A/N: Warning for glimpse of nonconsensual sex act with a minor. Not really graphic though.

Takes place some time during Sandor & Arya's Epic Travel Adventures. (If that were its own TV show, I would totally watch it.).

The girl had vanished again. Most likely she'd gone off to practice her ridiculous version of swordplay, somewhere where he couldn't see her and set her straight. Ordinarily he would just ignore it, but there had been talk of soldiers passing through, a lot of them, not too long ago. Probably it was not a good idea for the girl to be wandering the woods alone with that ridiculous little toothpick and no sense of self-preservation.

Besides, he had a bad feeling all of a sudden. So he went looking for her.

It didn't surprise him at all when he followed the sounds of a commotion and discovered the girl on her knees with some stranger's prick in her mouth. Besides the owner of the prick there was one man crouched behind her holding her still, and another a few paces away, probably waiting his turn.

One had seen him already, so surprise was out. He drew his sword and pitched his voice to carry. "The brat is mine – and I don't like sharing. Get lost or I'll hack you apart."

The men must have recognized him, or at least recognized that he was no one to fuck with: they exchanged looks and a couple of frantic hisses, and fled immediately. Leaving the girl on her hands and knees spitting onto the ground.

He waited a bit, but she didn't stop retching. Damn her. "You all right?" he said at last. For some reason, instead of answering she gave him a look of pure hate – and dashed off into the trees.

For fuck's sake.

At least she hadn't taken off in the direction the soldiers had gone.

Arya knew from the huffing and growling that the person stomping up behind her was the Hound. Pity – she'd rather have had the soldiers back. At least them she could kill, without feeling strange about it. She definitely wanted to kill someone. "Go away," she said.

"You didn't get lesson enough this morning not to run off alone?" he snarled, from much too close. "Or did you like it so much you're hoping for seconds?"

"If anyone comes near me I'll cut their throat." Her voice came out nice and steady. She was proud. "Especially you. Go away."

"Especially me?" He was laughing. "What the fuck did I do?"

She had never hated anybody so much in all her life. The Hound was nasty and evil – and useless. He'd let them get away. "Why didn't you kill them?" She tilted her head back to see him, but he was standing right over her so all she got was legs. "I know you could have."

"Not before they cracked your skull. Now come on – we need to go, before their friends come looking for us." She felt him shift. "Is that yours?"

"Is what mine?" Something poked her neck and she hissed – it hurt. "Oh. Yes." She wiped at it with her hand, but it was more blood than she'd thought and all she did was make a mess. "The first one had a dagger and he said if I bit him he'd kill me."

The Hound was chuckling as he knelt down behind her. "I'm surprised you didn't bite anyway, wolf girl."

"I did," she snapped. "That's how this happened. He didn't kill me though, he just-…" she imitated the flailing spastic stabbing motion as best she could, and it made the Hound laugh more.

"Stupid girl," he said. "You got lucky. Now hold still. I'll clean it for you – we can't have it fester."

She knew he was right, but still. "Stop calling me stupid girl." She bowed her head so that he could see the wound better. "Sansa is a stupid girl. I'm just stupid. Those cunts didn't even know I'm a girl. They thought I was a boy."

"Be glad; they'd have stuck it where you don't have teeth," the Hound growled. Cool as ever, as if he didn't really care either way. "Now this will hurt. Don't scream."

She nodded and grit her teeth, all ready to not scream, but suddenly the smell of wine made her mouth water. Which made her realize-... "Wait – I need to rinse. Give me that."

He handed over the wineskin at once, with a sigh. She took a big mouthful and spat it out, and then another, and then changed her mind and started drinking instead.

"Enough," the Hound said after a bit. "Are you trying to get yourself drunk?" He took the wineskin away.

"I can still taste it," she protested, and tried to take it back.

"No you can't." He turned her around and started to work on her neck again.

"I can. I can taste it." The acid bitterness was fresh in her mind. She gagged again. "I can still…" Suddenly she was furious. "What do you know!" She jumped up, now her turn to tower above, as he knelt there looking like... like he thought the whole thing was funny. And also like he felt sorry for her. Which she hated even more. "You don't know anything," she snarled right in his face, and grabbed him by the jaw. "I said, the taste is still there." Daring him to argue.

The flesh of his cheeks was soft and she dug her fingers in hard, wanting to hurt. The way his breath caught said it was working. Good. That was what they had done, squeezed like this to force her jaws apart. She hated them – and him. She squeezed with all her strength, and when she squeezed hard enough, his mouth fell open.

It gave her an idea. She took one more pull of the wineskin, and then leaned over and spat it all into his mouth. "See?" she said – and spat again.

Then she froze.

She'd just spit into the Hound's mouth. Twice. He was going to kill her.

She let go of his face and took a step back, waiting for it.

Instead of killing her, though… the Hound closed his mouth and swished the wine through his cheeks slowly, twice... and then swallowed it down.

He shook his head. "Just wine," he said. "Wine and wolf."

She took a second to try and figure out whether he was making fun, and couldn't, so she went to slap him just in case. He stopped her, though. Caught her wrist and yanked her so that she fell down against him.

"Should I make sure?" he said, and now he was definitely taunting, but before she could figure out what to do about it he was swooping in, sideways, to shove his tongue into her mouth.

What?! There was a second of shock where she did nothing, but then she got herself together and tried to fight his tongue with hers. He was too slippery to parry, though, and too strong to eject. She tried for a while but knew she was outmatched, which made the anger flare up all over again, so finally she just bit down – hard.

He laughed into her mouth and then pulled back. "Wine and wolf," he said again. "And now blood." He spat pink onto the ground. Good! Served him right. "They're gone, girl. Now shut up and let me see to your neck."

She did. She was still pretty furious, but at least the taste was gone.

The End?

These two are a lot of fun to write, so I might do more at some point. Dunno yet. Let me know what you think!