( I wonder what face he made — believe it or not, for just a fleeting moment there, something like mirth ghosts through Sandor's expression. It's in the corners of his eyes, in the quirk of one side of his mouth. Blink and you'll miss it. If she manages to spot it, it'll probably make it very clear that the King's face had been fucking priceless.
He snorts gently. )
If my life were my own, I wouldn't be fucking here, would I?
( Not like he made the choice to come walking through that fucking portal. He's still being jerked around now.
But in truth, he's not so sure he knows about whether or not his life was his before the mages pulled him through. He devoted it almost immediately to someone else as soon as he left King's Landing. Then again, that was very much his own choice, wasn't it? Perhaps he just doesn't know how to function without serving as someone else's guard dog. )
no subject
He snorts gently. )
If my life were my own, I wouldn't be fucking here, would I?
( Not like he made the choice to come walking through that fucking portal. He's still being jerked around now.
But in truth, he's not so sure he knows about whether or not his life was his before the mages pulled him through. He devoted it almost immediately to someone else as soon as he left King's Landing. Then again, that was very much his own choice, wasn't it? Perhaps he just doesn't know how to function without serving as someone else's guard dog. )