Silver Stag

Trouble On The Kingsroad

Sansa Stark was walking around with her loyal companion, Lady, when she bumped into a strange man.

"Pardon me, Ser." 

The man said nothing, only looking at her with a scowl etched on his face. 

"Do I frighten you so much, girl? Or is it him there making you shake? He frightens me too. Look at that face." Sandor Clegane, better known as The Hound, the Prince's sworn protector, appeared behind her.

The man had a permanent grimace etched on his face.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Ser." Again, the man said nothing, causing Sansa to turn to The Hound. "Why won't he speak to me?" 

"He hasn't been very talkative these last 20 years. Since the mad King had his tongue ripped out with hot pincers."

"He speaks damn well with his sword though." Prince Joffrey said, deciding to make his presence known. "Ser Ilyn Payne, the King's justice. The royal executioner. What is it, sweet lady? Does the hound frighten you? Away with you, dog. You're scaring my lady." The Hound walked away without another word, Ser Payne already having left, shortly after the Prince's arrival. "I don't like to see you upset. The sun is finally shining. Come, walk with me."

"Stay, Lady." The obediant direwolf sat where she was left, watching after her owner. Joffrey lead Sansa down to the Trident, offering her a sip of wine. "I probably shouldn't have any more. Father only lets us have one cup at feasts."

"My princess can drink as much as she wants. Don't worry... You're safe with me."

They heard a ruckus ahead. Soon Sansa's younger sister and an unknown boy with red hair came into view.

"I'll get you!" The boy shouted, playfully lunging at his opponent.

"Arya!" Sansa shouted, distracting her sister, causing her opponent to whack her on the arm.

"What are you doing here? Go away." Arya yelled, frustrated her sister had come to ruin a good time.

"Your sister?" Joffrey asked Sansa, who nodded. "And who are you, boy?" 

"Mycah, my Lord." The boy answered, not meeting the Prince's eye. It would seem he too had heard the rumours of the cruelty of Robert Baratheon's eldest son.

"He the butcher's boy." Sansa interjected.

"He's my friend." Arya corrected.

 "A butcher's boy who wants to be a Knight, eh? Pick up your sword, butcher's boy. Let's see how good you are." Joffrey taunted.

"She asked me to, my Lord. She asked me to." Mycah attempted to protest.

"I'm your prince, not your lord, and I said pick up your sword."

"It's not a sword, my prince. It's only a stick."

"And you're not a Knight. Only a butcher's boy. That was my lady's sister you were hitting, do you know that?"

"Stop it!" Arya yelled.

 "Arya, stay out of this." Sansa told her.

"I won't hurt him... Much." He brought his sword to the boy's face. Knowing there was nothing he could do, he made a sharp cut on his cheek. That was until Arya decided to whack him with the stick she held. "Filthy little b¡tch!"

"No no, stop it, stop it, both of you. You're spoiling it. You're spoiling everything!" Sansa yelled.

"I'll gut you, you little cսոt!" Joffrey threatened, pointing his sword at the young girl. What he didn't account for was her protective direwolf who leapt at him, sinking her teeth into his hand, causing him to instantly drop the weapon.