A/N. This is inspired by 'The Council' video game.
Okay, heads up because I've taken some clear liberties in regards to the lay out of Game of Thrones world. Instead of Harrenhal being in the Riverlands on the north shore of God Eye Lake like it should be, it's instead now located on the fictional Mockingbird Island (originally Whent Island) which is going to be several miles off the coast from the fingers and north-east of the Paps. Other than Harrenhal everything else is located in its proper place.
The Ned/Cat is a background relationship
Tags.
Older Man/Younger Woman, Demons, Empath!Sansa, Demonic Possession, AU-1700s, AU-Cannon Divergent, Slow Burn, Mental Manipulation, Emotional Manipulation, Consensual Underage Sex, Jon Is Sansa's Cousin, Secret Societies(sort of), Sex, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Loss of Virginity, Loss of Innocence, Fluff, Soulmates, Cat Doesn't Hate Jon, Supernatural Elements, Supernatural Powers, Longevity/Immortality, Petyr Loves Sansa And She Loves Him, No Beta.
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The year was 1793 and though calm and peaceful looking the world actually lingered in a perpetual silent chaos. Few nobles or commoners truly knew the turmoil they lived in. King Robert Baratheon sat on the Iron Throne with his golden wife, Queen Cersei, at his side. He'd become king after the war and made quick work of making himself seem just and powerful so his people would either love him or shut up and know their place. Despite his outward appearance of courage and assuredness he did indeed have worries; warranted ones. He feared revenge, a rebellion, led by Daenerys Targaryen for her murdered family. If she planned to plot and take back the throne there would be those who supported her for sure; he couldn't allow that. Then there was his elder brother, Stannis, still bitter and trying to overthrow their younger brother, Renly, for their House Seat. Robert had awarded it to Renly but it seemed Stannis didn't care. These were the king's worries and only Ned Stark – his most trusted ally, friend and Hand – helped to put an end to his fears.
Sansa Stark – the eldest child of Ned and Catelyn Stark – had grown up with her father spending much of his time away from Winterfell Hall to aid their king but she'd always felt loved and known he'd return. She'd received the highest schooling along with her siblings and never been anything but the most perfect lady … so why then had she always felt as though something was missing? Why had sweet Sansa Stark dreamt of searching out that which had been hidden from her? Perhaps she just sought adventure and mystery.
That adventure and mystery came completely out of the blue one day when a letter arrived for the eldest Stark girl at Winterfell Hall - an old estate which had been home to the Starks for generations. A letter was quite the surprise because the only correspondence she ever received was either from her father when he was in King's Landing or from her friend, Jeyne Poole. This letter though, it wasn't like any she'd received before, in fact it wasn't truly a letter but an invitation of golds and white. It informed the young redhead that she had been asked to an 'event' at Harrenhal Mansion on Mockingbird Island at the behest of Lord Petyr Baelish. She'd heard that name before on her mother's lips but other than that she'd got no idea who this man was or why he'd desire her attendance.
That was how Sansa ended up in the sitting room not long after noon discussing it with her mother and father, invitation in hand. The looks on their faces had said it all; instantly against it.
Her father, Eddard, had dove right in to how dangerous this man was, how he couldn't be trusted and the word 'brothel' even got thrown out at one point. Frankly her father hadn't ever been so negative about anyone and it had seemed very uncharacteristic of him. Meanwhile Catelyn Stark had gone rather silent as if remembering things she'd have rather forgotten; left in her past. It hadn't taken long for her to be outright forbidden from attending Lord Baelish's event; especially since there wasn't a shed of information on what this event actually was.
"But why?" Sansa asked quickly.
"You heard your father, Sansa, you will not be going to Harrenhal." Catelyn sighed. "Petyr hasn't been the same since the duel."
"Cat, he hasn't ever been normal. He's always been a demon." Grumbled Ned. "Why would he of all people invite Sansa to Harrenhal? What could he possibly want from her?"
