Red Keep, deep in the night.
On the steps outside the gates of Maegor's Holdfast, Ser Mutton stared blankly up at the pitch-black night sky.
The sound of boots stepping on stone drew nearer, and the aroma of roast lamb finally brought Mutton somewhat back to his senses.
"You must be hungry, my lord."
The Hound set a basin of roast lamb beside Mutton and sat down himself. He then removed the wineskin from his waist and took a swig.
After a pause, Ser Mutton swallowed the roasted meat he had been chewing and suddenly asked, "How come I didn't see you earlier?"
The Hound fell silent for a moment before answering, "Any normal woman runs away when she sees my face."
Half of Sandor Clegane's face was almost entirely warped by scars, and Mutton could not help but feel sympathy for him.
He said earnestly, "Sandor, scars are a warrior's medals."
Hearing that, Sandor silently watched Mutton stuff another large piece of meat into his mouth, feeling a faint trace of guilt over having "retreated" on his own earlier.
As he ate, Mutton continued to console him. "Don't worry. Maybe you'll meet an abnormal woman who likes you."
The Hound: "..."
An abnormal woman...
A small red-haired, blue-eyed face flashed through Sandor's mind, only to vanish in an instant.
"Don't comfort people in the future. That is my sincere advice." Patting Mutton's shoulder with his large hand, Sandor rose and left.
Watching his retreating back, Ser Mutton scratched his cheek in confusion.
Maegor's Holdfast, the King's Bedchamber.
Wrapped in a blanket, Daenerys leaned dreamily against Gryn's chest as they sat quietly before the fireplace. The flickering flames cast a faint blush over her fair skin.
Feeling Gryn's strong heartbeat, she said hoarsely, "Dear, I'm tired."
Gryn's fingertips traced