@ashedrose ⊹ plotted starter
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘. it hardly feels as though they are still in westeros most days. when he is by himself , he feels far too alone. and when he is not , he feels like an outsider. watched too carefully.
sandor supposes he should be grateful for the shelter and the freedom it offers while he figures out what is next for him. little of him is expected and the lack of purpose is wearing at his own sanity. sandor would have preferred to drop margaery off and return to kill his brute of a brother before the coming war claims his life first. he cannot , however , go back to kings landing , not while cersei rules. not while his brother stands as her shadow. no , gregor is untouchable now. sandor would find a way eventually. his fate is written in stone and sandor finds it in himself to be patient.
sandor prefers to stay indoors these days. the reason behind that choice is not one that he cares to dwell on. when the sun begins to set , he allows himself out on one of the upper balconies — one he has found margaery returning from on more than one occasion. nice view of the sunset , or something he supposes. his heavy footsteps announce his entrance , soles of his boots scraping against the solid , rocky ground that is found all throughout the castle. upon spotting her on the balcony , he walks over to stand beside her. eyes mostly down and not out. and this is becoming a habit of his — finding her. she is more like home than anyone else around and he supposes he can accept that she brings him comfort. why he desires this comfort more frequently each day , he cannot say.
❝ do you actually enjoy watching the damned sunset or do you do it because you're playing a lady? ❞ sandor asks quietly in hopes of keeping the conversation between the two. like embroidery , he thinks. there's no way women actually enjoy embroidery. but they sit there and they do it. got to be an act. something to remind the world that they're ladies , as if it would ever forget.