~A Game of Hounds and Foxes~ (GOT Fanfiction)

~TWO~

~Sandor "the hound" Clegane~

"I am no sir," I growl "Just a hound, girl."

 "Well then, I suppose we shall speak as friends then." She laughs prettily "I will just have to call you Sandor."

Looking back at her warm smile and sweet face I can't help but shift from her. Even her standing so close makes me feel an uneasy sensation. The only time someone stands this close to me willingly is because they have a dagger ready to stick in my back. 

"A hound doesn't have friends." I snarl back at her "Only masters."

She hums in a mocking tone leaning against the stone railing "Hmm, well then, I suppose you should consider yourself lucky. Not only do you now have your first friend, but she is also the future lady of House Haygar."

It is then I feel the warmth from her small hand as she clasps my arm. There is no hesitation, malice, or recoil in her touch. Just as I feel her against my arm I reach for her only waking to the dark room.

As I slowly sit up in bed I look out the window to my chambers. The moon shines over the vast sea as if peering in my window to catch a glimpse of my dreams. Not that this one, in particular, had been anything different from the ones before or sense. 

---

The throne room stands eerily quiet. So quiet I feel as if I closed my eyes for a second that I would find myself in the stretch of woods between my home and Silverhill. I can smell the very aroma of the grass and hear the scuffling of forest animals in the brush as I would crouch spotting a doe not far ahead. Unknowingly right in the path of my drawn arrow. However, before I can lose the arrow in my mind, I hear the drunkard voice call "Clegane!"

"What you fat drunken bastard?"

"Yes, your majesty?" I reply dully opening my eyes back to the dark throne room and knelt before the king, Robert Baratheon, who had summoned me. To his left sits his curt wrench of a wife, Cersi Lannister, with her cunt of a son Joffrey impatiently standing at her side. To the far right stands Cerci's brother, Jamie, newcomer Ned Stark of Winterfell as well as the councilmen of the King. Little Finger among them cunningly smiling.

"Come now Clegane on your feet. No need for such formalities on this day." The King says almost heartily.

I stand sighing at his tone knowing that some shit full problem is about to come hurling my way in all its reeking glory. Right, where I stand, I know it's not something I can easily bloody kill, or else it wouldn't be a problem in the first place.

As I look at the King, he has a form of an awry smirk on his mouth barely tucked in the mess of his beard stained with red wine. He leans back into the iron throne "Hound, you have been one of my most fierce and loyal Kings guard for some years now. Our family has greatly respected and relied on you and your brother, Sir Gregor."

I wince at my brother's name but hide it from the royal family before me and the councilmen to my far right "Aye, many thanks, your majesty." I reply sounding more insincere than ever. Even I can't fake niceties if it means saving my bloody neck.

He nods to me "Yes, but, it seems that certain circumstances have arisen and small opportune moments have been given to us. To the royal household and your own."