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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.

Chapter List
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This chapter's a tiny one! Useless Shae and mean Sandor..But as they say, cruel to be kind! Please rate and review!! : )
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“My Lady?”
Startled, Sansa looked up from her needlework, which she had abandoned minutes ago in favour or simply staring at the various threads, until they all blended together into one indecipherable blur of colour.
“What?”
“I said you’ve seemed so distracted today M’Lady. And the day before…Is everything alright?”
“I’m sorry Shae, I’m just tired, that’s all…it’s nothing.” Sansa smiled weakly at her maid before quickly returning to her sewing.
Indeed, she had been distracted ever since her last encounter with Sandor Clegane. She could not stop hearing his cruel words, confirming her worst fears; that in this place she was friendless and helpless. She could trust no one, and her very existence depended solely on Joffrey’s unpredictable whims.
“Shall I get you some tea M’Lady? Perhaps that would help?”, Shae offered kindly.
Sansa nodded silently and watched as the young woman exited the room. As Shae closed the door, she sighed deeply. What she would do for just a moment alone. She hadn’t returned to her secret hideaway for fear of being discovered, yet again, by the Hound. Yet how she yearned to…
The sound of hurried footsteps and angry voices, one of which was undoubtedly Shae’s, just outside her chamber brought Sansa out of her reverie. As she recognised to whom the second belonged, the young girl rose from her seat and moved behind her chair, the only form of protection she could find. Anything to gain distance from him.
“What do you want? Where are you taking her?”
“King’s business, woman. I don’t have to answer to the likes of you.”
With a loud bang Sandor pushed open the heavy wooden door of Sansa’s chambers. He was as large and terrifying as ever, clad all in black save for his new white cloak, and the customary look of displeasure plastered across his wounded visage.
“Come on girl, the King wants you,” he ordered.
Sansa stood immobile, her nails digging into the wood of the chair. No, he would not take her away, back to her tormentor, to be beaten yet again…
“Are you deaf girl? I said now!” Sandor was clearly loosing what little patience he had, yet Sansa refused to move.
“No…” she whispered, her eyes fixated on his.
“What?” he rasped, sounding rather incredulous as he made several slow steps in her direction, “the fuck did you say?”
“I said no, I won’t go! You cannot force me to leave my chambers against my will!” she yelled, adrenaline overtaking common sense and apparently her will to survive this place.
For a few seconds Sandor seemed genuinely shocked by her sudden rebellion, yet the affect soon wore off as he growled and made his way across the room.
“The hell I can’t…”
He grabbed her wrist and roughly pulled her towards him.The chair clattered to the ground and Sansa cried out as he dragged her towards the door, “No! Stop it! Let me go!”
“Quit your struggling girl, it’s no use…”
Sansa turned to look toward Shae, hoping to find assistance, or at the very least pity, but her maid had her eyes firmly fixed to the floor.
Sandor flung Sansa into the hallway where she stumbled gracelessly and all but fell to the ground, before slamming her door shut and turning to face her. The look he bore was one of anger as he approached her, but Sansa stood her ground, even as he leaned towards her and bared his teeth.
“You pull shit like that again, and you’ll soon find your head on a pike rotting away next to your father’s”, he hissed.
“Good!” Sansa screamed, standing tall and unafraid. All reason had fled her; there was nothing left put pain and fury.
“I’d rather die than be a slave in this place! Do you hear me? I’d rather die! I’d rather- ”
Slap!
The sharp sound reverberated off the stone walls and came to an end with a deafening silence.
Sansa’s trembling hand came to hold her burning cheek, as she brought her gaze to meet that of her agressor. His eyes were so cold, so hardened…
“Next time you won’t be so lucky little Bird. You’ll get your wish, and it’ll be Joffrey’s sword you feel against your neck, not my hand on your pretty face,” he said calmly and with a strange air of defeat. “Now come. Enough of this.”
And Sansa followed.
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Folie à deux