Sandor sat by the fire that night cleaning his blade, clouds rolling through the sky to block out the moon and stars. He glanced over to Arya, then to the space that was empty where the dragon would have been.

He already regretted not pushing for her to stay.

He had a woman that wanted him to fuck her like mad, and yet he just let her go without at least one good fuck. But what was he supposed to have done? Getting enjoyment out of her just didn't feel right on these dirty roads, with their filthy bodies. And yet, since when did he care about a woman's comfort when it came to fucking, virgin or not?

After she told him that she was leaving, it surprised him how much harder it was to focus on what she looked like naked. What if she got unlucky, or sick, or injured? What if he got to Meereen and she wasn't there? Should he really go for her? The next he'd see her, she'd be a lady. She had already shown that she had a way of sneaking into his mind. Did he really need more of that?

"She might get raped on the road," Arya said, as if sensing his worries.

"So would you," Clegane pointed out with a less severe tone. That was the truth of it, and Lana knew it. They separated to protect Arya.

"All you want is money," Arya said.

"Yes, all of this is just for some stupid fucking gold," he said mockingly.

"You won't say no to it, though."

He laughed. "I'd never say no to gold."

"You don't care about me," Arya said miserably.

"You're right. Why don't I just leave you here and follow Lana? At least I'd get a good fucking out of her, 'specially if you're not around."

"Ugh, I don't want to picture that. She wouldn't want you, anyway."

He laughed harder. "You got a lot to learn."

"What does she see in a shit like you?"

"Don't fucking know. I am not a poet. It's just hormones, girl."

"She left me," Arya said. He rolled his eyes. How the fuck did he get stuck with her? If it weren't for the mountain men roaming these areas, he might have just sent her off to ride to the Eyrie on her own. It's not like she'd get lost.

"She was always going to Meereen. And your aunt can't be trusted with someone like her. Lana is a bastard to the real throne, and many of your kind would love to use that to their advantage. And not in a good way," Clegane said.

"I don't want to go to my aunt."

"It's the only place that's safe for you."

"I can stay with you. Go with you to Meereen, with Lana."

He thought about it for a long moment. "No. Just like Lana didn't want to meet your aunt, I haven't met this mother of dragons. If she is as crazy as her daddy, then I'm right back to the start with you."

"She can't be bad, or Lana wouldn't trust her."

"If only it were that simple. Your father trusted the Baratheon king, who trusted the Lannisters. Look where that got them both."

"I hate politics."

He chuckled. "If we had ale, I'd drink to that."

The next day was a long one, and Clegane missed Lana more than he cared to admit. He didn't mind her. Her company wasn't bad, and she handled him well. He even thought she was funny at times.

It dawned on him that if he had let Arya go alone to the Eyrie, he and the dragon would be riding alone on their way to White Harbor. Now that would have been enjoyable — no one around, except for the rare person that he tolerated. If the Stark girl weren't there, they'd be free to engage in whatever fucking intimacy they wanted. He supposed he could only get so lucky.

But he wouldn't abandon the wolf girl. If learning of Sansa's fate was any indicator, then he knew that abandoning Arya would truly haunt him.

They eventually reached an Inn that was just outside the Eyrie, and it was a popular place. They tied their horses up among at least twenty others and walked to the stone building that had a golden glow of candlelight coming from it.

It reminded him that Lana was out there, somewhere, in the dark.

He hated himself for letting his gentler side enjoy her. He wanted every inch of her, to fuck her so hard that she couldn't even walk the next day. He also wanted her to ride on his horse again and have her lay her head on his chest. He hated that he gave in to that. He knew he didn't need to grow any more fond of her.

And now she was alone, at night.

The temptation to get on Stranger and ride for her was so strong that it worried him.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize how big the Inn actually was. Must be where the men of the Vale go to fuck whores. They paid a man some coin for two beds. "There's ale, food, and women for pleasure, ser, if you choose," the man said.

Clegane thought on that, and then said, "Good."

"You're not getting a whore are you?" Arya asked after overhearing that.

"You'll understand one day. You got needle and your dagger?" he asked.

She nodded, her dirty face scolding him with a look.

"Yell if you need me. Stay near the fire, where most of the people are," he said and walked forward to the extremely flirtatious women in the corner.

There was a blonde there, although she wasn't nearly as pretty as Lana, but she would do. He threw a coin at her. "Let's go," he ordered.

"Well, I like a man of few words. You fond of blondes?"

"I am," he said, and she guided him to a room down the hall.

She tried to undress him, but he bat her away. "I am just here to fuck you and be done with it," he said.

