Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book four

Love waits - Part 7 - Sandor x Reader

Sandor huffed, then he drank, and then huffed again. After leaving (Y/n), he had made his way back to the throne room, muttering all the way about her being a stubborn woman. How she could Knight of Flowers if she damn well wanted, he didn't care. That he didn't care if she chose to marry every single man in the Keep; Hells, in whole of Kings Landing if she wanted, as long as she stayed out of his way for the rest of her time in the capital. I fact, he wished she would just run off and leave him like she had when they were little. Run off and leave him to deal with his father and brother, all by himself. And now that he had been dismissed for the evening; Robert in his chambers, his cup filled to the brim with the best wine, while he got his cock sucked by some whore or another; Sandor found that he was still thinking about what (Y/n) had said to him that morning. Thinking about her saying that he hadn't cared about her in years; his empty cup being thrown at the wall and shattering into pieces, as he thought about confronting her. As he thought about going to her room and telling her that she knew nothing. Nothing of his thoughts, nothing of the feelings that no one in the Seven Kingdoms would believe he could have. That if she was going to marry anyone........well, it should be him.......should be him .......The big man slumping back in his seat, reaching for the wine bottle on the simple table next to him, and taking a gulp.

She was the only woman that he had ever thought about in that way; the only female he had ever had such feelings for. And even though they had not seen one another in years, she had always been in his heart, no matter how much he tried to deny it. And now that she was in the Keep, now that he had seen that she was still as beautiful, still as feisty and spirited as she had been when they were both young; he was finding that his thoughts were going to all the things that could have been, if he had left with her, that day.

Marriage for his sons, had never been high on Connas Clegane's list of priorities.

"Why waste your time with a wife, when you could call on a whore, whenever the desire takes you............" The old man would say to he and Gregor.

"Wives are more trouble than they are worth. A whore never says that she is not in the mood; or complains about a long day of having to deal with the children." Sandor recalling that he had made the mistake of asking his father why, if all that was true, had he made up his mind that Gregor was to marry (Y/n) as soon as she had had her first blood. Connas leaning forward and smirking slightly, grabbing harshly onto Sandor's hair and bringing him to him, before informing his younger son that the reason for that, was that in this case, that particular little whore, had titles, land and gold, that would pass to her husband once they were wed. But once they had, it did not mean that they would have to be wed, forever. Sandor wishing that he could slap the smile right off his father's face. Wishing that he could strike down not only his father, but also his brother, who had laughed at what the old man had said. He wanting to hold his sword to his father's throat and tell him that (Y/n) was no whore. That she was a lady; that she was his friend, and he loved her. That when they were older, he wanted to take her as far away from the dark castle as possible and marry her; have children with her. And he would not raise his children to be monsters. Yet he hadn't. Nor had he been able to stop Gregor from terrifying the little girl that he cared so much about. Yet now he could protect her. Now he could.........Sandor suddenly getting to his feet; the door to his room being thrown open, before he made his way out into the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep.

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(Y/n) pulled her thin nightgown over her head, then sat in front of the mirror, undoing the braid, before carefully pulling her brush through it. Why was it she could not get that damn man out of her mind. Why was it that Sandor Clegane still had a hold of her heart? Surly it had been nothing more than a childish infatuation. He had been someone to cling to, when his brother and father had done nothing but scare her; so, she was bound to think that she had feelings for him. But it wasn't just that, no. She had loved Sandor before she knew what love even was. She had imagined them being together, being their own little family and looking after one another, a world away from Clegane Castle. And seeing him again, now, had just brought all those thoughts and hopes back to the fore. (Y/n) not caring if it was foolish; not caring if he would laugh in her face. The lady putting down her brush and reaching for her night coat, before heading to the door of her rooms. Throwing open the door, ready to make her way into the Keep in the hopes of finding the younger Clegane; only to find herself walking into something solid, before two large arms wrapped themselves around her form, and lips crashed into hers.