Chapter Twenty-One: By the Order of King Joffrey

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SANSA

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"My lady," Shae burst out as soon as she closed and locked Sansa's door, looking like she might drop the linens she held tightly in her arms. "You are safe! I was very worried! Where were you? I waited and waited last night for you but you did not come to bed! Tell me, my lady!" She rushed to Sansa, her dark eyes large.

But Sansa stared her down coldly, her blue eyes hard as ice. "Answer me at once, Shae, and if you deceive me, I will know it!" she shouted, standing up from the rocking chair near her bed.

"Answer what, Lady Sansa?" asked Shae in a confused way, arching her eyebrows. For the first time since their meeting, Sansa had the urge to pull her hair, to slap her pretty olive-colored cheeks. Shae's ignorance was obnoxious and Sansa was not in the mood to play any games she did not have to.

"Did you alert Lord Tyrion to my absence in my chambers?" Sansa asked, her teeth gritted. She'd been mulling away at this for the past hour, her stomach still flipping both from her bewildering interactions with the king and with the conversation with the Hand. Shae looked down for one second, but it was enough for Sansa to become increasingly irate. She charged forward, breathing hard, unsure of her next move. "Did you, Shae? Answer me! Answer me now!" Inches from Shae's nose, Sansa stared at her intensely. Sansa's legs were quivering and her arms shaking slightly. "ANSWER ME NOW!"

"My lady, please!" Shae proclaimed. "What is the meaning of this? What happened? Where were you?"

Unsure of how to answer, of how to begin, Sansa's eyes glazed over. It all seemed far away, like a nightmare. "With my king," she said.

"That I know!" Shae said, and she set the linens on the set of drawers near the doorway. "What has he done to you?"

"Joffrey?" Sansa barked. "Joffrey did nothing! After he called me to his chambers, the Hound interrupted us." Not exactly true, but it will do. "The Hound pressed his self to me, Shae, and he kissed me. He nearly had me on the floor but Joffrey did not allow it!"

"My lady!" Shae said, but Sansa had no time for her handmaiden's sympathies any more. It had all become too real.

"We shared Joffrey's bed after. Nothing beyond him holding me. He protected me, Shae. But..." Sansa was going to include the detail about Joffrey's disturbing sleeping habits. She thought better of it, wanting them to have a secret between them. Joffrey would likely hate it if she told anyone about his screaming in the night. "In the morning, it was as though it had never happened. I thought Joffrey would forgive me all my sins and then this morning he screamed at me as though we'd shared nothing. I cannot risk my life, Shae! Did you tell Tyrion?"

"No," Shae said, yet she did not meet Sansa's eyes.

"Do not lie to me, Shae!" Sansa said. "You of all people! Please, please, do not lie."

"I… I gave no details," Shae replied, drawing in air. "Lord Tyrion came. Asked where you were. How could I?… he came, and-"

"Why would he come by my chambers at night?" Sansa hissed.

Shae clenched her teeth. "He…" she trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Don't lie to me, Shae! I saw you look away! I need one honest person in this terrible place!" Though her body shook and her voice wavered, Sansa was very aware that she was not going to cry. She was too angry and exhausted to cry. "He caught up to me as I was returning here. He said he'd been informed I was missing. So did you or did you not tell him?"

Shae hesitated again and Sansa, filled with vitriol, slapped her hard across the face. Sansa bit her lip, feeling sorry for this action, but helpless all the same. Shae's tan face pinked as she stared hard at Sansa, her lips pursing into a solemn frown. "Yes," Shae said in a dead tone. "Yes, my lady. I told the lord hand you were missing and that I was worried for you."

"Why, Shae?" Sansa shouted. "Why! He told me he could have passed it on to the queen regent! He could have found me in Joffrey's bed! Would you have been happy then, Shae?"

"I would never say a word about King Joffrey," Shae replied quietly, all familiarity gone from her normally warm and musical drawl. "I would hope you'd know such a thing, Lady Sansa. You told me yourself and I know it, too. That would be treason. Tyrion badgered me for an answer and all I told him was that he should mind his own business. I told him that women have to take care of themselves in ways he would not understand and when he asked how that pertained to you, I told him to leave you alone. I defended you, my lady. Believe that. Tyrion should not have reacted as such but he does feel a certain guilt for his family's actions, and he despises his nephew."

