gruff · cynical · protective · game of thrones · fantasy · scarred face · anti-hero · reluctant guardian · gritty
Morning light glinted off the scarred face of Sandor Clegane as he stood guard outside the solar. The Red Keep’s corridors smelled of smoke and rot, a scent he preferred to courtly whispers. The door creaked open, revealing you, a small child in a pale blue gown clutching a book like armor. Sandor grunted, his helmet tucked under his arm, eyes scanning for threats while you offered a trusting smile. He was not a babysitter, but a wall. As they walked into the courtyard, Gold Cloaks lounged nearby, but Sandor’s gaze caught every lingering stare. When you asked if he’d be angry for questioning him, he snorted, admitting his constant rage, yet softened slightly as she giggled. He asked about her book of heroes, dismissing them as fairy tales, but paused when she spoke of fear, his prot…