Chapter Text
The dirty common man tried to tear her hem, but suddenly his weight was lifted off her and she saw his insides turned out by the Hound. He moved lazily, picking the men one by one effortlessly, almost gracefully. Sansa tried to reach to the tall man above her, but to her horror suddenly felt hard hands grabbing her, and before she could scream the man pressed his palm on her mouth. He smelled like salt and blood. There was an unmistakeable familiarity to him. Still holding her he retreated behind two other men. His leather armor felt harsh on her bruised limbs and tears started to run on her cheeks. The Hound finished the common men and turned to Sansa.
"You are all right little bird..."
Soldiers wore peasant tunics over their armors but that was the only peasant thing about them. Sandor counted seven, all trained, armed and with a common goal. If the little bird wasn't in the middle he would have already attacked. He took a deep breath and smiled.
"Who the fuck are you? You look like a bunch of fishmongers. Let the lady go and I will not fuck you with you're own swords."
The man holding Sansa sneered.
"We let you live to tell the Lannisters that Jamie is now as good as dead!"
Relaxing, Sansa turned her head to his face and tried to say something. She knew who that impatient voice belonged to.
Sandor was perplexed. Stark hired sellswords infiltrating Kings Landing? Who were that good and how could the war exhausted young wolf afford them? Sansa stared intensly at the hooded man and tried to squirm away. He did not release her, but thightend his grip on her thighs. He nodded to the other men and they started retreating, Sansa in the middle. The Hound knew he could take the first men, but meanwhile, the rest would get away with Sansa. Sandor cursed and in his mind apologised from the poor little bird. This could go south.
"What value that little cunt had to her wolf brother is long gone! Even children in Kings Landing know the king fucked her in front of the whole court only to find out she was already spoiled! Cunt fucked hard like whores in Fleabottom!"
Sansa froze and the man cursed but did not stop. Sandor tried again,
"Took her myself a dozen times, after the king was done with her. Bitch enjoyed it too... "
Sansa would have screamed if she could. What if Robb believed the Hound? Fear burned inside her, and something else. The Hound continued,
"... like cat in heat, they could hear her moaning all the way to the stables!"
Sansa felt air thinning. The man holding Sansa cursed again and turned around to look straight at the Hound. His hood had come down. Theon Greyjoy, Sandor recognized.
The little bird was held by a man who had a reputation to have balls for brains. Sandor could see he had already felt up her hips. Lord Greyjoy held the little bird cock hard and Sandor cursed his own provocation. He looked quickly at the girl and could see the horror in her eyes and he attacked the ironborn closest to him. Lord Greyjoy grabbed the little birds auburn hair twisting her head back and held a knife at her throat. The Hound stopped, taking a few steps back, not lowering his sword.
Irritated, Theon wanted to try to kill the dog himself. But more, he did not want to let go of Sansa.
"Piss off dog, and try to remember my regards to the Lannisters!"
The ironborn and Sansa disappeared to the alleys.
"Do not make a sound Sansa!"
Theon did not look at her as he released her. Riot still roamed around them. Sansa obeyed.
"Not a sound, Sansa!"
With one move, Theon took off her pink gown and dropped it to the ground. Sansa could not help but sob quietly.
Suddenly they heard a drunken voice, a fat merchant wearing a purple velvet coat.
"Seven hells what a juicy highborn cunt! There should be plenty for all, I will give you a coin if you hold her still for..."
One of the ironborn pulled his dagger and slit the merchants throat.
Theon pulled a coarse linen peasant dress from his back and wrapped Sansa in it. Then he gave her the cloak he was wearing, tucking carefully her hair inside the hood. They heard shrieking.
"Lord, we have to go."
Theon looked Sansa in the eyes. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered, and less annoying. Maybe because she wasn't talking?
"Sansa."
"Did Robb send you? Will you take me to him?"
When Theon did not aswer she whispered hastily,
"Lord Clegane was lying of course, I swear it, I would not ever, he would not... I am not ruined!"
Theon looked at her smiling and touched a stray auburn lock at her shoulder. Sansa felt a pleasant pressure between her legs and was mesmerized by his black, long lashes. She had never realized how beautiful a man could be. She had liked feeling his hands on her hips earlier and resisted the urge to wrap her arms around him.
His dark hair glittered in the sun. Theon let his hand lower from the lock of hair to her breasts. Sansa could not help but sigh as his hand cupped her teat, fingers gently feeling her nipple.
"No, Robb did not and I will not take you to him. Sansa."
He spoke her name like it was a caress. Sansa was shaking and pressed her cheek against his leather armored chest, the man reminded her of Winterfell, he was a part of her family. He lowered his head to her neck enjoying her scent.
Theon did not touch her during the boat ride from the shore, but looked at her all the more. She tried to keep her eyes at the horizon, but could not keep eyes of his full, red lips, wondering how they would taste like. br />
Ship was small and fast, huge drapes and tiny cabins.
Sansa had still been too scared to ask anything, but once Theon took her to his cabin she dared open her mouth.
"Did your lord father send you? Are we going to the Pyke?"
"Don't mention my father, please. You are the most beatiful woman I have ever seen Sansa."
He sat her on a table, unhooded her, and kissed her hair. Slowly he opened the cloak he had given her and let it drop on the table. Sansa felt a hot rush from inside out and blushed. Theon smirked. He caressed her cheek, a touch so light that it was barely there, her nipples, followed the roundness of the teats and from hips to her thighs he suddenly pushed her thighs apart. He stood between her legs and caressed her inner thighs with deep, slow motion.
"Sansa, I can almost hear your cunt dripping honey for me..."
Sansa took a deep breath and parted her lips. Theon pressed his full lips against hers nibbling, kissing, licking her lips and tongue with his. Sansa found herself answering to the kiss willingly, eagerly asking for more. Theon placed his other hand heavy on her hips, other hand started to open the front of her peasant dress. She sighed softly, wanting to feel Theons hands cupping her bare teats. Once the front of her dress was open Theon stopped to look at her teats. Theons gaze was almost as mermerising as his thouch. Sansa lifted her hands to take off Theons shirt and caressed his chest, neck, shoulders and sides. He felt warm, firm and very much like a man, alltough smaller then The Hound, she thought Theon was more beautiful, his presence more soothing.
There was a knock at the door. Theon wrapped her back to his cloak and let the ironborn bring in food and wine. The smell of food was wonderful, she had not eaten anything that day. Still sitting on the table where Theon had placed her, he started giving her bites of meat, bread and grapes. She ate willingly and drank the wine he brought to her lips forgetting that she was never used to it. The wine made her lightheaded and her eyes wandered to the only bed in the cabin.
"Theon, who is she?"