Sansa stared, mouth open. A handmaiden telling the lord hand to mind his own business? With opinions on the lord's actions? What sort of handmaiden have I been given, Gods help me! I thought Shae would keep me safe!

"Why?" Sansa said again, but this time her voice was small and her face befuddled. "Why would you do such a thing? How could you talk to Lord Tyrion like that? Like an equal!"

There was a moment of a silence as thick as clotted cream. What came after shocked Sansa to her core.

"Because I am in love with Tyrion and he views me as his equal," Shae said plainly. She stared at Sansa, almost as if daring Sansa to challenge her. "Because I am his whore. It is time you knew this, Lady Sansa."

"You are what?" Sansa demanded in disbelief. A whore? Not Shae! Shae is my friend, Shae works in the castle. Shae and that funny little man! There is no chance! "I told you, no lies!" Though, it was interesting how much Shae knew about men. Shae, after all, had been much more informative about how to avoid becoming with child after Sansa had bled when the queen regent had only lectured on the importance of bringing royal children into the world. But a whore? It cannot be! Especially with Lord Tyrion.

" No lies," Shae said. "You have told me your secret and I shall tell you mine. He is my lover and I am his, and while we made love I spilled my worries to him. I said you had not returned and I felt you might be sinking here. I only needed to tell someone who cared, but he reacted strongly, you could say—"

Sansa gave a short laugh, unsure of what to say. "I don't know what to think! It cannot be true, Shae!"

"I will not tell him about the king. You have made me swear this and I do not want to betray you-"

"You already have!" Sansa said, and she laughed again, though she did not find the situation amusing in the least. The laugh was short and cold. Unfriendly. "You're... his whore? How could-"

"What matters is I did not betray you," Shae said, firmer still. "Tyrion has been pressing me for information. He tries to know what has been going on with you and if you are being treated appropriately by his nephew. I tell him my job is to keep my head down, especially since King Joffrey has noticed me now. But still, Tyrion wishes to know."

"What does he care?" Sansa scoffed. "He has been kind enough to me, but he's a Lannister like all the rest! He will do me harm in the end! Joff hates him. They have a terrible relationship. I can't- you're in love with Tyrion?"

"Joff?" Shae asked, looking mystified. "A pet name for the king?"

"You shouldn't speak to me that way," Sansa snarled, eyes wild. "You shouldn't ask me anything. Not anymore! How can I trust you?"

"Lady Sansa, please listen to me. I will never spill secrets to Tyrion. I never meant to hurt you and he would not alert the king, even if he figured it out. Tyrion does not want you to get hurt-"

"I know," Sansa said hotly. "Because just like the queen, Lord Tyrion believes I am too valuable. He does not want me, the bargaining piece for the North, to go missing. I know how they feel about me, Shae! Queen Cersei does not want me hurt or sick, for I have had my blood. And Joffrey's dog acted like he cared. He acted like he was trying to give me advice but Joffrey was right all along! The Hound only wanted me for himself!" She drew a shuddering breath, and though Shae's look was still hard, Sansa swore she saw it soften, if only a bit. Sansa went on, realizing it was all making much more sense to her. "For all of his faults, at the very least, King Joffrey is kind to me sometimes. He may be hot and cold. He may be cruel. But I do believe his word that he will protect me if I do not cross him, Shae. I have to hold onto that, because I do not have anything else! I do not even have you!"

Shae sighed. "You have me, my lady. I may just not be who you thought, but you have me. Please do not let the king change your thinking. He is not your Joff. He is bad, Sansa." Shae's voice dropped to a whisper, and Sansa had to struggle to listen. "He has you beaten. He treats you like a toy he can play with when he wants-"

"Don't speak like a traitor," Sansa whimpered, wringing her hands in her skirts. "Please don't, Shae, you have to listen. He's not bad, he's not bad- he saved me from the Hound! He gave me this cloak because I ripped my dress. He showed me kindness. He did not have me struck, even when I was awful. I almost went behind his back, Shae, and I wouldn't do that again!"

