On the morning of the wedding, Tyrion got up early and after grooming himself to the best of his ability, assisted by one of the castle's servants, he left his room. He had to pay a visit before the ceremony.
Although it was an intimate wedding, you could tell that everyone was celebrating, even if they did not stop worrying about their daily tasks.
Tyrion noticed that they had cleared the snow, just off the path that would lead the bride to the Forest of the Gods. Even the tree, in front of which they would marry. As his footsteps led to his destination, he couldn't help but feel some envy. It was the first time that he attended a wedding where the two bride and groom really loved each other ...
Dodging servants and grooms, he reached the groom's room. He knocked on the door, and without waiting for an answer, entered.
A surprised, half-dressed Sandor turned annoyed.
- What the hell are you doing here, dwarf? - He shouted very upset when he saw it.
Tyrion ignored it. He just walked over to a small table in the center of the room and poured himself some water. It was early to start with the wine.
Sandor quickly put on a white shirt.
Tyrion watched him with amusement.
- Now that you are going to be the husband of a queen ... you should improve your manners a bit, don't you think? ... - he said smugly - ... and by the way, you don't have to cover yourself up for me ... It doesn't offend me in the least to see a man without clothes, and I certainly don't like you.
Sandor closed his eyes counting to ten. Tyrion was an important guest and he must not kill him before he married ... It would not be correct on such an important day, although, he did not lack reasons for it.
- I do not do it for that ... My body is not pleasant to see ...- he looked in the mirror -... Nothing is me is pleasant to see ...- he continued saying resignedly. He had trimmed his beard and tried, for once in his life, to comb his hair lightly so that the hideous scar on his face wouldn't show too much.
He turned away from the mirror and flopped onto the bed. He started putting on his boots.
- What do you want of me? .- he asked Tyrion without looking at him .- You have nowhere else to go to bother.
He cleared his throat before speaking.
- I wanted to tell you some things on behalf of King Bran and myself ... well, rather mine ...- he continued to observe him carefully -... but I think I should tell you something before ...
He put the glass with the water on the table and took the jug of wine ... no matter how hard he tried, he carried it to him. He poured two glasses and coming over gave her a Sandor. Sandor put down the boot he was holding and took it. He downed it in one gulp. He could tell from a league that he was nervous.
Tyrion sat back down in the chair where he had been sitting before, as far away as possible from an unexpected outburst of anger on Sandor's part.
- Comfort yourself thinking that you are the cleanest that you have been in all your life ...- he drank a drink slowly-. We are what we are Clegane and nothing can change that ... and despite the fact that I am much more handsome than you and that I had my chance. - Sandor looked at him with the face of few friends when he heard him say that. ... you hit the jackpot ...
Neither of them said anything for a few seconds. It was a sensitive subject for Sandor. Few people had hated as much as Tyrion the day they were told that he had married Sansa. He cleared his throat and asked:
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Wounds (Sansa & Sandor)
Fanfiction... what if the Hound had not died when consummating his revenge?" Sansa and Sandor
