GoT One-Shots!

Someone Else (Sandor Clegane x fem!reader) AU

You stifled a sigh as your fiancé continued to ramble on and on about something you really didn't care about. You weren't really listening to anything he was saying since, across the room, something had caught your eye. Or rather, someone. He was wearing a tux, but looked so out of place in the room full of upper class people. He looked extremely uncomfortable and you couldn't tear your eyes away.

"Y/N, are you listening to me?" You tore your gaze away from the stranger and looked back at your fiancé. "No, I'm sorry. I'm rather tired and I suppose I dozed off a bit." He frowned and narrowed his eyes at you. "I swear, you are so scatterbrained it's a wonder I've put up with it for so long." It was your turn to frown. It only lasted a second before you smiled sweetly and rose from your seat.

"I think I'll go get some air. Excuse me," you said and left the table. You felt eyes on you as you quietly left the dining room, trying not to make a scene and embarrass yourself. You felt the tears pricking your eyelids and you tried to push them away. You never wanted to marry that man in the first place and now, here you were, on a vast ship, unable to get away from him. You stepped out onto the deck of the ship and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"You've embarrassed me, Y/N," your fiancé's voice came from behind you. You looked over your shoulder and asked, "How? I simply walked out to get some air. It has been a long journey already and I am tired." You should have known better than to argue with him, but you couldn't help but it this time. You felt his hand wrap around your upper arm and he spun you around. "Do not talk back to me!" he whispered harshly.

"Ya should let her go," a thick accent came from behind your fiancé. Your fiancé growled and turned to face where the voice came from. "And you should mind your own business, peasant." Your eyes widened in fear as you saw the strange man from the dining room slowly approach the two of you. Your fiancé, seeing that this man was much bigger than he, let go of your arm and straightened his jacket. "We will continue this later, Y/N," he whispered to you and walked away.

"Ya alright?" the man asked. He was standing there with one hand in the pocket of his tuxedo pants. You stuck your chin out in defiance and replied, "I am perfectly well, thank you." The man smirked as if he could read your every thought. "No yer not, but why should ya be? That man is an arse." Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to defend your fiancé. You couldn't find the words because, in truth, the man was right. The bruise forming on your arm was proof enough of that.

"I do not think my fiancé or my mother would appreciate you speaking of him in such a manner." He chuckled darkly and replied, "Makes no difference to me. I did just save yer life or yer face at the very least. Anyway, you looked rather bored in there." You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Whether I am bored or not is none of your concern, sir. Neither is my relationship with my fiancé!" He laughed again and pulled his hand from his pocket. He turned away from you and walked back where he came from. You were left there staring after him in surprise. No one had ever spoken to you that way before and honestly, you found it refreshing.

The next day, you were walking about the ship, soaking in as much sun as possible. You had been avoiding your fiancé since the incident the night before. "Good ta see ya still alive," the voice that had haunted your dreams caught your attention. You looked over your shoulder at him and chuckled sadly. "Indeed. I must ask your forgiveness, sir. I was terribly rude to you last night. I was wrong." He simply grunted in response making you laugh. A real laugh for the first time in months.

"That's an interesting expression," you said with a giggle before you straightened up again. "Sorry. I just realized we haven't been properly introduced. Y/F/N." You stuck out your hand which he took reluctantly. He barely moved his arm as he shook your hand and told you his name, "Sandor Clegane." You smiled as your eyes scanned his clothing. It certainly wasn't the clothing of an upper class passenger. Now you understood why he had been so uncomfortable when you saw him the night before. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Clegane." He scoffed. "Sure it is."