A/N: I moved the scene from him getting bitten and to the inn around.

The night had come and gone, and the trio was off again on their journey to the Eyrie, which was still weeks away.

They had come across a small farming village that had been razed, and in a way, she was grateful for the distraction. They got off their horses to look around. Lana rummaged through a house of an older man that was currently dying from his wounds. Clegane and Arya were tending to him while Lana salvaged the area. She picked up a ceramic cup to see that it was covered in soot. She threw it down, the sound of it crashing contrasting the birds and leaves blowing around.

Then she heard Arya scream and Clegane yell with a ferocity she had yet to hear from him. "What the fuck are you doing?" She turned around to see that Clegane was holding his neck and a fat, ugly man was looking at them both with a bloody grin.

"There's a bounty on your head," he said, looking at Clegane.

"Guess that's what happens when you tell the king to fuck off."

"King is dead. Died at his wedding drinking poisoned wine."

Clegane looked to Arya then back to the man. "He on your little list?" Clegane asked Arya.

"Can't be. I don't know his name," Arya said, like a dog staring at a raw steak.

"What's your name?" Clegane asked, still gripping his neck.

"Rorge."

"Thank you," Arya said and stabbed him in the heart with one of Lana's blades that she now carried.

"You're learning," Clegane said an ounce of pride, looking at his bloodied hand from his wound.

Lana went over to him. "What happened," she said, eyeing his dirty neck that was now covered in blood.

"Bit me. Just a flea bite," he said and walked forward, ignoring her concern. "We can look at it later."

They finished looking around the homes, finding very little other than blackened, smoldering remains. They eventually got back on their horses and continued their journey.

When they came across an open field, that probably belonged to a grazing farmer from the village that was ash and rubble, they decided to stop early for the night. It would be best to sit somewhere out in the open to see someone coming, as Clegane needed to remove his armor to look at his bite. The grass in the field blew in the wind, creating waves of white as the green bent over, the jagged, giant rocks from the Earth sprouting around.

He removed everything, only leaving his tunic, trousers, and boots, and Lana shamelessly looked. There were scars that interrupted the hair on his chest, and even with him being lean from travel and lack of nutrition, he was still a thick, broad man. She wondered what he looked like when he was serving under Joffrey and probably at his thickest. There was something to a robust, angry, ruthless man that riled something deep in a woman like Lana. She knew it was because he didn't seem to kill for utterly no reason, which meant there was a trust to be found, somewhere deep in there.

It was a trust someone like her desperately wanted to win.

Lana began to cut away at pieces of her handmaid's dress while him and Arya spoke. He grew angry when Arya suggested using fire to burn away a nasty bit of his wound. Lana eventually stopped to look at them both and listen in.

It would seem that the attempt to use fire on him, the complete failure to properly ransom Arya, the moral conundrum of what to do with her now, paired with all three of them being people that couldn't be found, finally revealed to be a heavy level of stress for him. Then, it somehow turned into a conversation about how he got his scar, and how his brother held him in the fire for only playing with one of his toys. Lana felt very out of place, like she shouldn't have heard any of that, as it was clearly a conversation between a hound and a wolf.

Then again, he knew Lana could hear.

Clegane looked to Arya and said, "Your family may be gone, but they gave you a reason to miss them. Me? My brother gave me this." He pointed as his face, and then looked back at his hands, then out into the lands beyond. "You think you're on your own?"

He looked back at his hands, mindlessly handling the needle from Lana's pack.

Lana slowly looked down to the grass. He was a lonely fucker, and he just admitted it. But the reality about him was still there. He was a ruthless man who had been jaded by the world, which meant he was still dangerous. He had proven that he was not above brutality to get his way in the world. Someone like him had unpredictable motives, and she finally realized that that's why she couldn't figure him out.

Either way, her getting to know who he really was turned out to be a lot darker, and sadder, then she initially thought.

"Let one of us help you, at the very least," Arya said.

It took a while, but he finally nodded.

"You good at sewing?" Arya asked Lana.

"I can sew wounds. What of you? Don't ladies practice that all the time?"

"I always got yelled at for it. Best if you do it. I'll go get fresh water for us, since we need to use what we got for his shoulder," she said and walked to the stream nearby with an empty bucket.

Lana breathed in deep, an excited nervousness in her chest as she realized she'd get to be close to him. He seemed more like a real person now, after his little speech. And even though he did have a callous nature, she knew it had been completely fostered by his brother, family and the Lannisters, bastardizing whatever good remained in him. She walked over to him and took the needle from his hand, washed out the wound, and stood in front of him to get the better angle. She was close enough that she felt the warmth of his unarmored body. He wasn't very receptive to any of it, however, looking away most of the time. She used some of the ripped handmaid's dress to wipe away at it, and his body tensed every time she did.

It was hard remaining excited about him as she stared at the wound, dulling any appetite of hers. Getting stabbed was always painful, but getting one's body pierced by something as blunt as human teeth was always worse. She went back to her bag and grabbed some honey before starting the stitching.

"The fuck is that for?" he asked in a miserable tone.

"It's supposed to help with healing. Since we can't burn it, you need something."

