I realize that that this story is extremely old, but...

This undoubtedly has to be my favorite story of the several Hound stories you have written.

The Hounds interaction with Jeyne at the brothel is so very bittersweet...

I absolutely loved it!

Another wonderful story.

Well done.

This was an excellent ASoIaF fic. Definitely one of my favorites. The fact that I'm reviewing says a lot, since I'm usually so bad about not leaving feedback. Sandor's voice was just right.

*grins* I'm saving up your stories for a rainy day! It's so nice to come home from the daily grind and read a really well-written piece of work.

I love Flogging Molly’s Drunken Lullabies; Cruel Mistress is my favorite track.
I can’t believe I never made the connection between “Death Valley Queen” and Sandor’s relationship with Sansa. It fits astonishingly well… the part about her head being filled with dreams is complete Sansa and “downtrodden and burned” is complete Sandor. Whee! Thank you for making this connection!
Now on to the real review: I liked that there was camaraderie and this sense of sticking-together-ness and this sense of warmth at the brothel. Whores and madams and pimp/bodyguards are people too. :-D But honestly, it gave the story some contrast. Sandor is utterly alone; no family, friends, no little bird to love him (*tear*), he has nothing but his money and his sword. Jeyne, though a whore, has her “sisters” and a protector/father-figure in Rajev and a kind of mother-figure in Maila. It’s a weird little family.
Parts I loved:
Jeyne wondering how she looked while she was asleep was great. It was just so wistful and made me want to know her back story and how she came to be a whore.
Sandor bracing himself from falling by reaching over Jeyne’s head for the wall. I really got a sense of how tall and drunk he is and her timidity. Very subtle.
Maila’s winecup and bed of a whore theory. It’s cynical but insightful and made me think of Mrs. Allworthy’s sweet little apothegms is the movie Moll Flanders.
Sandor’s indecision in wanting Jeyne/Sansa to fear him or not. He’s had nothing but fear and revulsion from the women around him that he’s not quite used to anything else, it seems. And his disappointment about Sansa never looking at him was heartbreaking.
I can’t tell you how much I loved this line: He fumbled at her wrists, took one of her hands, and raised it clumsily to the good side of his face. “Like that. Sing.”
And this line: He raised his hand to cover hers and without opening his eyes slurred, “Again.”
And this one was so evocative in drawing up images of his isolation from the world: Sandor awoke alone, in the cold gray light of an indifferent dawn.
The kiss on the cheek. Although, with all the nerve endings burnt away on that side of his face, I’m not sure he’d be able to feel it. But no matter. I thought it was so sweet and encouraging of her to do that. And sad that it takes him a second to figure out that it was in fact a kiss.
I didn’t think Jeyne was a Mary Sue at all… Other than the fact that she saw the softer and more vulnerable side to the Hound that everyone (well, me, at least…) is dying to see, I don’t see anything that could be construed as self-projection at all. Unless you secretly want to be a not-that-pretty fifteen year old whore in a second-rate brothel. :-)
I think this is my favorite out of all four of your Sandor vignettes. The detail and emotion and characterization are perfect. Will you be writing more fanfic for other characters in ASoIaF?

Allright, after reading "Tally sticks" I found this and more of your writing... Guess I won't be getting much sleep tonight, but never mind. Yes. I think I liked this even more than the previous. That part when he asked her if she knew any of those hymns to the mother gave me that feeling, you know, of fingers brushing my entrails. That's a good feeling, I wish more authors were capable of giving me it.
And Jeyne didn't strike me as very MarySueish at all. Also very much liked the detail about the boy who wanted to call her Rala, for some reason. The reason being my deep symphaty with people giving in to their illusions for a little while, I suppose.