Chapter Text
Sansa had been to Las Vegas once before, with all her family when she was only 12. Her father had been in meetings all day and her mother took her, Robb and Arya around to see all the sights. She remembered glitzy boutiques and eating ice cream sundaes dusted with flakes of gold. In her memory it was pleasant enough, but she was acutely aware at the time of being a child in an adult’s playground.
Ten years later she was very much looking forward to going back. Her father was already there for business and had invited Sansa and her younger sister Arya to join him for a few weeks. She was planning on doing some serious shopping and partying, and a few of her good friends were going to pop over from LA. Arya would be a bit of a drag, sure, but she could be managed. And to top it all off, the absolutely gorgeous son of one of her dad’s oldest friends and business partners would be in town.
Sansa hid a dreamy smile in the airplane window. She had met Joffrey Baratheon a few times before when she was younger, and was instantly captivated by his charming smile, light green eyes and golden curls. He was three years older than her and had been infinitely cooler when they were children. Heir to a casino dynasty, his father’s family had the renowned King’s Landing and a few smaller establishments as well, and his mother’s family owned the ritzy up and coming Lion. Sansa ran into Joffrey a month ago in New York at a gala and found him charming as ever. They went out for cocktails afterwards and had been texting off and on since.
Arya sighed and squirmed in the seat next to her. She was excited to make the trip as well, though for extremely different reasons from Sansa. Arya was 19 and itching to try out her luck at the card table. They would do some major damage together on this trip, but at least Sansa would have a serious shopping haul to show for it. Sansa looked her sister over. Arya had her long dark hair tucked unceremoniously under gigantic headphones, and wore skinny black jeans and a plaid button up shirt much too large for her. She was a heartbreaker and had no idea.
Conscious of being observed, Arya removed her headphones and turned her grey eyes to meet the brighter blue of Sansa’s. “What did I do?”
Sansa rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. I was just thinking how glad I am we’re making this trip together.” She smiled sweetly at her sister.
“Aaaand the bullshit meter is off the charts.”
“Arya that’s not nice. I really do hope we can spend some time together.”
“Mmhm.”
Sansa tried a different topic. “So when we get there we’ll go to the hotel and freshen up, and then we’ve got dinner with the Baratheons and Lannisters.”
“Yeah I know that,” Arya replied. “I’m only going because dad says I have to, but don’t worry, after that I’ll leave you alone with your new boyfriend.”
The captain saved Sansa from having to reply by announcing their descent. Sansa leaned back in her first class seat and closed her eyes, and when she opened them they had arrived.
One of their father’s men, Jory, was waiting for them at the airport. After hugs and hellos, he got their bags, Arya’s nondescript black and Sansa’s Louis Vuitton monogram print, and loaded the limo. Arya chatted with Jory and updated him on their mother and Robb. Sansa couldn't focus enough for conversation, she just had this feeling that something really incredible was about to happen. She would see Joffrey again tonight and dazzle him, there was no way he could not fall for her now, as hard as she had fallen for him years ago.
As they arrived at the Stark Hotel just off the strip Sansa was feeling like a princess. This was her night, the success of the whole trip depended on it. Their father was in the penthouse suite waiting for them.
Sansa’s cries of “daddy!” and Arya’s “hey dad!” jumbled as they both ran up to him and surrounded him with hugs.
Sansa stepped back and beamed up at him. Ned Stark was a quiet, thoughtful man and Sansa loved him with all her heart. She often clashed with her overprotective, lookalike mother, but though her father was strict, with enough pouts he would usually give in to her.
“Girls! I’m so glad you’re here safe and on time.” He looked tired, Sansa thought. “We need to leave for dinner in an hour," he looked pointedly at Sansa, "And I've got to make a few phone calls. We can catch up on the ride over.”
“Can we walk?” Sansa heard Arya ask as she headed towards the bathroom with her cosmetic case. “We’ve been sitting all day.”
