An Inconvenient Flame [Sandor Clegane]

Chapter 9 - Saviour

           It was already mid day. The sun on its highest above our heads. We had all been dragged out of the Red keep to go to the docks because the new hand of the king had decided to ship the youngest princess Myrcella, the only princess of the Queen, off to Dorne. A decision hastily made by the had of the king, so that the queen couldn't intervene in the decision.

Seeing the tormented expression on her face brought me more glee than I could describe with words. Sansa and I had for weeks been her personal playthings. Sansa had also been the Kings favorite thing to torment and would certainly continue to be so until Robb relented his march on the capital. Robb had been named king in the north and gathered all fathers banner men, starting the war of five kings.

What a sight it had to be! I truly wished to see them gathered in the great hall in Winterfell and could only imagine the sight. Wishing myself far away from where I was standing next to Astra, I momentarily closed my eyes and just enjoyed the sun shining down on me. Astra noticed my behavior as always and hooked an arm around mine. I smiled without opening my eyes and continued to enjoy the moment.

As the minutes passed, all I could hear was how the Queen wept loudly, only fueling the satisfaction growing within my heart. Astra knowingly tightened her hold on my arm. This time I opened my eyes and arched a brow at her, which only resulted in us both snickering. I had grown incredibly fond of her, and her company. It no longer felt like I only had known her for a few weeks.

Completely and utterly bored, I suppressed a yawn, hiding it behind my hand after I had redirected my gaze to the rowboat growing smaller and smaller in the distance. The Queen had seized her weeping, and now only Tommen's resonated throughout the crowd. I turned to him for what ever brief moment only to see how Joffrey shifted from one foot to the other. He was quite restless and annoyed at the situation. I dared stare at him for a bit longer before turning to my sister in front of me. Her stoic stature was uncanny and I admired her for keeping her head up.

When Joffrey scoffed disrespectfully, I turned my gaze back to him, but only so I could look at Sandor. He stood behind the king, one hand on the handle of his sword hanging at his hip. He was still in the black and silver armor, dirtier than ever and with his Great-Sword strapped to his back. He never seized to make quite the impression on people, though usually negative.

Sandor scoffed and arched above before meeting my stare. As usual it was as if he had some 6th sense. His brown eyes duller than usual. He truly loathed being here, more than me. I held his stare for a few seconds more before turning away, head held high and without acting like I had done anything wrong. Sandor kept staring shamelessly at me for at least a few seconds more before he also turned his gaze ahead. I was certain the edges of his lips turned upward for just a second. Impressed or otherwise, it was still an unusual reaction from him.