Sickness of the Mind (Hound and Abigail)

Abigail couldn't quite believe how well things had been going for herself lately, she had managed to get through the time at Kings Landing very well when she thought about it. She hadn't offended anyone and she had managed to heal and save umpteen people's lives - in her former life that was something that she could have never done and it gave her a feeling of power that she had never experienced before.

Of course it added to her good karma and therefore her luck kept on going.

There was one aspect that hadn't gone too well and that was the romance front, she had been hoping to attract a male to her while she was here however there hadn't been any offers. Maybe she was just too strange for the people of Kings Landing?

Disappointing though, she was getting seriously worked up and something about doing it yourself just didn't seem...right. Considering how many people would help you with it for a small amount of coin, but then again, there were probably untold diseases on them.

As she sat in her private bed chambers, Abigail thought over her time here, and a few males in particular as her eyes drooped softly. Her thoughts had been wandering from her work the later it got and now it was completely forgotten - abandoned to her sleep and her hazy daydreams of quick witted funny men, and stoic strong men.

Once more her head nodded forwards starting her from sleep.

Sometimes The Hound was really at a loss as to what was wrong with the young King. He was probably touched in the head to be honest. Maesters throughout the kingdoms had assured the King and Queen that the boy was the picture of health. Of course they were always well paid by the Queen but Sandor had though that was merely to avoid awkward questions about how scrawny the child was when compared to other teens.

But then, the stupid blonde did things like what he had done a few hours ago and now he had a mostly dead whore slung over one shoulder and a crying, wailing, and bloodied one being dragged along by the hand.

His King had ordered the living one to take the almost dead one to the Hand of the King. Apparently he thought this present of whores was some kind of insidious trick... or he was just that fucked up in the head. Either way... it was not his place to comment or choose a side.

It was his place to obey.

Kicking the door open to Abigail's chambers, the wailing of the injured woman and the hacking, bloody, cough of the dying one would have alerted her to their presence but Sandor was not the kind to take chances in his duty,

"WALLIS!" he roared for her as he threw off the contents of a table and set the dying whore on it before marching to close the door, "There's work to be done here woman... these whores will need your brand of miracle."

Abigail gave a little scream when the door was kicked open, the sudden noise made her jump out of her chair and she looked around wildly her head still fuzzy from the sleep she had just been entering. Now however she realised that she needed to get to work and she was just happy that she hadn't actually gotten undressed for bed yet - the Hound was in her bedroom.

How exciting.

Although now that should be the furthest thing from her mind she couldn't help herself thinking it for a split second.

Dashing into her main living area where she had set up her workspaces, Abigail opened her mouth in shock and staggered back a little bit when she saw the poor states of the women who had been brought to her. Honestly she wasn't sure she could save one of them but she was going to give it her best shot.

"Oh my god." she whispered softly, hurrying towards the worst off whore "What happened to these poor women! Of course I will try my best to heal them both immediately."

Swiftly Abigail looked over the woman on the table and she smiled very gently, she was still conscious and so she needed to tell her what she was doing;

"You're alright now, I'm a maester here and I'm just going to examine you honey okay?" she asked softly "You might feel a little more pain when I press down but don't worry, I'm going to give you something for that now."

As she worked, Abigail took out a vial of potent medicine rather similar to morphine but much stronger because it was purer. Only giving half of a little pot to the woman was enough. She was happily out of it for the time being sleeping away. Things didn't look good. Biting her lip Abigail pinched the bridge of her nose as her hand gently skated over her limbs and torso to assess the damage.

"Not good...not good." she whispered softly "Whoever did this has crushed many bones, I can't reset them. I can amputate but...there's internal bleeding, in this bruising here, an organ has probably ruptured. I...I can't...I can't save her." Abigail concluded, her voice soft and almost far away - as if the conclusion was confusing to her.

The Hound sighed a little bit as he stepped outside the room in time to catch one of the Eunich's "little birds" and slam the man's head against the wall, knocking him out. He did not want it to get out that he had brought the whores here before The Hand's Quarters. The King would see it as a treason even if it was based merely on technicality.

He waved a hand and the injured whore, who opened her mouth to explain, fell silent. The Hound look Abigail in the eyes,

"The King had informed me that they fell down some stairs." he told her with a meaningful look, "And that these... stairs... can be slippy. For anyone."

He paused before scowling,

"Message over." he spat on the ground, "The King prefers to have his whore beat each other than lick each other's cunts. Main difference between him and the last king really."

