An Inconvenient Flame [Sandor Clegane]

Chapter 36 - I don't make love

I went to find Sandor after I had returned my bowl, he was once again chopping wood in the outskirts of the forest. It was a thing of his because it didn't require him to interact with any of the others in the village. I helped carry some of the wood back to the great bonfire in the middle of the village. Brother Ray would hold a one of his nightly sermons tonight, which meant we would stay up longer and would therefore need more firewood.

When I returned the fourth time, I was met with a surprising sight. Sandor was seated on a rock with a scissor in hand, trimming his beard or trying to, at least. "You need any help?" I asked and waited for his reply before I would gather more firewood. Sandor heaved a defeated sigh while lowering his hand. He nodded without looking at me.

I smiled at him when closing the distance between us. I took the scissor he had reached out but before I could begin, he had reached for something in his pocket. "I'd forgotten I found this, but I suppose you want it back?" Sandor revealed my hairpin, the one I had inherited from my aunt and thought had been lost.

"Where did you find this?" I asked when quickly taking it from him. Sandor chuckled when seeing the expression I made when I saw what it was he had in his hands. "Thank you. Was this why you wanted to find me earlier." I quickly added when pulled the front of my hair back, securing it on the back of my head with the hairpin. Sandor nodded as a reply while I did. It had been long since I had carried my hair this way, and the way Sandor looked at me afterwards, made me think he felt the same way.

I raised an eyebrow at the expression he sent me, but more because he suddenly decided to raise a hand and reach it toward my face. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, but when he realized what he was doing, he clenched his hand into a fist and lowered it again. I raised an eyebrow at him before he turned his head away, clearly recollecting himself.

"I found it where we made camp, I went back there once I could stand again." Sandor explained and looked at me again. He went back there, just as I had done eventually. I smiled to him before taking the scissor into my right hand and closed the distance between us completely. I stood in between his legs, and when I reached out for his beard, he straitened his back and extended his injured leg to accommodate me.

I began working on his beard, trimming it a little shorter but not too short because it had grown on me. It suited him more than the ragged one he had carried in King's landing. It took me a while to understand how to do it properly and not cut it too short. It was a difficult task, but once I got the hand of it, it became a lot easier. Sandor allowed me to work in silence, but when I at one point leant my chest against his, he jumped and recoiled, moving away so quickly it almost made me loose my footing.

I stopped what I had been doing to look at him and he seemed really bothered by me leaning against him. Sandor shifted further up onto the rock he was seated on, and I watched him tug at his clothes before raising an eyebrow at me. I had been staring at him again. I mumbled something like an apology before taking a step closer to him.