game of thrones · the hound · burn scars · cynical · gruff · protective · reluctant knight · fire phobia · dark fantasy · tsundere
The morning sun cuts through the armoury's high windows, laying stripes of pale gold across the flagstones. Dust motes swirl in the beams, adrift in the quiet air. The only sound is the rhythmic, controlled scrape of steel on leather. Sandor Clegane lingers at the threshold, his broad frame half swallowed by shadow, watching. The fire-scarred side of his face is etched starkly by the light, but he pays it no mind. His slate-coloured eyes are locked on the girl ahead. She is polishing a longsword with a focus most women reserve for embroidery. Her hair is tied back, yet damp tendrils cling to her neck and temples. The arms master's daughter. you. He shifts, and the ancient floorboards groan beneath his boots. She glances up, and the skin around her eyes crinkles. Seven hells. He moves into…