Bride To Be // Sandor Clegane

45. King of the North

Falling for you // Cersei Lannister // Jaime lannister out now!!

'What are you doing?' Sansa questioned as Joffrey came up offering his arm.

'Your father is dead and I am the king so I'm everyone's father.' Joffrey said gripping onto her arm.

As they walked down the aisle Joffrey marched up the steps taking the stool from the stage for Tyrion to stand on. As the ceremony went on Tyrion couldn't help but think if only he pushed for that marriage to Thea, then he wouldn't be getting married to a child. Either way both women hated him but at least thea was a woman. Dark hair, deep eyes, he should have pushed when she was here, then he wouldn't be marrying a child.

When it was time to cloak Sansa with Tyrion's protection he looked awkwardly up at her not able to reach her shoulders everyone laughed but the snigger died quickly as Tywin shot them a glare

'If you could,' Tyrion said and sansa knelt down before him. He cloaked her she rose and he pressed a quick kiss to her lips very awkwardly Sansa looked like she was going to barf, pale and in pain her heart pounding with anxiety and nerves.

++

'So their son will be your nephew after you are wed to Joffrey of course,' Olena said 'and you'll be the king stepfather and brother-in-law when you marry the King's mother. Joffrey will become his sister-in-law and your son will be Loras nephew? grandson... I'm not sure but your brother will become your father-in-law that much is beyond dispute.' Olenna said and Loras stood up a knot in his stomach.

'You seem rather drunk.' Tywin said as he approached Tyrion, the feast was in full swing Sansa looked miserable. Tyrion looked up to his father, a drunken gaze in his glazed eyes.

'Isn't it a grooms duty, a man's duty to be drunk at his own wedding?' Tyrion questioned over his glass.

'This isn't about your wedding. Renly Baratheon had a wedding, your wife needs a child, a Lannister child.' Tywin told him. Tyrion sat slumped in his chair bored and not nearly drunk enough to have this conversation. 'As soon as possible.' Tywin added.

'And?'

'If you're going to give her one you need to perform.' Tywin reminded him.

'What did you once call me? A drunken little lust filled beast?' Tyrion reminded him

'More than once.' Tywin agreed.

'There you have it I am the god of tits and wine I shall build a shrine to myself.'

'You can joke,' Tywin said pulling the glass from his lips 'you can engage in juvenile attempts to make your father uncomfortable but you will do your duty.' Tywin said walking away.

'Time for the bedding ceremony!' Joffrey declared.

'No,' Tyrion told him anger fueling him.

'There is if I say so, so Bedding ceremony!' Joffrey said happily. Tyrion stabbed his knife down into the table.

'then you'll be fucking your own bride with a wooden cock.' Tyrion threatened. Tywin stood up, clearing his throat, the room went silent.

'What did you say to me?' Joffrey questioned 'What. Did. You. Say!'

''I believe we can dispense with the bedding your Grace I'm sure tyrion did not mean to threaten the king.' Tywin suggested calmly glancing over at Tyrion and Tyrion started to laugh.

'A bad joke your grace.' Tyrion said laughing releasing his hand that was clutched very tightly to his knife 'a small man's envy of your own royal manhood.. mine is so small my poor wife won't even know I'm there.' Tyrion added, the tension slowly faded from the room.

'Your uncle is clearly quite drunk your grace.' Tywin told him.

'I am.' Tyrion agreed. 'guilty.' He looked to sansa. 'come wife. I will tell you about the time I threw up on someone while fucking. It's a great story actually.' Sansa begrudgingly left.

++

The rest of the journey to the twins was quiet, Thea liked the quiet especially when the alternative was sandor and arya threatening each other every five fucking seconds. Arya was quietly grumbling that her ass hurt and that sandor stunk and this was uncomfortable and sandor should have died. Sandor ignored her, focusing on the road ahead. Arya sat in the back while Aroura sat on the bench next to sandor wrapped up in his arm until they got closer, then she was sent to the back. Her and arya put a tarp over themselves as they approached the gates.

It was dark by the time they arrived, maybe they would be right on time.

'where you going?' a frey guard asked stopping them, arya and Thea hid in the back.

'I got salt pork for the feast.'

'the feast is over.'

'it doesn't sound like its over' sandor questioned, laughter and voices echoed throughout the twins.

'if I tell you its over, its over.' The guard said, 'turn this cart around and get the hell out of here.'

'I got pigs feet too.' Sandor offered.

'are you soft in the head? Turn this cart around.' the guard demanded. But they were not about to leave empty handed.

Arya jumped from the cart and Thea watched her go.

'Sandor,' Thea whispered pointing at arya in the distance.

'For fucks sake.' He muttered following after her, Thea jumped up following sandor when they saw stark men fall to the ground. Stark men falling to the ground, frey men laughing... Robbs wolf... shot, shot dead. Arya gasped as she followed slowly after them. Before anger filled her, arya ran forward wanting to help, wanting to kill.

'its too late.' Sandor said throwing arya over his shoulder. 'come on. Best get out of here while we still can.' Thea nodded following him. But the cheers stopped her.

'HERE COMES THE KING OF THE NORTH, THE KING OF THE NORTH, THE KING OF THE NORTH!' the frey men cheered riding Robb in but his head wasn't his head. It was his wolf. They had sewn Robbs wolf onto his own shoulders. Thea felt sick, as sandor wrapped a large hand around her arm guiding her away. Arya looked at the scene speechless.

'come on, lets go.' Sandor pushed on. This wasn't a safe place for Starks anymore, if ever. A massacre at a wedding. Robb and Catelyn stark were dead.