Flaming Hells (Hound and Abigail)

If there was one thing that Sandor Cagane hated more than anything else it was fire. Fire was the one thing that he knew he was afraid of and he hated the idea of ever being afraid again. He had been afraid for so long before and he hated the idea that he would go back to being afraid.

And he hated that the flames represented a further chance to burn in agony.

After seeing the very water of fire, and seeing that most of the men he'd charged out with were now dead, The Hound called a retreat back inside of the gate. Groaning in annoyance as the gate was slammed shut, he grunted when he realised he had an arrow in his shoulder.

How annoying.

He moved over to where Abigail was fixing up patients with as many volunteers as she had managed to round up. Since it was a siege there were hundred of wounded and almost as many healers too. He grunted,

"Wallis." he called over to her as he sat down and grabbed a sack of wine, "I thought you and your healers were told to be back at the palace... gods know we'll need you more though."

Abigail had been non stop busy trying to heal as many people as possible and train the volunteers how to help her, they were quite good if she did say so herself and those with minor injuries such as stabs and arrow wounds were seen to almost immediately. Cleaned up, disinfected, sewed back together and bandaged before being shipped out again to fight later on if they needed to be.

There were more serious cases coming in now though.

The fire burns were painful and ranged from the large to the small, she took on the larger ones herself and left the newer healers to deal with the small trifles that stung a little too much to hold a weapon without treatment. One man had come in and the entire left half of his body had been engulfed in flames.

Her thoughts went to Sandor, who was out in that fire and she wondered if he was afraid. He had never told her how his face came to be like that but she could guess, and fire seemed to be the only cause.

As soon as she heard his voice she turned and jogged over to him;

"You're hurt." she gasped, her eyes glistening with shock "Here, let me help you."

Gently she snapped the arrow in half and pulled it from his shoulder as carefully as she could. It came out clean and that was good, she would be able to heal the wound swiftly as there were no large splinters left inside.

"We were summoned here as soon as the attackers landed on the shore. King Geoffrey wanted the men to be healed as swiftly as possible to be sent back out to fight." she murmured, before her fingers deftly undid his armour on the shoulder "How did this happen, hm? Does it hurt?" Abigail asked, her eyes betrayed her worry.

The Hound had to admit that he didn't much like being back here with the healers when half of the men and boys in this little tented area were half melted away due to either regular fire of wildfire. Neither of which was forgiving and the wildfire had been activated behind the walls in small doses as accidents tended to happen.

He blinked and looked at the arrow in his shoulder,

"Barely stings." he told her with a shrug, "It's more annoying how it fucks with my range of movement... can you remove it?"

He grimaced slightly as she took the arrow out and looked down at where it had penetrated his armour. He tutted a little bit at realising he'd likely have to repair it pretty sharpish. Of course it would be Geoffrey,

"More likely the Brat King wants you close by in case someone makes a move towards him and he has to be dragged away due to 'medical emergency'." he muttered before shrugging, "One of the bastards got me with an arrow... I got him with my sword. Sword beats arrow."

He frowned,

"You shouldn't be this close to the wall, we're losing badly here."

Abigail couldn't stop the smile that graced her lips when she heard the bravado in Sandor's speech, it was strange the way that they would be so close in the bedroom and not close at all in public but she supposed that was the best way. It was exciting to her now she had gotten used to it although it used to bother her badly after they had first slept together.

"Of course I can remove it." she smirked, waving the broken feathered half of the arrow in the air "It's something even the worst of my volunteers can do."

Shaking her head with a little chuckle she thought that it was amusing the way that Sandor mocked the King, it was strange she had always thought that he was some sort of appointed knight but in actuality he was a hired sellsword to guard Geoffrey. That meant that surely he could be hired by someone else.

"There are no weapons there that can reach him to cause a medical emergency." Abigail commented with a small smirk "Your strength is beyond any man's Clegane, but don't become too cocky, that is how mistakes are made. Arrow can beat sword if its shot in the right place."

He was worried about her, at least she hoped he was. Smiling gently she placed her finger on his lips;

"I have my place to be, just as you have your place to be. Neither of them are especially safe but, we can't do much about that."

Covering his wound with a clean cloth soaked in disinfectant Abigail bound more cloth around his shoulder to hold it in place before doing his armour back up. Now he was ready to go back out there again, she didn't know if she wanted him to but she didn't have a choice. This atmosphere is where Sandor thrived, what he enjoyed doing, she wouldn't take him from that.

