Author's Notes: Just to share some nonsense, it was the first Sansa chapter written, but obviously not the first posted. I've been impatient to post it, but it's a good thing I took time; I had the chance to change things, and edit others, to keep it in line with previous chapters. Also, I do not condone Joffrey, or rape of any kind; there is no grey area.
WARNING: RAPE CHAPTER.
SANSA AND JOFFREY
He was handsome, but so had been her husband. Ser Joffrey, accidental Commander of Oakenshild, seemed put out that she didn't simper or blush in his presence. She heard from Ros that Joffrey liked to be rough, and she thought she had prepared for it. It couldn't be worse than her husband had been, could it? But yes, yes it was much worse. He was exactly like her abusive husband; made worse by the fact that she had been doing so well moving away from the past, and he brought her back.
It started out fine, with small kisses and roaming hands. But then he bit her neck (not at all a turn on to her), and held her a little more strongly then was necessary. Trying to placate him, she placed a hand on his cheek, "Please, you're hurting me." That had been the wrong thing to say. He grabbed her wrist in a vise grip, "You're here to please me, not the other way around, whore!" and he trips her to the floor, not one foot away from the bed.
She whimpers, tears falling down her face, ugly memories coming to the surface once more. She's unable to bring herself to stop this rape, as she'd promise Ser Robb she would. Her tears and fear seems to please Joffrey, smiling as he unlaces his breeches.
She tries to scoot away, but her body hurts from her fall, and she doesn't get very far. He grabs her ankle, drags her closer to him, and slaps her hard. Nothing escapes her lips but a gasp, blood welling from her lips, and tears flowing freely. She has the nerve to bring a hand to her face, to look at him reproachfully, so he slaps her again, harder. This time she does not look back.
Enjoying her pain and fear, he leers at her; lightly beating his cock with his own hand, every now and then spitting into it, knowing that Sansa will not be wet.
Feeling himself getting close, he rips off her gown; one she brought from her previous home, and roughly shoves into her. Her body remembers, is used to it, but still it brings no pleasure. She is a broken woman who needs tenderness, not roughness. She lies there, refusing to participate, but Joffrey likes his women beaten. He thrusts into her over and over again, bruising her breasts with rough hands, biting her collarbones, asking her if she likes it, whore that she is. She doesn't reply, but no answer is required. Each pump brings fresh tears to her waxen face, but no vocal cries come.
After he spills in her, he laughs in her face. "Pathetic. Maybe I ought to get my man, Gregor, on you." She has no idea who "Gregor" is, and she has a feeling she doesn't want to know.
As he leaves, she sees Sandor, Joffrey's second in command, through the doorway. His face is impassive, as always, as he stares at her, but she does nothing to cover herself, or move from the floor. He comes in, and lifts her from the floor in his arms, despite the fear still present in her eyes, though Sandor has been nothing but kind to her.
"Seven hells girl," Sandor whispers to her, "scream, yell, protest; call for me next time." He then gently places her on the bed, bringing up a sheet over her nakedness. He moves to wipe a tear from a cheek, before Joffrey yells, "Hound, to me!" He leaves her, both wishing he could stay.
Post Script: Whew. Glad that's done with. Teaser: Joffrey will get his due, it'll just take a few tries to get there, is all. Teaser #2: Sansa will be happy again, eventually.
