Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Three

Sandor Clegane X Baratheon!Reader - Worst Case Scenario: Requested

A/N - This chapter was requested by user: Wolfwriter14. I ended using the song 'Worst Case Scenario' by The Hoosiers to help inspire this imagine. I hope you all enjoy it.

Sandor loved watching the way blush would bloom in your cheeks when you were complimented. It was a common occurrence as the daughter of the King. Princesses were supposed to grow used to people throwing sweet little comments their way in the hopes of gaining some sort of favour, but you had never become accustomed to the 'kindness' of your people. 

As the compliments grew sweeter, the blush would spread on your skin, pushing out of your cheeks and down your neck, eventually covering your chest. It truly was a pretty picture, and Sandor had started thoroughly enjoying working with you when suitors came calling, even if he didn't approve of the boys vying for your hand. 

"There is not a woman alive who could rival your beauty, Princess," one of the boys had uttered one afternoon, and it was quickly met with a snort from Sandor as you attempted to smile sweetly. 

Once the boy was gone, Sandor came to lounge in his spot. Something about his brash demeanour seemed to knock the shyness out of you, even for a little while, and you'd become close friends in the time that he'd been your guard. 

"What did you think?" you murmured, pulling your legs up under yourself, in a much more comfortable, but less ladylike position. 

Sandor let out a short snort of laughter again. "You didn't like him."

You released a small sigh, shaking your head. "That isn't what I asked," you uttered, attempting to sound authoritative but failing miserably.

"He said you were the most beautiful woman alive, like he thought there was a prettier one dead," he started, snorting again. "Don't think you'd want a husband who thought like that."

Another sigh pulled itself from you. "I don't understand why they can't just behave like normal people. We get on great and you never compliment me," you whined, shaking your head. "I'm so tired of men trying to win my affection by blurting whatever pretty words come to their minds."

"I don't compliment you because I know you don't like it. These men don't know you like that," Sandor grumbled, sitting up properly when he noticed the pinched expression on your face. You were frustrated, he knew as much, and he also knew that you would never be able to tell your father that you were done with courting, even just for a while.

"If I never had to meet another suitor I would be so happy. If I could live in my chambers, completely on my own, for the rest of my life, I would do it in an instant," you murmured, shaking your head. Sandor looked slightly pained at your comment, and your entire demeanour softened. "With the exception of you, of course," you added. "I would need my guard at my side, just in case."

"Then you should stop seeing them." His answer was so simple that it made you release a small chuckle.

You shook your head. "The Seven Kingdoms would be at war if I refused to even consider marrying some Lord's stuck up son." 

"Then marry one of the not so stuck up ones?"

This time you released a real whine, glancing up at him with furrowed brows. "What do you think I'm trying to do?" You lifted your hand to your mouth, biting at your thumbnail. "From what I can tell, every single one I meet is just as stuck up as the last."

"Well, they must exist because I'm not stuck up." 

A small smile pulled at your lips at his comment. "Correct," you uttered, lowering your hand again. "But I can't go marrying you, can I? We're friends."

"Are married couples not supposed to be friends?"

You shrugged slightly, a small frown coming to your lips as your brows furrowed. "I've only ever known one married couple, and my parent are definitely not friends." 

Sandor released a soft sigh. "I would imagine that some couples are friends."

"Find me a couple worth knowing who actually like one another and I will marry you the moment you ask." Sandor was on his feet the moment the words left your mouth, moving towards the door. "Where are you going?" you started, your voice small and confused.

He glanced down at you, a sweet smile on his lips. "The faster I find them, the faster I get to marry you."

A surprised chuckle escaped you, but you gave a short nod. "Then you're excused."

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