5. Sansa
Sansa Stark sighed contentedly. Although she wasn't as crazy about romance and beauty as she had once been, she still thought that grandeur added to a wedding meant blessing. After several years of engagement, Renly Baratheon and Loras Tyrell, both of important families, had just got married, taking advantage of the new Marriage Equality Law. The celebration was but magnificent. Everybody who was somebody attended the wedding.
She had her friend Margaery to thank for this, as far as she had been the one to convince her brother Loras to include Robb and Sansa into the invitation card sent to the Starks. Well, it couldn't have been too complicated a mission. Having a young and talented writer like Sansa, who had already won a major poetry award, was glamorous, and the grooms loved glamour.
Besides, she was well aware of her friend's crush on Robb. Margaery had been looking at him with doe eyes from her place at the head table. Barely a moment ago, she had asked him to the floor. Her friend was playing her cards. Anyway, she doubted Margaery would be lucky in her attempts: Robb was dating some Jeyne girl. The Starks were not much happy with the girl's family, but that was unimportant. They didn't have the love marks, so they would split up eventually. Unfortunately, Margaery and Robb didn't have them either.
The grooms did have the marks. As they waltzed around, Sansa could almost see the radiance coming from their wrists. In fact, they glowed of happiness. She felt a little jealous: they were meant for each other and they looked so cute together!
Garlan Tyrell approached the table and greeted her parents before asking her for a dance. She accepted; everyone knew Garlan was a gentleman. She moved to the sound of the music and saw her parents share a smile. They were meant together, as well. They had lived and were still living a love story, nearly as romantic as she had once considered aunt Lyanna's. Foolish little girl.
When Sansa was younger, she had daydreamed of being like her aunt. Someday she would be able to leave everything behind for true love. Nonetheless, when she grew up and realized the pain Lyanna's flight had caused to others, she had had doubts. Maybe love was not always the key to happiness. She knew her father used to adore his little sister. Nowadays, their relationship was distant and estranged. They only got through via phone or mail and only from time to time.
Maybe she would also find her true love, one day. However, she would not rush; she was young and she had already fallen for the wrong boys before. She had been a fool. She would not make the same mistakes again. Sansa would wait.
The music changed and they stopped dancing. Garlan's wife appeared and the three of them engaged in small talk. After a while, the couple left and Sansa lounged around the place. She had a glimpse of Renly talking to a young woman whose lean body, dark hair and mischievous smile triggered a memory in Sansa. Greyjoy. Theon. The first boy she had laid her eyes upon was her brother's best friend—a cliché and a waste of time. Annoying little girl.
If only it had been her biggest mistake.
Sansa had been barely a teenager when she started fancying Theon. She had done what almost every little girl would have done in her place, that is, make entries in her diary, draw hearts, write silly poems and blush when the object of her affections was in sight. She had also dreamt of the love matching marks, of course. It didn't matter that she had met Theon several times before: the marks would appear, sooner or later. They had to appear.
Thus, one day, Sansa had finally gathered her courage. She'd made up a silly excuse about Theon's watch and touched his wrist. Then, she had waited for something to happen until Theon mocked at her and said something about whims and annoying little girls. Sansa had fled, sad and embarrassed, and erased the drawings, crossed out the words of love and cried herself to sleep.
Nonetheless, that failure had not been enough to make her forget her hopes of finding her soulmate. Soon after, she had started hanging out with Margaery. When her friend introduced her brother Loras to Sansa, she had almost fainted. Apart from his uncanny handsomeness, he was gentle and good-mannered, and nicer than Theon. He had even given her a rose.
Needless to say, she had fallen head over heels. She had resumed writing and having dreams of wonderful things to come: matching marks, a tender and passionate relationship, a beautiful wedding, a new sister in Margaery, children. Stupid little girl.
The day the two girls found Loras kissing Renly, several things were broken—Sansa's heart, and the boys' eardrums when Margaery started yelling at them. At least, it would have eventually made for a funny story that the four of them still remembered with a smile.
On the contrary, there were no smiles when it came to Joffrey.
