Laptop is fixed! Fiction is written!
*inhale/exhale*
Oh dear gods...I've written my first short fanfiction blurb and I didn't burst into literary flames.
Sansa Stark had finally regained everything that was taken from her. She held Winterfell with the aid of a few steadfast men at arms, a dedicated, albeit small, household, and Sandor Clegane, her sworn shield. Sansa knew she was safe within her castle’s walls.
“What do you mean you’ve never played Come into my Castle? “Sansa murmured while maintaining eye contact with Sandor. Her fingers traced the Stark gray and silver stiches on his sleeve.
“Like I said, we didn’t have much use for games Little Bird with Gregor around.” Sandor grunted in reply and tugged his sleeve free.
If he heard her he doesn’t reply as he stomps to the small table by the bed and pours himself a small cup of watered wine, sniffs at it, grimaces, and then downs it in one gulp. His eyes close briefly as if he is remembering something half forgotten. She bites her lip “Do you want to play now?”
Sandor pauses as he was about to reach for more wine, “Careful girl, I’m not sure how much longer an old dog like me can resist such a tempting offer.”
“I told you I hate it when you call me girl. I’m not a girl anymore just as you aren’t a dog anymore!” Sansa could barely keep the whine out of her voice as she glares at him. Sandor chuckles and crosses the room in a few quick strides. His stops a breath distance apart from her and she can smell the watered wine on his breath and the heady mix of pine, earth, and leather. His grin pulls the craters and heavy scars tight but there’s not a cruel look in his eyes. She knows he won’t hurt her but his presence still causes her pulse to flutter like a caged bird.
“So how do we do this Little Bird? Am I the dashing knight or your captor? Are you the innocent maiden waiting for her prince to save her?” he snarls and tries to lurch away from her when she reaches out and touches his scarred cheek. He quiets at her touch but a fine current seems to ripple through his body. He might not be able to feel much, but he knows with all his being what her hand must feel like.
“If you want inside my castle’s walls, you’re wearing too much clothing” her voice trembles but still holds his gaze, “and my castle is well defended” she gestures at herself. “How do you propose we fix this problem, Little Bird?” he rumbles while lightly nuzzling against her hand still stroking his face. “What? No clever chirping anymore?” he clicks his tongue in mock dismay while removing his boots. “Is this better, milady?” Having found her voice she whispers back “it’s a start” and she begins to pull her hair loose from its coiled plait and smiles as her hair swirls around her.
“It is your turn. Remove your tunic”
Oh dear gods...I've written my first short fanfiction blurb and I didn't burst into literary flames.
Sansa Stark had finally regained everything that was taken from her. She held Winterfell with the aid of a few steadfast men at arms, a dedicated, albeit small, household, and Sandor Clegane, her sworn shield. Sansa knew she was safe within her castle’s walls.
“What do you mean you’ve never played Come into my Castle? “Sansa murmured while maintaining eye contact with Sandor. Her fingers traced the Stark gray and silver stiches on his sleeve.
“Like I said, we didn’t have much use for games Little Bird with Gregor around.” Sandor grunted in reply and tugged his sleeve free.
If he heard her he doesn’t reply as he stomps to the small table by the bed and pours himself a small cup of watered wine, sniffs at it, grimaces, and then downs it in one gulp. His eyes close briefly as if he is remembering something half forgotten. She bites her lip “Do you want to play now?”
Sandor pauses as he was about to reach for more wine, “Careful girl, I’m not sure how much longer an old dog like me can resist such a tempting offer.”
“I told you I hate it when you call me girl. I’m not a girl anymore just as you aren’t a dog anymore!” Sansa could barely keep the whine out of her voice as she glares at him. Sandor chuckles and crosses the room in a few quick strides. His stops a breath distance apart from her and she can smell the watered wine on his breath and the heady mix of pine, earth, and leather. His grin pulls the craters and heavy scars tight but there’s not a cruel look in his eyes. She knows he won’t hurt her but his presence still causes her pulse to flutter like a caged bird.
“So how do we do this Little Bird? Am I the dashing knight or your captor? Are you the innocent maiden waiting for her prince to save her?” he snarls and tries to lurch away from her when she reaches out and touches his scarred cheek. He quiets at her touch but a fine current seems to ripple through his body. He might not be able to feel much, but he knows with all his being what her hand must feel like.
“If you want inside my castle’s walls, you’re wearing too much clothing” her voice trembles but still holds his gaze, “and my castle is well defended” she gestures at herself. “How do you propose we fix this problem, Little Bird?” he rumbles while lightly nuzzling against her hand still stroking his face. “What? No clever chirping anymore?” he clicks his tongue in mock dismay while removing his boots. “Is this better, milady?” Having found her voice she whispers back “it’s a start” and she begins to pull her hair loose from its coiled plait and smiles as her hair swirls around her.
“It is your turn. Remove your tunic”