The whole time you had been with child... he wasn't exactly excited.

The life he lives, has lived. It was no place fit for a babe. To welcome another Clegane into this world. It was madness to him.

But he loved you nonetheless. Somewhere in his hurt heart, it had room for you. After he left King's Landing he'd brought you with him. Married you properly like he should.

Now, your life was in the Westerlands. In Clegane's Keep.

And after hours of laboring, you had given birth to a child. His child. Your child.

His son.

It didn't go particularly well, his stature making the babe a little behemoth in his own right. But you loved your boy all the same.

Sandor hadn't come to visit you for... well, a few hours after the fact. He was scared, but he'd never admit such a thing.

So when he finally entered the room, trudging towards you. His eyes settled on you and the babe.

"You... you've done well." He murmured, swallowing heavily. You offered the babe to him, and he accepted him. Cradling him in his large arms.

In that moment, you could see the Hound soften.