Sandor has arrived at King's Landing and has found his brother. The confrontation between them is fierce. The two hate each other without limit and know that it is killing or dying ... or dying and dying.
Gregor dug his fingers into his eyes, lifting him off the ground. Sandor desperately, feeling that his head was about to explode, took the dagger from his neck and embedded it in one of the eyes.
- Die! -shouted him.
His brother released him and Sandor fell to the floor of the tower. Gregor was walking backwards. Without reflecting any feeling, he grabbed the dagger with his hands and tried to pull it out. Sandor had no doubt that his brother was immortal. Nobody was able to survive something like that ... but, he had gone there to fulfill the revenge that had given meaning to his life ... and he knew that he was going to die in the attempt.
He got up and yelled with all his might as he rushed at his brother ... but at that moment, the floor of the tower gave way and The Mountain disappeared from his sight.
Sandor dropped to the ground, to avoid being dragged by the collapse, being a few centimeters from the abyss. He looked down, and saw how hell swallowed Gregor ...
- It's what you deserve fucking bastard! .- He yelled and then a cry of anger escaped his throat.
He closed his eyes and lay down on the stone floor with his arms crossed.
For the place where the tower's roof was at the time, he could see the blue sky blurred by a layer of dense smoke black that ascended from the city.
He was sure that at any moment what was left of the tower would give way and he would also fall to the flames ...He felt ready for it, he would die anyway. The wounds that his brother had inflicted on him in the fight were sure that they were mortal ... but the tower endured ... and he did not die.
When he stopped hearing the roars of the dragon in the distance, he opened his eyes. He could barely see by one of them. He tried to sit up but all the muscles and bones of his body shouted at once. He dropped again and a dense fog came over his mind.
In the unconsciousness that caused the pain, he dreamed. He dreamed of a child playing by the side of a fireplace, who smiled innocently while imagining a new adventure after another ... and dreamed that his older brother came to him and joined his games ... He dreamed of the life of that child who grew up and became a young man who arrived at King's Landing to be knighted, before the proud look of his brother and his parents ... and then dreamed of a red haired girlfriend coming towards him ... and when he was about to kiss her ... he woke up.
He took a breath with all his strength and began to cough, noticing how his chest burned. All that was a disgusting lie ... nothing had happened like that ... but even being what it was, Sansa had kissed him just before leaving Winterfell ... he still felt her lips on his.
And not only his thought was to Sansa ... The image of Arya coming out of the Red Keep made her wonder if she would have been able to save herself ...
The fucking Mother of Dragons had burned the Red Keep and had not shown any mercy ... Who was going to confront her now? ... Thinking about that made her fear for what might happen to Sansa.
At that moment, a deep noise was heard from inside the tower. It was going to fall!
He overcame the pain, turned around and began to crawl to the inner wall of the tower, which miraculously remained standing. He got up holding onto the blocks of stones that were beginning to loosen, and realized he could barely walk.
Despite this, stuck to the wall and barely visible because of the ashes, smoke and blood that fell on his face, began to descend the stairs.
Each step was a suffering. He knew with certainty that something had broken in his chest because, every time he breathed, a sharp pain caused that this elementary fact to turn into a martyrdom.
By the time he reached the arcaded room where he had said goodbye to Arya, he was sure that sooner or later he would faint, but he kept walking despite the pain that pierced his head and broke his chest, and he came outside.
He began to walk through the blanket of ashes that covered the ground, leaving in his wake, the tracks of his boots and the drops of blood that fell from his body. He left the road that led to Red Keep, and reached a street.
Sandor Clegane had witnessed and participated in many atrocities and believed that nothing could overwhelm him ... but he was wrong.
The smell of burned flesh hit him hard. Around him the bodies of the inhabitants of the city huddled together ... all burned, covered with ash ... He looked around without believing it. Daenerys had destroyed everything. The whole city.
He looked around the street and his eyes stopped at a girl ... she would have practically the same years as Arya, when he started his journey with her. She was totally burned, but he could see the outline of her small hands clutching a blackened toy.
He fell on his knees, prisoner of strong tremors. A cold sweat ran from top to bottom as he dropped to the floor.
His eyes closed little by little, but he still had time to see, to death, that in the form of a white horse, he came to look for him.
To be continue...
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Wounds (Sansa & Sandor)
Fanfiction... what if the Hound had not died when consummating his revenge?" Sansa and Sandor
