Hello lovely readers! It has been a crazy time since the last time you guys got a new installment of this story. It's been in the back of my mind the whole time, but with persuing a writing and acting career, some of my other writing endeavors had to take the front seat for a bit. I am still hopelessly fascinated by the Gilded families of the United States, and I am still crazy fond of this pairing and the characters that make up the GOT universe, so here is more! Here are some history notes for you guys:

Dresses of this time for this social class, well into about the 20s or 30s, were custom made and altered for the wearer. Because of the washing methods of dresses, any kind of ribbon, lace, buttons, or another haberdashery would be added and removed on every wear and wash. Typically there was a woman whose sole job in the house was to sew things like ribbons onto the dresses set out for dinners and parties and to later remove them. This seamstress had a room in the house with organized drawers full of haberdashery and sewing materials, and if she was a lucky a machine, where she would work at removing and attaching these things to the dresses of those ladies in the household. Sansa sewing her own ribbon to her dress is unusual and a sign of her attempts to be useful during the war effort. being stuck at home and feeling like everyone else is out and about, it is her small way of lightening the load for the family and the house staff.

Cousins, at least first cousins, were married commonly in the United States until the time of the Civil War after which marriage laws were set in place in an attempt to protect and ensure fit offspring. However, it was not uncommon for people in Sansa's place in society to marry within the far extended family (fifth cousins, etc). For Example, Eleanor Roosevelt married Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1905. He was her fifth cousin once removed. First cousins, however, were not something society approved of by this time. There are some states even today where it is still legal though frowned upon.

putting together a party in a week was a lot of work. Catelyn would have to put out invitations, arrange for cooks and florists and jump through a number of other hoops in order to have an acceptable dinner. Ed would not deal with any of it, not even the budget. The responsibility would all fall to Catelyn since it was a domestic matter. and for gilded families with so much staff, domestic matters mirrored modern-day hotels more than they mirrored modern-day single-family households.

a friendly reminder that personal life intertwined with business quite frequently. people are petty, and feeling slighted at a party could easily lead to a botched business deal.
I am excited for you to keep reading what I have for you! so glad to be back! much love!

FlamingRose

Christmas Dinner- Stark House

Everyone sat around the table. Sansa was dressed prettily in a pale pink dress. She had sewn a thin blue ribbon along the waistline so that she could wear her blue hairpin. Bran admired her capabilities as a seamstress. Not everyone could come in when in the state that she was in and decide they were going to take the effort to sew a ribbon onto the dress prepared for them for Christmas, but Sansa did. Her devotion to remembering Jon was something Bran had never seen before in all his short years of living. Perhaps his father and Uncle were right: Perhaps she was in love with Jon. What other motivation would propel someone to such action?

The kitchen staff had created an incredibly delicious meal, but it seemed no one was interested in eating with the exception of Rickon. Sansa picked at her food, Mother nervously watched Sansa not eat, and Father and Uncle Benjen sat exchanging looks, eating a few bites here and there with thoughts would not distract them from their task. Bran also shifted his food around his plate. His family's discomfort was overwhelming, and the absence of his siblings was greatly felt. He tried eating green beans from his plate. He counted them as he swallowed them to distract his racing mind. It was like counting sheep, he told himself. Around green bean five, his father stood up at the table. Everyone looked up from their untouched plates and paid close attention to what they all assumed was a toast.

"Tonight we celebrate family, and we remember the family that is not here with us, and we hope and pray for their safe return." Bran watched his mother and sister from across the table. Sansa was staring stoically at her plate, not giving away any hints as to her thoughts. Catelyn was blinking back tears, trying her best not to allow her emotions to slip through. Ned continued his speech.

"I also have an announcement," Ned said with a tilt of his head in determination. Benjen looked up from his plate, a curious look on his face. Bran guessed he was not aware of what his father might say.

"Because the Tyrells are not having their usual ball this New Year's Eve, I have decided to invite the Lannisters here." Everyone's eyes went wide. Eddard Stark did not like hosting events of any kind, and hosting for difficult guests such as the Lannisters was unprecedented. Ned took the shocked silence as an opportunity to continue.

"The Lannisters deserve our hospitality after what occured at their ball, and it seems like it would be a perfectly acceptable match in company: they have three children, and we have three children in the house." Catelyn's eyes cast down to her plate, silently grieving the two children not present.

"It will provide a great distraction," Benjen said warily. It seemed he was just as shocked as everyone else to hear of Ned's decision.