Her dad agreed, and Sansa didn't argue. She would suffer through the walk in her heels if she must, though if she allowed herself to admit it, a walk back through the lights and buzz of the Vegas night sounded pleasant enough. Maybe Joffrey would walk her home.
She shimmied into a pink silk shift dress that hugged her curves and revealed a hint of cleavage while her curling iron heated up. Nothing too sexy or flashy, his parents would be there too after all. After freshening her day makeup, she added a bold red lip. She shook out her auburn waves and curled them carefully, to look perfect but like she woke up that way. Satisfied, she kissed her reflection in the mirror for good luck, leaving a lipstick mark.
The table in the private room in back of the restaurant fell silent when she arrived with her father and Arya. Sansa put on her most charming smile and surveyed the gathering as polite greetings were made all around. She had met them all before, thought it had been some years since she had seen any of the party but Joffrey. There was her father’s oldest friend and business partner Robert Baratheon. He’d put on some weight since Sansa saw him last, and he was obviously already a few drinks in. Luckily Joffrey didn't seem to take after him at all. Next to him to the left was his wife Cersei Lannister, then her twin brother Jaime. They were both extremely beautiful people, blonde with green eyes, and Sansa could only hope to look as good as Cersei when she was that age. By Jaime was the equally beautiful Joffrey; he grinned at Sansa and her heart definitely skipped a few beats.
Sansa heard nothing as the parents made small talk, distracted by Joffrey who stood and pulled out the empty chair next to his, nodding to her to come sit. She walked over, trying not to trip over her own feet or blush too furiously.
“Sansa, you’re even more beautiful than I remembered." Joffrey said. "Too bad you wouldn’t send pics like I asked,” he winked at her.
“Thank you,” she ducked her head as she lost the battle with her blush. “It’s good to see you again, you look very nice.”
He nodded at the compliment. “How was your flight?”
“It was just fine as flights go, thank you for asking.”
Joffrey turned to speak with his uncle and Sansa looked across the table. Her father sat in a chair that had been saved for him at Robert’s right hand side, and Arya was next to him, looking very put upon and fiddling with her napkin. Next to Arya and across from Sansa was Joffrey’s younger brother Tommen, a sweet boy if Sansa remembered correctly, so definitely not Arya’s type.
Her eyes continued their journey around the room until they landed on the man standing in the corner, someone she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed the second she walked into the room.
He was the biggest man she had ever seen, near seven feet tall and a solid mass of muscle, but that wasn’t what made the impression. Half his face was covered in horrible scars, from his scalp to where they disappeared under his beard. He had stringy dark hair and crazed eyes, and it was those eyes that frightened her the most when they met her own. His scowl deepened at her stare.
She flinched in her seat then looked down at her lap, and Joffrey turned at her sudden movement.
“Is everything alright, Sansa?” He quickly made the connection between her nervousness and the man in the corner who was still looking at her. He leaned in close to her, whispering conspiratorially. “Don’t worry about him, babe. He’s just my old guard dog, he won’t hurt you.” Joffrey smiled. “Unless I tell him to.”
Sansa blushed at her faux pas. “Oh no, it's fine, I’m just tired from the trip so I’m a little jumpy I guess.” She had to get another chance to make an impression on this blonde vision staring deep into her eyes with his green ones. “I’m so excited to see everything around town, it’s been too long since I was here. I was wondering if you might want to show me around?”
“Of course, sweetheart, I would love to. You know my family practically owns this city,” he swept a hand across the table. “No one could be a better guide.”
She was beaming, she had him locked in for tomorrow at least.
Dinner continued with limited activity of note. Cersei whispered with her brother Jaime, Arya teased Tommen until he cried, and Ned sat watching them all as Robert laughed and drank.
