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Peaceful Balance	By : Gabriella Category: A through F > A Song of Ice and Fire Views: 26991 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the book(s) that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Peaceful Balance
- 2-The Unfinished
- 1
- 2
This fic is based on the “A Song of Ice & Fire” series by George R. R. Martin, using all three of the books that are currently out. I don’t own the characters of Sansa Stark or Sandor Clegane; I’m just playing with them & this time they are BOTH alive!!!!!!!!! (Hail me….) ^.--
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I’d have a movie made: with Vin Diesel as Sandor Clegane [that body, that attitude, that voice!! {shiiiiiiver…} and Kate Winslet as Sansa Stark (gorgeous woman, lush body, strong will.) ^.--
I’SS ALL GOOD!!!!!!!! *Thwack*
Warning: graphic character pleasure!! Thanx to those who reviewed!! Hope you find it…. satisfactory… *smirk*

^_________^

*soft whisper*
{Enjoy the show-----------------}

Peaceful Balance

Sansa lay relaxed and sated on her bed, sprawled naked under the furs. Her breathing was slow and even as she dosed for a time between sleep and wakefulness, her gaze solely aware of the man lying languidly beside her. His strong calloused fingers entwined with tendrils of her thick auburn hair, his head turned towards her in unconscious alertness.
She marveled once again at the irony of their relationship and the contradictions that they were. It was not meant that they be together. It was not intended by either of them. If her parents had been alive it would have shocked them to death. He was once King Joffrey’s Sworn Shield and cur of the Lannisters, in their service he had done many heinous things; she was Sansa Stark, traitors’ blood, heir of Winterfell and blood of the Wolf. She was of a line of the First Men, the Kings of Winter and, once, had had a direwolf.
She remembered Lady. Gentle, quiet, reserved, smaller than her sister and brothers yet a direwolf just the same. She had been her guardian and friend and because of her she had died.
All because of her…
So very long ago…
Or at least it seamed that way; after all she’d been through.
It was a time of hell. Everything she had ever known was destroyed. Her home and her very family had been broken. Her parents and eldest brother murdered. Before that she had lived in songs. Everything had been a song that was perfect and beautiful: she believed those who were beautiful, she trusted those who shone and she begged for mercy from a boy she blindly believed loved her, solely because he played up to her pretty dreams.
Then, she knew nothing; but she learned quickly. Very quickly...
She learned to trust nothing and no one. The innocent faith she put in the new gods and the songs, was shattered beyond repair. She learned deception with the art of courtesy and the lie behind the smile. Her very world imploded and she had to learn to build it up.
Yet, she reflected, if she had not gone through what she had, she would have learned nothing. And she would never have met her lover, the only one who never lied about who he was or flattered what he was; about himself he told her everything, he never played her false. He was the one to show her the true harshness of reality and also, paradoxically, its irony. How someone who never fit the mold of perfection in the songs and never shone with glory would yet, be, the essence of a true knight. Though at that he would laugh in her face. It always made him laugh.
He shifted beside her, throwing his left arm around her waist, his fingers softly caressing the bare flesh they found. In sadness she lifted her hand and gently ran her fingertips along the burned flesh from his elbow to his wrist. The skin was healed yet its feel was of leather and its color was raw.
He had so many scars, and his burns… they were the worst. He feared fire like no one else, and he had good reason to do so. Half his face had been horrendously burned when he had been no more then a child. His left arm had been burned only recently. Neither made him love the flame. Both made him frightening to behold and the first burn had kindled in him an anger that smoldered and festered and had kept everyone from wanting to get close to him. He loathed everyone and cared for no one, doing his duty and keeping to himself. That was his way---
Then she came along
At first he terrified her, his more than slightly intimidating appearance was nothing like her dream of handsome knights in shining armor. When she called him Ser he snarled back that there were no knights. He was never polite, in the courtly sense anyway, and he never treated her with chivalrous gentleness or deference for who she was.
He was never knightly. Yet all those she admired, looked up to and dreamed of, who aspired to be or were knights already, only looked their parts but had nothing whatever in them of honor, gentleness, truth or courage.
It was always him:
When Joffrey turned on her and sought her compliance and fear, he was there to tell her why.
When Joffrey had her hit, he was there to staunch her wounds and haul her from the floor when she went down.
When Joffrey demanded she see the beheaded and spiked dead on the wall, he was there and gave her the strength.
When she miss-spoke to Joffrey, he was there to give her words truth.
