Disclaimer: This is a nonprofit fanfiction and everything belongs to GRRM.

Rating: M

Pairing: Willas/Sansa, Robb Stark/Margaery

Author's notes: I put this one specifically in ASOIAF as opposed to GoT because it follows the idea that the Tyrells had in the books, which was to marry Sansa to Willas. This fanfiction is my take on what Sansa's life could have been, if the Lannisters had not married her to Tyrion first. This is AU because of this, and also because I chose to keep Robb alive in this one; he wised up to what Jeyne Westerling was doing and did not take her maidenhead, therefore he did not marry her, therefore the Red Wedding never happens.

Chapter 1: Departure

Sansa woke up in absolute panic with the feeling of a hand covering her mouth. It was night time; she could hardly see a thing, and her mind was racing. All she could see in the darkness of her bedroom was that the tall shadow next to her bed, whose hand was still on her mouth, was wearing a white cloak. Ser Meryn? The young maiden's blood turned to ice at the thought, and at the thought that Joffrey might be with him.

"Lady Sansa," the unknown person said, "I apologize for being so rude. Do not be afraid."

The voice was a hurried whisper, yet it was familiar to her, and it did not belong to that awful man. That voice was kind and reassuring to her.

"I will remove my hand, if you promise you will not scream."

That voice belonged to someone far kinder and more deserving of his white cloak and title of knight than that monster.

"Do you promise?" he asked.

Sansa nodded, and Loras Tyrell removed his hand from her mouth. She sat up in her bed, her eyes on him - she could see his face now that her eyes had adapted to the dim light - and she shyly pulled up her sheets to cover herself, feeling quite exposed in spite of her nightgown.

"Put this on," he told her, placing a cloak on her bed.

The fabric was thick - it was a traveling cloak. It was dark, but given the very dim light in the room, she could not tell if it was black, dark blue, deep green or it might even have been burgundy.

"Why?" was all that she could ask.

"Do you still wish to marry Willas?"

Sansa hastily nodded. Yes, more than anything, she wanted to be Willas' wife, to be freed from King's Landind and the Lannisters - free from Joffrey, at long last.

"If you wish to marry my brother," Loras continued, "You need to leave tonight. Cersei knows about the wedding. If you don't leave tonight, tomorrow the Lannisters will marry you to the Imp to foil our plan."

To Tyrion? They could not, could they? Of course they can, she mentally chastised herself. You are a ward of the crown. Joffrey is king. He can make you do anything. She shuddered at the thought of being the Imp's wife, but even more so, the thought of becoming a Lannister.

I'll die before that happens.

"We have a carriage ready to take you to Highgarden; my brother will be with you. I am to take you to the carriage - if you are willing to come with me."

Without a single word, Sansa got up from the bed, and hastily put a travel gown over her nightgown before throwing the cloak on her body and placing the hood over her fiery copper hair. Ser Loras took her hand, and guided her outside.

Sansa was terrified - she did not even want to think about what would happen to her if they got caught - but everything was going so fast, and Loras' fingers entangled with hers helped a bit. Swiftly, but carefully, he took her through the sleeping castle, down from her bedroom to the stables, going through many hidden corridors Sansa had no clue existed. When they arrived, she saw a carriage in Tyrell colours, a few Tyrell knights, Garlan Tyrell, Lady Olenna and-

"Fear not," Lord Varys told her. "I am here to help."

"Why?" she carefully asked.

For all they knew, he was the reason Cersei was aware that the Tyrells planned to save her by marrying her to Willas.

"A good question - one that I cannot answer you now. Perhaps at a later time."

Sansa did not want to trust him, but she had little choice in the matter now.

"You are to leave tonight," Olenna said. "Garlan will take you to Highgarden, where you will meet and marry Willas. Until you are in the Reach, your name is Janna Tyrell, and you are Garlan's cousin. Your mother is very ill at home, you are going back to be at her side. Understood?"

Sansa nodded, but she was already seeing a flaw in this plan - with her auburn hair, she looked nothing like a Tyrell and would be quite recognizable.

"Since your hair has such a memorable shade," Varys said, "I have brought this."

He opened the small golden box he had been holding; it contained a powder, dark brown in colour and with a slight shimmer.

"This coloured powder stick to the hair, and hair only. Whores in Essos use it all the time, to cater to... specific demands. It resists water, but not soap, be careful when bathing until Highgarden. It will conceal your true hair colour, and make your fake identity believable. May I?"

