It's stupid; she's a stupid girl though.
Sansa had wondered if it had been a horrid dream, worse than the ones Old Nan filled Bran's head with, but Sansa never would had dreamt such things. Queens were kind not two faced, Joffery was suppose to be a gallant prince not the person Sansa needed saving from, and the dog with old burn scars wasn't suppose to be the closet thing a knight should have been even though the man had never taken the vows to be one. (But why should he? Ser Gregor Clegane had taken such vows but that didn't mean he upheld them, that he was a true knight.)
Arya was thrashing wildly about in her bed but not a sound was released from her lips. Sansa leaned over, the wood of the bed digging into her chemise and unbruised skin, and had to grab a hold to Arya's little wrists so not to be struck.
A part of Sansa wanted Arya or anyone - even Jon who despite taking the black must have heard something- to remember what haunted Sansa day and night. Another part of her did not dare wish it because dying was not something Sansa wanted Arya or father to remember. One did not come back from the dead as they once were; Sansa had not died despite the abuse she endured even with the mantra she clung to (a lady's armor is courtesy), but that did not mean she was the same naive girl who had left Winterfell.
Arya was slow on waking up, her eyes squinted up at Sansa when she did awoke.
"Sansa?" Her sister croaked out, Arya's voice had confusion and grief in it. Sansa's heart stopped before feeling like it belonged to a startled rabbit than hers.
Sansa's shock was enough for Arya to get out of the loose grip that had held her wrists. Immediately Arya slammed into her and hugged her tightly so. That was something she never done before and perhaps knowing that and why Arya was acting so made hot, fresh tears trickle down Sansa's cheeks. And here Sansa thought there were no more tears she could shed.
"Oh, Arya," Sansa whispered into the roughly scrubbed clean scalp of her sister's dark and tangled hair.
"They killed him," Arya told Sansa. The desperate words were whispered in her chest and Arya's short nails dug into her but Sansa paid the pain no mind; pain was unwanted but none the less there companion that Sansa had learnt to endure. That and there were far more important things to dwell on.
"I know," Sansa reassured Arya. It was comforting and terrifying at the same breath to know she wasn't insane nor alone. "I begged Joffrey in court to grant father mercy and he took his head. He told me that was a traitor's mercy and he made me look at it and Septa's.
Arya stiffened under her arms. There was silence untill Arya spoke in a harsh whisper. "I'll kill Joffrey with needle."
"No," Sansa told her despite how she had thought of pushing Joffrey to his death herself. "Father will or Robb shall. It isn't stupid that you wish to defend yourself but I won't have you do that."
Arya was shaking her head against the
warm chemise Sansa wore. "I forgot," she sobbed. "I forgot all of my dancing master's training I was so scared. I stuck that boy with the pointy end like Jon said."
"I rather it had been him then you," and those were harsh words but none the less true. Sansa had learnt the world was harsh and not like the songs she knew. That however did not mean that courtesy was not a lady's armor. Sansa had smiled and twirped oh so sweetly to survive in the golden cruel cage that was King's Landing.
There was silence besides the warm water rushing through the stone walls of their home. Eventually Arya calmed down and when she did she broke from Sansa's arms. Her eyes were red but her jaw was as stubborn as father's.
"No," Arya voiced, "we pass the sentence and I shall swing the sword."
"It's not that simple Arya, but we shall figure it out."
A/N: Originally posted on ao3 under the pen name youngjusticewriter.
I wanted one time travel fic where Sansa and Arya are both vauled. They are both their own person who are enduring more than they should. They are strong but they aren't okay.
Those things and they're both planning Joffrey's murder. Maybe something ironic like Joffrey "falling" off a tower...
I'm in the beginning of Clash of Kings and I wanted to write this because I love both Stark sisters and they deserve better. I hope I didn't make them ooc.
This is my first time writing them and this fandom so what do you think?
Edit: I'm sorry about the missing words. I don't know why but sometimes when I post a fic (or actually it's been chapters in the past) some words just disappear.