Sansa took an immediate liking to Margaery. She was charming, intelligent, and beautiful and she seemed to actually be genuinely interested in becoming her friend. She was a paragon of what it meant to be a lady, but unlike Cersei, was kind even to those with less social status. And she was so, so pretty. Brown hair, beautiful green eyes, and soft, pale skin. Her physique was admirable as well, her breasts weren't large, but they were well shaped, and she had good hips. Sansa knew that thin hips weren't too appealing as they didn't make for easy birthing. Sansa's hips weren't bad, but Margaery's were excellent.
Compared to her she felt plain. Which wasn't typical. Her friend Jeyne Poole was lovely too, but Sansa secretly thought she had always been a bit prettier. Margaery though, to Sansa's eyes anyway, made even Cersei pale in comparison. And the way she wore it, with smiles and courtesy and kindness, so unlike Cersei and her scowls and drunken fits of cruelty. The Lanisters all had such biting tongues, but the Tyrells were so lovely. And none lovelier then Margaery, though her brother Loras came close.
"Do you think...he'll think I'm pretty?" Sansa asked to Margaery one day as they enjoyed a lunch.
"Sansa, of course. No one in the world could deny your beauty as long as they had any sense at all." Margaery said.
"Your too kind. I really don't think I compare much to many of the ladies at court. And in Highgarden." Sansa said, fiddling with her hands as she often did when she was nervous.
"Sansa. You are a beauty beyond compare. Red hair is well prized among many men. You have a fair complexion and a pretty face. And your figure has developed quite well. Thin but with good hips and a fair bust. Any man would consider you a catch of a wife." Margaery said.
"Thank you my lady." She said, bowing her head respectfully. Sansa felt quite flushed.
"And you're quite intelligent as well. With a pinch more wolfsblood in you then most would see at a glance. So you deserve someone who is good to you. Who appreciates you entirely for the person you are." Margaery said. Something about the way she said it felt odd to Sansa. As if it was full of hidden meaning that she didn't quite understand. It made her feel funny. Like she had swallowed a bat. But it didn't feel bad.
The lunch wore on and Sansa and Margaery said their goodbyes. It was fortunate Joffery was being kept busy by his wedding preparations as Sansa was able to escape his cruelties for sometimes days at a time. That day was, fortunately, one of them. It gave her a lot of time to think. Strangely, despite everything, she couldn't stop thinking about Margaery. She tossed and turned, wondering how it would be. Would she be able to see Margaery back in Highgarden? Would Margaery ever visit? Or would she be too busy being queen? She said she'd visit, but even good intentions can come to nothing. Especially with Joffery involved. For the moment Margaery seemed to have mastered her betrothed but would that last forever? What if when she left Joffery did something awful to her? What if she died?
Sansa felt her breathing grow panicked. She was trembling and she could feel her eyes burn. Her bed and her room suddenly seemed impossibly large. And she was all alone. She wanted Margaery, wanted to see her, wanted to hear her voice. She was the only one who could counsel her. Not any of her handmaidens, or her lord father or lady mother if they had still lived. Only her.
"Your eyes are red little bird." The Hound growled at her the next day.
"It's nothing." Sansa said.
"If Joff sees you like that, he'll want to pick and prod. Little cunt likes it that way. When he sees a wounded animal he just has to poke it with a stick. Get yourself together. You'll have plenty more songs to sing today." The Hound said.
And sing she did. And sing well. She had to. It was all she had to do. Just survive long enough to make it to Highgarden. She lived for the moments when she could have a few moments with Margaery. Even just catching glimpses of her gave Sansa a bit of strength.
Finally, Margaery was able to pull her away.
"You will wed Loras soon, Sansa. We've gotten most everything in place. You'll only have to wait a couple of days before you are wed and off to Highgarden." Margaery said, whispering into Sansa's ears as walked with her arm in arm. Sansa felt herself flush. She was overcome with a certain madness. Like she had been with Joffery, only somehow more intense. She supposed it must be the idea of running away with Loras. He was quite handsome.
"I can't wait." Sansa said. "But I will miss you."
"Don't worry sweetling, I'll visit you as soon as I am able." Margaery said, and she kissed her on the check. Sansa felt very, very warm.
She left and Sansa felt compelled to stare after her as she walked away. Sansa was completely enchanted.
"The little bird has found a pretty flower." A gruff voice said. Sansa practically jumped.
"S-ser Hound." Sansa stuttered.
"Don't call me Ser. I see the measure of it little bird. The two of you are interested. I've heard the rumors about her and her house. Never thought that you'd be up for it." The Hound said. He seemed vaguely amused, though in his typical caustic fashion.
"Up for...?" Sansa asked.
"Surely you don't mean you haven't grasped it? The way she fawns over you? She wants something from you." The Hound said.
"What...what do you mean?" Sansa said.
"Can't take a hint? She wants in your skirts. And you want her too." The Hound said.
"N-no..that can't..." Sansa said blinking. Two women doing...that? How would it even work? Sansa felt a sudden burning curiosity. But she wasn't going to ask the Hound.
"Of course it bloody can. You're eyeing her more then you did Joffery. Shame you'll have to share her with Joffery. I suspect a few nights with that miserable cunt will ruin her for you." The Hound said.
"Y-your terrible." Sansa said, her eyes falling to the ground.
"Enjoy her while you can little bird. It won't last." The Hound said, but his voice sounded almost gentle. Then he left and Sansa was again alone.