Her parents continued as though she wasn't there, as if she had no say over her life. Then again, she was the eldest and currently the only eligible daughter of House Stark so in a way she didn't. As the daughter of the Hand of the King many powerful houses would want her hand in marriage; House Hardyng had already proposed marriage which her parents fiercely debated. For a long time she'd longed to marry Prince Joffrey and be queen but … then she'd come to her senses and seen him for what he was, a spoilt and violent child. Joffrey hadn't been able to hide his true nature very long and a single trip to King's Landing had been all it had taken to jolt Sansa out of her childish fantasy. Shame, being queen had sounded so nice. Perhaps her father would marry her to Harrold Hardyng after all, Harry the Heir seemed a better choice than Joffrey by miles.
The redhead had tried several more times after the conversation in the sitting room to convince them but her parents hadn't changed their position on the subject one iota. Whatever Lord Baelish had invited her to his home for Sansa wasn't to ever know. However, as time had gone on she'd grown more and more curious about the mysterious lord and his haunted home, not just because her parents had banned her attendance but because this man had his own island. Sansa knew of families who had significant wealth and Houses that had their Seat on on an island but Harrenhal was different and she desperately wanted to know what Mockingbird Island had to offer. Then there was the fact that Lord Baelish had singled her out for a reason.
Still, no matter what young Sansa tried her mother nor her father budged. Even after her father had returned to King's Landing her mother had refused to tell her anything about Lord Baelish. Sometimes she truly felt as though she'd be confined to Winterfell Hall forever, she loved her home but she'd literally never been anywhere else in all her seventeen years save for an extremely short and underwhelming trip to King's Landing three years previous.
As the event neared Sansa gave up trying to change her parents' mind and gain permission to go; knew it to be a pointless endeavor The redhead stored the invitation away in one of her drawers in an attempt to forget its existence but almost every day her blue eyes drifted to it. Why her? Why not her father or Robb or even Jon? Sansa wasn't anything all that special so what in Westeros could Lord Baelish want with her? She'd had marriage proposals before and this certainly wasn't one, this was something new and mysterious and for some strange reason she felt as though her very soul pulled her to attend.
~X~
After almost a week of the invitation sitting in her drawer Sansa had decided to speak to Arya about it. Her younger sister had always been the paranoid one so if anyone could shed any light on what the strange Lord of Harrenhal wanted with her it would be Arya.
The pair sat at the foot of Arya's bed, her little sister had her knees pulled up to her chest like a disinterested boy while Sansa insisted upon sitting like a perfect lady. Winterfell Hall had always been cold what with them being so far north but the mass of wall sconces and the furs on the bed eased the biting chill.
"... he's probably some sort of degenerate or a debauchee." Said Arya with a shrug. "A stranger who Mother and Father won't talk about just asks a girl of seventeen to his island in the middle of fucking nowhere? Yes, do not trust him, Sansa."
Sansa rolled her eyes. "You shouldn't be so vulgar, Arya. What if Mother heard you speak that way?"
Arya's response to just about everything was unwavering suspicion. In all honesty the youngest Stark girl rarely trusted anyone; sometimes Sansa wondered if her sister trusted her.
"Mother's not here." Grumbled the dark-haired girl. "Besides, you wanted my help and I've told you. Lord Baelish is strange and I don't think you can trust him. If Mother knew him then he's old so what does he want with you? Marriage? Maybe he just wants your dowry like Hardyng does … I don't like him either, he's hiding something."
Sansa shook her head as she fiddled with her hands in her lap. "No, he is Lord of Harrenhal, a High Lord. He has his own island. I doubt he'd want a simple dowry." She sighed. "Perhaps he has a son he wishes to introduce me to though, maybe this is about forming a connection between Stark and Baelish."
Arya snorted. "Already tried that going by what Robb said." Sansa raised a questioning eyebrow and Arya took it as her cue to explain. "Robb said that Grandfather took Baelish in when he was about Rikkon's age. Said that he was raised with Mother, Aunt Lysa and Uncle Edmure. Apparently Aunt Lysa is besotted with him but, then again, she's crazy."
"Arya!" Sansa scolded. "You should not speak in such ways … even if it is true." She paused a moment to let the new information soak in. "If Grandfather raised him then why are Mother and Father so against me meeting him? Why do we not view him as an uncle?"
