Sandor watched you stretch after you climbed off your horse. The two of you had been traveling for days, trying to get as far away from King's Landing as possible. Sandor had come to your chambers the night of the Battle of the Blackwater and told you he was leaving. You readily jumped at the chance to escape the city and Joffrey's wrath, so you left with him. Now, for the first time in so long, you felt safe. Filthy and sore, but safe.
"There's an inn in the next village. Perhaps we could stay there tonight?" you suggested. You had a little money in your possession and you were eager to sleep somewhere other than the ground, if only for a night. Sandor grunted in response, but you could see he liked the thought of a warm room for a night and perhaps some ale or wine. You were practically skipping when you reached the inn, making Sandor chuckle to himself. Being away from King's Landing seemed to have done wonders for your morale, even if you were stuck in the wilderness with him.
Once inside, the two of you sat down, told the owner you wanted a room, food and drink for the night. She smiled at you and avoided looking at Sandor. That didn't bother him. He was used to it and, besides, he kept his gaze on you. He vowed to himself that he would keep you safe until he could get you to your family. His eyes remained on you as your food and drink were placed in front of you. If Sandor had known how the drink would affect you, he would never have let you have it.
Your parents had been very strict about your alcohol consumption. Only one goblet of wine at celebrations. That was it and it showed. Sitting with Sandor, you drank and drank and you were soon drunk. When you got drunk, you got giggly and extremely honest, much to Sandor's amusement. You sat across from him, your hand pressed to your lips to try and keep your giggles in. Sandor fought back a chuckle as he took in your red face and wide eyes.
After several minutes of listening to you babble on, Sandor decided it was time for you to go to bed. He got up and extended his hand to you. You took it, but when you went to stand, your legs wouldn't hold you up. Sandor sighed and picked you up, careful not to jostle you too much. You laughed again and rest your head on his chest. "You're really not all that scary looking, you know? You're actually very handsome. And so strong." Sandor just shook his head, knowing it was the ale talking.
When you made it to the room, Sandor carefully laid you down on the bed, but not carefully enough. Sandor was just able to grab the chamber pot in time for you to throw up. He rubbed your back as your meal came up. "'M sorry," you muttered, falling back onto the bed. Sandor chuckled. "Ya need ta drink some water, girl." You shook your head vigorously, instantly regretting it when the room started spinning. He made you sit up slowly and put the wineskin of water to your lips. After you drank, he let you lay back down, knowing you'd have a hell of a hangover in the morning.
"Seven Hells!" Those were the first words out of your mouth the next morning when you tried to open your eyes. Sandor's bark-like laughter simply added to your pounding headache. "Oh gods," you muttered, forcing yourself to sit up slowly so the room wouldn't start spinning. "One thing for certain, ya can't hold yer drink." You groaned, holding your hands to your ears. "Not so loud."
"Come on, girl. We need ta move on if we're gonna find that brother of yers." You glared at him, but got out of bed anyway. "Ya remember anything?" Wincing as you pulled on your shoes, you replied, "Unfortunately. All of it. And yes, before you ask, I remember telling you I thought you were handsome and no, it wasn't the ale talking." It seemed you were totally honest with a hangover as well. You didn't even realize you'd what you'd just said. At least until you turned to look at Sandor and saw the pink tint to his cheeks.
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