He languidly blinked and looked away, faintly nodding. "Going to stitch it now," she warned as she got ready to start the process. He grunted in reply. She sewed at the skin and he grimaced most of the time, but he didn't move. She tried to move as skillfully as possible to minimize any agony.

And even though she was focusing on this, and staring at a nasty wound, she did enjoy their proximity. She liked being so close to someone like him, his sheer size encompassing her as she stood between his legs. He kept his head averted away, and that was for the better, as her chest was quite close to his face. She half expected some kind of comment throughout, but it never came. Once she was done, she put the honey on the cut up fabric and placed it over his wound, hoping the stickiness would keep it in place, and that the honey would help his body fight any infection. "There, that's the best that I can do for now," she said with a gentle tone.

He finally looked at her, and in their eye contact, it became apparent just how close they actually were. She was able to see details in his face for the first time. It didn't seem to go unnoticed by him either, and where she had tried to be nice to him, it seemed he was not willing to reciprocate. "Oh, there's plenty more that you could do. But this works for now. Now back the fuck off before I decide to act on any ideas running through my head."

Her instinct ignited as she smacked him on his shoulder, an incredulous, half smile on her face. As soon as her hand made contact, which barely did anything to him, he clasped her wrist. She tried to yank her hand away, but it was apparent that she wouldn't get it back until he decided to give it back.

"I don't like people touching me, let alone smacking me," he warned. She tried to take a step back, but his leg was on the back of her thigh. She breathed heavily as she glared at him.

Her own audacity seized her, as she knew he was trying to make her uncomfortable. He always did that when he wanted someone to leave him alone, and after his little speech, and her kinder tone, she bet it was all too much for him. But she was not about to let him get away with that. "If I can't touch you, then how can I do more for you, Clegane?" she asked, making sure there was a flirtatiousness in her voice he couldn't ignore. If he was willing to say things that made her uncomfortable, she'd do it right back.

His entire expression changed to an unyielding glower, his jaw gently jutting out to one side before he said with a rasp, "If you're looking for a fuck, then just say the words. I'll tie up the wolf girl and leave her by the stream so I can properly fuck you for as long as I want."

She sucked her bottom lip to her upper teeth. Oh, she'd show him how wrong he was for thinking that scared her. Lana was more like the women from the Iron Islands, rather than the florid castles of noble ladies that he was used to scaring. "Even if I were looking for you to fuck me," she said, his eyes latching to her with a ferocity that was both sexual and full of indignation. "You can't have it. Got my maidenhead still. Can't just give that away in the grasslands of wherever the fuck we are. I am to become a lady. I will probably need that for marriage," she said, pretending like it meant anything to her.

She tried to pull her wrist from him once more, but he gripped it harder, not caring that it hurt her. He snickered as he returned the same devilry in his eyes. "Like you still got it."

She tutted. A part of her burned to have him touch her more, but his continued disregard made her want to make him writhe. "If you manage to fuck me before anyone else, you'll find that I bleed. My order liked my virtue, and made sure that I kept it. So yes, I still got it," she said curtly.

He scoffed, his arrogance and amusement returning. "You don't seem like a virgin in the fucking least. I should know. Fucked quite a few."

She shrugged a shoulder. "I'm pretty much not, except for that one part of me," she said with a half smile, attempting to pull her hand away again with more of a jerk, leaning into his leg. He didn't let go, and when his gaze moved to the side, Lana followed it. Arya was now approaching with a bucket full of water, carefully balancing it so as not to spill it.

His grip remained firm on Lana, and he pulled her closer, a threat in his eyes. "I haven't fucked in months. Keep toying with me woman, and I'll make sure that gets changed," he said and let go of her.

She smiled at him with a huff.

Dammit.

She didn't want to smile. Recover, Storm. Don't let him win. "I don't know. You bashed my skull in twice and left me with a tree. Maybe I want to watch you squirm a bit," she said and turned around, completely flustered, taking in deep breathes, angry, sexually frustrated, and in awe of what just happened.

This journey, she felt, was about to get very interesting. With his insistent hatred for the world and others, coupled with her tenacity and need to win, she wondered just how long it would last before something happened between them, good or bad.

Clegane watched Lana walk back to her bag, his eyes devouring her shape more than before. So far, he had tried to ignore her in that regard, as she was a shapely woman. He didn't want to stress his balls out.

But now the mad bitch was openly taunting him, practically dangling her sex before him.

How the fuck was he supposed to handle that? Most women fled in fear when he acted like a dick, something he did when he wanted to be left alone. Sure, there were always the share of women that lusted after a man like him, as some women just had a thing for that. But this woman was different. She was of an order, somewhere in Essos, that specialized in murder. Even if she were a virgin, everything else about her wasn't. This was a woman who knew how to manipulate.

And in all his threats, she didn't give a shit about any of them. He didn't like when someone didn't take his threats seriously, as that was a sure way to piss him off.

But that smile she gave, at the very end...that was not intended. That was genuine. Some part of her, somewhere, enjoyed him.

He huffed and held down a laugh, rolling his aching shoulder forward. He looked at Arya, and wondered if the little wolf girl hadn't been here, what exactly would have happened between him and this supposed virgin assassin he was traveling with.

He looked back at Lana, who thanked the Stark girl for fetching the water.

One thing was for certain, he'd take Lana and fucking wreck her between her legs if he ever got the chance.