The younger girl snorted. "Robb said something about a duel and Baelish getting injured or something because of Mother. I think he loved her. Robb didn't know very much, not sure how he knew that to be honest. Oh, and there's the brothels. Robb did know that."
Sansa's eyes widened. "Lord Baelish frequents brothels?"
"No," Arya shook her head, "he owns the brothels. Not sure how many but a High Lord who owns a string of brothels? He's not to be trusted, Sansa, and even if he does want you to marry his son you should say no. I don't like Harry but he's better than a flesh-peddler."
Sansa excused herself then, her conversation with Arya had been enlightening though somewhat disturbing. And how did Robb know so much about brothels all of a sudden? Still, everything she'd heard had been hearsay, partially known tales her sister had heard from their brother who'd heard from someone else. Could Sansa really judge a man off of hearsay alone?
As she rounded a corner Sansa suddenly bounced off of something much stronger and more solid than herself, she would have tripped backwards onto her rear had large hands not snapped out to grab her. Blue eyes peered upwards to find her cousin then, Jon, his hair was a curly mess as always but his kind eyes shon through his gruff exterior.
"You all right, Sansa?" He asked with a little concern for her. "You don't look quite yourself."
"I'm fine." The redhead insisted. "Perfectly fine, I was just speaking with Arya is all."
"About that invitation to Harrenhal?" Oh sweet Jon, he may have looked like a dumb killer but was actually a lot smarter than people assumed; Sansa related to this, she'd always liked Jon more than the rest of her family. "You should stay away from Lord Baelish, Sansa, he's dangerous. And wanted your mother."
Sansa's eyebrow shot upwards in puzzlement as they continued to stand there in the hallway. Arya had mentioned this as well and the redhead wanted answers.
"Mother? What about my mother?"
Jon sighed. "Apparently he was in love with her or infatuated or something. Her father, Lord Hoster, took him in and he fell in love with her. Eventually he ended up in a duel and was defeated, nearly died. Looks like he changed after that but has always had an unhealthy interest in her."
"How could you know any of that?" Surely this was just more hearsay, the same which Arya had spoken of.
Jon shrugged. "It's not exactly a secret. If your mother doesn't want you going to that island then I'd listen to her."
He bent and pressed a little kiss to her forehead then and flashed her that charming smile of his before he wandered off to carry on with whatever it was he'd been doing before Sansa had bounced off of him. Was everybody against this mysterious lord? Maybe they were right.
She went down to the library as the teenager often did when she wished to be alone to think about things. Her brothers and Arya never went into the library and everyone else knew to leave her alone. Sansa found some peace there amongst the ancient tomes.
While Arya may have been right when Sansa thought about it, and her parents had actually met Lord Baelish. Still, the longer she thought about it the more she wanted to know for herself. What could this man possibly want with her? She tried to convince herself that her parents had been right, that she shouldn't go to Harrenhal but it never quite happened. There was a driving force, an urge, that made her long to attend. It didn't take long for the curiosity to return full force.
~X~
Eventually Sansa decided if her parents would not change their minds and since the urge to attend hadn't left her, then she'd disobey her parents. She could understand their worries, the invitation had made it clear she was not to bring any servants, not even her lady's maid, but Sansa didn't care. Seventeen year old girls rarely thought things through fully after all. This was her chance at an adventure before her family sold her to another under the guise of marriage, before her virtue was taken by some stranger she'd call husband.
In secret Sansa packed a large trunk as the date approached, made sure her finest dresses, shoes and jewelry lay neatly inside and made certain it was hidden. Sansa made no comment on the trip, let her parents think she'd accepted their ruling on the subject and simply returned to her sewing. Really she'd sent several letters to her closest and most trusted friend, Jeyne Poole, and arranged to have Lady Poole's servants and coach take her to the docks where she'd quietly booked transport. Since Sansa and Jeyne were friends no one had batted an eye when Vayon Poole's servants and daughter had come to collect her from Winterfell Hall early one morning. They had done this several times over the years and so her mother hadn't taken umbrage at all. Catelyn had simply wished Jeyne well and pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead before saying her goodbyes and to have fun.
