WARNING: A little violence.
Sansa pulled the embroidery thread through with her needle and admired the almost finished work. The handkerchief was to be her wedding gift to Margaery, so it had to be perfect. She and Tyrion had discussed formal gifts for the royal couple, but Sansa wanted to make something a little more personal for her friend. She was pleased with the work done so far. The little doe was quite lifelike, crowned with golden Tyrell roses. Underneath she had wanted to fuse the words of her maiden house and that which Margaery was marrying into : Strong and Furious, but the words had been laughable paired with sweet little doe that Sansa had embroidered. She guessed that it would have looked better with her original idea, a great lion, but when she had mentioned her work to Tyrion, he had given her an odd look and reminded her that the official sigil of the king was a stag. Sansa had been annoyed by her own mistake and apologized. Although Tyrion waved off her apologies, she couldn't help but feel as if he was discomfited by her words. Probably he was just hesitant to share a sigil with such a monster.
So a doe it was, and instead of house words, it would just be the pretty picture. It was at least going to be something that she was proud to present, even if it was just a token of her friendship. Her eyes strayed to the counter where the box Margaery had given her rested. She stood and moved towards the box, lifting the lid and revealing the hairnet again. It really was a magnificent piece- dark, buttery silver adorned with gleaming amethysts. It was finer than anything she had ever owned and she was looking forward to wearing it. Her fingers smoothed over the glossy stones and she imagined it holding her copper hair. The contrast would be lovely. Her small handkerchief was pitiful in comparison, but it was handmade and Sansa was proud of it. And they would be giving the couple some other finery as the official wedding gift. Tyrion had mentioned that he had a few suggestions. As she closed the box again and moved to set it down, a loud banging behind her startled her.
She jumped at the noise and turned to see her door thrown open and the king panting in the doorway with a malicious grin painted on his lips. Ice dripped through her veins at the sight. She hadn't truly been alone with him since her wedding, when he had threatened to come to her in these rooms and rape her. She was suddenly aware of all the exits and her heart sank as the only true one was right where he was standing. She gulped and forced herself to smile, albeit shakily.
"Y-your Grace!" she greeted with a cursty. She held it for just a moment before rising. She kept the smile forced on her face as she tried to look as pleasant as possible. Perhaps she could make it out of here unscathed-he hadn't even brought his knights, she noticed. Though she couldn't truly tell if that was a good sign or not. Her smile was met with a catlike grin of his own as he stared at her hungrily. Joffrey sauntered into the room before slamming the door closed behind him. Sansa startled at the noise, but tried to keep her composure. The gleam in Joffrey's eyes made it clear he had caught her flinch, but he didn't comment on it.
"Lady Sansa," he purred as he moved closer to her. She could feel herself trembling as he approached, but was surprised to see him pass her without a touch and seat himself on the recliner. He sprawled himself out on their couch and picked a grape from the fruit platter that had remained untouched the whole day. He threw the grape in his mouth and bit into it savagely, returning his eyes to her form. Sansa stood awkwardly as he openly appraised her, hoping he would state his business with her soon. "I wanted to come see how you fared, my lady!" His teasing tone did little to soothe her nerves, but she nodded anyway.
"I am well, Your Grace. I thank you for your concern." If he wanted to play the gallant king, she would play the pleasing maiden.
Joffrey nodded while he indulged in a few more pieces of fruit. "Yes...yes...I am quite concerned about you, my lady. You are enjoying life here? In the capital, at my court? You are not...unhappy?" His words made the hair on the back of her neck stand, but she just nodded emphatically. She didn't know what he wanted from her, but knew if she told him the truth it would not end well for her. So she put on her most convincing smile and lied through her teeth.
"Absolutely, your grace. It is all I dreamed of."
"Even your marriage?" The king raised his eyebrow at her, and Sansa felt like he was just playing with her as a cat does a mouse. She was so confused by this line of questioning. Did he want her to be miserable? Well, obviously in the end, but what did he want to hear right now? Although her friendship...relationship with Tyrion was the best thing about King's Landing, she doubted Joffrey wanted to hear that. So she dipped her eyes slightly and allowed her smile to droop.
