Game of Thrones: The Storm

S1E7 - You Win or You Die

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WARNING: This chapter contains smut. Read at your own risk.

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After all three of you arrived back in the Red Keep, Joffrey was sent off to bed, but a member of the Kings Guard was taking Sandor's place for nightshift. Leaving the both of you alone.

"Have a drink with me," you offered as you both walked away from the corridor where the princes' and princess's rooms were.

"I get a night for myself, and you think I want to spend it being around you?" He asked gruffly.

"Yes, I think you do," you answered, a sly smile lifting the corners of your lips as you glanced over at him. He stopped walking and turned to face you completely. "It's Dornish, from the Martell's private collection. It'll go to waste on me, I don't drink all that often."

"Are you sure you're Robert Baratheon's bastard then?" He asked with a smirk.

Your smile fell a bit as you looked down at his chest before opening your mouth to speak, but no words came out. You flexed your hand as you looked back up at his face.

"So that's a, yes?"

When you didn't get an answer, your smile appeared again as you continued to walk down the hall.

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When you both made it to your chambers, you opened the barrel and filled two glasses. While you filled the cups, he sat down in one of your chairs next to the window.

You handed him his glass before sitting down in the chair on the opposite side of the table. He slowly lifted the glass to his lips as he looked down at it, all while you watched. When he glanced up at you and seen that you were watching, he lowered the glass without taking a drink.

"Afraid I poisoned it?" You asked, trying not to snicker at his hesitation. With that, he immediately brought the cup back up to his lips and took a drink.

After he drank the whole glass in one go and set the glass on the table, you slowly took your first sip.

"Why did you want me to come here? We aren't friends."

"We could be friends," you tilted your head to the side while taking another drink.

"You're the spawn of a Lord. When Lord's want to make friends, it's for their own gain. I wasn't born yesterday, Storm," his tone was tense as he spoke, as if you had offended him.

"I have nothing to gain from befriending you... Clegane." Your smile faltered as you said his last name before drinking the rest of the wine in your glass.

"Surely there is a reason, unless you're just looking for someone to fuck... but I don't suppose the first bastard daughter of the King has ever been properly broken in yet, and I don't suppose I would be your first pick."

Your eyelids lowered a bit as he spoke, your small smirk never leaving your face.

"What would you know about me? Other than the things I've told you."

"I've heard Varys whispering your accomplishments to your father for years, I doubted those whispers then, and I doubted them even more when you returned three months ago. I couldn't imagine the bastard of the drunk Robert Baratheon to be more than a pretty face and lean body. I can't imagine the good masters of Astapor were too happy to see you leave." You slowly stood to your feet as he spoke, making your way back over to the barrel of wine to refill your glass. You could practically feel his eyes watching your body as you walked.

"They weren't, but they had to watch me leave knowing they would never see me again nevertheless... Knowing they would never get a chance to have me the way they wanted those two years I was under their watch," you explained, taking your time pouring your wine before turning back to face him.