Discover Top Posts Tagged with #scndor

i should have wrote a letter. / @ sansa, reunion maybeee?

Ocean hues flicker upward to look at the brute, breathing softly and shaking her head. For a long time, Sansa wondered what she would say to Sandor Clegane if she ever saw him again. Would she be afraid? Would he try to kiss her or kill her? Ask her for another song? It seems, now, that he didn't desire to do any of these things. If anything, the Hound seemed like... a changed man, almost. Sansa was a woman grown, fierce in her own right, and the woman deemed him not a threat to her life. He never could, even if he wanted to, she realized. He'd had so many opportunities, he could've killed her that night at the Battle of Blackwater Bay and yet he never did. ❝𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨.❞ she tells him, ❝𝐍𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥.❞

It seemed that the past was coming back to haunt her, ghosts resurfacing from her old life, from her maiden's dreams, that she'd never thought she'd see again after all this time. Sansa Stark was a direwolf and daughter of the Kings of Winter and King Torrhen Stark and Lord Cregan Stark and Lord Eddard Stark; she feared no ghosts.

Lady padded towards her side, her golden eyes observing the tall stranger, and a gloved hand reached for her for to pet the direwolf. The she-wolves didn't see a threat, but a welcome, if not confusing, return. Sandor would immediately know upon looking at her that this was not the same little bird he knew back in the capital. Her chin, cheeks, arms, wrists, hands, and forehead were marked with traditional tattoos: three blue lines with dots down from her lower lip down to her chin, a symbol that she was of age to be married, her first moon's blood that she would've gotten had she remained in the North but instead spent at Blackwater Bay, to demonstrate her inner strength and to test her tolerance for pain as a sign of virtue in such a harsh environment in the North; two parallel 'y' markings across her cheeks speckled with dots and two 'v' shaped markings on her forehead to symbolize transitioning from girlhood into womanhood, and a series of rings, lines and arrows on her arms, wrists, hands and fingers to honor and respect the Lady of the Waves, her long firekissed hair done in traditional twin braids and the remainders of her auburn hair cascading.

Sansa turns to Brienne, gives her the okay to withdraw and leave them alone. Dressed in a black dress with the Direwolf of Stark and a weirwood embroidered onto it, the Lady of Winterfell draws closer. ❝𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐮𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?❞

#answered.#sansa stark. || ic.#scndor #interactions; sandor clegane.#v; the winds of winter.#they make me physically ill. btw

@scndor / @prodigum begged for a mobile starter bc she couldn’t wait for me to get home to do this

“Can I go where you go?” Sansa asked. “Will we always be this close?”

#you said I dare you #I said bet #crack tbt.#scndor #prodigum #to be deleted.

A DANCE WITH DRAGONS; ACCEPTING @scndor asked ❛ words are wind. words cannot harm me. ❜

“Words and wind can both still cut anything exposed to them.” The words were spoken quietly, her head tilted in gentle contemplation. Sandor Clegane struck her as a man with few exposed parts. A tower of mail and steel, but possessing armor of the spirit as well. A necessity, she supposed, to forge that armor around himself. Adelaide had no such armor. All her soft parts and raw nerves seemed to be on display, open for a sharp word to puncture and scar. She didn’t know any other way of being. “They need not do harm to hurt.”

#scndor #*❀ ic; answered #*❀ verse; got

@scndor // starter call.

‘ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ’ 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 for someone who takes orders from a lesser man under the guise of chivalry. KINGS DO NOT HIT WOMEN. their guards do. THE HOUND is a man who takes orders from others. he’s a dog.

sansa cannot help but to feel a sense of hatred for the vessel of the prince’s violence, too. he is hard & unforgiving —— a MOUNTAIN in his own right. but to think that he might have the same nightmares of her that she has of him was rewarding. tucked away in her chambers where she might find respite, sansa had always HOPED with a young childish fervor that the hound had nightmares of her bruised & bloodied face, too. he DESERVED it, for all the harm he had caused. & not just to her, she knows ——

‘ you’ve killed other men. ’

a statement that sounds so empty on its own when she says it, but the words are heavy enough. you MURDERER. it’s a curse she lays upon him —— the only thing large enough sansa can manage to combat with while still a child herself.

#scndor #well shes a brat but :/