The Hounds Dragon ***Sandor Clegane***

Sansa's plead

"Sasa get up." I sternly announce, making her practically jump out of her sheets.

"It's barely dawn." She sadly grumbles and I roll my shoulders, trying to contain the words I was about to say.

I instead pick another not-so-rude string of words, "It was barely dawn six hours ago."

"How would you know." She snickers, her handmaiden wrapping a tie dress around her.

"I was awake three hours before dawn, I've been awake nine hours waiting for any sort of command. It was barely dawn six hours ago Stark."

"I bet you ran here when they told you to get me."

"No I took the long way, and I walked." I retort and she sits at her vanity, allowing her handmaidens to get to work on her hair.

I shake my head and look down, "Throne room in an hour my lady."

"Why do you take commands like a dog now? You're not the hound. You're known for being an... an ass... to anybody." she looks at me through her mirror trying not to ruin her work-in-progress hairstyle, "I mean you publically called the queen a bitch last week."

"Yes, and I took ten lashing that night. Didn't flinch." I coldly reply. Maybe she's finally getting sick of the games here. And the smell of shit.

I turn to leave, my hand on the hilt of my sword, "Don't leave me. Wait for me. She's almost through." She pleads and I nod, she had no idea I wouldn't have fully left anyway. I would've stayed in the hall right beside her door.

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Sansa walks in front of me and I walk behind her, my hand still hasn't left the hilt since her room. She looks afraid as she turns into the very large room. People, men, many men watch her, practically eye-raping her and I glare, making them look down.

"It is also the wish of His Grace that his loyal servant Janos Slynt, Commander of the City Watch...Ser Aron Be at once raised to the rank of Lord Gyles. And granted the ancient seat of Harrenhal, and that his sons and grandsons shall hold this honor after him until the end of time. In the place of the traitor Eddard Stark, it is the wish of his Grace that Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, be appointed Hand of the King. Lastly, in these times of treason and turmoil, it is the view of the Council that the life and safety of King Joffrey be of paramount importance." I could barely wrap my head around what Grand Maester Pycelle just said to everyone but I do know that Tyrion and Lannister is now the hand of the king.

Cersei grips her chair, "Ser Barristan Selmy."

"Your Grace, I am yours to command," Barristan says after walking out in front of the now-standing mother of the King and kneeling.

"Rise, Ser Barristan." She smirks and I pat Sansa's shoulder before walking to the side, discreetly making my way to stand beside Sandor. I don't watch Ser barristan but when I loudly pop my neck I see him standing once again.

"You may remove your helm." Cersei softly says and I'm sick and tired of having to be commanded or have permission to do simple things like have a sip of water. Or preferably ale. "you have served the Realm long and faithfully. Every man and woman in the Seven Kingdoms owes you thanks. But it is time to put aside your armor and your sword. it is time to rest and look back with pride on your many years of service."

"Your Grace, the Kingsguard is a sworn brotherhood. Our vows are taken for life. Only death relieves us of our sacred trust." Barristan announces, almost as a plea.

"Whose death, Ser Barristan? Yours or your King's?" Cersei riddles and I think bout it for a moment, then I remember he served on my father's Kingsguard. Only the death of the knight that vowed their sacred trust will relieve the now-dead knight of their vows. The king's death doesn't matter to their vows. Cersei really isn't the brightest woman I've met.