Crossing Worlds (A Sandor Clegane fanfiction.)

Into the Fire

(a/n: Warnings for this chapter: STEAM at the very beginning.)

His lips were on hers again, much more fervently this time. Every time their lips reconnected, it was like a fire was ignited inside her that she couldn't extinguish, nor did she want to. His hands were tangled in her thick red curls and hers were clinging to his shoulders, trying to keep him as close as possible. He tasted of wine and it was invigorating. She couldn't get enough and the thought scared her a bit. Even so, she wanted more. She parted from him for a moment and one look told her all she needed. He wanted this too. She hungrily pressed her lips against his again and again, hands wandering everywhere as clothes were slowly shed...

Aurora  jolted awake, a deep blush painting her cheeks. That was the most vivid dream she'd ever had and of course she would have it when the subject of said dream was lying right next to her on the ground. Sandor was already awake. He turned to look at her when she shot up, his brow quirked in question. Aurora shook her head, indicating she didn't want to talk about it. How in the world was she going to be able to ride in front of him on Stranger after that dream?

When Sandor lifted her up onto Stranger's back, Aurora's skin felt like it was on fire. She quickly tried to ignore it as he climbed up behind her. "What's wrong with ya today? Yer acting odd," Sandor asked suddenly after about an hour of silence. "I-I'm fine. Didn't sleep well," she muttered. He didn't believe her, but he wasn't going to question it. He was used to himself being lost in thought, but not her. She was always jabbering on and on about something. Not today. Today she was quiet and Sandor could feel the heat radiating from her. Maybe she was sick.

Aurora sat as far in front of Sandor as she dared. Finally, Sandor couldn't take it anymore. He stopped the horse and got down, urging Aurora to do the same. "What in the Seven Hells is the matter with ya? Ya haven't said two words this mornin' and yer tryin' to avoid me like the plague. Now ya better tell me what's wrong with ya!" He got louder as he spoke and Aurora cringed a little. She hated raised voices, another fear she got from her mother's actions.

She looked up at Sandor as he glared down at her. In her eyes, he saw fear and what he thought was regret. He couldn't stop his face from falling and Aurora saw it. "Oh, no. You don't think I..." she cut off when his eyes met hers again. She shook her head. "Listen and you listen good. I do not regret what happened last night. Not one bit. But, and you better get this through your thick skull, you can't get your panties in a twist every single time I decide not to talk. For your information, the reason I've been so quiet is because I had a damn sex dream about you and every time you touch me, I can't help but think about it!"

The moment the words were out of her mouth, Aurora clapped her hand over it and her face turned bright red. For a moment, Sandor just stood there staring at her while she looked everywhere but at him. Then, surprising her, he burst into a deep-belly laugh. Aurora looked up at him. His head was thrown back as he continued laughing and soon, Aurora couldn't help but join in.

When their laughter finally died down, Aurora was finally able to meet Sandor's gaze. He slowly reached out to push a strand of hair from in front of her eyes and then he cupped her face. "That's what's been bothering ya? Ya shoulda said." Aurora arched a brow and quipped, "Oh really? And what would you have done about it?" Sandor moved to scoop her up, but was interrupted by the sound of thundering hooves. "Get behind me," he growled.

"Who are they?" she asked quietly. "Brotherhood without Banners," he whispered back as the horses surrounded him. "As I live and breathe, Sandor Clegane." The next thing either of them knew, Aurora was being hoisted onto someone else's horse and Sandor was bound and a hood was thrown over his head. Aurora could feel her heart thundering in her chest. She wanted nothing more than to fight back, but strong arms held her in place. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

L"_ӧ