The Hound chuckled a little bit at the joke she had made after she had removed the arrow from his shoulder. He sighed a little bit and gave her a look before smirking slightly,

"I meant remove it without leaving a scar." He teased, "I think only you can do that, most of these women wouldn't be able to hold the arrow steady, let alone pull it out without causing further damage to my shoulder."

Geoffrey did seem to want to avoid the worst parts of the battle and that was fine. That was to be expected of a smart king to be fair. But to be honest the King wasn't even near the best of the fighting, he was just hiding up on the walls and letting all of his men do the fighting for him. He shook his head slightly,

"Geoffrey will lose us this battle but thankfully Tyrion is far from an idiot." he admitted before shaking his head a little bit, "They've got a big enough target and they still don't work, I think I win there don't you?"

He sighed a little bit as he spotted Geoffrey marching over,

"Here we go..."

"Dog!" He shouted, near panic, "I demand to know why you retreated inside the walls! Our enemy is at our gates!"

The Hound shrugged a little bit,

"And if you had kept me and my men outside you'd just see us die outside."

Geoffrey went red in the face before turning to Abigail,

"What are you doing?" he demanded, "Your my personal healer! Don't be touching these ignorant peasants!"

Abigail couldn't help but flush slightly at the praise that Sandor was giving her, she was happy that he was getting to know her skills and would comment on them. It made it all worth while, the hours she had put into practicing and developing her skills. The people here needed more help than she had ever seen people back home needing. Her meagre skills in wound healing working as a pharmacist was put to the test over and over again but it was down to an art now.

"Well thank you, a compliment falling from your lips is a rare thing. I'll make sure to note it down in my diary." she smirked softly.

There was a silent worry that one day there would be an archer that would hit in the right place and Sandor wouldn't be expecting it. She loved him, she didn't know if he loved her and nor would she ask him but...if she was taken from her she didn't know what she would do. Perhaps for the first time in her life she had honestly prayed to God and hoped he was there.

"All it takes is one good archer on a bad day for you." she stated with a soft frown "Just be careful Clegane."

Geoffrey was an annoying little cretin and she and Sandor both knew it. When he was angry with him for retreating when it had been the sensible thing she almost fumed at him, but when he did in fact call Sandor a peasant she rose to her feet swiftly but calmed the rage on her face in a heartbeat.

"Your grace, it is true I am your personal healer however when I asked you if you required my assistance you rejected it. I merely wished to help your soldiers seeing as the more that we treat the more that can help secure the city." she stated with a small bow "Forgive me if I was wrong in my actions."

The Hound might not be someone who would ever have the patience needed to become a healer but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate how good a worker she was with her chosen skill. Her skill was far and above what most would consider even possible after all and her survival rate was almost as high as Sandor's own kill-rate.

That was a very high rate indeed.

"You make sure that you do Abigail because it is unlikely to be heard again." he admitted firmly before adding in a lower voice, "At least in public. Have to keep people fearing the dog's bite as well as his bark."

Archers never seemed to know what to do with The Hound, as odd as it seemed. They all seemed to think his chest looked ripe for arrows because it was such a large target. Meant that they had yet to hit anywhere dangerous enough for him to worry,

"You'd think so but I've yet to have that bad day." he admitted with a nod, "And I have you, even on my bad days Wallis."

Geoffrey scoffed a little bit,

"Just because I did not need you, does not give you leave to heal the whelps of my army." he gestured at the wounded men, "They are weak and so not fit for my world... let them die for not fighting harder!"

Abigail smiled softly when she heard that Sandor was trying to reassure her, instead she merely put a finger to his lips to tell him that he didn't need to. She didn't want him getting himself in trouble because of her, if someone knew that they were each others weakness - or more likely she was Sandor's weakness then all hell could break loose.

Besides, she didn't even know what they were. It was exciting though, trying to puzzle it out for herself in her mind when she lay awake at night the times he had not been to see her.

The possessiveness of him 'having her' although it wasn't intended in that manner made her feel warm inside. She liked that feeling. The fact that he would call her his own. Perhaps it would be something she would hear falling from his lips sometime in the future.

Geoffrey however completely ruined the mood and she couldn't help but rage at him, and let him know it this time. How could he say such a thing in front of the men who had just fought for him and through their injuries may well die for him? Tyrion had been correct in his assumption that he was a cruel and idiotic King.

"To say such a thing in front of your men your grace..." she whispered "Morale is already low enough and you state that you do not care for your soldiers enough to have them looked at by a healer and swiftly patched. It takes but ten minutes - less than in most cases."

