I want to break the cage- Game of Thrones- A song of ice and fire

Untitled Part 9

It had been about six months since I had last seen Mr Clegane. Now I knew he had forgotten about me, I thought perhaps I was an ivory Bird and not a porcelain one. But I am still as fragile and weak as before, more so without him. However much I try to respect myself, I cannot. As I am not myself without him, he has become a part of my being and to have him torn from me, kills me. How do I respect myself when I grovel and beg at the God's feet for him to come back to me? I can't.

Maybe I need to find another way of respecting myself, and try not to rely on another to help me do that. Or maybe I just cannot survive without him, it's probably that. I've got so accustomed to his being here that maybe I could focus on a time line with no intervals. I don't want to carry on the same cycle for the rest of my life, and I can't do anything as a woman with no money. So I must stay and outlive the torment of a mapped out life. Until Shireen is old enough to not need a governess I suppose. I suppose he had always made his choice with Margaery Tyrell, so I never had a chance anyway. The summer Rose will always triumph over me, her beauty so distracting, that nothing else matters.

But then a week later a horse rode into the stables, a dark destrier, looking out the window. I ran down the back stairs that led to the stables and unlocked the door, quickly opening it at the sound of horses stamping. It was late evening but I didn't remember a shawl.

He, was standing there. In glorious pain and mercy, the God's had answered my innocent prayers. That had a dangerous wanton feel to them, I saw nothing except for the first time I looked at him, when I really looked at him.

My heart was beating double time as his muscular figure walked to me. He was sweating, I could see that, the perfect male persona, he wiped his hand on a handkerchief, that he stuffed into his pocket as he sat in the other white wicker chair next to me. Slouching back into the chair his chest rose and fell at a steady pace and he pushed hair out of the way of his face.

"How are you sir?" Now I was looking him up and down. Wanting to hit myself as I wished I could see what was under his shirt.

"I am no sir, girl."

"Nor I a girl, I'm your Little Bird remember. We made that agreement."

"My Little Bird?" It was only then I realised what I hands and I stuttered a worried reply.

"I'm sorry, Ser- Mr Clegane, I did not mean to say-"

"No need to apologize Little Bird. You are not mine, I know that for a fact. You wouldn't waste a flap of your porcelain wings for an old dog."

"How do you know?"

"You would never give me your song, therefore I am right." My song? Does he want me to sing for him? He must have seen my questioning look because he laughed.

"Don't trouble your pretty little mind over it Little Bird. But if you knew, you'd agree with me. How has Shireen been?"

"Not a trouble if that's what your asking. She just, asks a lot of questions and gets distracted, nothing I can't handle though. You said you'd tell me your, tale of woe, about your,scars. When shall another time,be?" He sat up in he chair and looked out to the lawn where Shireen was still prancing around.

"Not yet, I want you to make a judgement of me, without knowing my past just yet. So, what is your judgement of my character Miss Stark?"

"That, courtesy and dignitaries would not away you, and you do not, wish to ever serve." He nodded and I bit the inside of my cheek, worried about what he would reply.

"Your judgement is singular to many, you did not even mention my face."

"I'm sorry sir, you told me to judge your character not your appearance, that is a different matter."