"I of course am heartbroken to have lost yourself, your grace," she cursed herself for the flattery as she saw his eyes darken and lower to her chest, "But I was happy to do my duty towards the crown. The Lady Margaery will make a perfect queen for you. Th-...the imp is suitable for a traitor's daughter like myself." She hated letting that dreaded word pass her lips, but she needed to convince this boy-king of her distaste.
She jumped again slightly as he stood abruptly and made his way over to her. She backed up slightly until her back came into contact with her vanity. Joffrey cornered her, placing his hands on the counter behind her on each side. She was utterly trapped and felt her heart pounding. His cruel smile sent shivers down her spine, but she forced herself to stand straight, not giving in to her fear. "But you are happy, my lady?" he practically whispered in her ear. His hot breath tickled her skin and she hated herself for thinking of Tyrion. His gentle breath on her neck as they slept was nothing like this monster's. She shook the pleasurable memory away and focused on the task at hand. Get out of this alive... Get out of this with your maidenhead...
So she did her best to smile, though she knew it wouldn't convince anyone and nodded slightly.
"Yes, Your Grace. I am happy here."
If anything, his smile grew more sinister at her words. "Interesting, my lady. Though I am glad for it, I doubt I would be so happy in your situation." One hand crept up to hold her neck, reminiscent of her wedding day. While his grip was not bruising, she couldn't move from his hold. She was utterly powerless and confused until his next words. "If my family was recently slaughtered, I don't think I could be as pleased." His words made the blood drain from her face. No... "I think it admirable, my lady, that you can fuck your husband happily every night-spread your legs for a man that helped murder your mother...your brother...all your family."
His lips were practically pressed against her ear and each whispered word was a gut-wrenching blow. Her mother...Robb... they were gone. She had no more hope that her dashing brother would ride for the capital and rescue her. She would never feel her mother's embrace again. She didn't have anyone left. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. There was no pack for her left. She couldn't help the tears welling in her eyes, but she forced herself to stand straight. She had to be strong right now. The king would take advantage of any weakness she showed right now. No matter how much she wanted to collapse in anguish, she couldn't. Not yet. Joffrey was still watching her with a sadistic grin and Sansa couldn't help the fury that washed over her in place of devastation.
She immediately moved to break free from his hold. She didn't care what punishments she would receive from fighting him. There was nothing left for him to take from her. She angrily shoved him away and moved to escape his trap. He had grown stronger in the past few months though, and her shoving did little to free herself. It did, however, pull a maniacal laugh from the king. All pretense of courtly behavior dissolved with her struggling and he immediately shoved her back against the counter. He returned one hand to her neck, now not so gentle, and used the other to grope her breast. Disgusted, furious and heartbroken, she continued to struggle against him.
Before she knew it, she was screaming, but not necessarily for help. She didn't know when she went from struggling to get away to trying to scratch Joffrey's eyes out, but it was clear he was not expecting aggression from her. She fought him with everything that she had, screaming out her pain and anguish. There was no accounting for who was stronger, Joffrey was larger and had spent years in the training yard and hunting, while Sansa had pursued womanly activities like sewing, but she was overflowing with anger and, without anything to lose, they were actually evenly matched. Her nails dug into his arms, drawing blood, and he snatched them back, immediately backhanding her as hard as he could. Sansa practically laughed at this though. She was used to his knight's mailed fists and Joffrey's weak slap was nothing in comparison. Her laugh only infuriated him further and he grabbed her hair, throwing her to the ground.
"You fucking bitch!" He railed as his foot came in contact with her stomach. Now that she was knocked down, there wasn't much chance for her left and the kick took the wind from her lungs. "You will pay for that, you little whore!" Joffrey's screams faded out as Sansa lost herself in her mind. After a few blows, she barely felt his kicks anymore. When it was clear he was not going to get anymore reaction from her, Joffrey slowed his attacks. He was panting from exertion-obviously not expecting this from her-and finally turned to leave. "You will regret this" he finally snarled before pulling the door open and slamming it behind him.
Sansa stayed on the ground, bloody and bruised, and curled into a ball. The anger had been washed away and now all that was left was crippling misery and grief. Tears were washing down her cheeks and she was choking on her sobs.
She didn't even notice the box a few feet from her, tossed from the counter in her struggle. The hairnet had been dislodged from it's container and a few of the black gems were crushed underfoot.