When Abigail went on about whoever had done this had crushed many bones the injured whore wailed louder and louder, screaming that she hadn't wanted to do it. That they King had made her do it and she would have died otherwise.

Upon hearing that she couldn't save the woman, The Hound grunted and pushed the injured one forwards,

"Deal with this one then." he muttered as he drew his knife, "I'll deal with the other... no use prolonging suffering."

Abigail couldn't stop her hands from shaking very slightly when she attempted to work on the other woman, seeing as there was no way that she was going to be able to save the one currently on the table. It didn't seem like this lady had it so badly, there was definately nothing broken she just seemed to be in a little bit of hysteria. She had something for that she could give her before she left, it wouldn't do to have her in distress about this when she could be focusing on getting better.

Unable to believe her ears when she heard that the King had them beat each other up she looked at the woman that she had been tending with sheer horror and she bit her lip trying to stop the insults from streaming out at the King.

"Oh my poor lady." she gasped "Please don't worry yourself one bit, I have something that will calm your nerves down, your wounds are not deep and mainly just bruises. I'll apply some salve that will clean and soothe them before you leave."

Bustling over to her drawers, Abigail took out the things that she would need and proceeded to gently rub on the salve with the ladies consent. Plipping two drops of a clear liquid into some water she held it out to the whore who was still shaking very much; "This will help calm your nerves down. I shall give you the rest of the bottle, you should take two drops in water twice a day and your nerves should be kept calm."

"Sandor, no." Abigail gasped softly, gently placing her hand on his wrist "Please there's no need for that. I'll put her to sleep, no blood, just a peaceful painless death. It's what she deserves after what...what he put her through."

The Hound was feeling increasingly out of place here but he knew he had to stand between Abigail and the door otherwise the foolish woman would do something stupid that would likely end with her laying down in front of the King's Guard. He sighed a little bit when it was revealed that the King was the one who had caused all of this.

But then again... was there ever really any doubt in her mind?

Not only were the two whore brutalised (Geoffrey's preferred method of ruling) but it had been the king's 'loyal' Hound who had brought them to the healer. He wasn't a smart man but even he would be able to draw the correct conclusion from that.

"Give her some wine as well to help with the nerves." he muttered, handing over a skin of wine he always kept on him, giving it to the whore, "You will need if... wounds such as yours linger rather painfully. Trust me. I know."

He sighed a little bit, the dagger next to the whore's next but even then she seemed to not notice. All she was doing was blubbering over and over again about how it hurt. He paused before ramming his dagger home... back in it's sheath,

"Give it to her then."

Abigail couldn't help but look at Sandor and how he spoke of his own long lasting wounds and she wanted to wrap him up and hug him tightly - but she didn't no matter how high the temptation. Perhaps he wouldn't appreciate it and again they did have other things to be getting on with for the time being.

Watching as the lady drunk the water she had given her, Abigail knew that it would only be a few minutes before the medicine started to kick in and so she decided that she could be left for a moment or so while she tended to the last few moments of this other womans life. It was...hard for her. Extremely hard, but she believed it a better method than what had been on the table.

Getting the other half of the vial, Abigail bit her lip and drew it into a clean needle.

"I've never killed anyone before, I don't suppose this will be my last death either. At least I'm a kinder executioner than any else out there." she hummed gently.

As she placed her hand on the woman's she squeezed softly;

"Did she have a name?" upon hearing it from the other whore, Abigail nodded her head and she tenderly injected the rest of the vial, laying the needle aside when she was finished "To the Lord Almighty above we ask that you take pity on your servant Astrella, forgive her her trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Bless her soul and let it be guided into the light of Heaven. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen."

Closing the eyes of the woman, Abigail took in a deep breath and hugged her arms around her chest.

The Hound watched as she prepared to put the young whore down like a pig to the slaughter. He paused for a moment when she spoke about how she was going to have to become an executioner and that she would be the kindest there was. He paused at the thought before shaking his head. He disagreed with her there but she would have her delusions.

Until she had truly killed she would know nothing.

"You will kill this woman and you will still know nothing of killing or execution." he told her with a faraway look in his eyes, "You are killing a dying woman and so take nothing of value. You are no executioner... executioners kill men and women when they could otherwise live."

The Hound paused as he listened to Abigail give the woman some kind of light rites in the eyes of her gods. Or, in this case, God. He listened and he frowned slightly,

"That the word of your God?" he asked with a frown, "I did not know you were a believer in the mysteries of the divine."

