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"Sandor," I softly called out, crawling back into his arms. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Ye just did," He grumbled tiredly, his eyes already shut and body relaxed.
Rolling my eyes at his sarcastic remark, I smacked his arm and uttered, "Smart ass."
My head, resting against his chest, moved slightly up and down as he laughed in amusement, his course laughter sounding louder than it actually was. "All right. What is it, little flower?"
A small smile toyed on my lips at the name. A name that first took root after he discovered my love for such beautiful blossoms back home in Winterfell. From then to this moment right now in his chambers at King's Landing, the name never failed to create a reaction.
Chewing my bottom lip, I lazily traced my fingers around the coarse hair on his chest as I thought of how to approach the one lingering question that had plagued my thoughts for weeks since the execution of Lord Stark. A question that made me wonder if there was anything in store for a foreigner like me outside these city walls. If my being Sansa's handmaiden was all my life was going to be.
It wasn't a terrible life, of course. I loved Sansa; she had been like a little sister to me when the Starks took me in after the death of my family. She was a sweet girl and far too pure to be the victim of Joffrey's cruel reign.
And I had Sandor, albeit only during the nights when the castle was asleep and before the sun broke into the sky. There were warm embraces, kisses shared for every moment we couldn't reach out to each other during the day, our relationship hidden securely amongst the shadows. If the wrong person learned of our relationship, someone was bound to get hurt.
It was a sacrifice worth taking, but was it going to last? Were we destined to live together in the dark, and wander alone in the light for the rest of our lives? To not stand so close to each other without having to look over our shoulders? To hide our love-
The thought of love stopped my world. After everything I lost, it had been difficult for me to accept love from others, shielding my heart from breaking all over again. But what if I was falling madly in love? Was Sandor in love too? Or was this just something to keep him busy at night, a so-called relationship to let me feel better?
"Where'd you run off to?"
His rough, raspy voice broke through my thoughts. His arm, snaked around my painted waist, squeezed me and pulled me closer to his naked body. I squeezed him in return and breathed in his scent.
Before I could shy away, I quietly asked him, "Do you think we could ever have a life outside these walls? Away from all the politics and the killing? Just... us and a little cottage on a hill in a quiet village? And perhaps a farm with chickens and goats?"
It was there. It was out there now in the open. My true feelings were out on display for him to handle, the fear creeping into my bones for each minute he laid there quietly.
And the fear was right. Sandor was silent, far too long for my liking. I mucked things up, I thought.
The embarrassment quickly settled. I tried to push away, apologizing for thinking of such an impossibility, but Sandor held me tight.
"The hell ye think yer going?" He rasped.
"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry," I quickly said, too embarrassed to look at him and scared to see what I would find.
I fought against his grip, but he held me close and lifted my chin with his other hand. Though, I avoided his gaze and looked at the wall behind him.
"Look at me," he pleaded softly, his voice calming down the storm of worry in me. I bit my bottom lip, afraid that if I opened my mouth again, I was only going to worsen this for me. But even then, I listened and very slowly gazed back at him. I could feel my heart racing the moment I saw the deep furrow of his eyebrows, the look of concern written so plainly on his features. "Why are ye apologizing?"
"Because..." I breathed out, unsure how much I could trust myself to talk anymore. "I shouldn't have said anything. It was just a stupid thought."
"What's so stupid about it?"
"What?"
In one swift movement, Sandor sat up against the headboard of his bed and pulled me onto his lap, his arms encompassing me to his person again. "We'd need a fuck ton of chickens." Was he really saying this or had I gone mad? "Also, fuck the goats. Bad enough we'll have chickens, those noisy fuckers."
My mouth parted as I grasped what he was saying, his opinion on our future echoing in my mind. This was serious, our relationship. He wanted it just as much as I wanted it. No words came out of my mouth. The realization shocked me into a state of bliss and reassurance of a future outside these walls, no fighting or killing; simply living.
A smile plastered on my lips as I pulled Sandor into a tight embrace, feeling reinvigorated. "Thank you," I whispered softly into his ear.
As we pulled away from the hug, Sandor gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and ran his thumb across my cheek. "We'll have that future one day, I promise. Can't promise ye when, but I will give it to ye."
Tears began to prick in my eyes at his determination to bring that dream to reality, however long it would take. Sandor was a big grump on the outside, but he was capable of so much love and care. He was my big grump, my mahal.
Gently caressing both sides of his face, I placed a kiss on his forehead and felt both the rigid scars and his unburnt skin. "Mahal ko."
"What's that mean?"
Grinning, I shook my head and pulled him into a kiss, distracting him long enough to forget what I called him. It was years before he learned what it meant.