Escaping Kings Landing (Sandor x Reader)

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AN: So, I know this idea has been used countless times, but I wanted to do my little version of the escape, where you're fighting side by side with everyone first.  Not hugely fluffy or romantic, but there are definitely cute little hints of it.  This is my first Sandor fic, so I very much hope you enjoy.

I will be updating my GoT oneshot book regularly each Sunday. I may sneak in little extra ones here and there, but I'm keeping scheduled updates to once a week on this for now.


Though you had been instructed by your sister to stay in the Red Keep with the other women, you were nothing like your sister.  Those out there that were risking their lives over Stannis Baratheon’s attack were people that you cared for, and you were not going to sit in hiding while the men were slaughtered by Stannis’s army.  You had taken the sword that your brother Jamie had given you years prior, back when he found out your little secret enjoyment of sword play, and you had tied your hair back under a set of armour. When the attack had struck the walls of King’s Landing, you fought merceliously by the side of your fellow people.  

Unlike your sister, you actually cared for the supposed underlings that were out risking their lives.  Those whom would fight for the kingdom did have a leader beside them, though they were blissfully unaware of your presence.  The one person, though, whom had been there to protect your arrogant nephew, sister, and all of the kingdom as what most would refer to as “The Hound”, knew every knight, squire, and face of everyone that came in and out of King’s Landing.  It had not taken long for him to realize that it was you, and though he did not announce it to the world, he did keep a careful eye on you during the battle.  

As time went on, arrows flying back and forth, swords clashing aggressively upon one another, King’s Landing was falling.  The army was being slaughtered, and no matter the help of one person whom stuck their nose where they were told not to, the results were looking bleak.  Through the chaos, you had felt yourself being pulled by your armor away from the battle. Originally, you had thought that the strong arm belonged to a Stannis knight, and you brought your sword up to slash at the man holding you.  Much to your surprise, the man had Lannister armor adorning him, and shushed you with a gruff voice.  

Pulling you away from the action fully, he somewhat forcefully removed your helm.  From under his own helm, you could hear the gruff voice say, “Don’t fret, little bird,” and you could almost hear a soft smile upon the gruff man’s face.  That voice, though it was somewhat muffled by the helm, was familiar to you. Though you were not absolutely sure, you figured that Sandor had found you and taken you away from it all.  “You could have gotten ya’rself killed out there.”

“It’s better than my cowardly sister holding up in the keep,” you countered firmly, your gentle voice having a stern underlay to it.  “This wretched battle was her atrocity anyhow.”

He let out a hearty chuckle, placing an armored hand upon your shoulder.  “I take it ya’re not a fan of ‘er?” he questioned between fits of laughter.  

“I’d much rather die in battle than spend another minute in the throne room, Sandor” you said with a soft sigh.  

“Let’s get ya’ out of ‘ere, then,” he said firmly, though under his helm he was somewhat softened by the fact that you had addressed him by his name.  The two of you were never particularly close, seeing as your sister would not have allowed that, but you did treat him with respect. For that matter, though it was your secret alone in all of King’s Landing, you were fond of the scarred, apparent brute.  Sandor Clegane had been nothing but kind to you, and you showed him the respect that he deserved. He was not a dog, a mutt, or any of those wretched things that your nephew, sister, and just about anyone in your family had said about him. He was a killer when it was necessary, but his brother, the Mountain, was the only one that seemed to truly enjoy the endeavour outside of orders.  

Sandor had allowed you to strip out of the heavy armor that you adorned before sneaking you through the castle.  Stopping at your room, you had grabbed a few small necessities that you would be able to carry upon yourself, and while you gathered them, he watched softly from the doorway.  He had stripped himself of the helm that he wore, though he insisted upon keeping the armor that was against his own body. After all, you rarely saw the man without plated armor on him anyhow.  When you were ready, the two of you flee King’s Landing entirely, the sounds of battle slowly grew silent behind you as you ran.  

Once the two of you had reached the town itself, you stopped at the stables to grab his horse, which he had helped you onto before the two of you rode out of the area.  Where you two were going was a mystery to you both, but as far away from King’s Landing was the current objective. Most of the ride was silent, and you held on tightly to his armor plated waist as the two of you rode.  The further that the two of you ventured, the more free you had felt for the first time in a long time.  

When it had been hours that the two of you rode, he finally offered for the two of you to stop at a nearby inn.  Though you had not grabbed a lot of gold from your chambers, you had grabbed more than enough to suffice, agreeing that it would be nice to actually get some rest.  The two of you saved money by getting one room, and you let out a relieving sigh once the two of you got into the room.  

“Sandor,” you said softly as you sat upon the bed in the room the two of you were sharing, causing him to glance over at  you. At first glance, with the blood stains upon your face, as well as the outfit you adorned, you did not look like a princess, let alone a queen.  Not to say that you were not beautiful, but you showed your difference from your sister Cersei in the way that you carried yourself this day. To your call, you received merely a grunt from the man, urging you to continue, but something in his eyes showed that despite his indifference in his tone, his eyes awaited each and every word.  “I wanted to say thank you.”

He tried to fight that gentle smile that perched against his lips, but even the will of the strong man was nothing compared to someone showing him a simple kindness.  His brown orbs may normally have been cold, yet they never seemed so towards you. They had a warmness about them as they met your y/e/c orbs, and you could not help but let a light tinge of blush rise in your cheeks.  “Don’t mention it,” he murmured out, though you could tell that he was just trying to play off the smile that was previously upon his lips.  

That night, though he had protested, the two of you had shared the inn’s bed, and subconsciously you had rolled into his arms.  Since you were fast asleep, he had allowed himself to wrap his arm firmly around you before he finally fell into slumber. In the morning, if the two of you still lied together so tightly, he would argue that he merely meant to keep you safe, though deep down he just may have been able to admit that he enjoyed the feeling of your fragile frame in his arms.

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