Hips Before Hands

“Wait!” She heard her own plea ,surprising even herself with the outburst. He turned the horse around, dismounted and approached her slowly. “What is it Litt… Your Grace?” “Where do you plan to go?” “East maybe. West? I’ll figure it out when I get there. Maybe I’ll follow after that sister of yours.” “Don’t.” The plea came softly “Don’t what?” She hung her head. He reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her face to meet his.  “Don’t WHAT?” Her body went rigid. Realization hit her, she was a Queen now.  She seemed to grow a foot taller, her back straight as his sword. She looked him in the eye. “Don’t leave me again.” For a moment she thought she saw him soften but he turned around. “Won’t be staying in this shit city another moment, Girl. You going to come with me this time?” “No.” She snarled through gritted teeth. She grabbed the neck of his tunic and pulled him close.

OFFICIAL TYPING by Charity / The Mod

Functional Order: Fe-Ni-Se-Ti

Judging Functional Axis:

Extroverted Feeling (Fe) / Introverted Thinking (Ti)

Daenerys in the first season easily makes her feelings known to her brother about being sold as a wife to Khal Drogo, but then goes on to prove her willingness to bond with the Dothraki society by committing to all the traditions of their people, eating the horse heart, and adopting their verbal traditions (“the stallion that will ride the wind”). She is an advocate for the poor and marginalized, championing the rights of women and rescuing them from rape, gathering her forces from primarily slave nations, and liberating the Unsullied along the way. But as Dany grows more powerful, she becomes more ruthless. She demands everyone accept and acknowledge her as the true queen of the Iron Throne and gives no quarter to her enemies, enacting harsh punishments (crucifixions, feeding people to her dragons, having them burned alive to set an example to others) if they do not. She makes attempts in later seasons to forge bonds with Sansa Stark. Dany’s main problem is her extremely poor logical skills – she uses Jorah and then Tyrion to help her make rational decisions, but most of the time, ignores them in favor of her own choices – which SPOILERS wind up getting one of her dragons killed, and the Dothraki decimated. She is often sidetracked from her goals by her feelings of empathy or love (she halts her forward progress and stalls out in Quarth, because she has torn down the slave-founded nation, but has no logical ideas about how to replace it; she comes to the north to fight the White Walkers with Jon out of romantic devotion to him). She’s almost incapable of questioning her own motives (inferior Ti).

Perceiving Functional Axis:

Introverted Intuition (Ni) / Extroverted Sensing (Se)

Dany had much better Ni in the earlier seasons, where she felt a mystical pull to the dragon eggs. She knew to put them into the fire so they would hatch without being told. From that, she adopted the symbolic role of the Dragon Mother. She made the connection between her inability to get burned and her being the one true ruler of the Iron Throne. Dany is so devoted to her vision of what she wants for her future, she tries to force other distractions into it – reasoning that her liberation of the slaves, the Unsullied, and the Dothraki will help her gain the throne. When Tyrion points out the low odds of her success, she sneers at his suggestion that she find “another dream.” But her Se is her weak point. Dany has knee-jerk, violent reactions to everything. She abandons her intuition and trusts a witch to heal her husband, because it’s an immediate fix. She tends to liberate cities to help their people (Fe/Se) without a larger plan for their future, or stopping to think about the greater social and economical impact. She enlists one of her handmaidens to teach her how to seduce (and therefore manipulate) Drogo. Once she sees potential in the Unsullied army, Dany betrays the slave owners and burns their city to the ground. She eats horse hearts, engages in black magic, threatens people much larger than herself, engages in sexual pleasures, and walks through fire. But the Battle at Winterfell proves her poor ability to adapt to a quick-moving environment – Dany is so caught up in trying to handle her emotions, she fails to notice a horde descending upon her dragon. She loses another dragon in an earlier episode to a reckless battle north of the wall. She prefers to stay distant from the action rather than engage.

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Values: cunning, resourcefulness, and ambition.

Dany wants what is hers by birth, the Iron Throne, and will allow no one to stand in her way. She starts out agreeable but determined, but with each increase of power, becomes a more intolerant, brutal ruler determined to eradicate anyone who does not accept her as queen. She charms and persuades her husband into the idea of taking the Dothraki across the sea on her behalf, she sees potential in the slave armies and the Unsullied, and she increasingly refuses to listen to council.

Enneagram: 6w7 so/sp

Tritype: 621 The Supporter [6w7 2w3 1w2]

Sansa x Sandor Season 8 fix it a/u:

Sensing his distress from afar, Sansa wargs into Sandor and holds his emotional turmoil at bay, allowing him to sucessfully defeat Gregor. Afterward, she guides him to take Arya and escape Drogon's destruction of King's Landing.

While on the road, Arya teaches Sandor about warging and skin changing and wonders if Sansa accidentallywarged into Sandor during the Hand's Tourney, leading him to protect Loras.

Arya reunites with Gendry and Nymeria, whose wolf pack leads them North.

The group returns to Winterfell in time to celebrate Sansa's coronation. Arya tells Sansa: "All of those years ago, you said that you knew the Hound would win. But you never said how you knew it."

