I forgot to mention their age in the last chapter. I have significantly aged up the elder kids.
Robb, Jon, Theon, Margaery, Jeyne : 20
Sansa, Joffrey, Gendry, Aegon : 18
Arya: 12 Bran: 10 Rickon: 6

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter 2

Sansa Stark woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, and a heavy heart. Jumbled memories of last night attacked her, as she regained consciousness, but that wasn't what clawed at her, she had already lost too much exactly a week before. She wasn't sad because of the broken relationship with Joffrey, as much as she was for all that time wasted. She had planned everything. And that day it wasn't just their silly little relationship that broke apart, but all her dreams. When her past crashed, her future toppled along with it.

And what about the present?

Where would she escape from the present? She could cover up the ugly bruises on her arms but she feared they were etched deeper than her skin. She could feel it like heavy baggage weighing down her every step.

And then there was last night's actions left to consider. Kissing Jon Snow had been a mistake. If she had just not let go, if she had just thought, ten thousand times, before acting. Now, she couldn't even face her family. But she had been tired of meticulously planning everything just for it to crumble away. Of always doing the right, the well thought out thing. She just wanted to be reckless for a while. And it had been nice.

No, thought Sansa. She couldn't think like that. Jon Snow thought of her as nothing more than a nuisance. And why would he kiss someone he didn't even like!? Oh, she was being naïve again. Nobody cared about such things anymore.

Well, she couldn't sit in bed and sulk all day long. She had an important task ahead.

I must be brave.

An hour later, Sansa put the pen down, and was certain she was suffering from carpal tunnel. She was just sitting, staring sadly at her desk, till she heard a knock on her door. She quickly jumped up and pulled the sweater over her dress to hide the purple bruises, just as Robb entered.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He looked at her for a while before sighing, "Do you wanna talk about it? About, um, you know, last night?"

She gave a fake little laugh, and waved her hand, "It was nothing. I was drunk. I barely even remember what happened."

Robb didn't look convinced, but thankfully he didn't press her for more details.

"So what were you doing?"

"Writing Thank-you notes. You know for the birthday gifts and everything."

"But that's quite a pile! Couldn't you just buy some printed ones, or you know, not bother with it?" he said, looking shocked.

No, she couldn't just buy "printed ones", she had especially selected this thick creamy monogrammed stationary, and had to lovingly scrawl on the note. Usually, this would have been a relaxing activity, but now, it just made her want to shriek. Still..

"That's not quite the same as a hand-written note, is it?" She saved him the need to answer by prompting, "So why are you here?"

"It's nine. You need to come down for breakfast."

So he had rightly suspected that she would try and skip that lovely family affair.

"I am late for tennis practice. I'll just eat at the club." She smiled, and returned back to writing the note in a painfully elegant handwriting. He went after a while, and she finally looked up. She couldn't finish it today. Not today, she'll give herself some time.

Sansa entered her wardrobe, looking for her tennis outfit. The cute clothes were the only reason she had taken up tennis in the first place. And she still wasn't all that fond of it, but she really didn't want to face Jon and everyone, so she might as well follow her own lie. She shifted through all her ballet clothes before spotting a tennis dress. While she may not like tennis, she loved ballet. She had shocked all of her friends when she chose ballet over cheerleading. After Margaery had left, they had all thought Sansa would be the new head cheerleader. She broke down a little at the thought of her former best friend. It had taken Margaery exactly 12 hours to start going out with Joffrey after the..well, she couldn't think of it. She wouldn't.

Sansa had just ordered her breakfast when someone gently tapped her on the shoulder. Turning around, she saw Petyr Baelish smiling at her.

"May I join you? I, also, find myself alone on this beautiful morning."

She really would have preferred to be alone, but it wouldn't be right to be rude to someone just for selfish reasons. And she knew Petyr Baelish used to be friends with her mother.

"Of course, Mr. Baelish," she said, giving him a smile.

"Call me Petyr."

They settled into a companionable conversation, until the topic turned to university, and he fixed her with a curious glance.

"What are you planning on studying?"

Sansa had given this a lot of thought, so she replied quickly, "I am thinking of majoring in English Lit, with a minor in either History of Fashion or Cinema Studies. I can't make up my mind. They are such interesting subjects."

He looked slightly disappointed at her answer, as if he expected better, and soon enough, he pressed, "That's great, but aren't you considering law or business or something along those lines? I know you brother is studying law. He already works with your father, doesn't he?"

"Well, yes. He was always gonna get into the family business, but I am really not that inclined towards…" she trailed off.

"Okay. But you're still so young; you shouldn't make any rash decisions."

Sansa didn't know what to say to that, but he continued staring at her.

"You look so much like your mother. It drags me to the past, sitting here with you. The Tullys always had a prominent look."

Petyr looked down then, staring at his entwined hands, "Sansa, I see so much potential in you. Can I make you a proposition?"

Sansa changed into her tennis dress, and made her way out to the court. She played a couple of sets, and was already bored. As she retired to drink some water, she smiled at her instructor. He was actually her classmate, a scholarship kid from Flea Bottom, the downmarket area of Westeros. She didn't remember his name, but she knew he was always hanging about with her younger sister. Just so she didn't have to start playing again, she moved over to strike a conversation with him.

"Hey."

He looked startled to be spoken to, and just nodded at her.

"Why don't you ever talk to me?" Sansa asked before she could help herself.

"Um, I didn't think you even noticed my existence," he said, while examining his shoes.

