A/N: It has been far too long since I have written anything, so here you are! This is a Sandor/Sansa fiction that is based loosely on the series Game of Thrones. It is mainly based upon the TV show by HBO. It will be multi-chapter, though I am not very far into it yet, so be patient with me. I am not sure how long it will be yet. Sorry that this first chapter is so short, but there will be more coming soon, I promise. I love this pairing so much and cannot wait to try my hand at it. Please let me know what you think by leaving a review!

Rescue Me

Chapter 1

Sandor Clegane growled at the masses, shoving the Joffrey ahead of him and swatting at anything in his path with his sword, not caring whom it hit. He gave the young king to the other members of the Kingsguard, but did not follow them into the keep. He looked around for her bright red hair, but saw none. Damn it all.. He spat and looked around again. Shoving his way back into the fray, he saw one of her maids running past. Grabbing the woman harshly by the arm, surely hard enough to leave a bruise, he barked "The Stark girl, where has she gone?"

The woman shook her head, and the Hound shoved her away. It was only sheer luck that he heard her screams, recognizing her voice instantly. He ran in the direction of her pleas and soon enough found her. He grimaced at the scene before him. Three men surrounded her, one holding her shoulders down, one holding a leg, and the other between her legs and hiking up her skirt. She did not see him until he had grabbed the man from between her legs and disemboweled him, casting him aside as easily as swatting a fly. He made quick work of the other, the one holding her leg, with a quick thrust of his dagger into his kidney. This man, too, was tossed aside.

By this time, the third was attempting to escape. Sansa had scrambled to the back of the room and shoved her skirts back to her ankles, cowering in fear. The Hound skillfully grabbed the third man and slit his throat with a fluid motion that spoke of much experience. He was careful to angle his body between the gore and Sansa, not wanting to scare her even more than she was already.

Sheathing his dagger, he turned to her and did his best not to look menacing, though he was sure the blood covering his armor did not help. "It's alright, you are safe now, Little Bird," he reached a hand down to her gently and slowly, not wanting to startle her. To his surprise, she smiled up at him and took his hand.

"Thank you, Ser…" Sandor grunted at her and hoisted her up over his shoulder. He shoved his way through the crowd once more and into the Red Keep. She was whisked away by her maids as soon as he could set her down.

"Make sure you see to that cut!" he barked after them.

Tyrion Lannister waddled over to him, thanking him profusely. The Hound just grunted at him, "It wasn't for you…" and walked away in search of a good skin of Dornish Red. He needed to clear his head. He could not shake the image of Sansa, sprawled on the floor, so helpless and afraid. He never wanted to see that face again. The Hound had cared for the girl since he had set eyes on her, and even more since seeing her courage in the face of losing her father and others that she cared about. It was disturbing to him how often the girl wound her way into his thoughts, even into his dreams.

Grabbing a wineskin from the kitchens, Sandor made his way to his room and stripped off his dirty armor, collapsing on his bed. He knew he should have cleaned himself up better first, but he didn't care. Soon he would rise and wash his armor and return to the side of the king. But for now, he would sit and drink and think of the girl who would never pay him the attention that he paid her.