When Joffrey had her stripped to the waist and beaten, he was the one who rasped “enough”, and when cover for her was demanded by Tyrion, he unfastened his knight’s cloak to clothe her in warmth.
When she rode out with Cersei, Joffrey and others into the city and into the depths of an angry mob, he was there to save her from being dragged off her horse, beaten and raped; he fought off any who sought her harm, he rode her horse with her safely behind him, to get her back to the castle without further incident.
When war raged in the city and fire reigned around them, he came to her and sought her to escape with him.
Then, she refused him.
Now---
Now she refused him nothing.
To her he was everything. Only with the Hound did she ever truly feel safe. Only with Sandor Clegane was she truly herself. They had known each other at their best and at their worst. They knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses. They knew each other through and through and it scared neither. She was his light, his font of dreams, his tongue of sweetness and courtesy. She was his lover, wife, student and friend. He was her darkness, her true honesty, her unflinching courage and brutal reality. He was her lover, husband, mentor and friend.
She sighed deeply in contentment, reaching out to caress the planes of his face with light fingertips, simply watching him breath deeply in slumber, his face relaxed and vulnerable. As vulnerable as it ever could be… Only with her was he open, only with her was he ever relaxed.
Satisfied that he slept still, she lowered her head to their pillow and rested her hand gently on his abdomen as she draped a leg over one of his, swiftly falling asleep curled around him.
For a time only their breathing could be heard in their room as the night lightened into dawn…
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As dawn fully broke over the horizon Sandor Clegane slowly woke from his deep dreamless sleep. He was aware as always of the crisp stillness that pervaded their spacious bedchamber at this early hour of the morning; once again making him thankful that he was shrouded with warm furs. He was also aware that a great part of his easy warmth was due to the fact that Sansa was lazily sprawled over much of him, her scent gentle as it surrounded him with peace.
She was sound asleep.
He wasn’t.
Not anymore
He dropped his gaze to the woman lying with such trust against him, once again thanking whoever was out there for the gift of her existence and her choice to be with him.
In every way
He was her only lover. Only with him did she utterly surrender her body and soul. When they were one… he believed again, as he once did, in magic and in her songs; that part of her that was dreams, regardless of how much pain she went through.
He cherished that.
That tiny part of her that would always contain her innocence and naïveté; now, only he knew about it, saw it, in her unguarded moments when she let her vulnerability show. In public that was never, her façade of courtesy, diplomacy and manners never faltered or slipped. She learned the hard way to conceal her true feelings from the world, showing only serene perfection and concealing any doubt or emotion. Only he could still read what she truly thought, regardless of what she chose to project.
But then, he knew her so very well…
All of her
She moaned softly in her sleep, trailing her hand higher up his chest and sliding her leg up his thigh, distracting him from his serious train of thought.
She was so beautiful… perfect, flawless in his view. The only hint of all that had happened to her was in her eyes, they were no longer innocent as they once were; they were now always guarded and in their depths lurked a haunted sadness that not even he could erase. Yet it made her even more beautiful and somehow older than she really was.
He traced her face with his fingertips, smoothing her hair back from her brow. He then softly ran the tip of his index and middle fingers down the center of her forehead, her nose, caressing her mouth. She moaned again, unconsciously kissing his fingers. He smiled as she shifted once again, causing the furs to slide down her chest to her hips, baring her lush breasts to his gaze. His fingers
reluctantly left her mouth and wandered slowly across her chin, languorously caressing her throat as she arched her neck, wandering in between her collarbones and down lazily between her breasts, detouring to caress their firm undersides. Once again she moaned, arching into his hand. He desisted and continued his journey from her sternum, teasingly stroking his way down to her navel after gently caressing her ribs. He lingered at her belly-button, circling it patiently, watching her shift once again, her leg sliding down his thigh as she adjusted her position so she lay fully on her back, the furs sliding off completely. He smirked in anticipation as his fingers softly stroked down her belly, feeling the muscles flutter nervously under his hand. He swirled his fingers lazily towards her
nest of dark curls and watched her writhe in pleasure, her legs loosening and opening in silent invitation for his touch.
She began to rouse from slumber, her breathing shifting into light pants as he drew teasingly close to her center. She stretched languidly, shuddering as his fingers slipped lower, pulling gently on the dark curly hairs. He raised his gaze to her face, watching her mouth open and her teeth part, her eyebrows drawing together in concentration, hands fisted in the furs, as if anchoring her.
As her breathing quickened, she moaned his name inencouragement.
