Author's Notes: Hey everyone, glad that you liked the last chapter and I hope that you like this one as well. As always I own nothing, Martin and HBO do.
Sansa was dragged from the gardens and into the city, a gag was thrust into her mouth to prevent her from crying out. She was taken to the Great Sept of Baelor. They forced her through the main areas where she had been before and found herself in a much smaller room, bare save for a stone alter before which a man knelt, and as they approached he rose and turned towards them. He was an older man, he had to be at least sixty, barefoot like all of the Faith Militant and wearing only a worn and faded robe. He regarded Sansa for a moment, with a look that reminded her of a father, being kind yet stern. After a moment of silence Sansa tried to take the initiative and, recalling her lessons in curtesy, began to speak, making sure to keep her voice calm and respectful.
"May I ask why I was brought here?" He did not answer her question, instead he spoke as if she had not.
"I fear child," he said in a soft voice; "That you are suspected of apostasy and witchcraft."
"Witchcraft?!" Sansa cried, stunned and confused by the accusation. "My father built one of the few septs in the North and my mother and I prayed there regularly." Again he ignored her and continued to question her.
"Tell me child, where you instructed by a septa in your youth?" Sansa was confused but nodded her head.
"Yes, Septa Mordane."
"And did she read the The Seven-Pointed Star to you?" Sansa nodded silently. "What did it say about witchcraft?"
"That it is an abomination to the Seven."
"Indeed it does. And worship of the false gods of the North was taught to men by the fiends that they called the Children of the Forest. They practiced vile sorceries, so they and their gods are both abhorrent to true followers of the Seven. If you were as devout as you claim to be then you would know that and you would not have even pretended devotion to such obscenities."
"My father's family is…was devoted to the Old Gods and their worship has been accepted for centuries and they are sworn by by many." He gave a sad sigh.
"Someone truly devoted to the Seven would know that they come before anything in a person's life, as Brother Lancel has demonstrated. But, alas child, you illustrate a common problem, true devotion is rare in this decadent age. People, even those who know better, have allowed these heresies to continue to fester in the North and elsewhere. Aided by people like you, high-born who claim to serve the Seven but in truth give the gods only lip-service while in truth serving only themselves. Another example would be Sir Loras, as a knight he claims to serve the Seven. Yet he stands accused of violating one of their most sacred tenants. However; the gods are compassionate, if he confesses he will be shown mercy and if you confess you will as well. So, will you confess?"
Sansa did not know what to do. She did not want to disrespect her father's memory or the gods she prayed to. On the other hand, she had learned the hard way what happened when people who held power did not hear what they wanted to hear. And it was not as if the gods, either old or new, had answered her prayers so it was not as if she owed them anything. When she told Tyrion that she no longer prayed that was the truth. She might say a prayer in a time of distress but that was mostly a reflex, in truth she did not really believe in anything so why not simply say whatever it was he wanted to hear?
Yet something stopped her from doing so. Something inside her, her Northern blood perhaps, rebelled at the notion of giving to threats of force. Her family had all stood for what they believed in when faced with violence. If she gave in to this man out of fear, she would be betraying their memory and that was abhorrent to her. She drew herself up to her full height, she was pleased to note that she was taller than he was, and gave her reply as courteous as Septa Mordane had taught her.
"I am Sansa of House Stark Lady of Winterfell and wife of Tyrion Lannister, heir of Casterly Rock and I have done nothing to confess to." He responded with a look of mingled disappointment and sadness.
"Alas, it seems that you are as infested with pride as all of the other nobles in this place and this prevents you from confessing you sins and receiving the mercy of the gods. But fear not, here in this place," he raised his eyes and spread his hands to encompass the entirety of the sept; "We shall strip away that pride and enable you to move towards that mercy." He gave a signal and several septas which Sansa had not seen before came up and seized her.
They dragged her to a group of cells, which Sansa had not known existed in the sept. Her clothing was stripped from her and she was given a simple robe as worn and filthy as the one that the man had worn and she was left in one of the cells. It was cold and damp and she drew herself into a ball in a corner in an effort to warm herself. In addition there were a seemingly endless array of vermin which attacked her constantly. In spite of all of these factors she eventually fell asleep.
She did not know how long she slept till she was awoken by the door to her cell being opened and a hard-faced septa, one of the ones who had seized her, came into her cell. She was nothing like Septa Mordane, she had none of the softness or gentleness that her old instructor had had, this one was all harshness and sternness and had a face with worn leather. She looked a Sansa for a moment and then spoke.
"Confess." She said, her voice harsh and grating. Once that her stern glare and harsh accusatory glare would have cowed and terrified her, but that time was long gone. That had been Sansa of Winterfell, not the Sansa who had endured the deaths of her family, been beaten by knights and spent time in the Black Cells, it would take more than this to make her afraid.