This will probably be obvious to many, but oh well. Lately I’ve been talking to a few people who take “the Hound” at face value. That is, he tells you he’s honest and that he likes to kill, therefore he’s exactly the sort of mindless brute he tells you he is. Because a liar would never say that he’s honest, right?

So, okay, he says he’s honest, and it’s a big part of the persona he puts on. The loyal, brutally-honest, brutal-in-general hound. I believe that he believes he’s honest, but if you look at his words versus his actions, it doesn’t hold up. These are some of his most iconic statements from the books:

Killing is the sweetest thing there is.

If you can’t protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can.

A hound will die for you, but never lie to you.

Killing is the sweetest thing there is.

“No, it gives me joy to kill people.” His mouth twitched. “Wrinkle up your face all you like, but spare me this false piety. You were a high lord’s get. Don’t tell me Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell never killed a man.”

“That was his duty. He never liked it.”

“Is that what he told you?” Clegane laughed again. “Your father lied. Killing is the sweetest thing there is.” He drew his longsword. “Here’s your truth. Your precious father found that out on Baelor’s steps. Lord of Winterfell, Hand of the King, Warden of the North, the mighty Eddard Stark, of a line eight thousand years old … but Ilyn Payne’s blade went through his neck all the same, didn’t it? Do you remember the dance he did when his head came off his shoulders?”

And here is a list of all the times the Hound kills people in the books. He’s never shown to do it for fun, even when he can get away with it, and he avoids doing it where it’s not necessary. If killing is the sweetest thing there is, why doesn’t he do it more often? Left to his own devices in the Riverlands, he earns his keep as a lumberjack, not a sellsword or a highwayman.

If you can’t protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can.

“All?” he mocked. “Tell me, little bird, what kind of god makes a monster like the Imp, or a halfwit like Lady Tanda’s daughter? If there are gods, they made sheep so wolves could eat mutton, and they made the weak for the strong to play with.”

“True knights protect the weak.”

He snorted. “There are no true knights, no more than there are gods. If you can’t protect yourself, die and get out of the way of those who can. Sharp steel and strong arms rule this world, don’t ever believe any different.”

For someone who believes this, Sandor spends way too much time trying to save people he doesn’t have to save:

Ser Loras, at the Tourney of the Hand

Sansa, when she’s being beaten in the throne room

Sansa, during the bread riots

Sansa, at KL in general. His speeches about the cruel ways of the world are his way of trying to teach her to keep herself safe.

Melee champion, on Joff’s nameday

Ser Dontos, on Joff’s nameday

Arya, at the Red Wedding. TBF she is his meal ticket at this point, but there must be easier ways for him to earn money than riding alone into a battle where both sides would try to kill him.

Arya, in general in the riverlands. Even after it’s clear he ain’t getting that ransom money anytime soon.

Nobody ordered him to do any of that; he chose to. Weird how he keeps all these weaklings around when they are just in his way.

A hound will die for you, but never lie to you.

“I like dogs better than knights. My father’s father was kennelmaster at the Rock. One autumn year, Lord Tytos came between a lioness and her prey. The lioness didn’t give a shit that she was Lannister’s own sigil. Bitch tore into my lord’s horse and would have done for my lord too, but my grandfather came up with the hounds. Three of his dogs died running her off. My grandfather lost a leg, so Lannister paid him for it with lands and a towerhouse, and took his son to squire. The three dogs on our banner are the three that died, in the yellow of autumn grass. A hound will die for you, but never lie to you. And he’ll look you straight in the face.” He cupped her under the jaw, raising her chin, his fingers pinching her painfully. “And that’s more than little birds can do, isn’t it? I never got my song.”

Aside from the previous two ‘lies’, there are actually several times in the books when Sandor lies, either outright or by omission. Some of these are a bit iffy, since we can’t see what he’s actually thinking, but others are prety blatant:

He lets people believe he got his scars in battle, even though he’s pissed that his father lied about how he was burned. People have even asked him about it; whatever he told them, he didn’t dispel the notion he got them while fighting.

On the battlements at KL, he “forgets” about having mocked Sansa’s dead brother to protect her feelings

On Joff’s nameday he makes up some peasant shit to help save Ser Dontos.

He covers for Sansa when she lies to Boros Blount about praying in the godswood. He literally tells her he knows she’s lying, then backs her up two minutes later, then gives the “hound will never lie” quote.

To Sansa: “If you scream I’ll kill you. Believe that.” Sure dude. Actually the Hound often makes threats he can’t or won’t follow through on, like threatening Arya in the Riverlands for being annoying, when he’s relying on her for a ransom.

In the inn an the crossroads (with Arya), he starts laughing when Polliver tells him that Arya has married the Bolton bastard, but won’t say why.

And a bonus little birdy chirp

He had been the champion in her father’s tourney, Sansa remembered. “Will you joust today, my lord?” she asked him.

Clegane’s voice was thick with contempt. “Wouldn’t be worth the bother of arming myself. This is a tournament of gnats.”

