Game of Thrones: Imagines and one shots. Book three

Fear and love - Part 9 - Sandor x Joffrey x Reader

Apologies for the lack of updates, but I have been on holiday. I am home now though, so there should be more updates to come. Hope you enjoy this.

Sandor huffed, as he felt someone sit down next to him in the seats that surrounded the practice arena. He had been there all morning, watching the duo in the centre. He wasn't there for the boy, in truth he couldn't give a shit about Joffrey, he was there to watch his aunt; to make sure that she stayed safe. Not that he didn't think that she wasn't capable of looking after herself, especially against the likes of her nephew who was more suited to wearing a sword than wielding one. Not that she hadn't proved herself time and time again in battle, her skin littered with permanent reminders that she had seen and done things that no lady of her standing should. No, he was watching her because as inept with the blade as Joffrey really was, that ineptitude could make the boy king dangerous. That, and there was no telling if Joffrey would lose his temper and have one of his outbursts.

"So...............?" A voice enquired. Eyes rolling, as Sandor simply huffed again in reply.

"Has my dear, beautiful, yet slightly terrifying sister finally accepted what the rest of us have, and decided to kill the little shit?" Tyrion continued, as he watched (Y/n) knock their nephew to the floor. Joffrey holding his hands over his head, as his aunt brought her sword down, stopping just before she hit him. The lioness growling at the boy to stop cowering and get to his feet. Telling him that he had the reputation of his father to live up to, and that he would never act like that. (Y/n) picking up Joffrey's sword and throwing it at him, before telling him to get to his feet and come after her again.

"No.............she said she's training him. Said a real king should know how to protect his kingdom. Crazy woman thinks she can turn him into a good king.........." Sandor finally replied. Tyrion not quite sure whether the big man was actually talking to him, or just commenting about (Y/n) to himself.

Tyrion still wasn't sure why his sister was bothering. It was one thing that she had been able to persuade Joffrey to send the poor Stark girl back to her family, and despite what Joffrey had said, the little lord was well aware that the whole thing had been (Y/n)'s idea; that she had never liked how Sansa had been treated by their nephew since Ned's execution and had taken it upon herself to befriend the child. But it was another thing trying to turn the atrocious little cunt into a good king. Tyrion well aware that his sister was capable of many things, but something like that would, he was sure, take the intervention of the gods.

"Shame. I was hoping that she would do all of us a favour and stick that sword of hers through his heart. That is if she could find it." Tyrion sighed, before propping his feet up on the seat in front of him. His eyes moving between his sister and the man by his side.

Tyrion was no fool, despite what Sandor might, or might not say. Despite what the Hound might or might not do, Tyrion had seen that look in a man's eye before. He was sure that it had been in his own eyes at some point............. it was, well, to put no too fine a point on it...............the look of a man in love. And no matter what the warrior might say, he could never hide that look. Could never hide how his hand would instinctively reach for the hilt of his sword when the hideous sycophant, Trant, would get too close to her. Never hide the growl when someone might say something had didn't like about the lady. Never hide the threats that Tyrion had heard Sandor had made when some unworthy lord had shown some interest in (Y/n) as far as a marriage was concerned. For even though the lioness was not your usual lady; even though she was no good at sewing, even though she hated sitting with Cersei and the other women of the court as they gossiped, she was still a Lannister, still the younger daughter of the Hand of the King and aunt of the king himself; so, to wed her would be a coup for any man. The man not only getting himself a wife, but a warrior that could and would defend his House against any other.

"She succeeding?" The youngest lion continued, as he watched his sister force Joffrey backwards. The boy once again falling to the floor; his sword having flown halfway across the arena.

"What do you think?" Sandor grunted in reply, as he and Tyrion watched (Y/n) let out a heavy sigh as her shoulders dropped. Her hand reaching out to help up the prone boy.

"Yes, well, never let anyone say that my dearest sister doesn't like a challenge. Though turning that insufferable fucker into a real king might be a challenge too far; therefore, I think that I will leave you to it." Tyrion added, as he pulled his boots from the seat and got to his feet. The lion shaking his head, as Sandor just kept his eyes fixed on the lioness. Watching as she came to stand behind the boy and pulled him close. Her arm positioning Joffrey's, her leg moving his into the correct stance.

                                                       >>---------------------------------<<

They had been doing this for what felt like hours. It was obvious to anyone that he was certainly no match for his aunt. But that didn't mean that he wanted to stop. Especially not now, as she pulled him to her chest and moved his arm. As she used her leg to move his. Her body so close that he was sure that he could taste her. That the light perfume that she wore, was not only filling the air around him, but also his senses. It was true that she had knocked him to the ground more times than he would like; that she had knocked his sword from his hand with such ease that he might as well not be holding one. But despite this, despite the fact that his Hound had been watching all this time from the seats, even though Joffrey had expressly said that he didn't want him to; that he was perfectly safe in the presence of his aunt, he had forgotten all about that as (Y/n) had instructed him. As she had moved around the area with such style and grace that Joffrey was sure that was dancing. The young king not even able to imagine what she must have been like on the battlefield. How terrifying his beautiful aunt must be in full flight, her face covered in mud and blood as she raced towards the enemy with her sword raised above her head. A roar coming from her lips as she killed enemy after enemy.

"Now, remember to keep your arm up and don't hold the hilt of your sword to tight, it can make it easier to disarm you..........I think that that is enough for the day. We will do more tomorrow. For now, go and change, we have things to discuss. Issues with the villages within the Kingswood that I wish to inform you about. We have to show the smallfolk that you can be trusted. That you care about the issues that they are facing." (Y/n) said, as she finally moved away from him, much to Joffrey's chagrin.

"Will you come with me...............?" Joffrey enquired, as he turned to look at his aunt who was wiping off the hilt of her sword.

"No..........I............I have something I have to do first. But I will be with you soon.........." (Y/n) replied, her eyes looking up to the big man that still sat in his seat. The lioness not noticing the look on Joffrey's face, before he turned and left the area. The lady slowly making her way up to speak to Sandor.