Sansa slowly slid out from underneath the sheets, stepping onto the cold floor of her room. In nothing but her shift, she walked barefoot to the balcony her chambers offered. It was night time, but she had laid in bed awake for at least two hours. She can't remember the last time she slept fitfully.
Every time she closed her eyes, images of seeing her father being beheaded haunted her. His head being held up for the crowd to see, his head being placed onto the spike, his head for Joffrey to torment her…then she would see Robb's head, Mother's head, Arya's head, Bran's head, Rickon's head, and even Jon's head next to Father's and she would scream. Lady, her direwolf, would frequent her nightmares as well for if she had told the truth, she would be alive. I was so foolish, naive…gods, what was I thinking?
She remembered thinking ill of Arya for not being a "proper" lady but now all she wanted was to hug her sister and never let go. She didn't know where she was, but the chances of Arya being alive were slim. Still, Arya was not like Sansa. She wasn't stuck here with Joffrey and Cersei.
The two loved reminding her that she was nothing but a prisoner, a hostage. Joffrey had her beat every time Robb had a victory, which was often. He didn't even do it himself, he would have a member of the Kingsguard do it. Cersei would act motherly but the look in her eyes said otherwise. She wouldn't even blink upon ordering her death. The people around the keep weren't any better. They would look at her with mocking sympathy and call her the traitor's daughter.
It never failed to amuse Sansa that Sandor Clegane, the Hound, was the only honest one around here. He was a skilled killer like his brother and had the manners of well…a hound. He even looked menacing but he was the only one to be honest with her, and to show her a small act of kindness. While he did taunt her by calling her "Little Bird", it was something she could appreciate.
Sansa suddenly clenched her fists, thinking of her nickname. Everyone seemed to love to compare her to a songbird, and they weren't completely unjustified. Every time she forced herself to call her father a traitor, to call her family traitors, she was singing her little song. With every tweet, no one saw a wolf to be cautious of or to admire. They saw a caged songbird doing whatever it's told. Deep down, Sansa wanted to rip the heads off of every bird she saw now. It infuriated her now to see songbirds chirping their songs blissfully, unaware of the danger around them. More importantly, she wanted to skin the lions taunting her. Wear their furs, not to show her wealth or that she was a Lannister. She wanted to show the skins of what she had killed.
Revenge. That was what she had wanted. Yet, how would a little girl like her get that? She wasn't Robb who had an army with him. She wasn't a warrior, she wasn't trained to be in this situation. She vaguely became aware of tears slowing sliding down her cheeks.
Suddenly feeling a sob tear itself from her throat, Sansa collapsed to her knees and gripped the railing. Her body shook as tears splattered onto the stone. What am I supposed to do? Damn it, why won't the gods answer me for once? Clasping her hands together, she tried praying once again. To the old gods and new, but they never answered. She still had to wake up to this living hell King's Landing offered!
Cease your crying, the gods of this land will never hear you. I, however, will.
A deep baritone voice entered her thoughts, echoing as if it came from all directions. She couldn't resist looking around, only to see no one. It was coming from the inside of her head, but it didn't ease her nerves. Were her prayers being answered?
I've been watching you, and I've heard your pleas for blood and revenge. Justice if you want it to sound pretty. Pledge yourself to me and you will have it, along with power men could only dream of.
"Who are you?" Sansa quickly asked, and thinking better of it, asked another question. "What do you want from me in return?" she's picked up on a few things in King's Landing. Nothing was free, even if it was supposedly a "god" offering. Then again, she feels odd about how she isn't screaming from this voice's appearance. Perhaps she's finally been driven to madness.
The voice laughed. It wasn't a friendly laugh and it made chills run down Sansa's spine.
You are not going mad…yet.
I am Jashin, the only god you will ever need. The reason you do not fear my presence is because you have a thirst for blood, I can quench it. I see it in you, the darkest parts of you wish to release the wolf within. Do you wish to be a caged birdy forever, tweeting and chirping as you please your captors? Or do you want to be a true wolf, mauling and hunting prey like a true predator?
Give me your eternal loyalty, and I will give you eternal power.
It sounded deliciously sweet to her. This…god was offering her what she wanted, all he required was her loyalty. However the way he said "eternal" was off. It was as if he truly meant it, as if she was going to live forever in his service. A part of her hesitated. This sinister presence was everything she knew her father stood against. This wasn't a god you would pray to for a good harvest, or for mercy. This god was the kind that you wanted to pray to before a violent battle.
Sansa would have never stood for this. She would flinch at the thought of herself being a predator. She never saw herself taking a life because she couldn't stomach it. But yet…now…
Sansa reflected on everything that has happened to her family. These monsters walking in human form didn't feel queasy hurting her. In fact, she was an easy target due to her softness. No more she suddenly resolved. The faces of her family flashed through her mind. For them she concluded. Picturing Joffrey and Cersei's blood on her hands, as well as being surrounded by the dead bodies of the noble men and women of the court. Dead songbirds scattered around her as Lady held one in her jaw tightly, blood dripping down slowly. For me.
The old Sansa would never. The current Sansa was a different story. If I must become a monster that looks like a girl, I shall.
"I give myself to you, my lord."
It was this night that Sansa Stark sold her soul to Jashin. With a whisper, he accepted her pledge and soul greedily.
You're mine she-wolf
Robb had never been more confused as he had been when he walked into the throne room.
After coming to an agreement with Stannis Baratheon and joining forces, they had taken King's Landing and stormed through the city. Tywin Lannister was in chains while Jaime laid dead. Robb was late in finding Stannis who had went to claim his rightful throne but the sight made him pause.