…

The master of revels bowed, but Prince Tommen was not so obedient. “I’m supposed to ride against the straw man.”

…

“We’re children,” Myrcella declared haughtily. “We’re supposed to be childish.”

The Hound laughed. “She has you there.”

Joffrey was beaten. “Very well. Even my brother couldn’t tilt any worse than these others. Master, bring out the quintain, Tommen wants to be a gnat.”

…

Tommen got his pony up to a brisk trot, waved his sword vigorously, and struck the knight’s shield a solid blow as he went by. The quintain spun, the padded mace flying around to give the prince a mighty whack in the back of his head. Tommen spilled from the saddle, his new armor rattling like a bag of old pots as he hit the ground. His sword went flying, his pony cantered away across the bailey, and a great gale of derision went up. King Joffrey laughed longest and loudest of all.

…

“You should help him up and tell him how well he rode.” Sansa could not seem to stop herself.

“He got knocked off his horse and fell in the dirt,” the king pointed out. “That’s not riding well.”

“Look,” the Hound interrupted. “The boy has courage. He’s going to try again.”

They were helping Prince Tommen mount his pony. If only Tommen were the elder instead of Joffrey, Sansa thought. I wouldn’t mind marrying Tommen.

These notes were found amongst the scrolls and notes of the famous master Sixmus of Citadel; a historian, a thinker and a collector. They were written with his usual bold script and filed among the many peculiar and interesting stories he had made notes of, titled as “A Wolf Father”

And so Winterfell of the North rose again.

On the third year of the false winter, just before the dawn of the new spring, a large congregation from the Vale travelled across the land to reach the North. They were led by Lady Sansa of the old and proud House Stark. The ‘Disturbances on the Wall’ had just ended and the people were left leaderless, but her arrival signified the start of a new dawn. The rebuilding of Winterfell was initiated and people of the North toiled side by side with wildlings, who toiled next to the folk from the Vale.

From thereon Lady Sansa - pale and beautiful with her fair skin, deep blue Tully eyes and rich auburn hair - was everywhere overseeing the works, tirelessly and diligently attending to her duties. She never let go of her responsibilities, not even when young lord Rickon returned and was anointed as the next Lord Stark.

And wherever Lady Sansa went, a tall warrior with a hideously scarred face followed. The Hound he used to be called, although in Winterfell he was known as Sandor Clegane. His reputation was that of a deserter and a godless man who had turned his back on his king and on his brothers at the Quiet Isle, and many muttered that it was only a matter of time before he would turn his back on the North as well. Yet his lady’s trust in him never wavered. Where one was, the other was never far away. Lady Sansa’s maids revealed that sometimes the man stayed in her solar even after the matters of the day had been dealt with and the maids had prepared their lady’s chambers for the night.

Idle tongues wagged at first as they are wont to do, but not a soul could believe that anything more than strange ties of allegiance bound those two together; the lady so fair and graceful, so kind and gentle, and the man so ugly and coarse, so brutal and rough. And so people grew accustomed to the sight of the beauty and the beast side by side, even after Winterfell stood tall again, strong and proud as Bran the Builder had it made.

When a few years later Lady Sansa gave birth to a bastard son, dark of hair and grey of eye, and announced that his sire was a wolf – in the same vein as all the babes of Alysane Mormont from the Bear Island had been fathered by a bear - nobody gainsaid her. Although whispers that a hound rather than a wolf was responsible were uttered, the babe was as much loved by the folk of Winterfell as his mother, and so were all the other babes later born to the fair Lady Sansa.  

Hey all, so this is my first Game of Thrones fic that i’ve written in several years (I mostly write Tolkien/rdr2 stuff) but after the latest season my GoT obsession and Sandor Clegane obsession has returned and so I wrote this - the first of many Sandor-centric I’m sure!

Pairing: Sandor x fem! reader  I  Warnings: Smut - 18+/some aggressive/derogatory/threatening language  I  Word Count: 4,241

Summary: Before the white walkers reach Winterfell, the reader confronts Sandor about their feelings and confesses their deepest desire and what they ‘truly want’.  It’s mostly pwp - but I tried to make it somewhat romantic and fluffy as well as smutty! 

Your confidence and unwitting approach to the men that looked at you with such downcast eyes was in your stride as you marched into the hall. 

You’d heard men say they could smell fear and always thought it such rubbish, how could one smell fear, fear was a feeling something maybe animals with another sense could smell but not humans. Only now you knew it was true. Fear stank of piss and shit, it stank of stale beer and mud and rotting flesh. In the midst of the fear there was only one thing you wanted.

You scanned the room and saw him sat at a table drinking wine with Beric and a few of the others.

When you sat it was without a word, the others moved up for you accordingly for you needed no introduction. In a way you hated that and envied others who had no title or name gained through fame. 

The moment you sat down you heard the familiar sloshing of wine into a cup, looking up Sandor’s eyes met your own as he poured you a generous goblet. 

Before you could speak Beric’s hand clapped on your shoulder, “We make a fine crew.”