"A wonderful idea, my dear," Catelyn said evenly, though her expression said there would be a discussion soon after dinner, "Besides, Joffrey is a charming young man, Sansa, and you are at the age to be considering possible suitors."

"Joffrey would be a good match in many ways-" Ned began, but at these words Bran shot up out of his seat.

"Father!" he exclaimed. At the sight of Bran's explosion, Sansa too stood.

"Bran," she said with a warning tone. Bran turned to look at his sister and a silence fell upon the room.

"Children," Ned said slowly, "Is there something the matter?"

"No," Sansa replied.

"Yes!" Bran said incredulously. Sansa shot him a look, but Bran would not look at his sister. It was his job to protect her when Robb and Jon were not there. It was his responsibility to take care that Jofffrey did not come close to his sister. His father, uncle, and mother all turned to look at him. Bran realized all too late that he was sworn to secrecy so as not to compromise the business relations between the families.

"It's just that-after how Cersei responded to Sansa-do we want her at the same dinner table with her so soon? Besides, so many girls have their eye on Joffrey."

"Yes, but Joffrey has his eye on your sister, does he not?" Ned asked.

"Well-I mean-" Bran stumbled, his eyes searching the room for answers in the paintings on the wall and the plates of food left untouched. Finally they met his sister's. She was steady and steeled, as if she knew exactly what to say so he sunk back down in his seat, allowing her to take the reins.

"The Lannisters are a fine family," Sansa said coolly, "I understand that I insulted Cersei with my choice in dress. Perhaps an intimate dinner would mend the relationship I may have frayed." She took a deep breath, trying not to wring her hands that she had clasped together before continuing.

"Besides, Joffrey is a fine young man; charming, attractive, well connected," She said. Bran noticed she hadn't said brave, or kind, or intelligent, or of fine moral character: qualities Bran knew the Stark family was supposed to hold above charm and social standing.

"Furthermore," She continued, " I think that the Lannisters are a family we should be better acquainted with- all members of the family. In fact, I would like to get to know all of them better." Bran stared at his sister curiously. She was up to something, he could tell. He just didn't know what yet.

"I propose that in addition to inviting Ms. Lannister and her children, we also invite her brothers, Jaime and Tyrion Lannister." Catelyn and Ned looked at their daughter curiously, and Bran noticed that Uncle Benjen smiled into his drink as he ducked his head down.

"Sansa, Tyrion Lannister is not exactly welcome at Lannister parties…" Catelyn observed.

"This is not a Lannister party, Mother, it's a Stark dinner, and as Starks we have nothing against the Lannisters-any of them. I have a fine rapport with Tyrion Lannister, and would hate for him to consider it a slight against him if we invited his entire family without him."

"When did you even meet him, Sansa?" Ned asked.

"In the Lannister's parlour, a few weeks before the ball. He left his gloves and was retrieving them while I was waiting for Myrcella. I made a good impression." Ned and Catelyn stared blankly at their daughter and then looked at each other. Bran was impressed. His sister was not to be underestimated.

"Sansa brings up a valid point, Ned," Benjen said carefully, watching Sansa with a twinkle in his eye. Sansa looked down at her folded hands as a small blush crept over her cheeks.

"I suppose we wouldn't want to alienate anyone that is part of the family," Ned said, mulling over the idea. He looked up with some decisiveness.

"Alright then, Sansa, we will invite the Lannisters. All of the Lannisters. I will send word tomorrow."

"Thank you, Father," Sansa said with a respectful bow of her head.

"Now, I believe we shall have dessert and coffee in the parlour. Old Nan has told me we have a special lemon cake made." He smiled in the direction of his daughter, whose eyes brightened at word of her favorite cake. The family got up from their seats towards the parlour to have dessert.

"Benjen," Ned said loud enough for all to hear, "Do you mind if we go back to the study? I have things to discuss with you."

"Of course, Ned," he answered, his dark intelligent eyes boring into Ned. He hated when his brother looked at him that way. He'd done it since they were children, and it always felt like a challenge. This time was no different. Catelyn watched the men go in the other direction towards the study, her mouth quiet, but her eyes curious. She turned away and walked towards the parlour with the children. She would speak to Ned in a bit. Now, he was busy.

When in the study, Benjen poured himself a cup of coffee and sat in the chair he sat in before dinner. Ned picked up his cup and walked slowly in front of the fireplace, stopping a few feet in front of it to stare at the flames.