"Lady Sansa!" Shae said in shock. "Where is this coming from? He had your father killed! He speaks openly about wanting to kill your family! How can you-"

"I have nothing else!" Sansa shouted. "Listen to me! My father was a traitor and Joffrey is to be my husband!"

"With me you don't have to do this!" Shae snapped. "Lady Sansa, please- I'm not everyone else-"

"I think you're just like everyone else," said Sansa icily. "I will be queen and I cannot afford to trust you if you were so dishonest with me about Lord Tyrion. How should I go about dealing with that?"

"It is a secret, a secret much like your own," Shae said quickly, suddenly seeming to recognize the seriousness of what she had confessed. "My lady, you mustn't tell the king, you mustn't tell anyone-"

"Joffrey will be my husband and you expect me to keep secrets from him," Sansa said, her tone cold. "You've put me in a terrible position, Shae. Not only did you tell about me to Tyrion, you're wishing for me to keep your filthy secret? I cannot believe I took advisement from… a whore." Even the word whore tasted foul on Sansa's tongue.

"And I cannot believe your words," Shae said hotly, eyes flashing.

"How dare you speak to me like that!" Sansa snapped.

"My lady," Shae said curtly. Sansa was about to say something more, to rage against Shae and call her all the names her mother had called back alley women in Winter Fell, when the door rattled savagely with a booming knock. The doorknob turned to and fro.

"Open up!" a man's strong voice shouted from behind the door.

Both women turned to face the racket, falling silent at once. "Who is there?" Shae asked, voice tentative.

"Meryn of the kingsguard!"

Bearing a reproachful look on her face, Shae obediently opened the door, curtsying. By the sneer on Meryn's beared face, Sansa guessed Shae's clumsy attempt at propriety did not endear her to him. "You. Handmaiden. You are coming with me. By order of King Joffrey, you are to be redistributed to the kitchens as your main task."

"The kitchens?" Shae asked boldly. Why? Sansa thought, trying to piece it all together. Her brain felt like it was flitting about. Why does Joffrey wish me to lose Shae as my maid?

"If you've a complaint, I can certainly see if your assistance is needed cleaning horse shit in the stables," Meryn snorted.

"Why the kitchens? I am Lady Sansa's maid. I must be by her side. The room needs cleaning. Her hair needs brushing. She needs her breakfast, ser."

"Questioning my order is thereby questioning his grace King Joffrey," Meryn said gruffly, standing tall.

"I want to know why," Shae said, crossing her arms. Sansa's heart thumped, though she too wished to know the answer. Shut up, Shae. You stupid idiot! Joffrey has ordered this and you must obey. The answer was not worth disobeying Joffrey.

Meryn looked slightly uncomfortable by Shae's attitude. He shuffled his feet. "Because," he began, "because I am told Lord Stannis sails closer to the shore of Westeros and Lady Stark must be kept safe. She must have as little contact with the outside as possible. By order of King Joffrey." It was clear by his wilting tone that he had not been told much about the situation. "Lady Stark will have several maidens now, and none will stay with her for over an hour. If you are lucky, girl, you will come back later to scrub the chamber pot. For now, you'll away with me."

Stannis? Stannis will be here soon!

Shae dipped her head but flashed Sansa a look. "I shall be trustworthy. And quiet," Shae said. "And I hope, my lady, with all my heart, that you should be the same."

"What in the seven hells are you speaking about? Come on with you," barked Meryn.

"My lady?" Shae inquired.

Ser Meryn looked between them, and so Sansa stared ahead.

"King Joffrey told me to use force if necessary as long as I tell him about it when I report to him," Meryn snapped, and he clutched Shae by the material of her sleeve. "Come, girl!"

Shae's worried eyes scanned Sansa's face, but Sansa could not allow any emotion to seep in. Joffrey wishes this to happen, she told herself as Shae was dragged out of the room, Meryn hoisting her effortlessly in one burly arm. And so it must be.

. . .

