The Oracle - Part 6 - Sandor x Reader

800 25 2
                                    

Sandor made his way from the room. The Hound half in awe, half in disbelief. He had seen things he could not believe, yet desperately wanted to believe. Things that he had never really known he had wanted. But now that he had been shown what could be, he wanted it more than anything he had ever wanted before.

He had seen a wife, children. A home that was his own and a feeling of happiness that he had never thought could be possible. All he had believed before this moment, was that he would continue to live, and then die by the sword. His future nothing more than to end up a rotting corpse on a battlefield somewhere. The crows picking out his eyes as the local smallfolk stripped his body of anything of value. His name forgotten. His face becoming nothing more than one of the many. His body left to rot where it lay. Yet now, now there could possibly be another life. Another ending for him. A future where his line could carry on. Where, when he did die, he would be grieved for by loved ones. His name remembered as he was given a decent and proper burial. And all he had to do, was believe and trust in (Y/n). And how could he not? She had known things that she could not possibly know about his childhood, about his father. About how he had come to be scared and what could have happened if Gregor hadn't been pulled from him.

Then she had kissed him. Her finger gently ghosting over his scared visage, before they had slowly found their way up into his hair. Sandor had been kissed many times before, yet each of those kisses had come at a price. The woman's lips only meeting his if he could afford to pay for her attention. Yet this kiss was real. He could feel it. He could tell the difference in how her lips moved, that there was passion and love behind their touch. And as he had wrapped his arms around her, as she moved ever closer, he knew that he could do nothing else other than believe in her.

(Y/n) had told him that her time had come to be made whole. To know what it was to be loved. That what he had seen in his vision was what she had been shown for some time, yet up until now she had had no idea how it could possibly be. She had asked him to return later that night, when Varys and the others were not around. Asked if he would be the one to love her. To help fulfil her destiny. And he had given her the only answer that he could. The only answer that he wanted to. And that was, yes.

"Well?" Varys asked. Shaking the big man from his thoughts. Sandor huffing as he saw the smug grin on Bronn's face.

"Aye. I'll protect er. I'll take tha night watch over er. I have ta get back ta tha little shit. But when he dismisses me, I'll be back." Sandor informed the Master of Whispers and the two other men, before storming back through the Keep. The Hound hoping that if he remained his usual self, then the others would never know what his night vigil would entail.

"Well, whatever she showed him, certainly didn't make him any cheerier, did it?" Bronn chuckled as he turned his gaze from the disappearing man, to the door behind which (Y/n) sat.

"I'll stay ere. You two figure out how ta keep her away from Joffrey. Me and Sandor will do tha rest." Bronn continued, as he dragged a chair to in front of the door and took a seat. Varys not really sure that he liked the idea of leaving the disreputable sellsword in charge of (Y/n). But knew that if she trusted him, then the only thing he could do, was do the same.

                                                              >>-----------------------------<<

Sandor made his way back though the Keep. His hands filled with a platter of food for (Y/n). The day had dragged, and even though Joffrey had continued to be his usual petulant and spoilt self, boasting to all those around him, that the famous Oracle of the Gods was now the Oracle of the King, Sandor had been able to ignore him. His mind too filled with what she had shown him. His thoughts going over what was to come. He needed, no, wanted to be gentle. Wanted to show that this was as important to him, as the night would be to her. That he actually believed that what she had shown him would come true. That one day, he would find himself in that little home with her by his side and his child growing in her belly.

"Ya can go now." Sandor grumbled, as he looked down at Bronn. The sellswords chair leaning back up against the against the door jamb as he picked at his teeth with the blade of his dagger.

"Fa me? Ya shouldn't have." Bronn chuckled as he looked at the tray in Sandor's hands.

"Ain't fa you. Now, ya can go." Sandor replied. Bronn dropping his chair back down, before Sandor could kick it out from under him.

"Fine. Be like that." Bronn sniffed. Rising to his feet and grinning at the big man, as he walked past him.

"Have fun." The sellsword called out. Sandor choosing to ignore him as he pushed his way into the room. His eyes instantly falling on (Y/n) as she sat next to the fire that Bronn had lit for her.

"Hello, Sandor." (Y/n) said softly. A sweet smile gracing her lips as she heard the big man move around the room. Sandor placing the tray on a small table next to the bed before moving over to the fire.

"I'm so glad that you came back." (Y/n) added, as she held out her hand for Sandor to take. The big man taking it and kneeling by her side.

"Are ya sure that ya want this, (Y/n)? I ain't most decent women's idea of tha perfect man." Sandor asked, as he gripped her hand tighter.

"I have known that this moment was to come. I have been shown things about you since the moment I was old enough to understand. In a way, I have no choice, not that I would change my fate, even if I could. I have waited a long time for you, Sandor. No other oracle before me has been given such a gift. Their role was to be nothing more than a vessel for the gods. Their life ending when the gods willed it, only for another babe to take their place." (Y/n) began to explain, as she moved slightly uncomfortably in her seat.

"I can understand that this may be difficult for you to understand. And that you may not think of me in that way. I am sure that you have had many a woman in your life. That a blind girl that had never felt the kiss of the sun on her flesh, nor knows anything of the outside world, may repulse you. That I would not be any man's first choice. And if you do not wish the life that you saw, I would not blame you. I.........." (Y/n) continued, only stopping as she felt Sandor's large rough hand, gently began to caress her neck.

Sandor felt that he needed to explain things to the younger woman that was moaning softly as his fingers drifted down to ghost over the top of her breasts. He felt as though he should say that he had no idea what it was to truly love or be loved in return. That the only female companionship had been whatever he could afford. But deep down he knew that he couldn't. He didn't want to spoil what was to come. He didn't want to sully her with ideas of brothels and whores. She wanted to be with him. Not because of the gold in his pocket, but because she had been waiting for him. She had been told that she was his, and he was hers. It didn't matter that he didn't believe in the gods. What mattered, was that she believed, and she also believed in him.

"Repulsive? Me find ya repulsive?" Sandor replied, finding himself chuckling at the notion that (Y/n) may think that he would find her anything less than what she was. Completely exquisite. The big man carefully helping (Y/n) to her feet. His large hand leading her over to the bed, before he slowly sat her down and pushed her back onto the mattress.

"I think ya have ta be tha most beautiful thing that I have ever seen. And I also think that it's high time that I showed ya how much I believe in ya." Sandor continued with a soft growl. (Y/n) shuddering as she felt his body move over hers. His hand move carefully up under her skirts. 

Game of Thrones  Imagines Book TwoWhere stories live. Discover now