Beauty and a Beast | Sandor 'The Hound' Clegane

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Lorinna's excitement had waned with the sun, leaving her sprawled face down over her bed, gripping the fur blankets as tears spilled from her eyes. How could she be so stupid? She still felt that ache between her legs. Had she honestly believed he could see beauty in her? Her stomach rumbled loudly, reminding her of the hunger gnawing at her insides. At least this hunger was easy to fill than that she had for Clegane's touch. With a frustrated sigh, she flipped onto her back and ran her fingers through her loose hair, the strands draping themselves over her shoulders. Determined to shake off the weight of her disappointment, she pushed herself up and crossed to her wardrobe. As she rifled through her clothes, her fingers brushed against a bold red dress -the colour of fire, vibrant and alluring. The low scoop neck and drop waist accentuated her figure, the fabric silky against her skin. Slipping into the dress, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She adjusted the neckline, letting it fall just enough to tease but not reveal too much. A smirk crept onto her lips as she admired the way it accentuated her body. After fixing her hair into loose waves that framed her face, she took a deep breath, allowing the remnants of her earlier emotions to wash away. She felt the heat of determination rise within her, and with a final glance in the mirror, she strode toward the door, ready to face whatever the evening would bring -whether it was a feast or a chance to confront Him again.

Lorinna took a deep breath as she stepped into the hall, the vibrant red of her dress swirling around her like flames. The low murmur of conversation and the clinking of goblets filled the air, but she felt a strange stillness in her heart as she scanned the room for him. There he was, across the hall, standing near the long table where the feast was laid out. Sandor Clegane's broad frame loomed among the two despicable knights of the Kingsguard behind her scowling brother, but he didn't look her way. His focus was on the floor, the heavy brow furrowed as if he were lost in thought. The sight stung more than she expected. She had hoped for a reaction, a flicker of acknowledgment in his dark eyes, but he remained impassive. With a rush of determination, she moved deeper into the hall, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. "Princess Lorinna!" A voice called, pulling her attention. Tyrion was gesturing from a nearby table, his expression warm and inviting. "Come join us!"
"It's taken you long enough sister, we've begun without you," Joffrey glared at her, "I was just wondering if you'd fallen out of a tower like the little Stark boy, wasn't I dog."
The man standing behind the boy looked up from the spot for a second only to reply with a small grunt of approval. He barely looked at Lori. She forced a smile, glancing back at Sandor. Still nothing. It was as if she were invisible to him, and that thought fuelled her resolve. She made her way toward Tyrion, trying to keep her composure as she navigated through the crowd.But as she sat down and joined the conversation, her gaze kept drifting back to Sandor. He remained behind her twin, fixed on that one spot on the floor each time she looked up. The laughter and chatter around her faded as she felt the weight of his absence, longing for the connection they'd shared just hours earlier."Lori, are you listening?" Tyrion's voice broke through her thoughts, and she turned her head, forcing her focus back to him."Of course," she replied, though her mind was still tethered to the man who refused to look her way.

Sandor despised himself for his actions but knew the queen would despise him much more if they came to light. He didn't want to, but he kept looking. She must have felt his stare because each time he laid his eyes on her golden hair, or her marked face or her round breasts, her gaze drifted toward him. He watched her sip her wine, unsure whether or not to hope she'd drink a little less tonight than she had their first feast. Cersei looked to her daughter, "You look ravishing my darling, it's too bad that you're stuck up here in the dreary old North."
The princess's face was as readable as books on a page were to her. She forced a thankful smile, "I get my looks from you, mother. I've become at peace with your decision, actually, I agree with it. Court is far too proper a place for me, and the men here are much nicer." Clegane felt her eyes burning through his armour as she spoke her last sentence.
But just as he was about to look away, Joffrey's voice cut through the air like a knife, filled with disdain. "You think you can just wander off and abandon your duties, princess?" He leaned back in his chair, arrogance radiating from him. "You'll return to King's Landing whether you like it or not."
Lori's face flushed with indignation, her composure slipping as she shot back, "I will not. I am happy here, and I should be with Bran when he awakes from his sleep."
"If he wakes." Joffrey's words were a dagger in the hearts of all northerners, and his sister.
"My son," Cersei interjected smoothly, her voice cold. "We have no way of knowing that yet." The unnecessary emphasis on yet carried a cruel note of hope, twisting the knife further. Lori's face twisted in pain, and before anyone could stop her, she turned on her heel and ran from the hall, her red dress flowing behind her like a trail of fire. Cersei barely blinked at her daughter's departure. She turned to Sandor, her gaze hard and commanding. "Go after her."
Sandor hesitated, the reluctance clear in his eyes. He didn't want to go after the girl—not after everything—but he couldn't deny a queen's order. Still, he pushed back, his gravelly voice low. "Are you making Ser Meryn her personal guard now?"
Cersei's lips curled slightly, amusement flickering in her cold green eyes. "He will be," she said, almost lazily, "but he's too drunk to stand, let alone chase after her."
Sandor clenched his jaw, suppressing his frustration. He knew Ser Meryn was a worthless knight with perverse tendencies, but it didn't make this any easier. With a heavy sigh, he nodded. "As you command, Your Grace." As Sandor rose to follow Lori, the weight of what had just happened bore down on him. He didn't want to be a part of this, to be the hound chasing after his prey at the queen's whim. But he was bound, and he had no choice.He made his way out of the hall, his heavy boots echoing through the stone corridors.