Beauty and the Hound - Sandor Clegane

9 - The King, the Lovers & The Attack

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They had both given up in love, until they met each other
-Unknown

She stirred awake when she realized the sun brightly shone his chambers. Worrisome and fear invaded her thoughts. The handmaidens would have entered her chambers and found her missing.

   She was sprawled on top of Sandor with his arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her close to him.  Her legs draped directly above his hips and his length was at her opening.  Her core started to ache with need and she blushed deeply. She would do anything to make love with him again but she had to leave her lover. It was too great of a risk.

     So she tried to move, trying to free herself from Sandor's grip but to no avail. She sighed, almost giving up. She had an idea. It was a huge risk but she didn't have much time so she just chose to do it.  She kissed his neck and she felt him smile, his grip on her loosened and she pushed his arm away but still continued pecking him with light kisses.

   She saw a pool of blood on the bed and some of it smeared on his thighs and hips. She gasped, panicking for a short while, wondering where the blood came from.

   Meela then realized it was from her. He had taken her maidenhead. She knew it was bound to happen. She smiled at this man, sound asleep looking so peaceful. The worst killer of Westeros was here next to her, looking like a normal man. She knew none of those rumors were true.

He wasn't a raper. He wasn't rough. He was loving and gentle with her.  And he held her close with him the entire night. His bed barely had space for him, let alone for her. She was cramped up,pushed to the corner. But she loved it. She loved being cramped this way. Against him. His sweat and breath fanning at her face. Bodies pressed together with Sandor's firm grip on her waist.

   But all those thoughts were gone the moment she remembered her maidens.

    She didn't have the heart to wake him up. So she quietly tiptoed her way to her nightdress, slipping into it and wore her cloak. Meela was extremely sore, almost squealing in pain when she walked to the door but her squeals were muffled. She couldn't risk waking him up.

       She tried opening the door without sound but it squeaked a little. Panicking, she stormed off his chambers before Sandor even stirred awake.

   She paced to her chambers. Luckily the Gold Cloaks weren't guarding the hallways that morning. It must have been an early morning for them. Her pain on the other hand was killing her. Her thigh muscles were sore. Her arms were sore. Her body was sore. She felt like she was being pierced repeatedly in her womb while she ran. But she ignored it as best as she could, knowing she would only be in peace once she is inside her chambers, safe and not found.

   She let out a deep breath when she entered and found nobody there yet. The handmaidens must be on their way. But someone else was in her chambers. Someoene familiar.

   He was sitting on the chair, with a stick on the table. It looked like a crutch.

   Lord Eddard Stark turned to face her and she gasped. Meela tried her best to make sure shock wasn't plastered on her face.

'You're lucky the maidens didn't find you,' he stood up to face her.
      'I'm not sure why you're here so early uncle.'
'Maybe because my niece is doing something that can get her killed if she is caught,'

    She let out a breathless chuckle, looking at him with disbelief.

'What are you talking about uncle? It's early morning uncle, I...'
    'The moment the King finds out about this, Sandor's head will be on a spike do you know that?'