The hound and the wolf (Sandor Clegane X OC )

A Bath

After Peter so kindly ordered a bath of what i thought to be cold salt water be drawn for me he guided me down to a small room with what I'd seen peasants bathe in. It looked like a wooden barrel as it layed there, the water gently rocking back in forth.

"I'll be in your room when you're done lass." He assured closing the door to the small room.

I stared at the bath for a moment before huffing and beginning to strip off my clothes. With every pull of my arms something hurt, every peel of cloth caused a stinging of pain to shoot through somewhere until I was bare. Slowly I lowered myself into the cool water and gritted my teeth in pain as the salt water stung the gashes and cuts littered across me.

Though soon the stinging subsided and I closed my eyes. The water slipped around me, softening the grime that clung to me. The lantern above me casting orange light through my heavy eyelids making it hard to focus on anything other than its petulant brightness.

With one final sigh I looked about to find the sliver of brownish soap and grab it. I roughly scrubbed away at every part of me till the water turned a murky brown. A disgusted groan left me as I rose up out of the water and dripped over to my clothes.

With a quick inspection id decided it would do me no good to wear them. The holes and stains made it almost unbearable. With a huff I gripped the heavy leather coat and swung it on before gathering up the rest of my clothes and setting off down the hall towards the stairs then up a level to my quarters.

I let a loud rap of knocks bang against the door before speaking.

"Cover those eyes, plank, I've gotta change."

A soft chuckle came from the other side before he called for me to enter. There he sat on the stool that used to be behind the long desk in the corner, facing the wall.

Quickly I walked towards the chests across from our stacked beds and rustled through till I found a set of qaurens clothes. A larger than needed white shirt and brown trousers. I pulled them on quickly before clearing my throat.

"So, let's get a look at those wounds." He smirked, rubbing his hands together before he dug through the tan satchel by his side.

I plopped down beside him on qaurens bedside and stared at the needle that Peter was struggling to put the thread through.

"Give it here." I offered, outstretched my hand.

With quick ease from the many years of sewing and mending and banner making with the common girls I threaded the needle through and tied it securely before handing it back to him and standing.

I lifted my shirt to reveal the large and irritated gash across my side. He let out a groan and started in on the stitched. One after another he sewed it closed with skill. Though I'd been sewn up before this felt worse than I'd remembered.

"Gods Peter why does this hurt so bad." I grumbled, looking up at the sky as I tried to breath slowly and suppress the tears gathering in my eyes.

"Its angry, the cuts. Its gonna hurt more than usual since their all red." He jested before biting at the extra thread.

I groaned at the rough jerk before plopping back down.

"Thats the only big one, just some on my arms and one on my back." I mumbled before turning to show him the cut id discovered on my lower back. A small cut but long across the span of my back. He spread a thick ointment across the cut on my back and arms before giving me farewells and leaving.

My body hung heavily as qaurens legs rested against my hip. I pleaded in my mind to turn around, to look at his face but my body would not move, not for anything. Instead I reached back, placing my hand on his arm, my thumb drawing patterns gently.

"I'm really scared qauren." I whispered my lip quivering almost violently. "I don't know what to do without you...I can't lead your people like you, I can't sail like you, hell I can't even speak Turkish well enough to communicate with half the crew. What am I supposed to do?" I begged, now finally turning towards him.

His silence burned holes in my ears as I wept, shaking him gently the rougher and rougher till I was screaming at him.

"WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!" I screamed, sitting more hunched and desperate.

His silence was the only response but still I waited, waited for his eyes to open, waited for him to laugh at ny tears, waited.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!... I can't do it. I can't do it anymore. I can't" I begged.

"Please, please, please don't leave me. Don't leave me I beg of you." I cried, crippled by the fear of being alone, being in charge, being responsible for lives I knew I couldn't protect. I felt my heart strings tug as I remembered my time in kings landing, my loss, my gain, my love. My fear weighed me down as I slowly let my head rest on his chest as hiccups lept from me.

I knew even the fish in the deep could hear me but nothing stopped me as I pitifully wept, begging for him to wake. I let my body lay beside his as I calmed down. Quietly i told him about the day, about the boy who'd put him in this sleep, about the lions id fought, about the whole night I sailed the ship by myself. Though he never once answered I knew he would've been proud.

Would have jested about having big girl britches on and how he never expected such violence from a princess. While I spoke i felt sleep tugging at me as it drew me farther and farther away from the one sided conversation and into the depths of sleep.