He paused before looking down at the dead whore,

"May the old gods and the new gods take you from this place of death and turmoil and take you to the halls of everlasting wine and fertility."

Abigail blinked a little bit at Sandor and she couldn't disagree with what he said, she didn't think she could fight anyone it wasn't in her nature unless she was provoked and in which case she would because it would be needed. This woman needed to be put to sleep because there was no way she could live, to continue to put her through suffering was something that Abigail wasn't going to do, it was cruel.

"You're right." she stated with a soft smile, looking up at Sandor with glistening eyes, the flames of her candles dancing in her iris' "In which case, I think I'll leave the executing to the people who have the temperament for it, myself not being included upon those ranks."

With a little laugh Abigail shook her head;

"I believe in no Gods, I'm still waiting for proof that there are Gods in this world. When death is upon someone, there are two influences they want by their side, their mothers and God's. I hoped that it would give her some comfort as she went to sleep." she stated with a slightly sad chuckle "Stupid I know."

Looking up at The Hound Abigail couldn't help but think that he wasn't the most godly of people, perhaps he wasn't as hard and unfeeling as he would have everyone believe.

"What shall you do now?"

The Hound knew that Abigail would never have what it took for war and battle. She would never be able to take a life in anger no matter what she said here and now. He looked at her and all he saw was a softness that did not match his hardened shell. She was soft where he was solid. Water, where he was stone.

"You should." he agreed and leant in closer to add, "I am a member of those ranks after all... you would not last and would more than likely take your own life the first time the nightmares come for you. And not a single man who's been to battle would see it as anything less than complete and total sense."

He smirked a little bit,

"Believing in no gods is the smartest thing you've said since I walked in through that door." he teased her a little bit before humming, "And usually they cry for their mothers first... always on the battlefield. You hear them before, during and after the battle. And it's always for their mothers. No one else."

He paused before grabbing the dead whore and roughly slinging her onto his shoulder,

"My job. You... other whore, come with me." he demanded before opening the door with one hand, "We're going to the chambers of the Lord Hand."

Abigail couldn't help the soft blush that crept onto her pale cheeks when Sandor leant in closer to her, it was that voice of his again. That voice was doing rather unhealthy things to her and she should learn to keep that in check, she didn't want him to notice...well...not unless he was going to do something about it then he could notice all he liked!

"You're right again." she laughed happily "I don't have what it takes, I have enough nightmares as it is without adding more to them. You are very strong, to be able to withstand all of that pain that must have come...unless you never felt it at all which is, stranger still."

Grinning cheekily Abigail poked her small tongue out between her lips slightly when he teased her. She had never been on a battle field before, so she wouldn't know about what men screamed for, but it was good to know that she had been right. Mothers and Gods, they were the things we turned to when the hour was dark.

"If there were Gods, half the things that happened in the world wouldn't have happened. They wouldn't have let it. At least the God from my homeland wouldn't have, which is why he can't be real." she smirked.

The rough way that the poor dead girl was handled almost made her flinch but she didn't, instead she followed behind the troupe and as he turned to ask her why she was also coming Abigail was quick to retort;

"I want to make sure something gets done, I'm here to heal the royal family, not to put his newest playthings to sleep."

The Hound was going to do his duty. He hated every step he took as he was carrying a dead whore and half-dragging an injured one along with him. Sighing a little bit, he turned back to Abigail when she spoke about what her duties were before the king and the rest of the royal family. She had been here long enough to know the truth,

"Wallis you are the royal healer." he told her simply before shaking his head, "It's a token position. You're here because you're good at what you do and the King, nor the Queen, will never let you go from this. You are as much a prisoner as little Sansa Starrk... and you will do as the King desires because he desires it."

He sighed as he turned back round to continue walking,

"And what the King desires more than all else is blood. Pray to those Gods you don't believe in that it isn't yours."

He knocked on the door and Bronn, The Imp's minion, opened the door. Both Bronn and The Imp were surprised when The Hound tossed the dead whore onto the Imp's table, scattering books everywhere,

"The King sends word that he has received your name day gift... and found it lacking."

Tyrian looked at the dead whore for a moment, flabbergasted before forcing himself to joke,

"Wh-what? He only likes blondes or something?"

Abigail was a little stung by the harshness of Sandor.

Not only had he not taken note of her blush and tried to do something about it, but he had hurt her with his words that she was trapped here in this castle. She didn't much care about that, there wasn't any way for her to get home because she didn't know how she ended up here in the first place - she would be trapped wherever she went.