"I have done nothing wrong." She said quietly. The septa did not speak again, instead she lashed out with cord of braided leather. It stung but it did not break the skin and did not hurt as much as steel-encased fists. Sansa knew that she should not say anything but something inside her made her speak.
"I fear that you shall have to hit harder than that if you wish to hurt me as much as others have." The septa's reply was to strike her again. The woman then turned and left. The cell was completely black, having no windows, so after the septa left Sansa had no way of knowing how long time past before the door opened again, this time the septa did not call on her to confess and instead had brought a hunk of dried bread and water which Sansa had to drink straight from the gourd. The septa also took away the bucket which held Sansa's waste.
The cell had no window so except when the door was opened Sansa was in complete darkness. She supposed that the darkness was meant to break those held inside the cells, as was their practice of coming into her cell at random intervals, which prevented her from knowing how much time had passed. Fortunately for her she had a way of dealing with the darkness. Whenever the darkness became too much she would enter the minds of the rats and mice which infested her cell. She could not stay in them long lest the septa come in and discover her but while in the animals' bodies she could leave the cell. She would run from the sept into the streets. This allowed her to feel the warmth of the sun and the feel of wind, these helped her cope with her imprisonment.
She settled into a routine in her cells, she would wait till the septa came to her cell. She would demand that Sansa confess, she would refuse and she would be beaten, this also sometimes resulted in the septa refusing her food. Once the septa left she would go into an animal and revel in her half-freedom but never long and then back to her cell. Then one day the door to her cell opened, but it was not the septa, it was Lord Varys. He entered the cell and bowed.
"Lady Sansa I cannot say how it pains me to see you in this place. As much as it pained me to see you in the Black Cells."
Sansa did not speak at first. Though he had helped her in the past, she was not sure that she trusted him. It had been a message from him, or at least bearing his name, had lured her out where she had been seized. Also, the men who took her had to have gotten into the palace somehow and Tyrion had said that no one knew more about the ways in and out of the palace than Varys. Sansa was tired and that made it hard for her to think of anything clever, so instead she tried the blunt approach.
"I went to the gardens as your message said, but you were not there." He gave a look of pure confusion.
"My Lady, I must confess to my confusion. I sent you no message." She gave him a suspicious look.
"My Lady you wound me. Tell me, what could I possibly gain from having you imprisoned?" Sansa could not think of one but she was still suspicious. Seeing this on her face, Lord Varys spoke again.
"If my presence is so offensive to you shall I depart?" The thought of it distressed her, while should could leave her cell after a fashion she had spoken to anyone save the old man and the septa since she had been seized and she found she desperately wanted to talk to someone.
"No! Stay, please. What has been going on? Why has my lord husband not come?"
"Oh, he wanted very much to come, backed by a rather large force of Lannister men behind him to free you and hang the High Septon no doubt. Unfortunately, the Queen has announced that Lannister men shall not interfere with the Faith Militant and the men are loyal to her not to Tyrion. Where he to come here alone he risks arrest, something about whoring and adultery. He has also been rather busy keeping that bodyguard of yours from singlehandedly storming the sept and slaughtering every Faith Militant she crosses, a valiant but ultimately futile gesture."
"Surely the Hand of the King, their father, will not stand for this."
"Indeed, I fear that the High Septon is storing up trouble for himself. We received a raven from the Lord Hand to inform the Small Council that he is returning from the Twins. I fear that we shall all be in for censure when he returns and those on the receiving end of Lord Tywin's censure rarely find it a pleasant experience, as House Reyne could attest if any were still among the living."
"What of the King?"
"I fear that his Grace has become so distraught with events that he keeps mainly to his rooms, leaving the governance of the Realm to the Small Council and his regent, the Queen Mother.
"I have come to inform you that your trial and that of Sir Loras shall being at noon tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Sansa said, not quite believing it, she had half believed that she would be in the cell forever. "But I have not confessed to anything."
"That matters little, a confession is not necessary if evidence can confirm the accusations and I fear that there is little doubt that you continue to hold to the gods of the North." He paused for a moment and then spoke again. "If I may be so bold, it might be better when you trial occurs to announce that you renounce them. It would preserve your life and regain your freedom." She said nothing for a moment, she found that she did not want to explain to him why she would not, she did not want to have to explain to him why it was so important not lose one of the last connection to her family, so instead she only replied.
"I will not." He sighed sadly.
"Alas, I feared that you would say that. You are your father's daughter."
"I am." She said.
I am my father's daughter. She thought to herself. But I will not die like he did. I have too much to do, I will leave this place and I will avenge you and mother and all the rest! My time in Dorne is over and I have work to do.
Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, I said that they would be longer I know but I cut this one short. For the next chapter there is going to be a back-and-forth between her and the High Sparrow and I want to get the wording right. So, do you think Varys is lying and if so why? Till next time, please pray for the two Sudanese pastors held under threat of death for their faith, as is the Pakistani woman and all those sick and those in danger and all who need prayer. Bye and may Jesus bless you all.