Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire. It belongs to GRRM.
Author's Note: This is number 30 in my one-word prompt series, and to make it extra special, it's a chap-fic! AU Tywin/Sansa. No real warnings as of yet, but the rating can change at my whim (FEAR ME FOR I AM BECOME FIC-AUTHOR, THE DESTROYER OF HOPES AND DREAMS!).
*ahem*
This fic is a WIP, but it's close to being done. I don't really have a schedule for uploading/updating because I am busy with a bunch of grading and working on my own assignments, so I'll just play it by ear. Please enjoy!
Chapter 1: In which Sansa receives some distressing news.
Sansa stared at the plastic stick with mounting horror.
Positive.
She was pregnant.
No, she wasn't just pregnant; she was pregnant with the child of her lover, Tywin Lannister.
She felt her knees give, and seconds later, the rest of her followed until she was sprawled on the tile floor of her bathroom. The words kept parading through her head: positive, pregnant, Tywin. Gods, this is a disaster of epic proportions. I'm too young, too unmarried, and too much a Stark to have a Lannister child.
That thought gave her pause. An abortion would solve her problem quite neatly, but try as she might, Sansa could not see herself walking into a clinic and doing away with the thing that would become her child.
Warm, wet lines began trailing down her face, and she knew that that was not the only reason why she wanted to keep the baby: it would be the only thing she had of Tywin. Because she couldn't stay with him now that she knew.
Tywin was many things: ruthless CEO, power-hungry tyrant, and fierce protector of his legacy. Sansa was well aware that the children he already had were mere pawns in the games that he played, and the one growing inside of her would be added to their ranks if she stayed. So, even though she loved him (a truth she had never let fall from her lips in his presence), no, because she loved him, she would leave.
She would run back to the North, to Winterfell, to the warm bosom of her family (who would forgive anything), and she would forget the Sansa Stark who loved Tywin Lannister.
Disappearing without a trace was a great deal easier in theory than it was in practice.
For several days she had gone about her business, acting like nothing was wrong; her only exception was Tywin. Luck, however, or the gods, had shown her a small measure of favor where he was concerned. She'd only seen him once after she found out, and he was on a flight to the Free Cities the next day. Sansa had kissed him tenderly, putting every bit of the love she felt for him into it, and promised that she would see him when he returned.
Then, as she tried to pack her life up, she realized that it was an impossible task she'd set for herself.
In a moment of desperation, she reached out to Margaery, hoping that her friend would have a solution at the ready.
"Sansa, dear, I leave the city for a few days and when I get back, you're up the duff from a one-night stand. I didn't think you were that kind of girl."
Sansa wrinkled up her nose, "You don't have to make it sound so sordid. I'm not that type of girl, but I got a little drunk. It sounded like a good idea at the time." That sounded pathetic and stupid, even to her ears, but thankfully, Margaery bought it.
"Well, I daresay that a brat will keep you out of that kind of trouble for the next eighteen years or so. Any idea who the father is? Was there an exchange of mobile numbers, or names?"
Sansa shook her head, "No, I just remember that he was tall and blond."
"At least you didn't stray from your usual."
"Margaery, you could be a little nicer about all of this!"
"Would I be here if I weren't the very model of the Maiden herself?"
Margaery's comparison made her snort with laughter, and then she met the other woman's eyes, and, seeing the repressed laughter there, burst into a fit of giggling. "Gods, Margaery, you haven't sacrificed anything to the Maiden since you lost your virginity to that boy from Dorne!"
"Yes, well, one must keep up appearances," Margaery responded primly, "else grandmamma would be terribly ashamed." That prompted another round of giggling, at the end of which Margaery took on a more serious tone, "Really, Sansa, what can I do? You've been so vague…are you after a husband? Willas would be more than happy to step up, you know he adores you."
Sansa gave her a wry smile, "Don't tempt me. I'd almost be willing to marry your brother if it meant avoiding telling my family, but I like him far too much to marry him without loving him. No, I need you to help me plan my escape."
"You make it sound so clandestine! All you're doing is relocating to the barren wasteland that is the North."
"I've built a life here, Margaery; I need you to help me take it apart."
"Where do you want to start?"
"Work. How do I quit without raising too much of a fuss?"
"Oh, well, that's easy. Tell them this…"
Margaery was brilliant. She'd taken hold of Sansa's crisis and smoothed it over with some simple directives.
"Tell them you've been offered a job at Targaryen, and that they want you to start immediately. They'll be so busy making you sign non-disclosure agreements that everything else will slip their minds."
That piece of advice had the added benefit of stalling Tywin. His initial anger at her betrayal could blind him to the truth for quite some time.
"As for your flat, you'll take your clothes with you. The movers will take care of the rest, and your things will follow you North in a few days. But, why all the secrecy, dear? It's not as if there's anyone to hide from."
"I'm embarrassed, and I'm not enchanted with the idea of raising my child in this cesspool of a city. Starks belong in the North." And Lannisters belong in the West, she added mentally before continuing, "I knew I'd go back for good someday, I just didn't think it would be this soon."
"Hmm…if anyone asks, I'll just say there was a death in the family, shall I?"
"That should do it."
Tywin did not keep tabs on the younger crowds unless Joffrey was in trouble, so he would not hear anything suspicious from that end.
Margaery's plans went off without a hitch, and a few days later, Sansa was on a train bound for the North. (She'd paid for the ticket in cash, and had taken care to hide her features from CCTV.)
Before leaving, she had stood in the doorway of the flat that had been her home since she started her affair with Tywin. They had spent hours, days there, locked away from the rest of the world. She had received her first genuine smile from him in the kitchen after she'd botched the meal she had been making for him. They'd exchanged gifts every Wintermas in what passed for her parlor. They had attempted having sex in her cramped shower once, before Tywin had banned all such activities in that particular space, and she had ignored him.
The flat was full of memories, some good, some bad, some utterly exquisite, and she had left them all behind. She had run from her flat, fearing that the memories would drag her back in if she let them.
The train ride was uneventful. She spent it rehearsing all the things she would say to her parents, the apologies and the promises she would make. But, Sansa forgot them all when her mother opened the door, and instead, she threw her arms around Catelyn's neck, letting all the tears she'd been holding back spill forth.
Sansa Stark plus one had returned to Winterfell.