Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Three

Sandor Clegane X Manderly!Reader - Wildest Dreams

A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song Wildest Dreams (TV) by Taylor Swift, which might have already been used for inspo at some point, but I love the re-release so much that I honestly don't care. Sorry it's been so long since I've updated, I've just been super busy recently and finding it hard to juggle everything at the same time. For this one, the reader is a Manderly. I hope you all enjoy it.

You released a high-pitched squeal as you stumbled, the grip on your wrist pulling you off-centre until you were colliding with a chest you knew all too well, silently chastising yourself for the overly vocal response Sandor had managed to elicit from you. 

When you first came to the capital and met Sandor, luring him in with a gentleness that he hadn't been used to, he had delighted in how easy it had been to get a response from you. A poke in the ribs left you squirming away from him with a loud cry of surprise and it had always left him shaking with laughter. But, more recently, the japes had faded somewhat, replaced with a weariness that he carried heavily on his shoulders. 

"You know, you don't have to kidnap me to get a reaction, Sweetness," you huffed, allowing yourself to remain leaning into his chest and pulling his arm a little tighter around your middle. "If you want my attention, you only need to ask," you pressed, hearing him let out a low grumble behind you. 

"I think we should leave King's Landing."

Your brow furrowed as the words registered, and finally, you turned to face the man you had loved from the first moment you had met him. "Why?" He swallowed, glancing away from you for a moment. "Sandor-"

"The King has become aware of our arrangement," he uttered, pressing his eyes closed for just a moment before finally looking down at you. "He intends on marrying you off to his uncle's squire. A punishment for me. A reward for you-"

"The boy that follows Tyrion around the Red Keep?" you interject. "Sweetness, he's a child. I'd hardly consider that a reward. Joffrey would be punishing us both with a single order."

He let out a shaking breath, his hand lifting to cup your cheek lightly, drawing a small smile to your face. In all of the time you had spent together, he had been so gentle with you; so different from the dangerous dog that the King saw him as. It was hard to believe that anyone would ever be afraid of him when he was capable of behaving the way he did with you. 

"Will you leave with me?" he started again, his voice so low, so unsure, that it made your heart ache. 

"My Love," you hummed softly, lifting your hand to cover his when he tried to retreat from you. "I would go anywhere with you."

"It'll be hard living-"

"But I'll have you," you interjected. "I don't care how difficult it is."

*Time Skip*

It had taken Sandor a full three days of travelling before he seemed to accept that no one was hunting the two of you. Three days of tense shoulders, grunted answers, and an insistence that you had to remain quiet at all times. And then, on the third night, seemingly out of nowhere whilst you were sitting huddled together for warmth, you'd felt his shoulders drop, relaxing just enough for him to release a gentle sigh. 

"If you could go anywhere," he started softly, lifting his arm to drape it around you, letting you huddle in closer to him, sapping the warmth from his body. "Anywhere at all," he pressed on. "Where would you go?"

You let out a hum as you considered the question. "White Harbour," you finally breathed out. "I haven't been able to return home since I first moved to the Capital; haven't seen my mother-"

"I'll take you there," he interjected. "I'll take you to see her."

You smiled softly, leaning further into his side, your face pressed into his shirt. "She'll like you," you told him softly. "She'll approve of how kind you are with me," you reiterated. "When I was a girl, my father insisted on bringing suitors to White Harbour and my mother was adamant that they were all awful brutes; unfit for her only daughter."

"I am an awful brute, Sweet Girl," he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head and drawing a snort of laughter out of you. 

"But you aren't a brute to me," you reminded him. "You're as soft as a puppy with me; she'll be able to see the difference."

The two of you sat quietly for a moment. "If she approves, does that mean you'll marry me?"

"I would marry you now, my mother's approval or not," you answered, watching as his lips twitched up into a half-smile. "I would've married you the first time you told me you loved me."

"I wanted to marry you then," he agreed softly. "Wanted to be able to call you my wife and prove to everyone that I was the only man that you had decided was worthy of your love."

"Lady Clegane has quite the ring to it-"

"Marry me," he interrupted, leaning down to nudge at your nose with his. "When we reach the next village, let me make an honest woman of you."

"Sandor-"

"Please, just at least tell me you'll consider it." 

You caught his face in your hands, forcing him to hold your eye contact. "There's nothing left to consider, Sweetness. I want to marry you more than anything in the world."

"Is that a yes?"

A soft chuckle slipped out of you at his question, your nose wrinkling up as you fought back laughter. "It was always a yes."

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