From the Ashes (ASOIAF) (Sandor Clegane x OC)

Chapter 11: Sandor

Sandor was tired. No, tired didn't fucking cover it. He was completely exhausted. Every muscle and bone in his body ached. His knee was screaming at him with every step. Damned Gendry. He hadn't been entirely sure how he would perform in the tourney. He was much slower and older than he'd been the last time he competed, but he was pleasantly surprised to find out that his body remembered what to do, and he fell back into it as if it were an old friend. It felt so good to fight again. The clash of shields and blades. The pumping of his heart as he slashed through the competition. He realized he hadn't felt that alive in years. Then it was over, and the complications came creeping back in. He remembered why he'd spent so long trying to be a person others stayed away from. After the tourney there was an endless crowd of people wanting to shake his hand, pat his shoulder, and give him praise. Shout after shout of, "Well ridden Lord Commander!" And "Three cheers for the Hound!" Followed him down every road he turned onto. Bronn and Gendry found him a few hours after the tourney had ended. It was obvious they had been endulging themselves for sometime already.

"Clegane! You ugly fuck!" Bronn called loudly with a smile.

Sandor had never like Bronn. He was slimey, too charming. He was the kind of man that would say anything he needed to get what he wanted. Nothing about him was real, it was all just a show. Sandor couldn't stand pretenders.

"I have decided, out of the goodness of my heart!" Bronn continued.

"More like the bottom of your wine glass." Muttered Gendry with a smirk.

"Hush you!" Said Bronn pointing aggressively at him, "or you don't get to participate! Anyway as I said I have decided to fund a proper reward for you the champions of this tourney. So choose your establishment of choice, and make sure to pick the prettiest girl. Money is no object!"

Sandor looked at him thoroughly non plussed. Bronn couldn't possibly think he would take him up on an offer like that.

"Wow. Generous of you." He said flatly, and he made a point of turning the opposite direction of the street of silk, and walking away.

"See, this is why no one likes you!" Bronn called after him, "I present you with this most gracious invitation of truce and you throw it back in my face!"

"Yep." Sandor said, without turning around.

He couldn't believe that Bronn honestly thought he would go whoring with him as if they were friends. Bronn may be the type to pretend but he wasn't. Gods his knee was killing him. He was walking uphill now, putting more pressure on it. He didn't want to admit it even to himself, but his dark mood had to do with more than Bronn's ridiculous invitation. He hadn't seen Tess anywhere at the tourney. He felt like a stupid boy, pouting that a woman didn't come to watch him ride. He'd tried not to look for her, why should it matter honestly if she was there or not? Yes granted, she was the one who convinced him to do it, but it wasn't as if she was his sole reason for being there. None the less it did bother him. Why would she go to all that trouble to convince him to compete in the damned thing, and not even watch?

He'd reached the gate of the inn, and it was already busy. He must have been moving even slower than he realized because Yara Greyjoy and Tyrion had beaten him here and were already seated at a table. He moved towards them, wondering where Brienne was. If Tyrion was here she had to be around somewhere. He didn't see Tess either. Something was definitely off.

"Lord Commander." Said Yara Greyjoy inclining her head in his direction, "how's your leg?"

"Hurts like hell. But I'll live." He said, sitting down heavily. "How're your ribs?"

"About the same." She said with a smile, "Fucking Baratheon's eh?"

"Fucking Baratheon's" he agreed returning her smile.