Whoop! Whoop! Another chappie!~ This one has been sitting in my computer half finished foreveeeer. Finally I sat down after my Thanksgiving food coma, because I couldn't do anything else but type for the moment and just started writing. I hope you all had a happy Thanksgivukah(Hanukah and Thanksgiving falling on the same day).

And I hope y'all enjoy this one. I certainly did while writing it.

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to George R.R. Martin. I'm just using them for my own amusement.

Ladies & Their Protectors

Sansa hated riding. She despised the smells of hay and stinking horse manure. She didn't much care for her horse's feelings about being bridled and shoe tacking. Those thoughts were frivolous and beneath a lady of her station. Horses were, after all, brutish animals simply used as tools by those who were superior. She didn't like the feeling of sitting atop such a great beast either, the fear of falling ever present in her mind. She wasn't like Arya who enjoyed the thrill of racing through the trees and jumping over fallen logs. No, Sansa rode her horse carefully and gracefully like a lady, never galloping or bouncing around. Sansa always frowned at the activity and avoided it when she could.

However, one day when King Joffrey requested her presence during one of his morning rides she couldn't refuse, no matter how much she detested the idea. They had been riding for quite some time. Joffrey was holding the reigns in one hand and his crossbow in the other in case some unfortunate creature should scurry in front of his path. Sansa thought this would be a quick outing, but Joffrey seemed to be in such high spirits that going back now seemed out of the question. She held in a groan at the thought of being out there all day. Clicking her mare at the sides with her heels she sped up a bit to ride beside Joffrey.

"My Lord, if it is not too much trouble mayhaps we should stop and rest awhile? The sun is nearly overhead and a bit of a snack might be refreshing." She dearly hoped her voice was calm and subservient enough for the sadistic 'King'.

Joffrey's cold eyes slid over to her in contemplation. He tapped his shoulder with the crossbow absentmindedly and Sansa had to stop herself from staring at it, lest he get any ideas.

"Perhaps my lady is right….it's been unseasonably warm, and I know you don't take pleasure in riding as much as I".

Sansa blinked owlishly. "O-oh no your grace! I'm having a splendid time".

Joffrey leveled a steely gaze at her. "Are you correcting me?"

Sansa's body grew very still, her blood felt thick in her veins. "Of course not your grace. Never." The last word came out as a whisper.

Joffrey flashed a quick smile, devious and certainly not genuine. "Well then! If you wish not to ride any more then please, be my guest." He gestured towards the ground. Sansa hesitated; waiting for the catch she knew was coming. Joffrey was not usually so conciliatory without there being something horrible in it for her.

"Go on then!" his tone hardened and the clear command rang through her ears. Quickly Sansa scampered from her horse, not usually accustomed to getting off by herself. She misjudged the distance between her and the ground and fell down on the hard soil. She winced at the jarring fall.

Joffrey threw back his head and laughed heartily. An embarrassed flush spread across Sansa's cheeks as the rest of the King's guard joined in with their own mocking chuckles. Wiping a tear from his eye Joffrey said, "Well, isn't that appropriate? My lady on her arse at my horse's feet." Sansa gritted her teeth at the barb, but said nothing. "Are your legs broken? Get up you foolish girl! I would like to get on with the ride."

An idea formed in Sansa's mind, and her lips twitched with the effort of repressing a smirk. She heaved herself off the ground, but when she put pressure on her ankle a little cry of pain escaped her lips. Hissing between her teeth Sansa said tremulously, "Y-your grace….I-I"

"What is it now girl!? My patience with you grows thin." Joffrey gripped the reins harder to still his hyperactive horse.

Biting her lip and trying to school her features into a mask of pain, which was surprisingly not very hard. "I think I've hurt my ankle, your Grace. I-I don't think I'll be able to continue riding today.'

Joffrey rolled his eyes at her and gave a sigh through his nose. "All right, I don't much care for your presence this morning anyhow."

Nodding, yet still looking quite somber Sansa mumbled, "Yes your grace."

Joffrey snapped his fingers. "Dog! Come here." Sandor Clegane approached with his horse Stranger, making Joffrey look small and pitiful in comparison. Sneering down at Sansa Joffrey commanded, "Take my lady back to her chambers. Make sure her fragile bones stay intact for a while longer for me."

The hound simply nodded, and got off his horse. The rest of the King's guard entourage followed after Joffrey as they carried on their ride.

