Game of Thrones Imagines

The Oracle - Part 5 - Sandor x Reader

Bronn walked out of the room, a similar look on his face as Tyrion had not long before. Sandor couldn't help but shake his head. One of the most intelligent, and one of the fiercest sellswords in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms turned into what appeared like a pair of jabbering, grinning idiots who were wittering on about visions of the future, and gifts of the gods.

Sandor would reluctantly admit that there was certainly something different about this so called Oracle, something that may suggest that she may be gifted in certain ways, but that she was actually able to converse with gods, gods that he himself didn't even believe in, he wasn't so sure.

He had heard of her grotto deep in the ancient woods. Heard that those that believed in the old gods would go to see the young woman who was said to be able to provide them with answers. But to him it was just a way that the three old women, that asked for payment before a believer was able to even see the Oracle, could get more than their fair share of gold for very little.

But despite his disbelief, despite his opinions on the whole matter, he had been drawn to the pale, white eyed woman that had knelt shaking on the floor in front of the sadistically grinning Joffrey. There was aura of innocence about her, an innocence that made him want to jump to her defence. And something else, something that he couldn't for the life of him explain. Something that made him feel like she was important to him, that he was important to her.

Sandor would be the first to admit that he had done many terrible things in his life, many things that he shouldn't be proud of, but the way that Joffrey and Trant had treated the poor blind girl was, in Sandor's eyes, the lowest of the low. And the whole thing had made his blood boil. But it was how she had looked him straight in the eyes and smiled as Varys had escorted her from the throne room, that had made Sandor really want to meet her when Varys had come to find him.

She had looked at him as though she could see him as well as he could see her. But it wasn't just his outside form that she was looking at, it was something deep inside, something that he tried to hide from the outside world.

"(Y/n) will want to see you now. She asked to see each one of you in turn. Even you" Varys said, turning his attention to the big man that was leaning against the wall.

With a huff, Sandor pushed himself off the wall, straightening himself before forcing open the door, his eyes falling on the young woman that sat on the bed. Sandor found that he couldn't help but stare. Her smile was so sweet, so strangely loving, that despite himself he couldn't help but smile back.

"Hello, Sandor. I am so glad that you agreed to come. Of all of you, I wished to meet you the most. I have seen visions of the big black scarred hound for as long as I can remember. You have been part of my life for even longer than Varys has, and it is a pleasure to finally get to know you." (Y/n) said softly as Sandor closed the door behind him and moved further into the room.

"So, ya gonna tell me all about me future? Show me things that ya showed Tyrion and Bronn? I don't need ya ta tell me about me future lass, me future is to kill and eventually die." Sandor grumbled as he came to stand right in front of the young woman. (Y/n)'s smile growing wider as she sensed his closeness.

"No. You are a very different man. You are not impressed by a future that I can give you no proof of. Not impressed by something that I could just say was shown me by the gods. I would prefer to tell you something more personal, something that I cannot dream up. Something about you, that you and only you will know. I am here to tell you your past, Sandor Clegane." (Y/n) declared, as she suddenly took Sandor's hand.

"But first, if you will allow me to touch your face, I would like to see you. I have only been shown you as the large, fearsome animal in my visions. So, I would like to see the real man. The man that is more than a snarling beast." (Y/n) said, as she gripped Sandor's hand tighter.

Sandor looked between the Oracles face and her soft hand that gripped his larger one. He was hesitant to allow such a thing, the idea of even this blind girl being able to see his scarred visage made him feel uncomfortable. But there was something about her, that perfect smile that she was giving him that seemed to make him sit on the bed by her side. That seemed to make him take both of her small hands and place them gently on his face.

Sandor furrowed his brows as tears began to trickle down (Y/n)'s cheeks. Her hands delicately touching his scar.

"I can feel the heat of the burning brazier. I can hear the sound of your skin burning, the sound of your screams. I can smell the scent of your melting flesh. You were playing with one of Gregor's discarded toys, that's why he burned you wasn't it? He claimed that you stole it, and he was punishing you for this supposed crime. If it hadn't been for those half dozen servants that managed to pull him away from you, the gods only know what could have happened. Your father didn't blame your brother for what occurred did he? Instead, he claimed that your bed had caught fire, and that is why fire is the only thing that you are afraid of." (Y/n) began, her silent tears flowing like a river as her fingers took in every dip and curve of Sandor's face.

"You gutted your first man when you were little more than twelve, and you have loved killing ever since. You believe that every man does, and those that say they don't are just liars. You have complete contempt for the idea of romance and songs of courtly love which portray knights as brave and chivalrous, because you know the truth. You know that most of these honoured knights are nothing more than brutal butchers, just like your brother." (Y/n) told a shocked Sandor. The large man not believing that the young woman could possibly know these things.

"You like others to see you as violent, aggressive, and brutal. But underneath your fearsome reputation you are so much more than just the animal that people think you are. You are compassionate and affectionate, you feel guilt and remorse, and I believe that, despite how you may fight it, you are what every true knight should be, what every romantic song should be written about." (Y/n) said, as her hands moved from Sandor's face, down his neck, and slowly onto his chest. Her hands finally settling just over his heart.

Sandor could feel his heart pound violently in his chest. (Y/n)'s touch was not just the touch of a woman like any other that he had met. It was the touch of what Sandor could only guess was love. But no matter its name, he knew he didn't want it to stop.

"I need you more than I need the others. More than Tyrion's mind, more than Bronn's swiftness. I need you because our futures are closely intertwined. They have been since I first saw the dark hound in my dreams. I never knew your name, never knew what the gods meant when they showed you to me. But when I sensed you in that room, when I could hear your heartbeat above everything else, I knew why. This was all meant to be. The death of the old women, the destruction of my home, being dragged here to kneel before that evil boy. All of it had to happen so that I could meet you. And now I just hope that you will believe what I am about to show you." (Y/n) told Sandor as she slowly closed her eyes.

Sandor found his own eyes fluttering shut. A warmth growing in his chest underneath the hands of the Oracle. And then he saw it. Images in his minds eye of he and (Y/n) together, their naked bodies entangled as they made love in a room that looked identical to the one in which they sat. Then the vision changed, the picture showing a small simple home out in the middle of a snowy forest. A steady stream of smoke leaving the chimney as young children ran around and played in the snow. He saw himself in the small home, sat next to a roaring fire, the smell of fresh cooked bread filling his senses as he continued to look upon the unfolding scene. Sandor couldn't help but see that he looked happy. An easy, comfortable happiness that came from knowing he was loved. That came from knowing that he no longer had to kill, no longer had to watch over his shoulder for the next man that wanted to prove himself.  Then he saw (Y/n), her belly filled with child as she moved towards him, Sandor pulling her onto his lap as he placed his hand over the growing bump, their lips meeting before the image suddenly stopped.

"I can only show you little bits of what can be. What will be. I don't ask you to believe in the gods, Sandor. I don't ask you to believe that what you have seen is the truth. All I ask is that you believe in me, that you trust me. If you can do that, we will have everything you saw, and more." (Y/n) whispered, Sandor's eyes flying open as he felt her lips on his.