She smiled like a whore was supposed to do. "I like a man who takes control," she said. They all said things they thought men wanted to hear.

He grabbed her by her shoulders, turned her around, and pushed her onto the bed. "I'm not paying you to like it."

He lifted her skirts, the bare ass and folds of a woman enough to get his blood south. He licked his hand, wiped between her thighs, and got distracted as he immediately imagined Lana. He growled at the thought, angry that he never got to feel that part of her. He grabbed the whore's hips with one hand, steadied her, and quickly found himself inside a warm, wet cunt.

It felt so good for him that for a minute he slowed down to enjoy it, not even caring that it was a whore. She tried to look over to give him whatever dumb-shit-look that whores gave, but he didn't want it. "Look ahead. I don't want your face," he said to her, and she did as she was told. He wasn't, in the slightest, interested in the intimacy of a whore. He just needed to angrily fuck something, as he only wanted one woman to put her hands on him.

The thought of being inside Lana hardened him even more, and he placed both hands on the whore's hips. They weren't Lana's, but they worked. He held her good, smacking her ass against him as he pounded her, thinking of Lana on top of him the other day, with that small, sweet look of hunger, her hair smelling like lavender...

And then when she kissed him and leaned into him as he pulled on her...

Fuck, he wanted her. He wanted to fuck her wild, with no restraint. The whore's ass rippled as he pounded harder, and all he had to do was imagine the bastard dragon moaning before he felt himself rising. He pulled out, releasing himself on the small of the whore's back.

"Now get out," he calmly said to her.

"Whatever you say," she said, standing up, and wiping her back. He wished it was Lana's ass that his seed was running down.

A stillness was about him that only came after he released his backed up balls, and gods he felt better. Lana was right about that. His balls were backed up. Something in that made him miss her as well.

The whore left with her coins, and he began to adjust his armor. With a clear head, he went out and immediately looked for Arya among the crowd of laughing and lonely men. There were women carrying around food and drink, the smell from their plates making him hungry.

When he saw Arya drinking ale all alone, he breathed with relief. She was fine. Although it was sad to see such a thing drinking all by herself.

He bought his own round and sat across from the wolf girl.

"You look miserable. We're nearly to your aunt," he said, sitting down on the wooden bench that groaned with his weight. He took a long drink.

"I don't want my aunt," Arya repeated quietly.

He sighed and said with a somber tone, the ale bubbling in the hair above his lip. "I know."

"How do you deal with the misery?" she asked, looking up at him. "You're always angry. I think I get why now. How do you deal with it?"

He studied her face. "Vengeance."

"Then what?"

"Don't know. Never got it. I imagine I'll die doing it," he said, looking into his mug as he thought of Gregor. Sandor could never truly rest until that fucker was dead.

"So it never gets better?"

"Not for someone like me. Maybe for someone like you."

"I wish Lana didn't leave," Arya said, her dirty hair in her eyes as she took another drink.

"You and me both."

"Why did she leave me? I just, I know it was risky. But she left me. Everyone always leaves me."

"She didn't leave you, wolf girl," he said, growing annoyed. Sometimes this child had a head hard as a coconut. "She is like you. Can't be caught."

"So if my aunt can't be trusted, then why are you taking me there?"

He didn't answer right away. The truth was he had no idea how to deal with her. Leaving her at the Vale meant safety, and in this world, that was a rare thing. "Because you're her family. Lana isn't. I trust your aunt to keep her family alive."

"What if I don't like it there?"

"What is this, ask a hundred fucking questions?" he asked, drinking more of his shitty drink.

"Sorry, forgot you don't got a heart," she said, swiping at the brown hair in her eyes.

"If you don't like it then take your stupid coin to Bravos."

"By myself?"

"You really want to travel with me?" he asked, adjusting his legs as this table was too short for him to get comfortable.

"You're right. Might have to kill you eventually."

He laughed. "That'd be my fucking luck. Killed by a little shit like you." She smiled and looked down at her drink. "I'll just go to Bravos alone if I need to. I would have to, anyway."

He didn't answer, as he really didn't know what to do with her. He first took her because he needed the money. But now he just didn't feel right leaving her alone. He didn't know how to handle someone else and their own goals, either. Was he supposed to help her do what she wanted? Or was it best to send her off to family that would ensure he could walk away guilt-free? He immediately thought of Sansa and decided that he had already tried doing what someone else wanted. And look where that got her. Arya would just have to get over it.

Eventually they both grew tired and they retired for the night. They slept in the barn with more hay beds, which wasn't much, but was better than the dirt. While lying on his bed of hay, he pulled out the handkerchief he had tucked away in his armor, touching the silk. He'd need to put this away so it didn't get ruined.