In the beginning, their story had reminded her of a fairy tale—a pretty and polite prince charming that adored her, families that got on well, dreams of golden futures, popularity. God, she had been so delusional that she had even seen the non-existent marks! However, step by step, the golden façade had started to crumble. It began in little ways—a rude word against her siblings, a derisive comment on her clothes or hair style, practical jokes that none but him found funny, a look of contempt when Sansa uttered an opinion. It only got worse. By the end of the time they were together, Sansa had lost her friends, argued with her family, changed her looks to suit his tastes, given up her own preferences, learnt to take in every cruelty he said or did to her, to bear the humiliations. She had learnt to be nullified.
The last straw came when he had viciously kicked her puppy Lady, hurting her. Lady had whined, Sansa had started and pushed Joffrey, and he had slapped Sansa. Hard. Epiphany. She had left him and never thought of coming back. He thought otherwise and it was necessary an encounter between Robb and Joffrey to put an end to the nightmare. Nobody ever knew what had transpired in that encounter, but, afterwards, Joffrey appeared at school with a limp and a swollen eye, and no intention of ever getting close to Sansa again. Her father and his father's friendship has suffered from the strain. Sansa was beyond care. She only wanted to make a fresh start and go on with her studies and life. Professional help and university had granted her wishes.
Something had remained within her, nonetheless—a haunting demon made of mistrust, shame and rage. A demon she had only been able to tame after meeting Professor Clegane. He was a scarred and embittered man known for his rudeness and harshness. In spite of that, he had the gift of bringing out the full potential of the students that attended Creative Writing—like a hound, he dogged and push and dug until the treasure showed or the tomb collapsed.
Sansa hadn't collapsed. She had bled out both the treasure and the demon and written them down.
"Which realm are you visiting, honey? Outer space, Musetown?" a voice said.
"Memory City, Robb. It's not the best place to go on holiday, trust me," answered Sansa.
"Don't worry, that dick isn't coming," Margaery said. She was clinging to Robb's arm.
Sansa nodded. Joffrey's homophobia was notorious.
"Let's drink to that! Margaery has just told me about that new cocktail. Will you have one, Sansa? " Robb asked. His eyes where a bit glazed and he had a goofy grin on his face. Margaery was smirking.
"No, I won't, thank you. Go get your drinks, I'll be dancing," Sansa answered.
"Don't get lost in thought, then. See you later," Margaery said with a wink. They left, holding hands. Sansa sighed. It seemed that the Starks wouldn't have to be bothered by Jeyne's family for long.
She danced, humming happily. After a while, a young man got close to her and they began talking. He was nice and funny, and his talk was interesting—Sansa enjoyed the time with him. Then, the youngster hesitated and took something out of his bag.
"Err...You don't mind if I asked you for your autograph, do you?"
He was holding in his hands her first book of poetry, Little Bird, Little Wolf, the one that had been awarded. Sansa smiled and took the book from him.
"Of course, it will be a pleasure. So, do you like poetry?"
"Well, I like reading. I'm more into the classics, but a friend of mine recommended this book to me and now I must say I love it. Seriously, it's really deep, and I find the bittersweet contrast quite moving. Some lines are soul-piercing."
"Thank you," she said. That was flattering, and he was good-looking. Truth be told, he had a shock of dyed blue hair, but he had beautiful indigo eyes and a fit body. It's a start, but beauty is not the most important trait in a person, remember!
"You see, when Renly told me that Alayne Stone was going to attend the wedding, I thought he was joking. So it has been a wonderful surprise!"
"Well, Alayne is just a pseudonym, so she is not here, indeed. My name is Sansa."
He laughed and Sansa's smile broadened as she finished writing.
"And to whom...?" she asked.
"Young Griff," he answered. Sansa frowned and he resumed laughing. "I know, it's a ridiculous nickname, but Coach Connington always call me that and I kinda like it."
"Ok. Young Griff, then." Sansa signed and gave the book back to him. "So, have you got a real name?"
"Of course. It's Aegon."
Aegon? A memory sparked in Sansa's mind. At the same time, her fingers touched Aegon's, and the spark turned into a shining made of blue and indigo.
"No way! That can't... And with a Stark!" Aegon said, but he didn't move his hand from the contact.
A glass fell to the floor behind them and both started. A woman that was wearing a beautiful sun-shaped pendant stared at them in horror.
"Mum?" he asked.
And Sansa remembered the names and the family names. She remembered and shuddered. That was a joke. It had to be a joke.
But love and hope don't know of memory, and the story will start again.
