killing_kurare (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
killing_kurare) wrote2016-12-20 09:11 pm
killing_kurare) wrote2016-12-20 09:11 pm
Game of Thrones - Sansa/Sandor - Know your place
Title: Know your place
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters: Sandor/Sansa
Wordcount: 434
Rating: G
Challenge:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic: Any, Any, Song of the Caged Bird (Lindsey Stirling)
Sandor likes to tell himself that he abjured compassion and any feeling related to it, seeing the world as it is. You're either hunter or prey, strong or weak, and if you choose to be latter, it's your own fault.
But getting to know the little bird he found himself wavering. Surely she is no fighter, but to call her weak would also be wrong. There aren't many women who would endure what she does and still have dignity and innocence surround her like a shield (though it can't protect her).
Sansa Stark has a way of looking at him that melts away all this hate, this thick wall he has built around himself. To care for someone can only end in hurt, wanting to protect someone can only end in failure because nothing in this world can last. (He has learnt the hard way.)
When the sun shines upon the vermin of King's Landing, his contempt for people burns hotter than ever; he knows who he is and his place in this world, doesn’t question his fate or the things that happened to him.
But comes the night (and the alcohol) he can’t help but wish for another life, for another fate, another chance.
He wanders through the Red Keep with steady steps even though his head is swimming in wine and his senses are clouded, and without even realizing it, he reaches the little bird’s chambers. Since he heard her sing the songs of the North (the songs of a caged bird), he can’t stay away, is addicted to her sweet voice that tells him stories about lands far away, about home and family …
It’s so different from when the Lannisters want her to sing (‘then it’s just love and knights and honor,’ he thinks, huffs and spits on the ground) for now he can really sense her soul in the words, can hear who she really is, and her sadness is killing him inside (killing something he thought had died a long time ago).
That’s when he leans against the wall and closes his eyes, dares to dream, dares to think that maybe there’ll be a chance for him to become something more than the Hound. Because how can one call him Monster when he’d be protecting something as beautiful and pure as the little bird?
But as soon as her song has ended, Sandor wipes his tears away angrilly and calls himself a fool for dreaming and hoping - because he knows what he is, knows where his place is … and it’s sure as hell not at her side.
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters: Sandor/Sansa
Wordcount: 434
Rating: G
Challenge:
comment_fic: Any, Any, Song of the Caged Bird (Lindsey Stirling)Sandor likes to tell himself that he abjured compassion and any feeling related to it, seeing the world as it is. You're either hunter or prey, strong or weak, and if you choose to be latter, it's your own fault.
But getting to know the little bird he found himself wavering. Surely she is no fighter, but to call her weak would also be wrong. There aren't many women who would endure what she does and still have dignity and innocence surround her like a shield (though it can't protect her).
Sansa Stark has a way of looking at him that melts away all this hate, this thick wall he has built around himself. To care for someone can only end in hurt, wanting to protect someone can only end in failure because nothing in this world can last. (He has learnt the hard way.)
When the sun shines upon the vermin of King's Landing, his contempt for people burns hotter than ever; he knows who he is and his place in this world, doesn’t question his fate or the things that happened to him.
But comes the night (and the alcohol) he can’t help but wish for another life, for another fate, another chance.
He wanders through the Red Keep with steady steps even though his head is swimming in wine and his senses are clouded, and without even realizing it, he reaches the little bird’s chambers. Since he heard her sing the songs of the North (the songs of a caged bird), he can’t stay away, is addicted to her sweet voice that tells him stories about lands far away, about home and family …
It’s so different from when the Lannisters want her to sing (‘then it’s just love and knights and honor,’ he thinks, huffs and spits on the ground) for now he can really sense her soul in the words, can hear who she really is, and her sadness is killing him inside (killing something he thought had died a long time ago).
That’s when he leans against the wall and closes his eyes, dares to dream, dares to think that maybe there’ll be a chance for him to become something more than the Hound. Because how can one call him Monster when he’d be protecting something as beautiful and pure as the little bird?
But as soon as her song has ended, Sandor wipes his tears away angrilly and calls himself a fool for dreaming and hoping - because he knows what he is, knows where his place is … and it’s sure as hell not at her side.