Later that afternoon, Sansa began to think hard about the day's busy happenings. Shae was not who she said she was, and Sansa felt tricked. Not to mention, she now held the weight of Shae's secret on her shoulders. Although they had argued, Sansa wished she had more information. How long had Shae been a whore? Was she really in love with Lord Tyrion and if so, how long had this been going on? The new knowledge frightened Sansa because she had not heard Joffrey mention it; even though he'd looked right at Shae, he'd acted as if he'd never met her in his life. That likely meant King Joffrey had absolutely no idea Shae and Tyrion were involved together. Sansa had a deep, sick feeling that the news of the pairing would interest Joffrey and if she kept the secret away from him, he'd likely react badly.

Play stupid, she told herself as she tried to mend the broken bodice. Sansa was cross with Shae, and confused, but she did not want Shae to get hurt. Shae did not mean the things she said. No one saw you talking to Shae about the matter and so you must play stupid. Everyone thinks you are a stupid girl, anyway. A stupid little bird. She shuddered at the Hound's nickname for her, remembering the longing in his dark eyes, the want on his savage face, and his hard groin pressed to her hand. Sansa squirmed, feeling ill. She'd been trying to avoid the thoughts about her encounter with the Hound, and so instead, she daydreamed of Joffrey. She thought about him as the dream- as the boy who'd held her tenderly in his arms as they talked about how they felt for each other. She thought of how his face had lit up as he'd described his ideal wedding, the thousands of guests from afar, the throne room decorated splendidly, and his excitement at how pretty she'd look grasping his arm. Sansa hoped very much Joffrey would dance with her at their wedding. She'd been wishing for that all her life, since she was a tiny girl. She recalled making her dolls dance together as she narrated their actions.

Sansa was focusing on the prospect of dancing to distract herself. She'd become tired of trying desperately to work out why Joffrey would redistribute The only solution that made sense was that the castle was preparing for Stannis' attack. Likely, Joffrey knew more than he ever said. She'd also received word from Ser Boros that Joffrey did not wish her to dine with the Lannister brood. She was to take each meal in her room and she was instructed to never leave her chambers. Not for anything, unless accompanied by the kingsguard or King Joffrey himself. It seemed odd that Joffrey would wish her to be so isolated, but she supposed he wanted to keep her safe.

At least, that's what she tried to tell herself. In the back of her mind, she had other thoughts she could not utter aloud. She was wondering if maybe King Joffrey was afraid Stannis would siege the castle, and if that was why he was keeping Sansa locked away. It would make sense and Sansa felt she should feel a bit of excitement at the thought that perhaps Stannis would claim the throne. That had not been on her mind in weeks. If Stannis takes away the iron throne, the Lannisters and King Joffrey will likely be slain. But I am not married to Joffrey, not now. I am a prisoner in this land and as Lord Tyrion reminded me, I have been unharmed here due to my family ties. Stannis won't kill me, I'm sure of it. Stannis will want me alive for the very same reasons the Lannisters do. I might very well be returned to my Mother, to my siblings. Sansa was made happy by these thoughts and she anticipated what would happen next yet she felt terribly guilty for it. She shouldn't be plotting against King Joffrey like this.

Furthermore, Sansa found herself feeling a bit numb to the idea of seeing her kin, of returning to Winter Fell. It seemed a very nice idea, but a somewhat ludicrous one all the same. So much had happened that Sansa was afraid she would not know how to act or what to say. She was becoming accustomed to the Southern way, and though she felt strange admitting it to herself, she could not see a future for herself beyond being Queen Sansa, King Joffrey Baratheon's wife.

. . .

A day went by, then two days. Three, and she was still being kept to her chambers. Sansa had a new handmaiden for each part of her day, though the women only stayed with her for very short periods of time and they set their jaws and did not speak. The days proved long and lonely, and Sansa spent them gazing out the window and wondering if she'd soon go mad. Three nights later, she slept in her bed and dreamed of Winter Fell, though in her vision, it was a blurry land that she hardly knew. Her family was there but they had no faces, only gaping mouths that widened and shut without sound. They hugged and held Sansa, which was nice. But their silence unnerved her. She was happy to see her father was there, except he did not have a head, only a stub of a neck, all veiny and spattered with red.

"My lady."

Sansa awoke with a start, crying out into the night. Someone was leaning over her.

