LION TRAP, game of thrones

𝐕. dirt

The journey was exhausting and grueling, accompanied by the eternal gossip and the never-ending taunts of the Kingslayer. But they ate freshly hunted game almost every day and gradually the old strength returned to Sansorr's body. He no longer had to ride the horse and so they soon left it behind near an inn. Now they made their way on foot and Sansorr almost felt like a real man again. Only he was still an outcast, damn it. He tried not to think about it too much.

"Will you allow us a bath?" The Kingslayer sat next to Sansorr, across from Brienne, who was roughly skinning a hare. And even though Sansorr would gladly condemn any thought the Kingslayer had, it was admittedly a damn good idea. He smelled himself by now, which wasn't exactly the nicest experience.

"We might be even less conspicuous if we stink less," Sansorr suggested, nodding in the direction of the river, next to which they had set up a small camp under the cover of dense undergrowth. Travelers passing by the river or crossing the bridge in the distance would hardly be able to see them.

Brienne eyed them briefly. "Hurry up," she muttered and continued to pluck at the hare she had skillfully killed earlier.

Sansorr couldn't help but grin. He hurriedly freed himself from his clothes and grinned when Brienne turned away with a jerk as Sansorr now stood naked before them. "Aye, don't complain. Could be worse," he laughed and stepped into the river. The cold was no more than a pleasant, wakeful stinging on his bare skin. He dived under and let the river caress his body. Had he gone just a little deeper into the river, the current would probably have been strong enough to sweep him away. Sansorr could let himself drift with it, far away from the madness he found himself in. Maybe then he could really go under somewhere, at least until all this shit had passed and he could go back to his family.

When he ran out of breath, he emerged gasping and brushed the dark curls from his face. They had grown again, as had his beard. He could do with a shave. He scooped water over his shoulders and scrubbed the stubborn dirt off his skin as best he could. He certainly wouldn't get clean, but at least he wouldn't be fully covered in dirt any more. His skin reddened under his scrubbing, but he enjoyed the feeling.

A little downstream stood the Kingslayer. The river covered his shame, but not his muscular torso. Sansorr had to swallow hard and immediately cursed himself. There was no way he could be so under-fucked that he could be turned on by someone like the Kingslayer. But if the blond kept his mouth shut, it was easy to forget what an asshole he was. A good-looking asshole is still an asshole, he reminded himself rudely.

"Do you need help?" he called mockingly to the Kingslayer when he returned his stare, only presumably not with the same ulterior motives as Sansorr. Now he turned away from Sansorr with the look of a man who was disgusted and afraid of Sansorr because he knew that Sansorr desired him the way this man usually desired women. Sansorr was already familiar with this reaction. It was the greatest fear of such men to be treated the way they usually treated women. How ridiculous. As if they knew they were doing something wrong, but ultimately only registered this misbehavior out of selfishness.

"Don't worry," Sansorr snorted venomously, "you're not to my taste." That wasn't even a lie. The Kingslayer was not a Northman; his skin was too soft and even if he was a fighter, he was too handsome, too perfect for Sansorr. He wanted a man, not a doll with a sword in it's hand.

"Ah, hm," the Kingslayer only said, suddenly not so quick-witted anymore and turned his muscular back to him, washing out his stringy hair. Sansorr let his gaze wander over him. Hardly any scars. Perhaps the Kingslayer really had never been caught in battle.

Sansorr trudged back to Brienne, slipped back into his clothes and immediately felt dirty again. "Don't worry," he murmured as Brienne turned warily to the Kingslayer for a moment, "He may be vain but even he won't flee naked."