She nodded, pulling down her hood - he was here already, she had no choice but to trust him now - and Varys got behind her, running the powder through her hair with his fingers. He worked carefully, methodically, making sure to cover every single strand of fiery hair with the deep brown colour before he stepped aside, satisfied.

"Go," Olenna pressed them. "Before one of Cersei's little spies discovers that Sansa has left her bed."

"I will see you when you come back home, grandmother," Garlan said towards her, "Do give Margaery my best wishes. Brother," he nodded towards Loras, "I hope to see you again soon. Guard our sister well."

Loras nodded in response, and his older brother stepped inside the carriage as Sansa was giving everyone a curtsy.

"Thank you," she said, "Ser Loras, Lady Olenna, Lord Varys - thank you for your help tonight."

"I don't plan on sticking around much after the wedding," Lady Olenna said, "I will see you again in Highgarden. Now go, Sansa."

She climbed inside the carriage and it rode off, surrounded by its escort. Sansa looked down, re-adjusting her travel gown, partly because she had been in a hurry and wanted to look more proper, and partly because she was desperately looking for something to occupy herself.

She felt overwhelmed, almost dizzy; this was all so sudden, so rushed. The relief and the joy at being able to leave and marry Willas were exhilarating, but the disbelief was still lurking in a corner of her mind. She could not believe that she was truly leaving this horrible place with its horrible people behind for good.

Garlan was sitting in front of her, studying her silently as her hands moved on to readjust her hair, now that she was satisfied with how her gown looked. The powder provided by Varys had done wonders, perfectly concealing her bright red hair and making it a deep, rich brown colour. The new colour suited her, and would surely let her pass as a Tyrell, but she had been even more beautiful with her natural hair, he reflected. She was a beauty, to be sure; tall, elegant and proper, with delicate, noble features, sky blue eyes and porcelain skin.

According to his sister, she was also kind and intelligent. She was certain to catch Willas' eyes, that was for certain; not that it mattered, of course. She was her brother's heir, the key to the North. He would marry her even if she was ugly and stupid.

"Halt!" a man shouted outside. "Who goes there so late?"

Garlan gave Sansa a pointed look; she nodded, ready to play her part - ready to be Janna Tyrell, rushing home to be with her sick mother. Garlan sighed, feigning annoyance as he slid the curtains and the window open.

"Garlan of House Tyrell," he announced. "I am escorting my cousin, Janna, out of the city and all the way back to Highgarden."

Through the curtains that Garlan was keeping open, Sansa saw that they had reached the city gates. This was her one obstacle before being out of King's Landing for good.

"To what end?" the guard's voice seemed unsure, as though he found Garlan's answer to be quite suspicious. "Why not leave in the morning?"

"It's my fault," Sansa said, giving the man an apologetic smile. "I received the raven this evening, terrible news about my mother's health."

She made her bottom lip tremble, and her voice was shakier when she spoke again:

"The maester says she's very ill and - I wanted to leave in the morning, but I could not sleep, and Garlan was kind enough to agree to take me home immediately."

Her explanation seemed to soften him.

"Sorry to hear about your mother, m'lady. You may pass - safe travel to you both."

"Thank you."

Sansa leaned back in her seat as the carriage resumed its movement, and Garlan closed the window and curtains. He glanced at her; she seemed perfectly composed now, when not a minute earlier, she had been on the verge of tears. She faked not just the story, but her emotions as well, he realized, She nearly made herself cry to fool the guard. He had a faint smile; his sister had been right. Sansa would be a very fitting wife for their brother, who was a true politician.

"Very good," he said, "That man almost had me worried we would face complications. We are out of the city now; but we should remain careful about your identity until we are in the Reach."

"Yes," she softly replied.

"We will ride all night to try and put as much distance as we can between us and the capital before the Lannisters realize you are gone. I know this is not ideal, but you should try and get some sleep."

Sansa managed to lay on her side, using her folded cloak as a pillow; she was not very comfortable, but she was exhausted, so she fell asleep nonetheless.


When Sansa woke up, faint rays of sun were peaking through the curtains, and Garlan was still sitting in front of her, although he was sleeping, his arms crossed. He looked a bit like Loras, with a beard and a more muscular stature. He was good looking, but not quite as handsome as his younger brother. He was no longer wearing his cloak, and she realized he had used it to cover her while she was sleeping. He must have been sleeping lightly, for he woke up as she was sitting up.

"How did you sleep?"

