Bolton Rising Part 59 - Sandor

"Could you have made a more rocky landing there, Arryn?" the Hound growled at the pilot as Littlefinger's private helicopter touched down on the penthouse's helipad. "Sorry sir. The winds are always tricky up here at the Eyrie." He gave a boyish grin back with his reply, which Sandor only found more annoying than reassuring.

"Leave him be, Clegane. We all arrived in one piece and for that, I'm glad to be home," Petyr chastised softly, while his Dog gave a dark scowl and opened the door for him.

"You treat him like a boy still suckling his mother's tit. He could have gotten us all killed. Or do you fancy another trip to the hospital, Mockingbird?" Sandor pressed while helping Alayne out of the helicopter, sheltering the girl with his body as the high winds whipped about them.

"Hardly, Clegane." Petyr smirked while pulling his coat up. "Come... let us continue this discussion inside. I'm tired and I want to relax with my Little Bird." Baelish held out his hand to Alayne, guiding her away from his Dog. "Besides, you have more urgent business to attend to." Alayne looked into the Hound's dark eyes as she stepped down onto the tarmac, her heart sinking into her stomach, as it did every time their eyes locked. Taking Petyr's hand, she followed along after him, allowing him to sweep her along in his wake as he gave instructions over his shoulder.

"Aye. I'll be heading out right now," Sandor replied in a clipped tone as his fingers slipped through Alayne's with a sense of pained loss. Nevertheless, he stood there like a fierce guardian, on alert and making sure the pair was safely inside the penthouse before he headed out to collect and secure the Mockingbird's interests.

With his black Mustang fired up, Clegane drove all over the city from one meeting to the next, kicking down a door or two, and sometimes knocking a few teeth loose to make sure the point was made that his boss, Petyr Baelish, was still running this city, both in the public eye and from the shadows as its major Kingpin. Everywhere Sandor went in the underground network, he heard tales about the devastating attack on Ramsay Bolton's compound, his imprisonment and the unknown fates of his Bastard Boys. Even he had to admit Littlefinger's bold move against the Bastard of Bolton had been impressive and game changing. Yet more curious to the Hound's ears was the odd whispers of his brother Gregor Clegane's sudden disappearance and the ridiculous rumors of a rescue mission.

He couldn't be that thick headed... Sandor reflected, sitting in his car hours after his last stop and staring at his brother's home from behind locked gates, looking for signs of the Mountain. His brother's monstrous truck was nowhere to be seen, yet someone was definitely inside, letting a pack of dogs out to piss and calling them back in. Clegane fetched his cell and began to dial, letting the number ring until he saw a feminine silhouette pass across the curtained windows and finally pick up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Where is he?" the Hound growled over the woman's soft voice.

"Who is this?" Melly asked, although without knowing how, she already knew who it was on the other end of the line. Perhaps it was the man's tone, or the roughness in his voice. Perhaps it was simply that she could sense something in this man's essence, a similarity to Gregor that neither Clegane would be willing to admit to. "You're his brother..." she said, answering her own question and knowing she was correct.

There was a pause. She thought she must have taken him off guard for a moment, but then the deep voice growled again with more menace, "Where is he, woman?"

Melly knew very little about the bad blood between the Clegane brothers. It wasn't something that Gregor was willing to discuss, even with her. She knew that the trouble between them could be traced back to their childhood. However, she had never learned what had caused their lifelong hatred of one another. She knew that Gregor's brother, Sandor Clegane, was called "The Hound" by some. He was younger than her husband, and although not as big as Gregor, he was supposed to be a huge man himself. Melly had never met the Hound's employer , Petyr Baelish, either. However, she understood that Sandor's role in the Mockingbird's organization was similar to that of her husband's to Ramsay Bolton. If so, she knew he must be a dangerous man, indeed.

"I couldn't tell you where he is. If only I knew," she responded. "But I don't. He's been gone for a few days now, with no word." Her voice cracked a little as she spoke. With no word... Her stomach rolled and her heart ached. She knew that the way Gregor had left her, he'd thought he might not be coming back. "I'm sorry..."