He was only too happy to comply
His strong fingers slipped gently to that most intimate place of all, finding her hot and wet. He began to caress her softly; stroking, rubbing and teasing the sensitive hidden pearl that nestled there.
“Sandor!” she cried, her back arching in reaction as her eyes snapped open to stare intently at his face. Their eyes locked, silently saying everything and yet nothing at the same time; deep blue communing soundlessly with dark gray, a silent pledge renewed once again.
Then he smirked and winked, her eyebrow raised in question just as his fingers suddenly slid deep inside her. Sansa inhaled sharply, throwing her head back and grinding her hips forward to meet his thrusting fingers. Her body writhing helplessly around him as her soft pants and groans filled the room with her pleasure at his touch.
Her wanton sounds were music to his ears as he watched her creamy skin grow sweaty and her long, thick auburn hair, grow damp and unruly once again as she shuddered in ecstasy.
Sandor felt himself harden at the unrestrained reaction his little bird was having to his sensuous ministrations. She was well on her way to completion and he wanted to push her beyond herself in a slightly more different way than usual
Sandor continued the regular thrust and withdrawal of his fingers, he then sat up, freeing his other hand, and used the fingertips to teasingly caress their way up Sansa’s nearest leg to her thigh thereby causing it to tense, shiver and bend out of his way. He could then slide past her leg so he knelt between her thighs, never having broken his rhythm. Balanced on the balls of his feet he spread his knees apart and, hooking his hand at the small of her back, pulled her forward until her open thighs touched his spread knees. He then bent over her, bracing his elbow by her shoulder as he languidly kissed, licked and teased his way down her throat to her breasts, taking each nipple alternately in his mouth and caressing them with his teeth, his tongue and his lips, leaving them swollen, hot, aching and very sensitive to his touch. His fingers never paused…
“Oh Gods, Sandor---Please!” Sansa whispered faintly, her breath and heartbeat racing, begging him to release her from his lingering torment.
In reply Sandor increased the force of his thrusts and angled his fingers so they slid against the pearl of her pleasure. Giving a breathless scream Sansa was thrown violently over the edge, her stabbing orgasm ripping his name from her throat and sending it ringing to his ears as she convulsed in abandon beneath him.
Her muscles throbbed around his fingers, contracting and pulling as if to keep them wonderfully inside her, as she lay spent, sprawled and glowing with sweat on the thick furs of their bed. Her breathing and heartbeat slowly returning to normal under his intense gaze as he remained crouched above her, inhaling the musky scent of her orgasm as he waited patiently for her to be with him so they could become one in their release.
Sandor Clegane slowly withdrew his fingers from Sansa’s slick depths and languidly licked them clean. Straightening himself up from his crouch he slid his hands lovingly up her feet, ankles, calves, knees, thighs, hips, belly, ribs, breasts, collarbones, throat and down her shoulders, upper arms, elbows, forearms, wrists and hands. Drowsily her eyes opened and once again their gazes locked as their palms met and their fingers laced tight. Sansa smiled lazily in response, knowing he wanted to take her once again.

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Sansa stretched, arching her back and keeping her fingers entwined tightly with those of her waiting lover. Her legs, sprawled wide and relaxed as her inner thighs brushed his knees, shifted and tensed as she bent her knees up, allowing him to move her as he wished.
And so he did.
Sandor raised their joined hands to his lips and brushed a kiss softly over the backs of hers before releasing them and swiftly leaning down once more only to capture her lips in a brief, possessive kiss that ended far too soon. The kiss distracted Sansa enough that she forgot where his hands were. That is, until she felt his strong, callused fingers slyly tickle the small of her back and slowly encircle her waist, his thumbs gently stroking her belly and pulling her inexorably towards him.
Surprised, Sansa’s hands snapped to his biceps to steady herself and as Sandor pulled her up his thighs to straddle his hips, her hands moved to his shoulders, up his neck and head, till she cradled his head with her embracing arms.
Once he had positioned her to his satisfaction, Sandor let go of her hips, chuckling when she locked her ankles together for balance; he knew they wouldn’t be locked for long…
“What?” Sansa questioned softly as Sandor smirked and chuckled once again. She had no idea what he found so funny.
To distract her once again Sandor kissed Sansa on the nose and softly on the mouth, trailing his lips to her ear, nibbling on her lobe and interspersing that with feathery breathing on the sensitive shell of her ear.
