Author's Notes: Hey everyone, sorry that it has taken me so long to update, a bit of writer's block, as always I own nothing.
After Lord Varys left her Sansa sat in darkness for some time, at least now she knew why nothing had happened to her yet, they were waiting to see if Joffrey died or not. Not that it would make much difference as far the punishment was concerned, though when she thought about it, if he lived Joffrey would doubtless try to think of something crueler than just a beheading. Either way Sansa realized the result was the same, she was going to die. She found that the thought did not fill her with dread as it once might have, she thought back to the time that Joffrey had pointed a crossbow at her and how terrified she had been and found now that part of her wished he had pulled the trigger and spared her the pain that followed.
Well, that was finished now. There would be the formality of a trial and they would find her guilty and chop off her head. It would hurt for a moment, if that, then all of her pain would be over forever. She did not know any longer if there truly was anything waiting for people beyond death but if there was then she would be with her family again in a place where were it was always summer and no one could ever hurt them again. She closed her eyes and felt tears come as she thought about it, she would hug Mother as hard as she could, she would ruffle Arya's hair and her little sister's biting comments would sound sweeter than any of Joffrey's empty words of love ever had. She would tell Robb how proud of him she was and how brave he had been. She would run and play with Bran and Rickon for as long as they wanted. Finally, she would embrace Father and plead with him to forgive her for all she had done.
It all seemed so real that when she opened her eyes again she was half suppressed to find herself still in the black cells. She so wanted the vision to be true that she closed her eyes as tight as she could, but it was already fading like a dream. It made her want to cry but though the vision was fading the serene sense of calm it had given her was slower to fade and that gave her clarity. She would see them soon but first there was one more thing to do before she joined them, she gathered herself and waited.
Soon the sound came that she had been waiting for, the sound of a rat scurrying about. A bold creature, it showed absolutely no fear of her and scurried very close in its search for food. Sansa waited till it was right beside her and then entered into it. In this new form she followed its scent back into the hole it had entered the cell from. She did not know how long she scampered about, everything seemed so different when seen from a rat's point of view, also, the bright lights hurt her and disoriented her. At last, however, she found what she was searching for, the king's quarters. Sir Boros Blount stood watch outside the door but he was looking for human attackers not rats. Just then a maester came up the hall and headed towards the door leading into the King's chamber. He had obviously been expected and Sir Blount let him in without a word, neither observed the rat that scuttled in at the maester's feet.
Joffrey was lying in bed propped, up with pillows and covered in bandages. He looked to be only half awake and his eyes had a slightly glazed look to them. The maester came to the foot of the bed and bowed to him.
"How do you feel your Grace?" He inquired. The king tried to rise to snap at him but fell back on the pillows.
"How do you think I feel you fool? Gods, the pain!" He hissed and grimaced; "Give me more milk of the poppy!" The maester looked uncertain.
"Your Grace, both the Queen Regent and the Hand of the King have expressed concern that you have already taken more than is good for you." If the man meant to say any more he never got the chance as Joffrey rose up, face red with anger.
"I am the king! If I say more milk of the poppy you will get it or I will have you torn apart along with that she-wolf! Now go get more!" With that he fell back again, his efforts clearly having exhausted him. The maester, visibly cowed, hastened from the room. Sansa, crouched in the corner unseen, had watched while she sought to come up with a plan and then one came to her. She followed the maester out of the room then waited in the hallway for him to depart. She then gathered herself and entered Sir Blount.
Fortunately he was half asleep when she did it so she was able but he came fully awake at once. She had experienced entering the minds of others so she knew what was coming but this was the worst she had experienced. While not an intelligent or strong-willed man he was not drunk and he was frightened and that fear gave him a kind of strength. Sansa could already feel her grip on him slipping, there was little time. She forced him to enter the room and bolt the door behind him. Joffrey looked up confused.
"What are you doing Blount?" That voice, which had once set her heart to beating, now filled her with loathing and hatred. But now she was not a frightened girl now, Sir Blount was aging and fat but he possessed far more strength than she ever did. That thought and the knowledge of what was to come gave her strength as she walked up to him, leaned down and brought a smile to her borrowed face.
"Joffrey, my love." She said in a mocking tone. He for his part looked completely confused, a look which swiftly gave way to anger.
"What is the meaning of this Sir Blount!? I do not find it amusing, stop it at once or you shall regret it!"
"Oh, this is no jest, no more than the lies we told about what happened on the King's Road between you and my sister. Or when you took my father's head and called it mercy." Perhaps it was her words or something else but slowly realization came to Joffrey's face, realization and fear. He started to say something but before he could she had wrapped her hands around his throat and began squeezing as hard as she could. This action galvanized Blount and his struggles increased but Sansa had wanted this for too long and was not going to let go, all the while Joffrey struggled and flailed about but he was weakened from over-use of the milk of the poppy and even if he hadn't his blows would still have been powerless against steel armor.
"How does it feel?" She hissed into his ear, all the pain, rage, humiliation and hate that she had felt since her father's death flowing into her voice. "This is what you made me and all those you have terrorized feel. Now it's your turn, there was no one to save my father and there is no one to save you. The North remembers and winter has come for you!" She leaned forward, putting all of Blount's considerable weight on Joffrey's throat, he gave a final gurgle and was still. She looked down at the face of her tormentor. It wasn't enough, she had wanted him to suffer more but he was dead. He was dead, the thought seemed to keep repeating itself over and over in her mind, the terror that had haunted her existence for so long was gone and would never return, as she thought that she felt a sense of joy fill her.
Her grip slackened and she was suddenly cast from Sir Blount and crashed back into her own body. The pain was intense but she was used to it and paid it little mind. She played back what had happed in her mind and smiled. Though she would not be able to hear them in the black cells she knew that the bells would soon be ringing to announce the death of the King. She lay back, closed her eyes and dreamed of her family and a place of endless summer.
Author's Notes: Well there you have it, I hope you liked it. A fitting end don't you think? I hope to speed updates up a little but I make no promises but if I can it will hopefully tide you over till next season of the show. Till next time please keep praying for the American held in Sudan under a death sentence for being a Christian, the other Americans held abroad, kidnapped girls in Africa, trapped Turkish miners and all who need prayer. Bye and may Jesus bless you. Also Happy Father's Day, though maybe not so much for Tywin, ha, ha.