"Or perhaps you're lying to cover up for that monster. If I broke in there right now, I could make you tell me everything I wanted to know," Sandor snapped, crushing the cell in his hand, irritated by this woman's clear affection for his brother. To think that someone would actually shed tears for Gregor! A wife no less. "I'll ask you again, woman, and you better give me an answer or I will show you what the Mountain does to people close to him! Tell me where my brother has gone!"

She felt a chill at his words, as though his hatred just blew over her like a cold wind. Walking through the hall to the front door and checking the deadbolt, she answered, "It would do you no good. I only wish I knew where he is." A deadbolt would not keep Gregor from entering, nor would their alarm system. She feared that this would be true of his brother as well. She moved quickly through the big house to check the kitchen door. The caller ID had said "Anonymous Mobile." The man could be right outside the house as she spoke to him. "Please... I don't know."

The Hound tossed his cell aside, letting the line go dead on its own with an ominous dial tone. He revved up his black Mustang and charged towards the gates, battering them down like a trampling stallion on a war path. The rumbling car went flying up the driveway, before fish-tailing to a sudden stop right at the main entrance, spraying gravel everywhere. I warned you... Sandor checked his loaded gun and stepped out, stomped up the stairs, then crashed through the door to face off with a pack of growling dogs.

She stood frozen, holding the phone, dial tone buzzing in her ear. At the sound of the car breaking down the gates, Melly turned and ran, flying up the back staircase and down the hallway, slamming the door to the master bedroom behind her. Her hands shook as she turned the lock, and the sound of the front door breaking open caused her to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. He can't hurt me any worse than Ramsay already has, she thought, frantically hitting the speed dial button for Gregor's cell. The dogs barked and snarled on the floor below as she waited, the phone ringing and ringing. Voicemail. "I need you," She whispered, before disconnecting. She dropped the phone, pushing her dresser toward the bedroom door.

After tangling with the dogs, killing one vicious bastard and corralling the rest back into a side room, Sandor headed upstairs, his boots pounding heavily on the wood. "Sooner or later I will catch you," he growled, reaching the bedroom and ramming into the barricaded door with his shoulder, flinging the dresser across the room like it weighed nothing as the door came off its hinges. The Hound lunged forward, grasping the frightened woman around the neck with his scarred hand and pinned her up against the wall, sneering into her face. "Look at me!" Sandor snapped, baring his teeth. "Look really good. Those are the tokens of brotherly love Gregor gave me!" He yanked at the collar to his coat and shirt, exposing more scarring down the side of his face and neck.

There had been a gunshot, just one, and Melly cringed, knowing that at least one of the dogs had been taken down. When the footsteps pounded closer, she felt tears stinging her eyes and she backed up as far as she could go, until she found herself pressed up against the far wall of the room. There was no escaping, she knew, and as the door splintered, the tears began to fall. Her first impression of Sandor Clegane was of speed and strength. The heavy wooden dresser crashed into the bed, and then he was there, and upon her. His huge hand at her throat caused her to gasp as she looked up at the Hound with large, frightened eyes, taking in his scars, her stomach aching in fear, and something else... As terrified as she was, she could see the hurt in his eyes and her heart ached for him. "I'm so sorry..."

"You're sorry?" Sandor barked back in disbelief, glaring at the woman he found far too attractive to be shacked up with his brute of a brother. "Listen well, woman. The only one who will be killing the Mountain is me! That's my vengeance to claim. No one will steal that pleasure from me." He smirked darkly, before releasing her from his threatening grasp and he gave the trembling woman a look over. "Be glad I'm not a rapist or I would enjoy myself just to bring pain to his world." Clegane turned without another word and headed back out the way he came, stepping over the pool of blood from the dead dog. He climbed back into his Mustang and tore off down the road.

When Melly had looked up into the big man's dark eyes, she saw years of pain and anger reflecting back at her. She was related to this man now, by marriage, and he had vowed to murder her husband, his brother. When he stepped away, she stared at him in disbelief. He was not going to rape her? Relief flooded through her body and she sagged against the wall. She'd fully expected to be raped by this man, perhaps even killed, and yet he did not harm her. He strode across the room and exited through the remains of the bedroom door. Melly's knees gave way and she slid down the wall, crumbling to the floor in a heap. The tears flowed and flowed as she curled there in the fetal position, sobs racking her body. She cried not so much for herself, but for her love.  She knew that Sandor Clegane was telling the truth. He would kill Gregor someday, or die trying.