feelings for him when he was very young, before he became a sniveling little cunt. But no, when it came down to it in the end he abandoned him, chose his own hide over his king. Sansa? yes he did care about her, she was the beginning of the end for The Hound. Those damned Starks. Never in a thousand lifetimes would he have dreamed House Stark would be his undoing. Yes, Sansa was the start, but it was Arya that did it. Nasty little cruel bitch that she was, hiding all her insecurities and fears behind a smart mouth and a sharp tongue. She was so much like him, so angry, so guarded. She slipped under his armor, and before he'd even had a chance to stop it, he'd found himself caring. Caring what happened to her, caring what she thought and felt, and try as he might he'd hadn't been able to close that door again. He cared now, and caring was fucking complicated.
He stepped out into the Western Market, just inside the outer gate of the city. One of the Gold Cloaks walked across the street towards him.
"Lord Commander." He said giving a quick nod of salute, "I wondered if I could have a word?"
Sandor still hadn't gotten used to the level of respect that he was shown by his men. No one had ever looked to him as a leader before. Seeing his men look at him, not with suspicion or judgement but with genuine trust and respect was a feeling he was utterly unfamiliar with, at times he questioned if he even deserved it. In truth, he loved his job as Lord Commander, though he would never give Tyrion the satisfaction of letting that be known. It was all the things he'd enjoyed about being Joffery's protector, but with the added bonus that he was actual doing some good. He'd always hated this shitty city. Being part of making it better made him feel like maybe the fact that he was still alive wasn't a complete waste.
"Go ahead," he said to the Guard. What was his name? Arrick? He thought that was right.
"There's been some rumblings in Flea Bottom." He said, "As of right now it's just general unrest. People worried about food running out before winter's over. Not sure they trust the new King to keep them safe, but I think we should keep our eye on it. Things can turn from grumbling to rioting in a flash you know?"
"I do." Sandor agreed, "Good observations. Keep your eye on things and let me know if things seem to be escalating. Good work."
"I will sir." Said the young man, his face brightening at the praise, "Thank you sir!"
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From the Ashes (ASOIAF) (Sandor Clegane x OC)
قصص الهواةTessalynda Merryweather was never a proper lady. She fled her father's house at a young age in search of adventure, she has come back to Kings Landing only to unexpectedly meet a tall mysterious dark stranger who by all accounts shouldn't be alive...