Gripping her fist tightly she raised her eyes to meet his own;

"When I was brought here to be the healer for the Royal family your Grace, one of the conditions of this was that I could do 'whatever else you strangely dressed people do'. Healing 'whelps' and 'peasants' is what we strangely dressed people do. If this is no longer agreeable, please feel free to revert to using Grand Maester Pycelle for his healing, your grace."

The Hound could see that she wanted him to be silent when it came to reassuring her and he would accept that if it was her decision. Shrugging a little bit, he smirked slightly at her as he couldn't help but think about how much worse things would be without Abigail here to take care of the sick and the wounded.

Their loses would be huge if nothing else.

Of course then there was Geoffrey.

Geoffrey would have had this shit beaten out of him a long time ago if he was anyone other than who he was and everybody knew it other than Geoffrey it seemed. Shaking his head a little bit, The Hound listened as the King ranted and raved about how it was not acceptable that his personal healer but healing some of his soldiers.

All positive impact of his presence here was rapidly decreasing.

"I don't care what the men feel like!" he groused, "All I care about is that they take their swords and they fight for me and my city! Gods damn them all if they don't get out there and kill some of Stanis' minions!"

Geoffrey purpled in colour,

"That was under my father!" he growled in a weak attempt to look dangerous, "Listen you whore!"

Sandor growled loudly and Geoffrey jumped back as Sandor slowly drew his sword and began to sharpen it, all the while looking right into Geoffrey's eyes. The brat kid went to say something before storming off towards the castle. Sandor spat on the ground,

"Ignorant bastard..." he glanced at Abigail, "You alright?"

Abigail's heart hammered in her chest over and over when she heard that what she had said had annoyed Geoffrey, she thought that she could have kept a tighter check on what she said but she needed him to know that the way he was speaking was unacceptable and that he needed to get himself in check. Morale was now completely shot to shards as all the men who had been healed by her and her volunteers were murderously looking at the King.

The insults were something she was expecting and she was used to if she was honest, the Lannister family wasn't the kindest of people and they were used to getting their own way. When they didn't get it they could get quite nasty.

Sandor's anger made her eyes widen slightly and she bit her lip, the growl was warning and she was enjoying the protection that he was silently giving her. Hopefully the King would get the message that she was doing what was best for the people here, and that if he had his way they would be rioting in the streets again in no time.

"I'm...I'm fine." she whispered softly, her hands shaking a little bit "I should get back to those soldiers, good luck Sandor. Be safe." Abigail implored softly, holding his hands in her own, squeezing them softly before returning to the men she was supposed to be healing.

***

The battle was over and won.

With the help of the Lannister and Tully army Kings Landing was safe and she was happy to be in her rooms alive and well with her two children sleeping in the room just off from her living room. They each had their own room, with a seperate door, that all lead into the main living area. Despite loving her children dearly she did need her own space.

Sandor was due to be here any minute now and she gently disrobed herself until she was dressed in her new basque, which was dark purple silk covered in black lace in the shape of flowers. It had suspenders attached so that she could wear her stockings and she even slipped into a large pair of heels that would push her ass up and make her legs look longer. Wrapping herself in her black silk robe which dusted the tops of her thighs she sat by her dresser placing some ointment on her bruises.

It had been a hell of a long night, and her raging insecurities about Sandor and her were burring in her brain. She needed to lose herself, and the best way to do that was with her Hound.

Sandor had wanted to grab Geoffrey and wring his little neck for insulting Abigail but she had told him to let it go... so he did. It was strange to know that he was doing what she commanded without actually being asked but she wanted him to be quiet about it and not go off half cocked and he could tell that rather easily.

He sighed a little bit and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze,

"Be careful here Abigail." he told her, passing her a dagger, "And when careful isn't enough... be ruthless and be deadly. I will return for you."

**

The battle was over.

The Lannister and the Tyrells had broken the siege at the last possible minute, literally just before the invaders crashed through the gates and the remainder of the defending forces. Sandor had been there in the thick of it, cutting and hacking through as many men as he could. It was he who had stood by the Hand of the King to protect the half-man who seemed to have inherited a warrior's spirit if nothing else.

Sandor opened the door to Abigail's chambers and paused when he noticed that she was dressed in such a revealing set of clothes. He swallowed thickly. He himself had just bathed and so was dressed only in a light tunic and trousers. He slowly slid his shirt off over his head as he moved closer to her, wrapping a possessive arm around her from behind,

"Mine..." he whispered before looking at her in the mirror of the dresser, "You seem to be very well dressed I must say..."

