Folie à deux | By : AnnabelleLeeinakingdombythesea Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 20066 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don’t own GOT which is the property of George RR Martin. None of the characters are my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only. |
Hey guys, this is my first fic so be kind! Enjoy : )
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Sansa pressed her forehead and shaking palms against the old, musty stones of the Red Keep, inhaling slowly and deeply in an attempt to calm her racing heart. This small chamber which she had discovered only days ago, formerly a servants quarters by the looks of the limp, straw filled mattress and lack of finery, had long since been abandoned. Yet the dark and dusty little room was now her only means of escape. Here she was alone; truly and finally alone. Far from all of their leering eyes and Joffrey’s cruel smirk. How could they find such pleasure in her pain and humiliation? How could they all simply stand idle as she was beaten and stripped? She, Sansa Stark of Winterfell, of noble blood. Little good that did her now, as the head of Ned Stark- the traitor, her father- continued to rot away on a pike.
She realised she owed a great deal to Lord Tyrion. Without his intervention, she knew not how much further Joffrey would have allowed his King’s guard to progress…Sansa struggled to recall exactly what the Imp had said to his nephew to make him cease his cruel game, for the sound of blood pumping in her ears had been all too overpowering as she sat cowering on the throne room floor. Yet she had not forgotten the sudden heavy weight of a thick cloak falling upon her naked, trembling shoulders. Sandor Clegane….a fowl mouthed, brute of a man with half a face, and the only one who had averted his gaze as Ser Meryn tore mercilessly at her gown; who refused to revel in her shame. Upon being returned to her chambers, Sansa had placed that white cloak within a trunk, hidden safely under her bed. She knew not exactly why.
"I cannot stay here all night…sadly.” she thought to herself, finally pulling away from the wall. Gazing out of the only window of her makeshift sanctuary, Sansa looked upon the dark purple sky and sighed. No doubt she was currently missing the privilege that was dinning with her Lord, her beloved King. After today, however, the young ruler would likely not be requesting the pleasure of her company, although someone would soon be along to ensure she was safely trapped within her chambers. Slowly, Sansa lifted the large hood of her silken cape over her rust coloured tresses, careful to tuck the ends behind her shoulders. Though proud of her Tully attributes, she had quickly learned that they inhibited her ability to roam the halls of the castle undetected. Satisfied with her disguise, Sansa slowly opened the room’s creaky wooden door and slipped out, making a sharp left and heading down the hall in the direction of her quarters.
“Perhaps I could bring some books next time, to occupy myself. Or even a bit of sewing.” She could not help but smile as she schemed, oh so pleased at the thought of furnishing her little hideaway. “It’ll need a chair as well, some candles- “ Suddenly, Sansa’s musing were cut short by the painful sensation of a powerful, armour clad hand grasping her delicate right arm, using it to twist her entire body back around. She yelped loudly, in surprise and in pain, yet the sound instantly caught in her throat as she came face to face with her assailant.
“Well, well, well….” Sandor Clegane smiled, or rather grimaced as best as his scars would allow, as he tightened his grip on Sansa, pulling her closer to his hulking form.
“Look at what I found wandering about. Isn’t it well past your bed time little Bird?” He was so close she could feel the heat of his massive body through his armour, and the ghosting of his wine soaked breath on her chin.
“How? How did he find me? How did he know it was me? Has he been…following me?” Panic stricken, Sansa attempted to answer, but managed only to stare at his terrifying ruin of a face, and into his angry grey eyes. Yet her lack of response seemed only to aggravate him further, as he shook her slightly and growled,
“Answer me girl! What are ya’ doin’ out here?” he demanded, violently pulling off her hood and exposing her pale face to the light of the hallway torches.
“I-I-I was looking for my maid servant. She has not yet been to see me and I grew concerned. I was simply trying to find her. Please Ser, release me, you’re hurting me!” Sansa all but whined, lamely attempting to pull out the giant’s steely hold.
“Bugger that! Don’t think you can fool me, little Bird. I’m not one of your pathetic Sers that you can charm with your pretty words and your pretty face,” he spoke menacingly as he began to draw nearer, causing Sansa to pull away in fear, only to come to a sudden stop as she felt the rough stones of the wall scrape against her back. His face was now only inches from hers, as he bent over her small form, one massive paw still firmly holding her arm in place, the other now came to grip the back of her neck, forcing her to tilt her head upwards.
“I can smell your lies. Aye, a dog can always sniff em’ out…” he mumbled, and as if to prove his point, lowered his head towards the crook of her neck before inhaling loudly and deeply.
Sansa’s head was spinning as she fought for breath. She was certain the only thing keeping her upright was the man currently pinning her to the wall, and that he could see if not feel the delicate veins in her neck pulsating rapidly as she fought to remain conscious.
“Se-Clegane, I beg of you….stop….don’t touch me.” she whimpered, her voice trembling and her hands coming to push uselessly against him. In her head, Sansa repeated the same mantra over and over, “He won’t hurt me, he showed me kindness when father died, during Joffrey’s Nameday, and again today. He won’t hurt me…”
But her pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears as Sandor chuckled lightly and rasped in her ear, “And what if I want to touch you little Bird? What if I want to dirty the King’s fucking betrothed?”
Sansa gasped as the hand which had been holding her arm came to rest on her hip where it pressed insistently.
“Dirty me?”, she though, terrified. Did this beast plan to take her maidenhead? To mercilessly rape her, right here in the halls of the Red Keep? She was not utterly innocent, despite her inexperience, and Sansa knew the mechanics of how a man and a woman made love….and the thought of this man pumping savagely in and out of her woman’s place seemed wrong, oh so wrong.
Gathering her courage, Sansa spoke as quickly and steadily as she could, “You would not take me
against my will, you are no monster…You are not like the other Knights. You are good and honourable, my Lord…you will not hurt me. You’ve protected me.”
Abruptly, Sandor pulled back and stared angrily into her clear blue eyes. He sneered and tightened his grip in her hair, causing Sansa to wince in pain.
“Is that what you think? That I’m your fucking protector? Such a stupid little Bird…no one here is your friend, no one is on your side! We’re all out to hurt you, to bloody you, one way or another.”
With that, he released Sansa and the young girl, utterly exhausted, slid to the floor as tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.
“Get back to bed, child” he said with an air of near contempt. “Before Ser Meryn, or worse yet, your beloved King realise that you’ve managed to escape your cage.”
Sansa closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his heavy boots retreating down he hall. Eventually, there was silence, and she was alone, once again.
***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************Let me know if you guys enjoyed it! For those who did, more to come!!
xo
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