"What were you dreaming? My poor lady. Poor, poor Sansa." It was King Joffrey, whose voice was neither comforting nor cold. In fact, he sounded a bit amused, his voice nasally and high. Sansa stared into darkness, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She smelled the strong scent of wine before she could see Joffrey's face. The day's wine usually gave his mouth a light kiss of slight sweetness that hung around him pleasantly like the good-smelling musk of his clothes. Tonight, the stench overpowered Sansa, harsh and nauseating. It was clear Joffrey had been drinking more than his typical share.

"Your grace," she whispered, trying to avoid breathing him in too deeply. "What are you doing here?"

"Joffrey, Joffrey," he responded in that odd high-spirited way. "How many times should I have to tell you? Call me Joffrey." When her eyes finally made him out, she could see the curve of a smile on his narrow, pale face. His eyes were shining in the dark. "So what were you dreaming?" he asked again, and he crossed to the table near the window sill where the remnants of Sansa's evening tea remained. The new handmaidens were not nearly as attentive as Shae. "May I finish this?" he asked, as he poured himself a cup of wine from the chalice there. He did not wait for an answer, instead drinking deeply from it. There was a watery slopping sound as wine splashed onto the floor. Joffrey strode back to the bed, slamming the cup down on her nightstand. To Sansa's revulsion, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Tell me what you dreamed," he said after, and stared at her.

"I was dreaming about you," she said at once, watching as he sunk onto the edge of her bed.

"Good," Joffrey said, gripping her blanket to steady himself. He crossed one spindly leg over the other. "You missed me? Say you missed me. I shall be sad if you haven't thought of me," he jabbered.

"I've thought of little else," she said without hesitation, although the his words slightly surprised her. What are you doing here? Why are you drinking so much? Please, please, be kind to me. I'll say anything you wish, but please be sweet.

"Me either, obviously," he said with a little snort of a laugh. Sansa was not certain what was obvious. When it came to King Joffrey, nothing was obvious. He ran a hand down her leg through the material of the blanket and she shivered, sitting up. Joffrey clasped her hands strongly and shook his head. His blond curls of hair shook around his forehead. "My...lady...I haven't yet seen battle. I've killed stags. And wild pigs and I've snapped the necks of birds and cats without any weapons. All on my own. I've cut off the legs of dogs. I can kill things. You see. I can kill."

Sansa watched him with great caution, all of her senses alive and completely awake now. "Oh," she said weakly. "That's very good, your- Joffrey." What am I supposed to say to that? Gods, please let me live. Please.

"UncleTyrionsaysnotgoodenough," Joffrey blurted out, all one word, and Sansa had no idea what he'd uttered. "What if I should die, what then? My mother is afraid and I don't wish to fail, but they told me… They told me today the plans, and it's too hard."

"You won't die, my brave king," Sansa said after a moment of consideration, trying to figure out what his point was, what his thoughts were. "What makes you think you'll fail, Joffrey?" she asked, and her voice shook.

"Oh, I've missed you," he said, and he was suddenly smirking again. He teetered a bit, then began climbing over her and threading his hands in her hair. He pulled her locks a bit. Sansa tried hard not to cough at the heavy smell of the red wine. "You'll be good, won't you? You won't be bored of me?"

"I'd never be bored of you, Joff," Sansa whispered, shuddering, wondering how much he'd punish her if she plugged her nose. At least that was not a lie—how could Joffrey bore her, of all things? She tried to speak as calmly as she could and she looked him directly in the eyes. "I'm trying to be good. I've done nothing wrong."

"Sometimes... When I'm with you, I begin to remember things that make me afraid," Joffrey said, his eyes flicking about the room. "That's funny, isn't it? Because my mother said once I had a proper betrothed, I'd get normal. She was wrong." He laughed, sounding unhinged. "But oh, I'll still try, because I really, really did miss you. I'll keep you in this room and no one will have you but me. Would that make you happy?" His lips met hers in the stale darkness, and the kisses he deposited upon her were wet and eager, leaving a line of spittle across Sansa's cheek. She grimaced. "Would it?" he hissed, and he grabbed her by the chin, his nails digging in.