When the meal was finished, Ned stood to leave, saying he would take Robert back on his way. Arya quickly rose to go with him, but Sansa lingered, not wanting to cut short her night with Joffrey. Fortunately, Joffrey himself asked her to stay a while longer, and she said goodnight to her father and sister. They made polite conversation and he touched her hand as they each had another glass of wine. Cersei remained with them as well, watching Jaime try to cheer up Tommen across the table. Joffrey was sweet and attentive, and Sansa was falling so hard, but then after several pleasant moments he happened to check the time on his phone and it was like a switch went off.
“So sorry, babe, I have plans. I need to go." He moved to leave. "I’ll pick you up tomorrow at noon."
Sansa stood as well, still grasping for the ending to the evening she had planned out in her head. “I – We walked over here, I wouldn’t quite feel safe going back on my own.”
Joffrey smiled understandingly. “Of course, how thoughtless of me.” He turned to the looming presence still in the corner, now behind Sansa. “My dog will walk you back and see that you’re safe.”
Sansa tried to hide her disappointment. Of course she couldn’t expect Joffrey to change his plans for her. She thought of turning down the unwanted offer and saying she would just take a cab, but couldn’t risk being rude. And if Joffrey said he was ok…
“Thank you, that’s very kind.”
Joffrey took her hand. “Until tomorrow then. I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Sansa smiled at him, said goodnight to the others and headed to the door, acutely aware of her massive shadow. Once they were outside, she slowed until she was next to him and spoke.
“I hope I didn’t offend you earlier, sir.”
He snorted and his black hair shook. “Don’t call me sir. And Sansa fucking Stark caring about my feelings? I’m touched." His voice dripped sarcasm.
She ignored the colorful addition to her name. “I apologize, I don’t know what else to call you. I don’t believe I caught your name.”
“Save your breath, girl. I’m just here to make sure you stay safe for him. I saw the game you were playing, did you really think he would walk you back himself?” The giant man laughed, but Sansa didn’t understand what was funny.
She frowned and decided to try again. “Well, I really am sorry. I know you’re a friend of Joffrey’s and I hope we’ll be seeing more of each other.”
At that, he stopped and grabbed her by both shoulders, stasring her down. She was suddenly very aware that they were in a not particularly well lit stretch of sidewalk, and that she was alone with a dangerous looking man she didn’t know. His grip was almost painful and he looked at her with those crazed eyes glinting in the dark. In her fear she had dropped all her usual defenses and could only stare at his half-ruined face. She wondered what had happened to him.
“I’m not his friend," he hissed, "I’m his dog, his bodyguard and – for your delicate ears – I take care of people who misbehave. Still so sure you want to see me again?”
He took her silence as an answer and they slowly started walking again. Sansa rubbed her shoulders. She didn’t know what to make of what he said. So sometimes people needed to be – what, frightened? Killed? She supposed in a city full of people with gambling addictions and bad debts that it shouldn’t be so surprising. But did she need to be frightened? She decided she wasn't and wouldn’t be, and mentally she picked back up her weapons.
“I’d still like to know your name.”
He laughed, and it was a horrible grating sound. “Most people around here just call me the Hound.”
“Well I’m not most people.”
The large man, the Hound, laughed again though it was a different laugh this time. “Of course not, princess.” Despite the poison dripping from his tone, he yielded to her. “Sandor Clegane,” he said very quietly.
“Thank you, Mr. Clegane.”
He snorted. “Save your pretty words princess. You sound like a stupid little chirping bird, a trained parrot.”
She thought about arguing, thought about telling him she wasn’t a princess or a parrot. As she played out different comebacks in her head, they walked the rest of the way to the Stark Hotel in silence. Before they reached the door, she turned to look at him once more.
“Thank you again, for walking me back. And before you tell me to shut up, just – don’t.”
“I didn’t have much choice in the matter,” he said, not accepting her thanks. His dark eyes roamed her body, lingering on her chest and neck before coming back to rest on her face. “Be careful here,” he said, and he turned and slunk off as quietly as a man that size could, leaving Sansa confused and speechless.