Once the last of them disappeared into the foliage of the forest Sandor turned to her and smirked. "That was well played girl."

Sansa blinked up at him. "What do you mean?"

He grabbed her mare's reins in his hand so she wouldn't spook at the close proximity of Stranger. "Oh don't play that with me girlie. Just be glad that I was the only one who saw right through you."

Sansa gave a toss of her head and sniffed primly, "I don't have the slightest clue what you are talking about."

Snorting he replied, "Uh huh. So if I do this?" Sandor reached down and grabbed her by the knee. Sansa let out a surprised noise from the back of her throat. He pulled her dress up a few inches and knelt down to examine her ankle. "I should be seeing some swelling and redness, but this looks perfectly pale and slim to me." Sansa could feel the heat of his large and callused hand wrapped around her ankle. It felt most improper to have a man below her station touching her so casually. Poking the bone he looked up at her face to see the cherry red blush staining her cheeks. "And that should have made you feel some pain." When Sansa still did not say anything Sandor released her leg and smirked. "I thought so", he said with an arrogant tone. He stood up to his full height, which was very imposing indeed.

Sansa gulped, and despite the shivers going down her spine spoke up, "How dare you accuse me of lying! To the king no less. He's had people gutted for less than that."

"Aye, and you'd better hope he stays as dim witted as he is now, otherwise you'll have to get better at lying."

A gasp flew through her lips. Calling the king dim witted was certainly not something she expected from the Hound of all people. It wasn't expected from anyone actually. That sort of conversation was usually ended quite abruptly with a sword in the heart. Suddenly Sansa had a thought, 'Perhaps the Hound feels safe out here in the forest, so he's more candid than usual. Does that mean he trusts me? But why would he? I'm just a silly little girl who is going to marry the King.' Sansa's thoughts were swirling about Sandor and more and more questions were popping up.

"Come on then little bird, best we get you back before you have time to twist a real ankle". Sansa would have rolled her eyes at him were she not such a proper lady. In fact, she would have also stuck out her tongue childishly at him for being so cheeky with a lady of her station, but she held herself back from such antics.

"Help me up?" She tilted her head at him curiously. He grabbed her about the waist with the gravest of expressions, as if this was a task he had to grit his teeth to accomplish. Sansa noticed that his incredibly large hands could practically span her waist, and felt very vulnerable in his grasp. He hoisted her up with easy maneuverance, and let her go once he saw she wouldn't topple over.

" Do you think you could help me with the foot straps? They seem to have loosened a little and are too far for me to reach." Sandor did roll his eyes at her, but made no complaints as he walked over to her leg and tightened the stirrups. He did the same for the other one, and Sansa said, "Thank you." He looked up at her and paused.

"You're welcome." He seemed surprised she had thanked him, as if he was not one to receive thanks very often. Sansa made a mental note to do so more often.

He turned to go to his own horse, which had wandered a bit and was eating some grass. Once he was all settled they set out on a trot back the way they had come earlier that day.

The silence was, surprisingly companionable. Sansa would have never guessed that she would feel comfortable in the presence of the Hound, but she did. She didn't know if it was because he wasn't calling her names, or being horrible like usual. But this felt like the silence you could settle into with a book, and just be for a while. The sunshine at their backs was warm, and riding seemed infinitely more tolerable without Joffrey leading the way. In fact, she might go so far as to say it was even pleasurable to ride with Sandor. He didn't go too fast or make any sneering remarks about how she rode side saddle like a lady. He didn't seem in any hurry to get back to the castle. She wondered if, when they got back, he had to ride all the way back to Joffrey's side again because he was the Hound and that's where he always is. Sansa began to wonder if she was horribly inconveniencing the man in her little escape plan. She wondered what he even did on his leisure time away from guarding the King anyway. Perhaps he spent it thinking about better ways to guard the King. Sansa giggled to herself at that earning her a glance from the very man she was pondering about. She shook her head at him with a smile as if to say, 'Not telling yooou'.

She began to think more seriously about his life just then. Why doesn't he have children? Was he ever married? Did they die? Does he even want a wife? What did he do before becoming the Hound? What were his parents like? Does he still hate his brother for what he did to his face? Such questions floated through her mind, but she felt like asking any of them would be entirely inappropriate and unwanted from her.

"Girl you've been staring at me for ten minutes. What have you got to say?" Startled, Sansa gave a little jump as she didn't even realize he was aware of her staring.

