Seven Dreams One Kingdom

37-Jon

When Jon walked into the solar, he saw Sansa sat with the Hound. For some reason, and he couldn't fathom why, they had a comfortable stillness between them, a flare of jealousy burned up inside him. He walked straight over to Sansa and bent down, kissing her on the lips possessively before standing up and looking at the Hound, making sure the man knew Sansa was his.

"Hound, I'd like you to meet my husband, King Aegon Targaryen, although most people know him as Jon Snow." Sansa introduced them.

"How the fuck did Robert not notice you?" Sandor looked surprised, clearly noticing he had a resemblance to his real father.

"Probably because he never bothered to look." he shrugged, holding his hand out. "We were never introduced when you visited us at Winterfell with King Robert."

"I wonder why." Sandor looked at him carefully. "How the fuck could you beat Brienne of fucking Tarth and the Blackfish?"

"And a whitewalker, and a Thenn." Sansa added.

"What's a fucking whitew..." Sandor stopped, his eyes widening. "You've fought them." it wasn't a question.

"Aye. I killed one, but we lost. Thousands of Freefolk were slaughtered and added to his army." Jon nodded.

"Is that why they killed you?" Sandor asked. "For not saving enough men?"

Jon shook his head. "The Night's Watch didn't want me to save any of them. So they murdered me." deciding it was wise for the Hound to know what had happened to him, he pulled his tunic up, revealing the fatal stab wounds on his bare chest.

"The red god brought you back too?" Sandor asked.

Sansa looked up to Jon. "Thoros has brought Beric back, what is it? Six or seven times?" she turned back to Sandor.

"I've no idea. Too fucking many if you ask me." he shook his head. "Beric I don't get. But you..." he stopped and suddenly the Hound's eyes drifted to the flames and then back to Jon and Sansa. Something in his face and body language changed, Jon knew he was about to go on the attack. Quickly, Jon unsheathed Dark Sister and pointed it at his throat before Clegane had even unsheathed his own blade.

"What's going on?" Sansa stood between them.

"This cunt is going to try to kill you with that fucking sword." the Hound snarled.

"How do you know?" Sansa asked.

"I saw it in the flames." Sandor admitted, looking almost as uncomfortable as both Jon felt. From the expression on the face of the Hound, he hoped he hadn't witnessed more than Jon stabbing Sansa in the heart with the sword.

Jon lowered the blade slightly. "Touch the flat of the blade." Jon told him. "Although I'd only use the tip of your finger if I were you." he warned as Sandor looked at Sansa, who nodded.

The blade was always hot and Jon knew it, so when Sandor touched the blade and immediately withdrew his finger, he knew the man had felt the heat of the sword. "It happened on our wedding night." Sansa explained. "I was dying. Dark Sister saved me." she added.

"Dark Sister?" Sandor asked, looking at the sword in shock, so Jon showed him the sword properly by lying it across his hands in front of the tall man. Despite feeling the heat, it didn't hurt Jon to touch the blade. The Hound looked up at Jon. "You're him aren't you? The one the red god followers go on about." Jon frowned at him and then it dawned on him what Clegane was talking about.

"Melisandre mentioned the Prince that was Promised." Jon nodded.

"Aye, something like that." Sandor said. "I think you need to talk to Thoros of Myr. That's if he's not passed out. He's usually pissed on rum."