"I'd be trapped wherever I went Hound, at least I can do some good here, save some lives, leave behind recipes for medicines that work to save more after I'm dead. What good are you doing? What will you leave behind when you die, a trail of blood, broken families?" she asked with a small frown "I can speak cruel words too."

Unable to comprehend the anger she felt at Tyrion's response Abigail almost raged at him without censorship but she caught herself and took in a deep breath to try and calm herself. Biting her lip she thought carefully about what she was going to say - she didn't want to offend the Lannister when she was just starting to do so well.

"You think this is funny my Lord?" she asked, her eyes glistening with disbelief "I had to put this poor girl to sleep, her bones were crushed and her organs pulped - the pain would have been unimaginable. What do you plan to do about it? If word gets out about this the people will further grow the hate in their hearts for His Grace."

Sandor was not known for his kindness and that was because he simply wasn't used to being kind and right now was no exception. He had not been a kind person and he both expected and accepted that people would see him as some kind of monster.

Sighing a little bit when even the kindness of the truth sounded like a bitter insult and attack to Abigail, he looked down at her from his towering height. So she thought she would throw things back at him did she? He shrugged,

"But unlike you I am trapped to that fate because of my own actions. I only seek to warn you of the dangers you face." he told her with a small frown, "The dangers you will face here and no doubt in other places. I can't make ugly truths pretty, only men like the Imp and Little Finger can do that and I'm not one of them."

Even Sandor thought that what the Imp had said was harsh.

Tyrian turned to Abigail, the healer, with a small frown before humming a little bit as he looked down at the dead whore. He touched the shoulder gingerly,

"Strange... she's still warm." he muttered to himself before looking up at her, "Plan? This was the result of a plan - to give Geoffrey some less violent and barbarous outlets. Namely vaginas! What do you wish for me to say to the people young healer? How do I dress up that the King likes to beat whores to death? Especially after he has recently cut their food supplies again... the people want the heads of his entire court on a platter. This... might just be the thing that send them charging through our doors. Unless... it remains within our doors."

Abigail sighed softly and rubbed at her eyes, this was what people got for waking her up at all hours of the morning to euthanatise people and talk politics. She wasn't in the mood for this, she was in the mood for going back to bed and either sleeping or having some fun, either or. She didn't mean to be this cranky with The Hound but, somehow the words had slipped out of her mouth without her giving them much thought.

"I know what dangers I face Sandor, I might be innocent and kindly my hands not tarnished with the blood of others but, I'm no fool." she stated with a slight smile on her lips "No you can't, if I was less tired I suppose I would like it better that way, no cryptic meanings to figure out."

The fact that this had been a plan to try and get Geoffrey to become less violent spoke volumes about the boy as King, he was going to have a short harsh rule and she hoped that it would be coming to an end as soon as possible with all these other people vying for position of King. No-one could be worse than him.

"Note I didn't say we SHOULD tell anyone, my Lord. I asked what you would plan to do if someone saw Sandor carrying around a dead girl and a beaten lady and decided to blab about it. In fact what I was hoping you would suggest was something to help this poor woman while she recovers, I severely doubt she will be able to work thusly she will have no income coming in to feed herself and pay her employer."

Folding her arms under her chest Abigail hugged herself tightly, and noted that when she looked out of the corner of her eye at Bronn he was looking at her rather intently. Or well...one part of her very intently. It made her flush softly, but she didn't put her arms down, she was rather enjoying the attention.

The Hound growled a little bit at Bronn when the sell-sword moved closer to Abigail to get a better look at her chest. He hated that man with a passion and he would love nothing more than to see his sword sticking out of the man's throat. But not today. Today there were other things to discuss and they were more important.

He patted Abigail on the shoulder,

"I shall have a sword and a 'dancing' instructor sent to your chambers once every week." he told her quietly, "Here a healer must defender herself or else..."

"Am I interrupting something?" Tyrian cut in, annoyed that they seemed to be having their own little chat going on, "I mean we're only here discussing how to avoid all of us having our heads mounted on spikes by angry peasants or an equally anger boy-king."

There was a pregnant pause there that was only broken by The Hound discretely hitting Bronn in the balls behind Abigail's back. Bronn grunted in pain and everyone turned to look at him. He scowled,

"Er... clap?"

Tyrian groaned,

"By the gods... okay look." he pointed to Sandor, "The Hound was seen walking around with a dead whore and a beaten one. That happened. No hiding that... but everyone knows that The Hound is a man of violence. A beast, some say."

The Hound blinked,

"You want me to take the fall for the King... because you know the peasants expect it of me?"