Abigail couldn't help but shiver softly when she heard that husky voice whispering into her ear, proclaiming her as his own. It was now in the hour of the Wolf that she was with Sandor in the way that they both wanted - there was nobody here to listen in on them and they could be with each other physically and emotionally.

It hadn't happened much yet, the emotional aspect but she had every hope that Sandor would eventually open up to her with his whole self. She already trusted him with all of her being but, she had always trusted far too easily he had said.

"Yours?" she asked with a small smirk tugging her lips "When did we ever agree upon that Sandor?" Abigail teased as she stood and turned to properly embrace him.

Her eyes flicked over his body, his strong arms and chest covered in black curled hair. Allowing her fingers to trace up his arms, she poured her feather light touch over his body until she reached his shoulders - the first wound that he had was the one that she herself had healed and it looked neat and clean. More like a small cut than anything else. The others were old scars that she gently bent and kissed, passing her tongue over the longer ones from sword and dagger slashes.

"You're safe." she whispered softly, moving back to remain distant and teasing "I was worried about you, so worried. I'm glad you back here, safe with me."

Sitting down on the edge of her bed Abigail smiled gently at him, hoping he had been worried about her too.

Sandor leant in close after his whisper and let his breath tickle her neck for a few seconds before he began to kiss up and down the sensitive part of her. The skin around wherever he kissed seemed to goosebump and he would tell that she was enjoying the way that he was lavishing attention on her like this.

And why shouldn't he?

She was his.

He growled low in his throat when she made a joke about never agreeing to be his. To him it was undeniable and he would not have her attempting to deny it now. He nibbled at her earlobe rather hotly,

"I decided it." he growled low, "And you know you love that too much to deny it..."

He glanced down at her when she seemed to focus on the wound that the arrow had made. It was a small wound because it had been mostly stopped by the armour to be honest. Not that he didn't appreciate her aid then and he certainly appreciated the way she was looking at him right now. He licked his lips a little bit as she began to tease his old war wounds with licks and kisses,

"I am safe." he told her as he took steps to remain the same distance apart from her, wrapping his arms around her waist, "I wasn't going anywhere."

He pushed her so that he was over her as she laid down on the sheets. Pausing, Sandor spoke softly,

"I wanted to come back to you... maybe the Seven do exist to grant such prayers."

Abigail gasped softly when he nibbled on her earlobe, his breath hot on her skin made her shiver in happiness and she enjoyed the delightful sensation that it sent through her body. She did love being his but she wanted to be his in a way that everyone else would find acceptable not in their own little way - they could easily be torn apart as they were now but if they were joined together properly they could stand united.

She didn't want to push Sandor though, he might lose interest in her altogether because he hadn't even said that he loved her yet...marriage would be the furthest thing from his mind. With his lifestyle as well she supposed he could hardly have a wife. It wasn't the most stable of profession.

"Well maybe I decide that I'm a free woman, and I'm not yours." she purred softly "What if I say that I do deny it...what then?" she asked teasingly, her lips kissing up his neck, sucking softly just behind his ear to give him a little burst of pleasure.

The sensation of his warm large hands on her body made her shiver again and she wanted him to keep them on her, to caress her and make all of her worries fall away from her. Smiling gently up at him when she was pushed back onto the bed, Abigail looked up at Sandor and she thought that she was one of the luckiest women in Westeros. Maybe he was loyal to her, like a dog was loyal to his master? Maybe he hadn't been to a whore house since he met her? That was what she liked to think she didn't know if it was true.

"I thought this was the man who told me not believing in Gods was one of the smartest things I've said to date." she teased, before she reached up and kissed him passionately on the lips, her hand cupping his cheek as she hopefully guided him so that he was on his back, and she was straddling his hips. They had never really been in this position before, and it was a favourite "But I too...was praying to my God. Perhaps there is something to this whole faith lark."

Allowing her nose to gently run up his chest to nuzzle underneath his chin, Abigail placed kisses along his jawbone to his earlobe which she gently sucked and nibbled on.

Sandor knew that he was having an effect on Abigail and it was most definitely the desired effect. He smirked a little bit to himself as she gasped and her breathing became slightly heavier with the desire that was mounting within her. He knew that she was his and she knew it too. And they both knew... that when it came down to it that it didn't matter.

In the end they both knew that he was as much hers as she was his.

