Chapter Text
In all honesty, Sandor wasn't exactly sure how it had gotten this far. In the beginning, it was just to appease Joffrey. The little jackass had met the girl on a dating site but once they'd exchanged phone numbers, he got bored. Still, he wanted to work with the girl. See if he could flatter her enough so she'd send him nude pics. Which is why he used a burner phone when he talked to girls like that. Just in case Cersei checked his phone she would continue thinking he wasn't an outright pig. The thing was, he hadn't actually wanted to put in any work at all. No. He delegated that task to Sandor.
"Sweeten her up for me, dog." he'd said when he tossed Sandor the phone. "Let's see if the carpet matches the drapes, if you know what I mean."
Of course Sandor knew what he meant. He wasn't fucking stupid, although that was a stupid thing to say. It wasn't like he was some slick motherfucker, either. He didn't know how to 'sweeten her up' at all. It's why he stuck with one night stands fueled by bad choices. No sweetening needed. Joffrey was an annoying kid, though, so Sandor took the phone as told just to shut him up. He scrolled back through their few exchanges to find out the girl in question was quite literally the single most gorgeous thing Sandor had ever seen. No wonder Joff wasn't so quick to let this one go. It only took one evening of trading texts that Sandor decided he wasn't going to play Joffrey over the phone. Any questions the girl, Sansa was her name, asked him he'd answer with his own truth instead of answering with Joffrey's. It was a subtle FU to his boss, which made him feel better anyway.
Only...over a month of texting and calling each other, Sandor found himself forgetting that it was all for Joffrey's benefit. Sansa was sweet and kind, but there was also something almost broken about her. Something sad. She never said as much, but it was in the softness of her speech and in the hollow look in her eyes in some of the pictures she sent him. He figured, what the hell? If this thing between them was making her at least a little bit happy, he wasn't going to take it from her by telling her the truth. But he also made every effort to never lie to her. He gave her himself, in all his harsh and crude and blunt reality, fully expecting her to end their talks, but she never did. She wrapped him up in a little bubble of fantasy that they were only for each other. That fantasy was only broken when she'd call him Joff, though it was fairly easy to ignore. After the first few weeks, Joffrey actually seemed to forget about her and stopped asking if there had been any 'titty pics' yet. There never was, anyway. Sandor never asked for them, and Sansa didn't really seem the type to send them anyway. She was reserved and from the few pictures she sent him, she was always modestly dressed as well. A proper little lady.
That little bubble of fantasy was burst when, after a little over a month, Joffrey seemed to recall what he'd tasked Sandor with.
"How're things going with me and the Stark bitch?" he asked one evening just before there was a planned pool party out back. The kid would likely get ripped out of his mind and Sandor was going to be busy keeping his ass out of trouble. Biting his tongue against arguing that she wasn't a bitch, Sandor shrugged.
"She still seems interested." He thought back to just the night before, at her endearingly sweet giggles at some crude joke he'd told her. How she'd been so giddy when he told her he'd adopted a dog from the local pound. He'd even let her name him, because Sandor really didn't give a shit what his name was. After turning down both Max and Florian, she'd suggested Stranger because of the big mutts black coat and mean demeanor.
"Any nudes yet?" Joffrey asked.
"No." Sandor answered simply, keeping his voice detached and bored.
"Prude bitch." he sighed. "I've never seen a ginger cunt, though. I bet she has one, and I want to see it."
Since Joff was bent over pulling his sandals on, Sandor rolled his eyes. There was just no way in any of the hells that sweet little Sansa would ever fall for this slimy bastards moves. He'd never see her cunt, that was one thing Sandor was certain of.
"Hard thing to do when she wont take nudes and lives as far away as she does." Sandor supplied, hoping to end this line of conversation soon. Worried Joffrey would tell him to end things with her. Not that he would. It just made things simpler, made him feel less sneaky, with Joffrey still wanting him to do it. Joffrey stood up quickly, a terrifyingly gleeful expression on his face that made Sandor consider the fact that his words hadn't been wise.
"That's, it dog!" he slapped Sandor's shoulder like they were good ol' buddies. "A brilliant idea. I'll have her come here. Set her up at the Red Keep Resort, take an evening to woo her in person, and then spend the rest of the week checking out that ginger bush. As pale as she is, I can just imagine how bright a well placed slap on her ass would look!"
Years of service made it possible for Sandor to keep a blank expression, though on the inside he cringed at the description. Nothing wrong with a little consensual rough play, but Sandor knew well enough that Joffrey rarely cared about consent.
"Tell her to come." he smiled at Sandor, rubbing his hands together like some cartoon villain. "Set it all up and I'll pay for her flight and the room. Mother wouldn't like to think she didn't raise a gentleman, after all. Appearances are important."
Sandor nodded, then followed a newly excited Joffrey out to the back yard where a huge crowd of people had gathered already. Nothing drew in these cunts like the promise of booze, drugs, and debauchery. There wasn't a whole lot of time that night to really think about what would happen. Too many things to worry about with the party and Joffrey's smart mouth.