"How did you know I was even looking at you? You're faced the opposite way!"

Sandor gave her a bitter smirk. "A man like me grows accustomed to stares. I can feel em a mile away."

She crinkled her brows at that, not quite sure what to say. "But surely a person can't….feel stares. That's impossible."

"Some said direwolves were a myth, and you're family had a pack of them just the same did they not? Things in this world are never impossible."

Sansa pondered over those words for a while. The pain of losing Lady pierced through her as she remembered her loss, but the profound statement he just made seemed to resonate within her. It was strange to hear such words come from him, usually so cynical and mocking.

"So have I assuaged whatever it was that plagued your mind or are you still going to stare at me like a gaping gazelle?"

Sansa spluttered with indignation. "I do not gape. A lady does not gape, ser. And I will most certainly not share with you my thoughts. And if it pleases I shall not look at you again." She made a show of turning her head away and not looking in his direction.

Sandor startled her once again by throwing his head, full tilt back, and letting out a hearty laugh. He laughed and laughed at her. Sansa wished she knew what was so funny, but then again it was probably something unkind so she thought she was better off anyway.

"Oh you are a lady little bird after all. You've just lied to the King, committing a form of treason might I add, and you sit up there pretty as can be talking about 'A lady does this. A lady does not do that.' You know there is no such thing as a lady right? A true lady?"

"W-what do you mean?" Sansa was thoroughly confused and wished they could go back to that companionable silence they shared earlier.

Sandor looked at her as if she was stupid. "All women, ladies," He said the word with disdain, crinkling his half scarred nose, "have something that's not very lady-like bout them. Take that little sister of yours, she's technically a lady, but I've never seen a person so desperate to get out of a dress and into some breeches in my life."

Sansa replied back haughtily, "Well that's Arya she was never born a lady, and never will be one. There are plenty of other ladies."

Sandor sniffed at her. "Alright, you're mum then. Oh she appears to be a perfect lady on the outside, but I'd bet my wages her hands aren't entirely clean. She seems she-wolf enough to cut a man down where he stands."

Sansa frowned at him. "My mother wouldn't…..she's the Lady of Winterfell."

Sandor retorted back with, "And as the Lady of Winterfell does she not wish to protect her pups? No matter the cost? You think she's just sitting idly by while you're here in King's Landing? From what I hear she's with your brother Rob and is acting as his advisor in the war. And there's nothing bloodier than a war Little Bird."

Sansa was growing increasingly displeased with the way this conversation had turned. "That's different. The circumstances are different. She can't be held accountable for that."

Sandor was growing more heated in his arguments as well, making Sansa shrink into her mare. "Oh, so because it's a war a Lady can go out and slaughter anyone she pleases? Or are you referring to the fact that she's not actually doing the killing? Because advising on it is so much better."

Sansa didn't have anything to say to that. Suddenly she really missed her brother Rob and her mother. She wanted to go home and never leave their embraces.

"Listen Little Bird, you've got to understand that pure ladies with flowers in their hair and goodness in their hearts don't exist. There are people who survive, and those that don't. That's all."

A small, bitter smile formed on her lips as she said, "Oh, and ladies can't survive is that it?"

Sandor looked at her, taking in her withdrawn expression and said, "Not in this world they don't."

"What if they have someone to protect them?"

Sandor was quiet for a moment. Sansa wondered if she truly had stumped him or if he just didn't care for her conversation anymore. Either way she felt much better. She realized they had finally reached their destination when the forest was behind them and they were trotting across a field of grass that stretched out to the main gates. Sansa was relieved; she had had quite enough riding for several weeks.

"It all depends if they have the right person to protect them."

Sansa was startled for the third time by Sandor. She forgot what they had been talking about, but it seemed he had been thinking about it all this time. Searching back in her memory she pulled out the conversation, and realizing that she had sort of won the argument she let a brilliant smile stretch across her face.

Sandor seemed startled at her, which only made her smile wider, for he seemed to widen his eyes and just stare at her. Deciding on being cheeky Sansa trotted ahead of him and tossed her hair, turning her head and saying, "Well then let's go. I've got a twisted ankle that needs looking after. And ladies need to be protected after all."

Wellp that's it! I hope you liked it and if you did please review and tell me so! If you didn't I'd also appreciate a little heads up on what you found dissatisfying.

Kay thanks! :3