Hello readers! This story contains some pretty difficult themes, like rape and what can result from it. That's not what the majority of the story is about, but definitely will have a huge impact. If that is hard for you to read, I wouldn't recommend my story.
Sansa curled even tighter around herself as she heard the battle rage around her. She knew the queen expected her, but she was too exhausted to care.
Don't fight me, he'd said with an evil glint in his eyes. Sansa curled in on herself again, willing the aches to go away, along with the images in her head. It had happened two nights ago, and every time she drifted off she saw him stabbing her with his great sword over and over again.
She wished he had.
Rape her for all I care, her beloved Joffrey had spat after he was tired of watching her beatings. He's said this many times to many people, but she didn't expect it to actually happen. He hadn't called for her since, and if he had any brain he wouldn't—the Hound would not stop her from pushing him this time.
She cringed at the thought of her once-protector, and started to cry silently to herself.
You'll scream for me, pretty one, he rasped as he violated her. And as much as she had tried to remain strong, she did. Oh did she scream. But she had not made a sound since her screams had filled the castle from the lower cells. She hadn't spoken, she hadn't moved. She just lay there, praying for Stannis Baratheon's horde to come kill her—kill them all.
She froze as her door slowly creaked open, picturing again the huge form and black eyes of her attacker. She dared not breathe as she heard the intruder shuffle slowly in, walking around the room and examining all her things. He was breathing heavily and sighing every few seconds. Sansa willed whomever it was to simply leave, but he sat down on the edge of her bed.
"The world's on fire, little bird" he growled out