" I must say, Ned. That was quite the decision you made in there. You never struck me as the impulsive type. I must ask, though…do you think Joffrey an appropriate match for Sansa?"

"What do you want from me, Benjen?" he snapped, "You don't know what it's like to have a daughter."

"That is true," Benjen acquiesced.

"Besides, she needs a distraction from Jon. If a match comes from it, it could only help the relations between Stark Steel and Lannister Continental. It's what's best," Ned continued, "you said it yourself: Jon and Sansa would create a scandal that should be avoided at all costs."

"Oh, is there nothing to be said for flippancy anymore?" Benjen sighed.

"Perhaps you were flippant, but this is a serious matter. Scandal is the last thing this family needs. Don't you understand the importance, the gravity of this situation?"

"I'm a military man, Ned," Benjen said quietly as he stared at the flames from his seat, "I've seen blood and entrails litter the battlefield. I've lost brothers to war. I've seen them fall before my eyes and sometimes in my arms… In the grand scheme of things scandal has no importance."

"You said she needed distraction."

"I said she needed to feel useful," Benjen shot back at his brother, his eyes sharp and attentive.

"Good relations between our families are useful," Ned stubbornly stated.

"That's not what I meant by useful, Ned," Benjen started, " and I don't think it's what Sansa wants either."

"It's what I have, Ben," Ned cut him off. Tension was starting to fill the room again. Benjen had nothing more to say. He didn't know what it was to have a daughter. He'd only ever had a son, and right now that son was across the sea fighting for his life. He knew how much danger war was to anyone useful to it's cause. Did he want that for Sansa? No, he decided, he didn't even want it for Jon. An ache settled in his chest. There was a chance his only child would die. Perhaps he was the parent who knew nothing. He let go of a deep sigh as a knock at the door announced Catelyn's entrance into the study.

The Stark House- the Parlour

Sansa watched as her mother went out of the parlour and down the hall to the study. The adults were talking, and she guessed it had everything to do with the Lannisters. She took a bite of her lemon cake, trying her best to enjoy the taste. She struggled to eat dinner, and now she was struggling to eat her favorite dessert. She didn't understand what she was doing lately. She wasn't eating, she wasn't sleeping, she was running away and causing trouble. She was stirring the pot and it frightened her. She was never this way before. She'd always been so much more diplomatic and careful. She was the one who did her parent's bidding, and here she was-misbehaving. Even inviting Tyrion Lannister to the dinner was a small act of defiance. A quiet one, but all the same, it was another action meant to rock the boat. She watched Rickon as he read his new book by candlelight, engrossed in the adventures of King Arthur and his knights of the round table.

"Sansa, why can't we tell Father now?" Bran asked quietly now that they were alone, "He should know what Joffrey is like."

"No, Bran."

"Sansa, please," he said, his tone earnest, "he's considering a possible match."

"It won't come to that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because if Joffrey ever asks me, I will say no. It's not like it was, Bran. A girl can have a say."

"Yes, but a girl in your social standing?" He asked her. He continued when she didn't answer. "It would be appropriate, smart, and overall a good idea to all those who do not know his true character. You would send society into an uproar, not to mention you'd embarrass the Lannisters. Then what will happen to the relationship between our families? "

"Then let's hope it doesn't come to that," she said, still looking at her youngest brother as he read.

"What will I tell Robb?"

"Nothing," she said sternly, "there is nothing to tell."

"I'm supposed to protect you while Robb and Jon are gone."

"I can protect myself, Bran," she said hollowly, "besides, I don't see myself marrying anyone at the moment."

"Not even Jon?" Bran challenged. He watched his sister carefully as he saw just a hint of color appear on her pale cheeks. It was gone before it had a chance to linger. Bran wasn't sure if he'd imagined it or not.

"Don't be silly, Bran," she said calmly, almost practiced, "Jon is my cousin."

"Not by blood," Bran stated.

"No," she agreed evenly, "not by blood."

He watched her a little longer. He wasn't sure whether or not he should mention what he'd heard of Father and Uncle Benjen's conversation before dinner. His sister was stiff in her seat, almost as if she wanted to run away again. He did not want to do that to her, or to his parents, so instead he stayed quiet. It would be his own secret until it couldn't be his anymore.

Sansa finished her slice of cake and stood up, placing the plate on the small side table. She bent down to kiss Rickon on the head and then went to place a gentle kiss on Bran's forehead.

