Dragons and Wolves

Chapter 9

Sansa watched the Hound take out ten rangers of the Night's Watch. What was supposed to be a training exercise had turned into the Hound beating them, badly.

"Ser, could you teach me that twisting stroke of your sword?" One of the men asked, shaking snow off of his dark clothes, excited they had a great swordsman working with them.

"I'm not a Ser, never was," the Hound growled at him, "And don't ever call me that again if you fancy having your head attached to your neck."

Sansa winced knowing he meant every word of it.

The men of the Night's Watch just laughed his gruffness off and continued their brawl.

The Hound quirked his good eyebrow, surprised and a little annoyed his crotchetiness wasn't working on them.

Sansa watched him in silence, wary of his motives, Sam on one side of her and Ghost on the other.

He was dressed in the black of the Watch, for some reason unknown to her, without the shiny, metallic armor the burnt side of his face was far less noticeable.

"Hound!" Rickon ran out with his little short sword, "I want to spar too."

Shaggydog ran behind him, the black behemoth of a direwolf nipping at his master's heels. He barked and it rang out through the clearing loudly.

"Go away kid, you'll just get hurt," The Hound turned to glare at the youngest Stark.

"Rickon! Come over here!" Sansa didn't want the big man to accidently hurt her brother.

The Hound gave her a sinister look, "Fine boy, you can stay, do you know how to hold the sword?"

Rickon turned to look at Sansa for permission

Sansa sighed and waved her hand, he was trying to one-up her. He probably wouldn't hurt Rickon, probably. Hopefully... she sighed, who could take the Hound in a fight if something did go wrong?  They'd need one of the Queen's dragons!  Or perhaps Ghost and Shaggydog combined could take him out.

"Shaggydog!" She called to Ghost's brother, beckoning him over so he didn't get underfoot. He padded over wagging his tail and barking, Shaggydog sat down next to his brother. He licked his Ghost's face, to which Ghost growled slightly in response.

They looked like night and day. And it wasn't just the monochromatic difference. Ghost had been trained at the wall, he was a soldier like Jon, calm and poised and ready to strike. Dangerous in a clever, sinister way.

Shaggydog was half-wild, most of his life on the run with Rickon and the wildling woman Osha, He was a sheer force of power, the danger in him was his untamed personality.

But he had been missing Summer terribly, the ocher direwolf the only one who could calm Shaggydog down.

Sansa still wished Lady was alive.

The Hound's voice drew her from her thoughts.

"Good," The Hound nodded, almost unwilling to praise the boy, "Who taught you the sword?"

"My sister!" Rickon smiled, just as wild and loud as Shaggy Dog.

The Hound pointed to Sansa, "This one? The little bird knows how to fight?"

Sam had been getting more and more tense at her side, "Master Clegane, I-I don't think the nickname is a-a-appropriate, Sansa Stark is a p-princess of the North and she sh-should be addressed as such."

Sansa turned to look at Sam, surprised at the maester's reprimand. Did Sam have a deathwish?

Everyone in the clearing grew very quiet, even Rickon stilled.