Game of Thrones: Short stories.

Old dog, new tricks - Part 3 - Sandor x Reader

Sandor couldn't help but smile to himself. To the big man, this was all just a formality, and he was more than confident in his own abilities. Sure, that despite how handy with her own swords the she wolf was, that with only a few swings of her toothpick, he would have vanquished (Y/n). And then they could get down to what they were both really there for. Sandor positive that he hadn't wanted anything as much as he currently wanted the woman that was circling him, like a lone hungry wolf circling its wounded prey.

Yet, despite his overriding confidence, there was a fire behind (Y/n)'s beautiful eyes. A fire that seemed to say that she wasn't going to make this easy for him. That she wasn't going to just surrender the prize. A prize that Sandor knew was of great value. The love of a daughter of the north. The chance to claim a wolf. A wolf that had claws. And he knew that that would make his inevitable victory, all the sweeter.

"Are you ready?" (Y/n) asked with a smile, as Sandor knocked his sword against hers.

"Aye, lass. But are you?" Sandor enquired. His eyes growing wide as (Y/n) made her first move. The tip of her sword moving like the wind past his face. The Hound looking down to see that some of his hair now lay on the floor of the practice ring.

"Now, you might take me seriously, Ser Clegane. My prize doesn't come easily. I wouldn't just give it to any man." (Y/n) chuckled, as Sandor looked at her in disbelief. A small smile pulling at his own lips as he realised that the she wolf might actually be more of a challenge than he had believed. The big man finding that thoughts of what else she could be capable of, where actually making him more determined to find out if fact was just as good as his imagination.

"But what if I don't best ya? What if tha victory is yours? What prize do ya want?" Sandor enquired. A wicked sparkle coming to (Y/n)'s eyes as she readied herself for the Hounds onslaught.

"Well, let me put it this way. No matter which one of us is the victor. I doubt that either of us will be disappointed." (Y/n) replied. Moving quickly as Sandor suddenly thrust his sword out. The sounds of metal meeting metal filling the practice ring as the Hound and the she wolf began their deadly dance.

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Sandor was amazed at how well the eldest Stark daughter was holding up against his onslaught of powerful blows. Shocked at how easily she was able to dance around his every thrust and slice. Whoever had taught her to fight, had taught her well. She was indeed a gifted swordswoman and was certainly not afraid to face him. The she wolf having more courage than many a man that he had met. (Y/n) had given as good as she got. And Sandor was sure that her thin blade had cut into his flesh more than once. But the Hound was more concerned with the prize than any cuts that might have been inflicted. Scars healed, but the prize of a she wolf was something that could last forever, if handed in the right way.

"Ya ready ta surrender yet, lass?" Sandor asked as he looked at (Y/n). The big man sure that he was panting as heavily, as she was.

"Wolves never surrender. If you want the prize, then you will have to come get it." (Y/n) replied, gasping for air as she rose to her full height and steadied herself. Grasping her sword firmly in both her hands and correcting her stance as she waited for another barrage of blows.

She had to admit that she had never fought against anyone like Sandor before. Jory was excellent with a sword, as where all her father's men. But the Hound was something different. She had always suspected that her father's Captain of the guard had gone easier on her. Maybe under the orders of her father, or just because he didn't want to hurt her. But now she knew that he had. The power and force of Sandor's strikes bringing it home that despite how technically skilled she was with a blade; it was no substitute for real world experience. Experience that (Y/n) knew that Sandor had more than his fair share of. And even though her smaller, lighter frame made her nimbler than the man that she faced. That she had been able, up until now, to avoid, or at least defend herself just enough to avoid harm. Fatigue was setting in, and as much as she had no intention of surrendering. She had to accept that despite really wanting to win. The Hound was more than capable of handling a wolf.

Suddenly, (Y/n) found herself on the floor of the practice ring. She had no idea how she had got down there. Cursing at her own feet, or whatever else had made her fall as she shifted backwards as quickly as she could, so that she could get to her feet and continue the fight. But as the great shadow of the Hound loomed over her, she knew all she could do was raise her sword, close her eyes. And wait for the victory blow.

"Hey! Get ya hands off me." (Y/n) heard Sandor call out. Her eyes flying open as she saw her father's men pin Sandor to the ground. The sword that he had been holding, flying to the other side of the practice ring as Jory pressed his own blade to the big man's throat. The Stark bannermen struggling to keep the Hound from his feet.

"STOP!" (Y/n) shouted, as she sprung to her feet. Jory and the other men looking at her as she marched over to them.

"Let go of him. That is an order." (Y/n) growled, as she glared at the Captain.

"But.........milady. He was about to strike you." Jory tried to reason. Not sure what to do as (Y/n) pushed away the bannermen and tried to help Sandor to his feet. The Hound fighting back to urge to rip each one of the Stark's men's head off.

"We were practicing, Jory. That's all. Ser Clegane was helping me. I was attempting to learn something new. To become more experienced. To know what it is to come up against a serious opponent. Sandor had no intention of hurting me. He had won our fight fair and square. And to the victor, goes the prize" (Y/n) hissed, despite knowing that Jory was only doing his job by watching over her. That he only had her safety and best interests at heart. As did all of the others. The she wolf more annoyed that she and Sandor had not been left alone long enough for the big man to actually claim said prize.

"Ser Clegane. I must apologise for our men. But please understand that they were only doing as my father had ordered. Secondly, I would like to thank you for your help. I have never fought anyone, or anything like you before. And I can only hope that you will be gracious enough to teach me much, much more during my time here in Kings Landing. Maybe, we will in fact be able to meet again very soon, now that Jory and the others know that you are not going to hurt me." (Y/n) said as she looked up at the big man whose blood was still boiling. But as he finally turned his attentions to her, Sandor knew that despite this unwanted intrusion, the magnificent she wolf had no intention of being denied what she wanted.

"Until later then." (Y/n) reassured. Sandor trying to stop himself from smiling as (Y/n) turned and made her way out of the practice ring with her father's men in tow. The big man hoping that later would come soon.