"You're a good brother, Bran," she said to him softly.

"Sansa, please…tell Father." He pleaded, but all she did was give him a small smile. "Goodnight Bran." He watched his sister leave the room to knock on the study anything, he was more anxious about dinner than before.

Stark House-Study

Catelyn entered the study, a stone cold look inhabited her face. She was not happy, and Ned knew why. He could only endure the scolding that would take place. He could not fight it. He deserved it, he knew that, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"How could you decide something like inviting the Lannisters to our house without consulting me, Eddard?" He sighed. Eddard. She was definitely upset with him.

"I know, Catelyn, I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't magically write me a menu for some of the most difficult guests to entertain! Benjen, did you know of this?" she asked accusingly as she turned from one brother to the next.

"No, Catelyn. Dinner was the first time I heard of it myself."

"So you are making decisions without anyone's council, are you?"

"I am worried for Sansa, Catelyn."

"And so am I!" she shot back, "You don't see me making impulsive decisions." Ned looked at Benjen, who quickly looked into his coffee.

"Benjen gave me some startling news before dinner which influenced my decision," he said slowly. Catelyn looked between the brothers and her anger rose within her. She hated when they got this way. Some things were meant to stay between brothers, but not matters involving her children. Catelyn crossed her arms in front of her waiting for an explanation.

"Benjen, you might as well tell me what you thought was so important for my husband to know." Benjen bent his head and took a breath before standing at his full height. He was taller than Catelyn, but in this moment, he felt as small as a child. He held his head up high as he took a breath.

"Sansa is quite possibly in love with my son," he said, "and when I mentioned that it may cause a scandal if it continued, Ned must have considered a distraction was in order. Further-and arguably- more importantly, Sansa feels trapped. That is why she ran to Winterfell in the first place. She said a few things over the last couple days that lead me to believe she feels the need to be useful. I asked him to at least consider giving her the chance to be so."

"Which I promptly denied the request," Ned interrupted, "I do not want our daughter to be useful if that means being anywhere near a battlefield." Catelyn seemed to have frozen in her place. Benjen could barely discern if she was breathing.

"I warned you about this," she said quietly, "I told you they were no longer children."

"Catelyn…" Ned sighed.

"No, Ned. I said this could happen. I told you it could, but no. Allow them to be so familiar with each other, or to show such public signs of affection like they did at the train station, in front of the whole world! We already have one scandal in the family with Arya being so thoughtless as to run away! We can't abide by another!"

"You sound as if you think Jon below your daughter," Benjen interjected. Catelyn turned her cold glare onto Benjen.

"Sansa is a woman of high scoiety, born of the Stark name. Jon is not."

"Jon has the Stark name. He is my son."

"He does not have the Stark blood."

"Watch it, Catelyn, your prejudices are showing," Benjen growled.

"Take a step down, Benjen, this is not your concern," Catelyn hissed.

"Jon is my son. It is as much my concern as it is yours. Sansa could do much worse than Jon," Benjen heatedly stated, "I like to think my son is an upstanding gentleman of a certain intelligence and gentle, kind nature. A better gentleman than some born into this particular class" he almost spat the word as he met Catelyn's eyes with a particular fire of a parent defending his child. "He is strong, brave, kind, and he loves this family. I dare say, Sansa has fine taste."

"Then are you saying we allow it to continue?" Catelyn said icily. Benjen took a step towards his sister.

"I am sure you've noticed by now, sister, that Sansa will do whatever she damn well pleases whether you try to stop her or not."

"Watch your language in my house, Benjen Stark, or I will throw you out of it," Catelyn said, her voice hard as stone. It was cold in the study despite the blazing fire. Ned watched as his wife and his brother stared at each other with animosity. The tension was present in the silence that permeated the room. Ned prayed for the tension to dissipate without his help when he heard a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," Ned called. Benjen and Catelyn said nothing, only stared at each other. Sansa entered the room, wary of the tension the air held.

"Sansa, my dear, come inside," Ned greeted, almost too happily. He crossed to the desk to pour her coffee the way she liked it.

"I was hoping to talk to you, Father," she said meekly, "is now a bad time?"

"Nonsense!" Ned said before Catelyn or Benjen could say anything, "your Uncle was just leaving, saying his goodbyes." Benjen reluctantly relaxed and found a smile that was convincing enough to give Sansa. He would wear the smile the best he could in front of his nephews and only shed it when he was alone in his carriage on the way home. Catelyn stood down, relaxing her form and making sure her face was pleasantly blank when she turned to face her daughter.

