Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book four

New life -Sandor x Reader

Sandor had first met the bastards of Winterfell, when he had had to travel with the royal entourage up to the north. The boy had held no interest for him, just like the others; but his twin sister.....there was something about her. She standing out from the rest of Ned Stark's family, like blood in the snow. The long thick streak of pale white hair that sprouted from her tight temple, cutting through the rest of her dark hair, saw to that. But that was not all; it was the fact that her beauty made her pretty sister, the one that couldn't keep her eyes from Joffrey, appear pale in comparison. Made all other women, appear wanting. It was the way that she had made her presence felt, by just standing there; by just being. Her brother, quiet, shy; but she....she was none of that. Her head raised high, not seeming to give a damn about her last name.

It was clear that Lady Catelyn disliked her a great deal; one of the constant reminders of her husband's infidelity. But she wasn't the only one to bristle with disdain for the girl; for as soon as Robert Baratheon had seen her, he had taken her face between his hands and looked at her as if he had seen a ghost; his fingers trembling while he brushed them across her cheek. The king telling her, telling Ned, that she was the spitting image, of her aunt, Lyanna. And as soon as that golden cock, Jaime Lannister, had smiled and winked at her, Sandor had seen the shift in the queen. But it was more than obvious that the girl called (Y/n), didn't care at all; not about the thoughts of her father's wife, or of the queen. The beauteous bastard never shying away when either woman would glare. Even when she had been forced to join her father and sisters in Kings Landing, (Y/n) had not given a fig for the snide comments of the lioness. The girl always holding her head up high, with a dignity that any well born lady should aspire to. Nor could it be said that she shied away from him. The rest of Westeros may fear the younger Clegane; they may be terrified of the man called the Hound. But the bastard she wolf, (Y/n) Snow; the young woman that held a fire in her eyes and the cold of the north in her veins, cared nothing for his reputation. She stood up to him, let him bark, growl and huff; and after a while, he had to admit that he had come to like it. He had come to crave her presence. The way that her attention made him feel.....wanted. The way that she would look at him, was something he never thought to see in the eyes of a woman. Sandor not caring that she was the bastard daughter of the Lord Paramount of the North; just that she was the beautiful girl that had confessed that she loved him, and he had admitted he loved in return. The Hound having hoped to be able to ask her father for her hand. But things in his life, had always had a habit of turning to shit. The death of Robert Baratheon; the beheading of Ned Stark, setting into motion a series of events that would change not only both their lives, but also the future of Westeros. (Y/n) just like Arya, able to escape the capital; able to evade the Lannister forces. Sandor not seeing the girl he loved again, until he and the Brotherhood Without Banners had marched north to the Wall. Sandor finding her standing by her brother's side. The two bastards of Winterfell, together again. It clear that whatever she had been through since he had seen her last, had changed her; made her fiercer, stronger. Even more determined. And that was why neither Jon nor he had been able to dissuade her from venturing with them beyond the Wall. She proving out there, that just like her brother, she could wield a sword better than many a man that Sandor had come across. He knowing better than to ask her how she had become capable of such things. How she had become as hardened as her brother. He just grateful for it. Grateful that if anything happened to him, he knew that she could survive. Yet still, he had not let her leave his side at the Battle of Winterfell. (Y/n) with him every step of the way, as he had fought with Beric Dondarrion's flaming sword. She refusing to leave his side, as he had fought against his brother. Sandor eventually sending Gregor, plummeting to a fiery death. The demise of his undead brother finally ending their lifelong rivalry. Sandor now free. Free of his brother. Free of the Lannisters. Free of his old life. The end of the Battle for Kings Landing, giving him a chance to ask the woman that he now knew to really be Visenya Targaryen, daughter of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. The twin heir to the now melted Iron Throne, to be his wife. The blood, dirt and ash covered woman. The younger woman that had caught his eye all those years ago in the courtyard of Winterfell, throwing herself into his ams.

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She had chosen exile. Not that Sandor had expected her to do anything other than follow her brother. And where the now (Y/n) Clegane went, Sandor would follow. The pair having made a life for themselves in the cold of the north, amongst the Freefolk. Neither needing some great castle, or a multitude of servants at their beck and call. Life there was real, honest. And as long as (Y/n) was by his side, Sandor knew that nothing else mattered. The big man coming to stand behind her; wrapping his arms around her waist, as she watched a group of children play.

"Ours will be doing that, before you know it........" She finally said. Slowly moving one of his hands down to rest over her belly. It taking a moment for Sandor to realise what she had said, what she had done. He quickly turning her around, to face him.

"Ours........?"

"Aye......Hilna told me earlier. You're going to be a father, Sandor......" (Y/n) letting out a laugh, as she found herself taken up into his arms and carried back in the direction of their little home. Tomorrow, everyone would know that there would soon be a new Clegane coming to the world. But for now, Sandor just wanted to be with his wife, so that he could thank her for the new life that she had given him.