It wasn't until the next day, when he had the morning and afternoon off, that he really considered what it all would mean. Sansa would say yes. That much he knew. She'd hinted about wanting to meet in person before. Things between them were good, they clicked well. He hadn't lied when he told Joffrey she was interested. Sandor might not have been skilled in the area of women, but he knew that the girl was interested. She didn't play coy or hard to get. She felt what she felt and let him know it. But that was when she thought he was a young pretty blonde boy. It was hard to imagine that someone like her would look at Sandor and see someone worth being interested in. Even aside from the scars that disfigured his face, he wasn't anywhere close to the type of guy Joffrey was. He was big and covered in tattoos, and even Cersei preferred that he didn't accompany Joffrey into the offices because he was too scary looking. His general size and choice of attire meant that most people avoided him at all costs. A girl like Sansa would just as soon cross the street so as not to pass him on the sidewalk as she was to even look at him directly.
How would things go when she came down South and realized that Joffrey was definitely not the man she thought he was? Joffrey could play at being a gentleman rather well. Sandor wasn't so sure he could just stand by and watch him play her knowing that in the end Joffrey would just as soon pass her off to his deplorable body guard than get to know her. Which was all good and well. Sandor wouldn't pretend he was some sort of saint when it came to things like that. It was just the sheer amount of bullshit and lies that went into it that bothered him. He got fucking for the sheer pleasure of fucking without wanting to form an attachment. He just was unsettled by the idea of putting in so much falsehood and deception beforehand.
Even if Sansa did give him a second glance, even if she did know the entire truth, she was hardly likely to want to continue on with him how they had been. She would likely hate him, and with every right.
Downing a couple beers, not even caring that it was before noon, Sandor went out onto the tiny little balcony of his apartment above the Braavosi bakery. Pulling out a cigarette and his phone, he lit up before tapping Sansa's name.
"Morning Joff." she answered sweetly, like she did every time. She sounded more tired than usual. Since it was a Sunday he wondered if maybe she'd stayed up too late last night and he'd woken her up.
"Morning." he took a long drag. "I wake you up?"
"No." she assured him gently. "My baby brother just woke me up early this morning is all. I'm still a little sleepy."
For a second, Sandor forgot what he had to ask her. "You still live at home?" He knew she was twenty four, so had just assumed that she lived on her own. Not that she'd ever specifically said as much.
"Um, no." she said hesitantly. "I just kept him last night. We baked cookies and he crashed after a sugar rush."
It sounded like there was more to it than that, but Sandor wasn't going to pry. He understood the dark secrets people kept to themselves. He didn't plan on telling her his so he wouldn't expect her to do it either.
"I have a question." he said, drawing hard on his cigarette and rubbing at his temple.
"Oh, yeah?" she asked with a light giggle. "What's that?"
"You ever been to Kings Landing?" he asked, working himself up to asking her outright.
"No." she said slowly. "I've only ever been as far as Riverrun. Why do you ask?"
"It's a shit city." he went on. "No getting around that. But there is some decent stretches of beach down by the bay. And if you know where to look there's some good places to get some grub."
"And you would know where to look?" she asked in a teasing tone.
"I would." he nodded even though she couldn't see. "You could come down here. Check it out for yourself."
"Are you saying you want to meet in person?" she asked with barely restrained joy and for a brief second Sandor grinned before he realized it wasn't really him that she was excited to see. It was Joffrey's pretty golden hair and perfect face and green eyes.
"You think we were just going to talk on the phone forever?" he asked instead of answering.
"I don't know." she giggled. "But I would love to. When were you thinking?"
"When could you make it?" Sansa gave him a date the next month and Sandor agreed it would work. Not that he knew for sure, but Joffrey could damn well accommodate it.
"I'm so excited!" she said happily. "Oh! But I'll need to book a flight, and find a hotel for the week. Is there any you would recommend?"
"You don't have to pay for the flight or the hotel." he assured her. "They're both taken care of."
"Are you sure?" she asked with a worried tone. "You don't have to do that. I can pay for it myself. It's really no hardship."
"Like I said, they're both taken care of. I'll get you the exact flight times when I know them for sure."
"Thank you so much. That's so kind of you." she squealed a little in joy and Sandor let himself be happy for her joy. "Oh, I'm so excited to finally meet you, Joff!"
Sandor scowled, anger washing through him at the reminder of who she was really happy about. That her joy and little to do with the man he actually was.
"Right." he sighed. "Look, I gotta go. I'll get you all the details soon."
"Alright." she paused. "Are you okay? You sound upset or something."
"I just have to go." he snapped, then tempered his anger. "I'll call you soon, okay Little Bird?"
"Okay." she agreed happily, appeased at his calmer tone and the endearment.
When they got off the phone, Sandor went back inside and fought against the urge to throw the phone as hard as he could at the wall, or maybe punch something. Instead, he did the breathing and counting techniques E.B. had taught him and calmed down. No use in getting mad. There were things in this world just not meant for the likes of him.
Things not meant for him, but were dangled just out of his reach. Like a coveted toy knight to a young boy. Or all the riches and respect that came with simply bearing the right last name. Like a pretty girl who caught his bosses eye.