He bet she'd be wearing nice silk dresses when he saw her next.

He'd like to see that.

The smell of salty air was refreshing for Lana. No one batted an eye at her when she boarded the ship at White Harbor. She stood at the edge of the ship, looking out into the vast ocean as waves splashed against the wood, looking up to the cloudy, gray sky. Somehow, she had made it. It was a lonely few weeks, but she was alive.
She hoped Sandor and Arya had made it.

Not a day went by that she didn't think of them.

She really hoped Clegane would make it to her in Meereen. Aside from her unusual interest in him, Clegane felt like the right choice. He knew enough about Westeros to smell their bullshit, and his skill as a warrior nearly unrivaled. Plus, she wanted a Westerosi knight, even if he wasn't a knight. It didn't feel right taking a guard that was an unsullied or Dothraki into lands that would see them as foreigners.

It took another four weeks to travel to Qohor. She made peace with her brotherhood, collected the small bit of coin, and found herself back to shore, sailing to Meereen. It was nearly another three weeks before she saw the pyramids.

Gods, what a transition. From the vast, green world of Westeros to this sea of brown. Humans were so alike, and yet so different.

Lana found her way to land, neared the pyramids, and told the unsullied that she was here to see the queen. Of course, they made her get in line with the rest of the peasants that wanted to see Daenerys. She tried many times to say that Dany was waiting for her and who she was, but when no one listened to her, for a small moment, she worried that the queen had changed her mind.

When she entered the throne room and saw an even paler haired female sitting the throne, Lana knew she had made the right decision to come back.

"Lana," Daenarys said with shock and rose.

"Sorry for the delay, your grace," Lana said, bowing her head.

"I was so worried," she said with a fold of her eyebrows.

"So was I, but I made it," Lana said, still conflicted about leaving Clegane and Arya, but seeing her sister, Selmy, and Jorah made it worth it.

There was still a purpose here.

"Come closer," Daenerys said, and Lana complied. Dany rose from her seat and walked down the many stairs to hug her sister. "I am sorry, your grace, for my smell-" Lana said. Dany was so clean and smelled like oils.

"Nonsense. I have rode with the Dohtraki in the Red Waste. I am just happy that you are alive," she said, pulling back and looking her in the eye. Dany's purple eyes were striking after having not seen them in months, and they were so full of joy. It nearly brought tears to Lana's eyes to have an actual member of her family grateful for her safety.

Lana hugged her sister again, and Daenerys was small in Lana's arms, compared to clinging to Clegane for the last few weeks that she was in Westeros. And in that, Lana's heart nearly sank to her stomach as she realized that Arya would never quite have that again. "You must tell me all about your journey," Dany said with a smile as they parted.

"We have more people to answer to, Khaleesi," Jorah reminded her.

"Then later," Dany said politely.

"I would love that, and to hear all about Meereen."

Dany called out one of her Dothraki haindmaids. "See to it that my sister gets a good bath, some new clothes, and whatever else she needs," Dany said.

"Yes, Khaleesi."

Ser Barriston and Ser Jorah watched on as Lana was led out of the throne room. She was led down magnificent halls and felt warm in her clothes that were not suitable for the climate of Meereen.

Like Dany commanded, Lana was bathed, clothed, and fed. By the time that night fell, Lana was a different person than the one traveling in Westeros, at least visually. She wore a nightly gown made of a thin, pale blue material, her wet hair still at her shoulders.

As Lana sat in her new room, looking over her clean body, and with no dirt under her nails, she wished that Clegane was here. She wanted him to see her when she was clean like a lady. She'd love to tease him with it. She wanted to see his restraint leave him as well, like when they were in the cellar and he was eyeing her. She took a drink of her chalice, swooshing the wine around in her mouth, smiling.

They were an ocean apart, and yet Lana was still thinking of him.

A/N: Don't worry. This isn't a story that separates at this chapter and then forty chapters later they get together. Next chapter they round back together ;D This arc was mostly them meeting and establishing a connection/tension. Next arc we get to see a lot more of the cast, enter into the war with the dead, have a few scenes at Winterfell, fight for the throne, etc, and much more Sandor/Lana, with more of his protective moments coming out (that I know we are all waiting for!) I really wanted the two of them to have a solid base before building more of that tension/romance, and time apart (there will be a big time skip with next chapter) proved to be really fun for them rekindling things and letting them grow, only to realize they really missed the other. I also wanted Clegane to still meet Brienne and take his tumble, as I think it was instrumental in his character development.