Sansa had locked eyes with Arya once she'd gotten into the carriage with Jeyne. Her younger sister wasn't stupid, far from it, in fact Arya was too smart for her own damn good. For a moment Sansa's heart had fallen to the floor but instead of running down from her bedroom window to inform their mother of Sansa's deception she'd just waved knowingly. They may not have gotten along all the time but Arya longed for adventure as well and wouldn't be so cruel as to take her elder sister's away. With her heart firmly back in her chest Sansa continued her journey.
The trip to the docks had been long and bumpy to say the least. The sound of the horse's hooves klopped away loudly but had soon faded into background noise. The carriage wobbled every time they went over uneven ground and Sansa wondered if they'd ever come up with a better mode of transport.
Jeyne chatted all the way but left Sansa none the wiser, still the redhead smiled and tried to keep up with conversation. Jeyne wanted to know everything about Lord Baelish but quite frankly Sansa didn't have much information to give her friend. Of course they'd all heard of Harrenhal and knew that it had changed hands a number of times over the years but knowing the stories of Harrenhal and its hauntings didn't actually shed any light on the mysterious lord. Jeyne joked that he must be the only noble not afraid of ghosts if he still resided on the island but Sansa didn't laugh. Ned had called Lord Baelish 'a demon', maybe it was not that the Lord of Harrenhal didn't fear ghosts but that the dead feared him.
Sansa's mother had always hidden her feelings well but Sansa had just had a way of always knowing. Catelyn didn't want Sansa anywhere near Petyr, she felt as though he couldn't be trusted and would turn on someone given half a chance and some incentive, yet at the same time Sansa knew her mother cared for Baelish in some fashion; brotherly perhaps.
A wave of nausea washed over the redhead and while she played it off as the jostling from the carriage to her friend, Sansa knew that real panic had come. She'd hidden her intentions from her parents and gone against their wishes, had Sansa made a terrible mistake? Was this adventure headed for disaster? When the sound of gulls reached her Lady Stark realized it was too late, they'd be at the docks soon enough and Sansa had decided her fate. If she asked Jeyne to turn the carriage around then she'd have truly given up on her adventure, perhaps that would have been safer, but was safer worth the years of wondering?
"Are you all right, Sansa?" Asked Jeyne sweetly just as the smell of salty sea air started to drift into the black carriage marked with the Poole crest.
Sansa nodded. "Yes. Yes, I am fine. Thank you for this, Jeyne."
The mousy girl smiled softly. "Of course, Sansa. I have done nothing you wouldn't do for me." She paused a moment as the pair stared out the carriage towards the bustling docks. "As women we live under the thumbs of our fathers, we shall be married before the turn to the century no doubt, then live under the thumbs of our husbands. You have a chance to live before we are wives and I want you to have that."
"You don't think this is too dangerous?"
Jeyne sighed. "I don't think I'd be able to do this, Sansa. I'd be too scared, but you are braver than you think. That might be why Lord Baelish asked you to go to Harrenhal in the first place. Adventure is always dangerous, I think, but you can do it."
Yes, Sansa could do it. She was Sansa Stark, first of her name, daughter of the Hand of the King. She could get on a boat, sail past The Fingers to Mockingbird Island and she'd damn well do it. With a renewed courage she hugged her friend and they got out of the carriage. Finding the ship she'd booked passage on hadn't been all that hard thanks to the aiding instructions that had come with her invitation – instructions she'd never let her parents see – and soon her large trunk had been loaded and the ship readied to leave.
"Good luck, Sansa." Said Jeyne as she pulled her friend into a tight hug.
"Thank you for this, Jeyne. I will write to you, I promise."
With that Sansa boarded the ship. She waved to Jeyne until the other girl faded from sight and Sansa's along with her. This was it, Sansa's mysterious adventure. A young lady travelling alone did indeed seem dangerous but she'd not let this stop her. Something inside her drove the seventeen-year-old onwards, cancelled out her fears and concerns until only the urge to go towards the island remained. Why? Sansa had no clue, but the only way she'd find answers was if she went to the source; the source being the Lord of Harrenhal.