"And I was going to speak to cook about our plans with the Lannisters. Excuse me," she said, passing briskly past Ned and Benjen. Benjen stepped his way out of the study and closed the door, leaving Sansa alone with her father.

"What is it my dear?" he asked handing her a cup of coffee. She took the cup and saucer, but didn't drink from it. Her father sounded tired. She felt guilt settle in her stomach. She didn't mean to cause such problems at home. She put the coffee down on the desk again and smoothed her skirt nervously. She had this confidence when walking up to the doors, but then she heard Uncle Benjen and her mother arguing, and she almost lost her nerve. She had just enough gumption left to knock on the door. Now that she was here, she didn't really know what to say anymore. Bran had a point: he needed to know some of it at least. How much she was willing to tell him was still to be determined.

"I am sorry, Father, for running away, and for causing so much trouble," she said softly, her eyes trained on the floor. Ned crossed to his daughter and wrapped her in a warm embrace. Sansa immediately wrapped her arms around her father, burying her face in his chest and inhaling his scent. He kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair gently with one hand, holding her head to him.

"My sweet girl, it's alright," he said in her hair, "you are suffering. You are allowed to feel upset. Now don't tell your mother," Ned continued conspiratorially, "but I was rather proud of you at the Lannister ball." Sansa picked her head up enough to look her father in the eye.

"You were?" Ned smiled at the brightness in his daughter's eyes.

"I was," he said quietly, "and your diplomacy at dinner, and your compassion towards Tyrion Lannister impressed me even further. You might be a bit more of a rebel than I realized, but you stand up for what you believe in, Sansa. How can I not be proud of you for that?" Sansa's face brightened with a smile as she tucked her head safely back into her father's chest.

"Thank you, Papa," she said into his shirt, "I'm happy to make you proud."

"Now is that all you came in here for?" he asked her, "just to apologize?" Sansa stepped back as she slowly regained some of the confidence she had before.

"No, actually. I had to tell you something. Just to set expectations," she paused as she composed herself.

"Yes?" Ned said expectantly.

"I know Joffrey has had his eye on me for some time," Sansa said. A flash of something Ned couldn't pinpoint crossed his daughter's eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came. She steeled her resolve, presenting the look of cool diplomacy she had shown at dinner.

"I find that it would be best for all involved if I at least set expectations with you when it comes to any relationship between Joffrey Baratheon and I. If in the coming months he asks me to marry him, you should know that I plan to say no. I will try to ensure that there be no reason for him to think I might say yes, and hopefully he will never pose the question, but Joffrey is not one to take the feelings of others into consideration when it is so opposite his own desires." Ned stared at his daughter for a while, the epitome of strength and dignity. He was not surprised to learn that particular thing about Joffrey's character, but he was more than a little surprised to learn that Sansa had such an insight on the young man. Furthermore, she surprised him by having such a foresight he thought unusual of a girl her age. Stop underestimating her, he chided himself, you'll regret it. Have you not already learned this lesson? He felt a peculiar emotion at the news that he could only describe as conflicted. Catelyn won't like this, he thought.

"May I ask why?" he asked.

"I do not love him," she answered evenly with an upwards tilt of her chin, "and I do not want to marry if it is not for love."

"Sansa, many people have married without love," Ned reasoned.

"Times are different now," she stated simply, "besides, I find that I would need-at least a fondness-to be present before the time of marriage. I am not particularly fond of Joffrey. He is charming, but I hear he can sometimes be…difficult." Ned watched his daughter carefully. Fondness….there was that word…

"Is there anyone in particular that you have a…fondness…for?" Sansa's mask nearly slipped, but she held her own, looking at her father until she had enough humility to look down at her feet, but she did not answer.

"I see," Ned replied, "You do not have to tell me, Sansa. Thank you for your honesty." She nodded silently.

"Goodnight my dear," he said to her as a reminder. She crossed to him and kissed him sweetly on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Papa," she said softly, "and thank you for listening."

"Of course my dear. Sleep well." He watched her walk out of the study. Only after the door closed and he was alone with his books did he allow his head to drop in exhaustion. The whole evening was a mess, and now, the coming week would create an even bigger mess. He should have been more careful. Soon, everything would implode. He could feel it.