Abigail looked up at Sandor when he growled and she resisted the urge to gasp, wow, she wanted to hear that sound again! She bit her lip and didn't pay it too much attention because she didn't want him to know that she had enjoyed it, why would she embarrass herself even further? It was clear that he didn't like her in that manner so, she would have to move on - for her quick fix that was.

The offer, made her heart flutter softly and her lips moved into a graceful smile; "Thank you Sandor, that...that's so kind of you to think about my safety." she whispered softly.

Raising an eyebrow at Tyrion, she sighed softly. Once again she wasn't in the mood for the finer points of politics within Kings Landing. She wanted to go to bed, and sleep off her unused sexual energy. Despite what Tyrion said her head would be going on no spike, she treated the peasants illnesses, for free, they loved her. They did not however love everyone else.

The noise of pain from Bronn made her brow furrow in concern, of course when she heard what it was she rolled her eyes and almost banged her head against the wall. Was it SO HARD to just find someone to have sex with her? Gods sake.

"I have something for that, you don't know how many times people have come to me for medicine for that." she grinned, taking a small vial out of her pocket, it had about twenty pills in "Here, take one twice a day until they're gone then it'll be fully out of your uhm...system."

Unable to support this Abigail shook her head and looked up at Sandor; "We can't let that happen! What if Sandor gets punished for it later down the line, it's unfair to place the blame on his head when all he's done is his duty." she stated firmly "So there must be another way, maybe nobody will even mention it? Maybe the King wont make an issue of it because he knows it was him, and doesn't want to draw attention to it?"

Sandor sighed a little bit. Tyrian was eyeing him up like a piece of meat and Bronn had that insufferably smug smirk on his face. He knew that even if he denied it the blame would be placed on him. He knew that at the end of the day it would be his word against that of the Hand of the King and the head of the Gold Cloaks. The word of a violent man that he had not committed violence against the word of a Lord deemed second in power only to the king.

He placed a hand on Abigail's shoulder and squeezed gently,

"Let's go little bird." he told her quietly, "Let's go find you a dancing instructor... because all that is discussed here is done. I will take the fall... no matter what happens."

He led Abigail from Tyrian's quarters with a small smile that wasn't actually painted on,

"Besides... if Geoffrey tries to punish me too badly I can always reveal some secrets." he admitted as they walked back to her quarters, "Did you know he wet the bed until he was eight summers old?"

He snorted a little bit,

"And if he wants to try physical punishment I can see all his favourite torturers and executioners running for the hills." he paused before adding, "I'll be fine but thanks for the concern back there."

Abigail opened her mouth in disbelief and she shook her head;

"But...but it's wrong!" she protested "You haven't..."

It seemed as if her arguments weren't going to be listened to and finally she was beginning to be inducted into the politics of this horrible place. She wanted to leave right away and this didn't even have anything to do with her - one of her only friends was going to have to be punished for something he didn't do. The hand on his shoulder comforted her slightly and Abigail looked up to Sandor with hurt and confusion swimming in her eyes.

"But..." she started again, but when she saw the look on the others faces she sighed "Fine, if that is what you all decide then I shall back you, and keep what we discussed here secret, I promise."

Abigail felt her heart grow heavy and she wanted to hug Sandor to her to comfort him, even though he didn't look like he needed comforting at all. He seemed to be comforting her like she was the one in need of it.

"You're welcome, I don't want you to get hurt for something you didn't do Sandor. You're my only real friend here that I trust completely...I guess I get protective." she stated, sticking her tongue out playfully.

Not moving his hand from her shoulder, liking the fact they were close to each other, Abigail sighed and yawned, rubbing her eyes;

"Do we have to find a dance instructor right now? I'm so tired..." she muttered sleepily.

The Hound laughed a little bit, sounding more like his namesake with such a barking laugh that it might have scared small children. Shaking his head a little bit, he looked at her with an amused expression,

"Having a hound as a friend is not deemed acceptable for a lady." he teased her a little bit before nodding a little bit, "But they do make the most loyal of friends. Against peasants or kings, a Hound will protect what is his."

He smirked,

"I get protective too."

Raising an eyebrow at the way she suddenly seemed to be so tired again he smirked slightly and picked her up, putting her up on his shoulder to carry her back to her rooms,

"Oh? And what if I were to teach you in this dance?" he teased her as they entered her chambers. He closed them with a foot and set her down in front of him so their faces were inches apart, "There are two dances I know very well and can instruct you in. One is bloody... the other tends to be more fun."