"Free woman or not, you are mine to have. You are my woman." he insisted with a light growl to his voice, "What then? Then I call you a liar little Abigail..."

His hands began to roam across the front of her body, stroking her smooth stomach before reaching up to gently play with her breasts.

She wanted him to touch her more.

He could tell by the way her body arched for his touch and he could feel it in the way that she shivered so delightfully whenever his hands moved across her breasts or her smooth stomach. Licking his lips a little bit, he drank in the sight of her sexy little body with greedy pleasure that he reserved for no one else,

"Sometimes a man has to realise that the gifts in his life are too great to have come from men and so must have come from gods." he told her before squeezing her breasts lightly, "Or from just one woman."

When she guided him so that she was on top of him he raised an eyebrow. This was new it had to be said. He smirked a little bit,

"Faith in some people... faith in you..."

Unable to stop a little giggle when Sandor called her a liar if she kept on protesting that she wasn't his, she knew that she wanted the touch of no other. It was strange. He wasn't the person she had thought she would end up spending her life with, she was beyond happy with Sandor though, she was deeply in love and that was all that she had ever wanted in her life. It was quite telling, perhaps he was the reason she came here?

"I yield then my sweet Hound, I yield." she purred "I'm all yours, to do whatever you please with. Just as you are all mine, to do whatever I please with...and I have an idea of what I want to do..."

The tender touches to her breasts and stomach made Abigail gasp in pleasure and she worked her hips against Sandor's grinding herself up against him in her pleasure - she wanted to make him hard so that she could give him something she had been saving. He'd not asked for it, but, perhaps he didn't think it an option.

"We have faith in each other, that is all that we need." Abigail agreed inbetween a flurry of soft kisses to his lips, to his cheek bones and his jaw bone "We can be our own Gods, and in that vein, I have a very special way in which to worship you in store."

Deftly Abigail undid the ties to his pants and smirked when she saw that he was indeed hard. Teasingly she kissed down his chest, her tongue gently licking at his skin, his scars until she reached his hips. Very softly her lips kissed his upper thighs, teasing him with sucks and kisses until she thought that he could take no more. Eventually she placed a kiss on his cock, before allowing her tongue to lick all the way up the length of it.

"Sandor..." she murmured sensually, locking eyes with him before her lips wrapped around his cock and she softly sucked at his head, her tongue languidly passing over the head again and again as she sucked happily away at him. Delving a little deeper, her hands went to his strong thighs and she caressed them.

Sandor growled happily when she yielded to him, even though such a gesture was simply that. A gesture. It was something that she already knew was true and having her reassert it did nothing but remind her of something that she already knew and could not deny loving every second of. He himself loved it almost equally as much.

He loved it more.

"You are wise young Abigail." he teased her slightly, "I think I can let you have your little idea before I take command of you... show me your special way of yielding."

When she peppered him with kisses he did his best to do the same to her but it soon became clear that she was doing something with her lips and her kisses. She was building up to something he just knew it and it was likely going to be everything he needed,

"I have faith that this surprise will be well worth all the hype that you are giving it too." he teased with a smirk, "Now show me my faith is well founded goddess."

She was kissing down his body one moment and then the next...

"Abigail..." He moaned breathlessly, "Gods yes..."

With one hand on the back of her head he encouraged her to take his full length into her hot, wet and worshipping tongue. She was amazing, every second making him shudder with pleasure as he used his hand on her head to encourage her to bob faster on him,

"By the old gods... and the new..."

Abigail looked up at Sandor as she was on her knees on the floor in front of him, his face in pleasure was amazing and she wanted to make him make that face as many times as she could tonight. When they were fucking she couldn't get a look too clearly at him because she was in pleasure herself and too busy enjoying that. Now she could learn the subtleties of his body and enjoy them all the more.

The sensation of his hand on the back of her head encouraged her to take more into her mouth, locking eyes with him she sunk down inch by inch onto his cock her tongue not stopping its licks as she did so. Eventually she paused, adjusting to the feeling of her mouth being so full and Abigail began to suck harder at the base of his cock before she slid all the way back up to the head to tease him with feather soft licks and tender sucks, getting rougher again as she slid back down to the base.

Unable to stop a little moan as she felt him pulsing under her attention Abigail wanted him to talk more, his words were making her slick and she put even more effort into his pleasure, continuing her sucking but doing so much faster than before. She wanted to keep Sandor pleasured, to make him finish inside of her mouth to show that she was the only woman that he needed, and the only woman that he should ever want.