The hound and the wolf (Sandor Clegane X OC )

Name Day

I so dearly hated tourneys. They were just an excuse to murder and drink which most men don't need a reason. Though, sandor loved them. He enjoyed the murder of men though most were not innocent.

I sat off the the side in an uncomfortably hard wooden chair, picking at the skin around my nails with the chorus of cheers and metallic slamming as sandor bested yet another man.

"Well struck, well struck dog." Joffery called, glancing back at me. Though now I stayed quite, it did nothing to silence the bubbling anger inside me.

"Did you like that?" He asked sansa, pointing down to the dead man.

"It was well struck, your grace." She agreed, quite as a butterfly.

"I already said it was well struck." He proclaimed, now annoyed.

"Yes, your grace." She mumbled before returning her gaze forward.

I reached my hand over and took hers, squeezing it gently as a comfort. Here I could not shield her young eyes from the violence surrounding her so just a gentle squeeze was all I could offer up in terms of comfort. It did anger me so to see her wince at every loud blow and to watch sandor strike down men.

Joffery called forward the contenders, Lothar brune and ser dontos, whom after a long moment of lateness he came fumbling forth. Armor undone and stumbling about, trying to retrieve the hemet he had dropped.

I scoffed, looking away from the sight of the man and towards a child below. He was Dirty and tiny, so very tiny. I watched as he scrubbed away the blood of the man sandor had just killed. Suddenly feeling very guilty, not for the man's death but for the boy that had to scrub away his blood.

"Have two. Have as many as you like." Jofferys sqeaky voice etched out from beside me.

"I'll be honored your grace." Ser dontos nodded, before being shoved back by a knight.

Joffery commanded for him to give him his fill of wine. He was forced to his knees as a funnel was shoved into his mouth, wine being poured down his throat as he choked.

"You cant." Sansa cried, making my heart beat a thousand times harder.

"What did you say? Did you say I can't?" He asked, daringly.

"She only ment it would be bad luck to kill a man on your name day." I answered, smiling a sweetly as I could muster.

"What kind if stupid peasant superstition-."

"She is right, what a man sows on his name day, he reaps all year." Sandor interrupted before turning away.

"Take him away. I'll have him killed tomorrow, the fool." Joffery announced.

Ser dontos puked up so much wine I too thought I would hurl.

"He is a fool, you're so clever to see it. He'll make a much better fool than a knight. He doesn't deserve the mercy of a quick death" Sansa offered and i nodded along.

"What a fool indeed, imagine him in a lovely jesters costume, my king. Would that not be quite lovely?" I squeezed out, clenching my teeth at the end to hold back my wicked tongue.

"Did you hear my lady ser dorros? From this day you'll be my new fool!" He cried, standing from his seat.

"Thank you, your grace. And you my ladies,  thank you." He said before being shoved out of view.

as soon as he had gone Tyrion had arrived.

"We looked for you on the battle feild. You were no where to be found." He sighed before taking a cup of ale.

"Ive been here ruling the kingdoms." He mumbled, taking his seat once again.

"And what a fine job you've done. Look at you." He said gesturing to sweet Myrcella before kissing her on the cheek.

"And you! You're going to be bigger then the hound, but much better looking. This one doesn't like me." He jested while gesturing towards my husband.

"Now be careful uncle, his wife here may toss you right off the wall." Joffery chuckled.

I gripped the arm rests tightly and closed my eyes in an effort to keep back the anger that so eagerly rushed into me.

"Ah, I've heard of your marriage to the gorgeous lyanna stark. And I see a baby on the way. You are quite a lucky man sandor." He quipped, walking over to me.

"It gets easier, my dear." He leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"What are you saying to her?" Joffery commanded.

"Merely that her tits have never looked better!" He jested, giving me an apologetic look before walking away.

"But on a heavier topic, I'm sorry for your loss my ladies. May he rest in peace."

"Their loss? Her father was a confessed traitor."

"But still their father. Surely loosing your own so recently you can find some sympathy." Tyrion interrupted.

Slowly I stood, offering my chair to tyrion and walking over to my husband. He stared down at me as everyone else did and I stood next to him.

"What is this? Have we bored you!" Joffery yelled.

"My apologies, your grace. the babe makes me sick at time. I wouldn't wish to be sick near the king. Would you be so kind as to let me stand with my husband?" I forced, smiling politely.

He sighed but nodded, ordering for the festivities to continue. Though after a few moments, myrcella quietly scooted her chair closer to me, slipping her hand into mine.

"Now what is this about, sweet girl?" I said, kneeling next to her.

"Whenever I feel sick, it makes me feel better when someone holds my hand." She whispered.

I nodded, giving her a small smirk before moving a piece of hair off her face and standing.

"You are good with them." Sandor whispered poorly.

"With what? Lannasters?" I mumbled.

"Children."