"Decently," she replied.

Truth be told, her back and neck were stiff from sleeping on such an uncomfortable surface, but it certainly was better than waking up in her bed only to find out she was to marry Tyrion Lannister.

"May I ask you something?" Sansa said carefully.

"Of course," Garlan replied.

"Willas - how is he like?"

"Willas is a very good man," he immediately replied. "Kind, fair, dutiful and intelligent."

He smiled.

"Even our grandmother thinks highly of him, and you have met her - she has very high standards. Willas is not..."

Garlan seemed to search for his words a little bit.

"Well, he is not like Loras, if that is what you are asking. He is no knight - he could never be, with his leg. That never bothered him. Loras is a brilliant swordsman, but Willas' greatest weapon is his mind, and I daresay it's a better quality in a lord than swordsmanship."

Sansa frowned.

"What happened to his leg?" she asked.

"A jousting accident when he faced Oberyn Martell when they were younger. A freak accident - Willas does not fault Prince Oberyn for it, in fact, they are close friends. They both breed horses and like to discuss it. Sadly, his leg was never quite the same after the accident."

Sansa lowered her gaze.

"He can walk," Garlan specified, "But he can't ride a horse. He uses a cane to walk - does that bother you?"

"No! No, not at all," Sansa vehemently responded.

The last thing she wanted was for the Tyrells to think she thought poorly of Willas.

"Is something else troubling you?"

She bit her bottom lip.

"Speak freely," he told her kindly.

"Willas, will he... if I..."

She took a deep breath.

"If I fail to please him - Willas... will he... will he refuse me? Will he return me to King's Landing?"

Her question took him aback. Not only was she strikingly beautiful, certain to be to Willas' taste, but she was the key to the North - of course Willas would marry her no matter what. She does not know how valuable she is as a bride, Garlan realized.

"I see no reasons why my brother would be displeased," he replied. "My sister and my grandmother have spoken highly of you in their letters. He is very eager to meet you. Fear not - Willas would never send you away, to King's Landing or anywhere else."

His answer seemed to ease her worries, and she smiled to him.

"Thank you," she said. "I am very eager to meet him as well."


"What do you mean, Sansa Stark is gone?" Tywin coldly asked.

His daughter was sitting in front of him, looking absolutely livid.

"I mean she's gone! She was not in her bed this morning, nowhere to be found in the keep, no one has seen her - those damn Tyrells took her!"

Tywin gave her a severe glare.

"How do you know it was them? Do you have proof?"

"I don't, and I don't need any! This is obviously their doing - Margaery was always talking to her, that two-faced little bitch, and her old bat of a grandmother is not one to be trusted either, they were always lurking around her. The guards say Garlan Tyrell left with a cousin and a small escort during the night, it must have been them! We have to send after them, they must be on their way to Highgarden!"

"We will do no such thing."

His answer seemed to take Cersei aback.

"Father-?"

"I will not angry the Tyrells by chasing down Garlan Tyrell because you think he left with the Stark girl! Do you not see how badly we need Highgarden's support?"

"If they take her to Highgarden - Father, if we lose her -"

She was not only the key to the North - she was their one Stark hostage. If Robb heard that his sister was gone from King's Landing for certain, who knows what he would do to Jaime?

"We have no one to blame but yourself."

"How can you say such a thing?" Cersei was insulted beyond words. "I do not man the gates, or patrol the Red Keep, it is not my fault that the Tyrells betrayed us and stole her!"

Tywin sneered.

"Is that what you think? That they stole her from her bed? Dragged her down to a carriage or a horse while she kicked and screamed? You can be certain Sansa Stark willingly left her bed and got herself in that carriage or that horse. Of course she was willing to leave for Highgarden - how would she not be, after how Joffrey and you treated her?"

"I don't know what you mean," the queen said dismissively.

"Don't insult me," he warned his daughter. "Has it occurred to you that she might not be gone if she had not been mistreated? Do you think I have not been told about Joffrey having her beaten and stripped in front of the court? Of his ways to torment her?"

"I don't control him!"

"Yes, that much is painfully obvious. Leave, now," he waved her away.

She got up, and he reminded her firmly:

"No actions and not a thing said towards the Tyrells - am I clear?"

She pursed her lips, pouting angrily, but nodded:

"Yes, Father."

Tywin's eyes followed her as she stormed out - he knew she was angry, and for what it was worth her intuition was probably right, but they could not afford to harm the relationship with House Tyrell.