Sansa shivered and moaned in response, her head lolling back and her eyes sliding closed in pleasure. Her unanswered question forgotten…
While Sansa was distracted, Sandor cupped her backside in hishands, caressing and kneading its firm halves. It was both soothing and stimulating for both of them as it was the intimate contact of rough, callused fingers and palms with her silky smooth behind in motions that were unhurried yet firm.
Sansa’s hands slid down to Sandor’s shoulders, running hungrily over the strong muscles, soothing the scarred flesh. Her right hand lifted and she ran her fingers gently across his forehead and down the burned side of his face; soothingly caressing the ruination around his eye, the ravaged part of his lips and the rent in his jaw.
Sandor leaned into the caress, kissing her palm when it brushed his lips. His right hand released its hold on her backside and, starting from her tailbone, stroked its way up her spine, exciting her nerve endings along the way. Sansa arched in reaction, her breasts thrust forward, swollen nipples brushing his chest as she inhaled sharply. Her thighs clenched reflexively around his hips, her ankles loosening and her toes flexing in response to the shooting tingle that slid through her veins from her breasts to her toes and throbbed longingly in her center.
“Sandor…” She whimpered pleadingly. “Take me, please… I need you…inside me...”
Sandor felt Sansa’s panting breath as her breasts rose and fell against his chest. Her skin once again growing sweaty: he tasted the salt as he licked her neck, a drop of his own sweat falling to her shoulder and sliding down her back.
She rocked her hips against him, feeling him hard and ready as he slid against her, teasing her mercilessly and taunting her desire. He wanted her to make the first move. He wanted to see how far he could push her before she took control.
Sandor Clegane tilted his head towards her and rasped softly: “Fuck me…”
Sansa’s head jerked up in surprise, her eyes wide and brows raised, her mouth open in shock. He had never said that to her before, it was little short of a very raunchy command.
Watching her through heavy lidded eyes, Sandor judged that she found his rough comment very arousing. Following her initial shock her body shivered involuntarily, a hot blush sweeping from her chest to the roots of her hair.
He chuckled at her still shy reaction. She had long since lost her maidenhood and they were far from new to their intimacy yet she was never aggressive in her approach to him. It had always been he who initiated their lovemaking, always he who was dominant.
Now he wanted her to take control…
He smiled slyly at her and winked, taking her hand by the wrist and placing it on his chest to feel his quickened heartbeat. Her thumb stroked his heated skin, gentle and soothing; he moved her hand slowly down his chest, her fingers running smoothly over hard muscle and much scarred flesh, taking a lazy route down. Ever down
His abdominal muscles shivered under her fingertips and he groaned, his hardness throbbing with need beneath her.
Sansa’s eyes flashed to Sandor’s face, seeing his heavy lidded gaze intent on their purposely descending hands and the look of intense concentration that held thrall of his features. He teasingly drew her hand around his belly button, loosening his grip on her wrist and caressing his fingertips up her arm to her elbow, leaving off there and reaching for her breasts, stroking her nipples lightly, causing her to shudder and roll her eyes back in pleasure.
Of its own accord Sansa’s hand softly trailed down Sandor’s belly, following the dark downy hair that tapered fuzzily from his navel down to the curly bush that nestled his swollen shaft and balls. Her fingertips wove through the short hairs, unhurried and gentle as she timidly made her way to his length, which gave her so much pleasure. Upon reaching it she shyly glanced up for his reaction and he smirked in response. She blushed, dropping her gaze and resting it intently on what she was about to do.
Sansa tentatively reached for his throbbing member and brushed her fingertips lightly up its side, causing him to shudder and moan in response. She smiled at such an obviously pleasured reaction and decided to experiment…
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AN) 1: Though many have asked that I continue this piece I have decided not to do so. I AM doing 2 different works of full-out sex between them but this piece I find is complete in itself. (Check out my LiveJournal for comentary) SUGESTIONS ARE WELCOME…kinky and otherwise, I am aiming to make the sex as unusual/original/deep (emotionally) as possible. It will be a bit before I'll post them as I work 6 days a week & I get in shit if I write at work, which I did at one point & ugh!! Bun fight!! I'll ponder the anal thing... I could swing that... ^.--
AN) 2: Do review... flames I donna mind, they warm me freezin’ arse… Seriously, please give me your thoughts/comments/ideas of the work that I do, for it is the readers pleasure that I seek.
AN) 3: EEEp! Thank you everyone who loved this fic, it means a lot how highly you view this piece. Especially since it was my very first attempt at written smut of any kind! *blush*
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Peaceful Balance