Sansa cried out. "Yes, yes, so happy, Joff, so happy!" She wanted to ask what he meant about being normal but she knew better than to ask him. Go inside, go inside, go inside, she screamed at herself. He released her chin and instead tore her coverlet from her body, leaning over her with an intense look in his bright eyes. Sansa sighed with relief. She'd avoided a punishment and perhaps instead earned a reward.

"I have really missed you," Joffrey said, and he kissed her neck. Then he grasped her nightgown, tearing it down so that he could access her left breast. He lapped at her nipples, moaning loudly and deeply. Sansa's face went red at how lustful he sounded, but then when he grazed her a bit with his teeth, it made her throb with excitement. He dragged his tongue around her right breast and then nibbled her neck, then her collarbone, then pressed his face into the crook of her neck and breathed there, hard.

"Oh, Joffrey, I missed you, too," Sansa whispered, arching her head back, surprised at the low, pleased tone that spilled from her mouth. She knew she had to keep Joffrey satisfied. However, it wasn't as much of a strain this time to feign enjoyment. Before she could say anything else, he pushed his hand up inside her nightgown and pressed his fingers inside her. Sansa let out a heavy sigh, her legs jolting a bit. At first, his long fingers felt cold. She soon felt herself getting slicker as he continued to bite her neck. His motion inside her sped up and her breathing grew hurried, matching his.

"How's that? How's that, my lady?" Joffrey chanted into her ear, and even though her eyes were shut tight, she could imagine that slight sneer curving on his face, that triumphant smugness. Her core pulsed and throbbed and she groaned aloud, her face warm. She imagined everything was perfect. This was her future husband, her sweet Joffrey and he'd had nothing to drink at all. They'd get through the battle. They'd live and they'd dance on their wedding day and all her family would come to see them.

Joffrey's fingers moved out from inside her and instead spread his fingers, clumsily rubbing the small hood above her privates. Sansa gasped aloud, feeling a sparking feeling that made her stomach do a pleasant turn. The feeling stopped too soon when Joffrey pulled his hand away and instead sunk his teeth into her neck. Sansa bit her lip, trying to suffer through the pain. "I… missed…you," Joffrey said again when he finally let go of her skin, and paused to gulp down more wine. "Tell me you missed me!" he said in a snap and dropped the empty cup to the table. He teetered a bit again and made a slight retching sound.

Sansa hung back, afraid he might get sick.

"Tell me you- ugh- missed me!" Joffrey demanded, and his eyes flickered with rage.

"I missed you, too. Of course I missed you, my sweet Joffrey," said Sansa tentatively, not wanting to ignite Joffrey's temper. He responded by shoving his hand back inside her gown and shoving all of it inside her, showing absolutely no mercy. "God!" Sansa shrieked, gripping the sheets in shock. Joffrey made a motion as if he were punching the inside of her, his fist sliding in and out. As he did so, it was easier to handle him in there. There was a slick slapping sound that made Sansa blush but Joffrey seemed neither to notice or care.

"My whole hand, my whole... Hand," he said proudly, "I wonder what else would go in there!" Sansa paled at his words. She attempted to lose herself, trying to enjoy it. He continued for a minute more before pulling his hand out and smiling down at her almost as if it was taking work to see her. "You'll love no one else but me. Right?"

"Of course, Joffrey," Sansa said, allowing herself to smile back.

"Good, good," he said and kissed her mouth. When he pulled back, she could see a coat of blood red on his thin lips. "When I kill Stannis, you'll see. You'll see I'm a hero."

"You are a hero, my king," she replied, but Joffrey was no longer listening.

He slid off her and laughed to himself. "And if I think I am going to die, you'll die with me."

Sansa no longer felt at ease. Fear crept back into her system. "Yes, my king," she whispered.

King Joffrey looked back at her groggily. "It would please me to have you now but I think I would…I should…Would do well to rest. But I'll stick it in you soon enough. If we don't die, I'll put my sons in you and you'll make me happy." The last statement sounded angry, like a threat. "Think good thoughts for me, Lady Sansa," he muttered in a voice that was barely audible. He stumbled from the room and slammed the door.

The next few days would change everything, this Sansa knew, and now she was even more frightened then before. Even still, she cringed and put a careful hand between her legs, thinking good thoughts for Joffrey.