The first thing anyone noticed was Cersei shouting madness with one of Stannis's men holding her. She looked furious but…terrified. The worse part was that he couldn't even make out what she was saying. Tommen looked scared but Davos Seaworth had pulled him aside, a hand on the boy's shoulder. Robb felt pity for the little boy. His brother was a vicious cunt while his sister was off in Dorne, leaving him alone with his mother who, by the looks of it, finally snapped. The reason for her shrieking was due to Joffrey who laid limp, just a few feet away from the Iron Throne. A sword, presumed to be his, laid close by. A layer of blood was caked onto it, all the way to the hilt.
Upon closer inspection, his face had been twisted into one of pain and horror. A bloody wound in his throat revealed the cause of his death. Robb immediately looked at Stannis to see if he was responsible for the bastard's death but Stannis seemed to know what he was asking. The man shook his head and gestured towards a girl with Tully red hair.
Robb finally noticed Sansa.
She stood close to Joffrey and he noted with horror the blood staining the front of her dress. "Sansa!" he rush to her and Cersei finally silenced as she looked at them with hatred. His fear increased as he noticed the cut in her dress, implying she had been stabbed. However if she had been stabbed, she should be dead or on the floor unable to stand. After all, it looked as if she was stabbed in the stomach. She didn't seem affected though and smiled as he stared at her abdomen.
"I'm okay Robb." She said gently, as if talking to a child. A dagger was clutched in her hand and there was blood on it too. It was partially on her sleeve as well. It didn't take Robb long to connect the pieces.
"I walk in here expecting a fight only to see the bastard already dead, with her standing over him." Stannis spoke up. The man was disturbed at the fact that Sansa had clearly been stabbed but unaffected. If he had known he would have found this, he would have had Melisandre brought here. This was unnatural.
"She should be dead!" Cersei shouted, trying to wrestle away from the grip the soldier had on her. "My son stabbed her with that sword but she's still alive!" When the men looked at her, accusing her of madness, she looked at Sansa. She had to be a demon, she had to be a monster. Not even the kind that already lived here in this city.
"Your traitor brother is at the gates, along with my traitor uncle." Joffrey growled, pointing his sword at her. Heart-eater, what a stupid name for a sword. "Before I kill the both of them, I'm going to show Robb Stark your pretty little head." He threatened, stepping closer to her. Cersei was close by along with Tommen.
Sansa didn't feel fear. In her sleeve was a dagger she kept with her during the last few months. She grew quite experienced with it too, as she carefully did her rituals for Jashin. First, it had been a handmaiden who spied on her for Cersei. "Accidentally" pricking the woman with a needle while sewing wasn't too hard. Then it had been Maester Pycelle, Lancel Lannister, and Meryn Trant. There were others, but she didn't bother recalling their faces or names. They had been Lannister lap dogs, so they died like dogs.
Twisting words she had said to Joffrey when he showed her Father's head, she tilted her head and looked at him with disdain. "Or maybe I'll show him yours." She had started walking towards him and he panicked, not used to her sudden show of bravery. He thrusted his sword forward and to be quite honest she could have easily dodged it. However she wanted to see real fear in his eyes so instead, she kept walking. Right into the sword. He was satisfied for a split second until he realized she kept coming closer, slowly sliding up the sword. His eyes went wide with fear. He couldn't even form words as she came up all the way to the hilt.
She didn't bother to pay attention to Cersei and Tommen's screams. Letting the dagger slip into her hand from her sleeve, she grabbed Joffrey's hair with her free hand. He squirmed, trying to get away from her but his efforts were futile. She yanked his head to the side as she drove the dagger into his throat.
She could hear Jashin laughing madly in her mind, approving immensely. Send him to me, she-wolf his voice echoed as Joffrey choked on his own blood. With his words, she twisted the knife as the light slowly faded from Joffrey's green eyes. Her god purred in delight.
Those who had been there in the Throne room swore to keep quiet about what really went down. They passed off Sansa's survival as a blessing from the gods or Lord of Light if one was to ask Melisandre. The priestess had looked at Sansa curiously but when she looked into the girl's eyes she stepped away instantly.
The cover was that Stannis himself killed Joffrey in order to keep attention away from Sansa. It also made him the victor of a war between kings, it sounded better that way for the songs.
Cersei was executed while Tommen along with Mycrella became wards of the Crown. The boy had sworn to secrecy out of fear for his life. The remaining Lannister, Tyrion, was allowed to live after Sansa spoke up for him.
Only Stannis, Robb, Davos, the soldier who held back Cersei, and Sansa herself knew the truth.
Now the girl sat in her chambers in Winterfell, gently stroking Arya's hair as the girl fell asleep cuddled close to her sister. After a tearful reunion, Sansa told her what really happened to the bastard born of incest. Her sister had suffered from the vicious cunt too, she deserved to know the truth. While she felt robbed, Arya was happy nonetheless and even proud of her sister.
Sansa looked down at Arya sadly, knowing she was going to have to leave soon. Sansa was going to pay the price of the victory she had gotten. She would stop aging when she turned eighteen, average age that a woman stops growing. Jashin had been considerate enough to not let her be trapped in a child's body forever, but she had sold her soul to him.
In order to save her family's honor, she would leave Westeros so she could continue to serve her god. This was the price and she was going to keep her promise. A Stark kept their word.
Laughing could be heard as Sansa finally went to sleep, holding her amulet in one hand and her sister with the other.
You're mine she-wolf, for eternity.
A/N: I already love the Dark!Sansa theme so after re-watching some Naruto, I had fun toying with this idea. This was all written by a sleep-deprived teenager so sorry if my writing isn't the greatest quality. I'll try re-writing one day if it turns out everyone wants this to burn XD. Anyways, I'll write one more chapter with a appearance of certain Akatsuki members just for fun. Thanks for reading! 3