"How can that be true? You are always with my sister. I have seen you like a dozen times at home."

"And we were in the same year. I am surprised to find you alone..oh look, there they are. I was wondering how you aren't with your group of friends trailing behind you," he said, smiling a little.

Sansa craned her neck and saw Joffrey and everyone else making their way to the golf course. Oh no, please let them not spot me, she fervently thought. But, of course, no such luck.

Joffrey turned and looked straight at her. This was the first time she was facing him after he had attacked her. But he was stopped in time, wasn't he? Nothing happened. He didn't even get a chance to touch you, she thought to herself. Nothing happened. Nothing happened.

"Look who we have here! Everyone, it's the whore of winterfell."

Joffrey made to move towards her, while everyone, all her friends, stood behind him and laughed. He kept advancing on her, saying disgusting things, till all she could do was drop the racquet and run in the opposite direction.

Weak.

She felt so weak.

And scared.

She had reached the foyer, when she stopped for breath.

"Sansa."

She felt someone grab her arm, and turned around to see Jaime Lannister.

"Sir Jaime Lannister."

"Why are you running about? I have been looking for you."

She didn't say anything; she had nothing to say to him.

"Look, I want to make sure you don't tell anyone about..certain events. You know how close your father and the King are; it wouldn't do to sour relations just because of, well, something that didn't even happen."

"I won't tell anyone."

"Good, because it's not like you have any evidence, and once again, nothing happened."

"But you saw it. You were there. Isn't that evidence enough?"

He had the decency to soften his expression, before continuing, "Yes, but I stopped them in time, before they could, you know.."

"Rape me?" she said in a small voice.

"I told you this then, and I am telling you again now, nothing happened, so don't keep thinking of what could have happened. Because it didn't. So it would be best for everyone involved if you don't tell anyone about it."

"You have nothing to worry about. I wasn't planning on telling anyone." Sansa made to walk away, but then turned back to him and said, "You know, I honestly thought at least at some point you were gonna ask me if I was alright. You are the only one who even knows."

Jaime Lannister looked like he was about to say something, but then he just glanced sideways, and she saw the Queen standing at a little distance, looking out of the window that overlooked the golf course, and Sansa knew that he spoke no words of his own.

Because she couldn't face her friends or her family, Sansa finally decided to go to Riverrun. The housekeeper allowed her inside, and shortly her uncle came to greet her.

"Sansa! It's good to see you here. You should have stopped by yesterday, Roslin just left."

"So she isn't gonna be around then?" Sansa asked, feeling disappointed, she got along really well with her uncle's young girlfriend.

"Her father wanted to see her. She should be back next week. You know she doesn't like it at The Twins."

Of course, she didn't, Sansa thought. Poor Roslin, her father was horrible (he looked just like Filch from the Harry Potter movies, and Sansa suspected, he was just as nasty), and he had married half a dozen times, and so Roslin had a zillion siblings.

"Uncle Edmure, I wanted to ask you for a favour."

"Of course, what is it?"

Sansa looked at her feet as she asked him if she could live at Riverrun for a while.

"Is there some renovation going on at Winterfell?" he asked, looking confused.

Sansa opened her mouth to lie and make up some excuse but she couldn't think of anything. I am done with lies. She considered just leaving without answering, running away. But she had nowhere to go, and so instead, she just broke down and started crying.

"Oh Sansa, don't cry. What is it? Did something happen? I know your parents are out of the country. Did you have a fight with your siblings?" He asked, looking extremely uncomfortable.

When she didn't answer, he put his arm around her, and let her cry for a while, before saying that she was free to live with him as long as she wanted.

Sansa had settled into the guest bedroom, and was curled up in bed, still sobbing and wondering how in the world would she move on from here, when the door opened and her brother entered. Looking at him, standing there, all composed, and strong and mature made her cry harder.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, feeling embarrassed at him having seen her in this state.

"Edmure called me. Not to take you away, but he was just worried."

Sansa buried her head in the pillow, trying to muffle her sobs.

"What happened to you?"

I can't tell you, even if I wanted.

"You know with mother and father away, I am the head of the house. You are my responsibility. I can't look after you if you won't tell me what's wrong."

"I am never coming back," she mumbled into her pillow.

Robb sat down on the bed beside her.

"Arya, Bran and Rickon are waiting downstairs. You are gonna get up, and join us for dinner. We are going out. Anywhere you want. And we can have lemoncakes for deserts."

"What if I don't want to?"

"It's not an option. Okay, how about this, you don't have to come back home with us after dinner, you can stay here for 2 days, and then come back before our parents do. Does that sound okay?"

"I guess," she sighed. She had almost forgotten that her mother and father would be back so soon. It wouldn't be fair to worry them.

"Come on then, let's go." He said, standing up and waiting at the door, looking at her expectantly.

She reluctantly got up.

"Why do you keep wearing that huge sweater? Don't you feel hot under it?"

"It's a cold summer."

"Don't let father hear you say that."

Sansa laughed lightly at that, and slipped her hand into his, just like she used to when she was little.

She actually had a good time at dinner. Arya was on her best behaviour and Rickon and Bran were precious as always. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe falling out with her friends would actually pave the way for her to get to know her family better. And she had an interesting proposition to consider. And at any rate, at least things couldn't get any worse.

Sansa was back in the guest bedroom, reading Anna Karenina way past midnight when her phone rang.

A text:

Open your window. I am right below.

Notes: Please comment and let me know your thoughts so far. :) It's really important that you review. x