authorsnote: I'm sorry I left this for soooo long, I was really stuck on it! but I've rebranded it, played around and the creativity is back!
do enjoy, and do review.
songrecs: my tears ricochet - taylor swift (I like the long pond studios version the best)
The window called to her.
As they fitted her for her dress, threaded pins through her hair, stitched and sewed quickly at the hem of her dress, added diamonds and rubies and threaded gold and silver through the skirts, as the maids worked furiously on a new maiden cloak, a new Lannister cloak, as she watched their quick but sore fingers.
She only wished for one thing.
As a child she would have been grinning, twirling her skirts, would have been smiling from ear to ear, no doubt Arya would have been running under foot, Septa Mordane would be fussing over her maiden cloak, her Mother would be offering input and advice with a smile, it would have been perfect, it should have been perfect.
Instead, she glances at the open window, at the sun on the horizon, at how high up they are, and wishes to pick up her skirts, half finished, wishes to jump down from her pedestal, pull the pins out of her hair and throw herself out of the open balcony.
How she wishes it, wishes she could plunge and plunge, like the pretty bird they want her to be, could plunge until the ground would swallow her.
She won't fly, she'll fall, fall through the air in an arc, she can pretend she's flying, flying North, even as she ends up a smear on the ground underneath.
That would fill her with satisfaction, to take that away from them, from the Lannister's, crush her claim with the smack of her skull against the pavement. She thinks of that as they stick her with pins, tut at her skinny hips, adjust, and tug at her bodice, try a dozen different necklace and two dozen hairstyles.
Imagines taking it all away from them and manages something near to a smile. Near at least.
Imagines how they'd find her, blood pooling around her, how Cersei would be scolded, Tywin furious, how no one would mourn her, for there was no one left, but how she'd have pulled it all out from them in the end.
She'd be free.
But she is a perfect Lady, it is her only armour here after all, she holds it close, like a wall surrounding her, ice that shields her from all here, that keeps her safe and cold and protected.
So, she does not flinch, or squirm, she does not dash away, try to escape in the most permanent place possible. Instead, she stands still, like ice herself, perhaps a sculpture, doesn't budge, even as they tug at her hair, stick her with pins and cinch her waist. She just stays standing still, hands screwed into fists, digging her fingernails in hard to her palms.
Some blood pools, no one notices.
No one ever does.
"My, my!" A voice calls from the door, and Sansa turns her head, but her expression, guarded, cold, doesn't change. Her eyes remain flat, a beautiful Tully blue, but as though there is no life behind them, no spark, she remains unmoved.
"You look beautiful!" Margaery says as she enters the room. The maids bow their heads, knowing their future Queen is among them, but then they get back to their work, simpering a little, a lot of them are Cersei's creatures, but Sansa has no doubt they'll switch their allegiance when Margaery takes power.
This is the way it is in this awful place, no loyalty, no true bonds, just fickle, switching between those with power and those without.
How could she have craved this place once?
What an utter idiot she had been.
"Thank you" She said politely. Margaery betrayed no hurt as she began to talk about the gown, how she'd look prettier than anyone, how Jaime would be stunned off his feet.
Once Sansa would have chatted along, smiled, and laughed, but it was different now.
Now she was to be a Lannister and the Tyrell's had abandoned her.
In hindsight, she had been a fool again, should have realised Margaery had only befriended her to see her engaged to Willas, to snatch the Key to the North out from under the Lannister's, should have realised no Southerner was kind without some other motive, should have caught on that nothing came freely South of the Neck.
No, instead she'd been a fool, believed Margaery was genuine, that they'd be like sisters, best friends, and she would finally have someone here. Had dreamed of Willas, but even when the Lannister's had married her off to Tyrion instead, she'd hoped her and Margaery could still be friends, forge an alliance as two girls trapped in Kings Landing.
But Margaery wasn't trapped, and any interest she'd had in her as a friend had clearly waned now, she was not to be Tyrell, but a Lannister, and now again.
Even as she smiled, and tried to brighten things up, as the maids cooed and chatted back about her dress and jewels, it all seemed false again.
"Leave us then" Margaery ordered, and the maids scurried out, there was no getting rid of the guards at the doors, but Sansa caught a hint of Margaery's guards engaging them in conversation, evidently to distract them so she and Margaery could talk.
But talk about what? They'd not spoken much since Sansa had been married, her usefulness long gone now, especially as she was to be married and made a Lannister again.
"Sansa" Margaery took her hands in hers then, and Sansa could see a sadness in her former friend, that nearly made Sansa crumple for she wasn't sure she could believe it.
What could she believe here anymore?
"How are you?" She asked, again sympathetic tone to her voice, but how could Sansa trust her now? How could she take anything she said as genuine? Margaery had abandoned her when she could no longer become a Tyrell, her friendship had clearly had a price.
One Sansa would not pay.
"I'm fine thank you" She said stiffly, Margaery looked saddened, but that was nothing compared to how Sansa had felt, abandoned, alone yet again, when Margaery had dropped her for not being a marriage candidate for her brother anymore, "Can I help you with something?"
"Oh Sansa" Margaery said, and if Sansa didn't know what a good actress she was, she might have believed the sadness in her tone and expression, wanted to believe it even, "I'm sorry"
"For what?" Sansa asked, tone stubborn, she was a Stark after all, not easy to forgive, not when honour was broken as it had been.
"You know what" Margaery said with a sad smile, a shake of her head, "I wish things had turned out differently"
Sansa nodded, that was an understatement to her in the least, but there was more to it than that, "It isn't just about that"
Margaery took her hands then, and Sansa didn't withdraw, her heart ached, she knew Margaery had used her and dropped her, knew she shouldn't forgive, but she was so lonely, so very lonely, stubbornness aside, her heart hurt, everything did, how could one person withstand so much pain? And do so alone?
"I'm not always my family" She said gently, "But a lot of the time I have to be, Growing Strong" She said with a small smile and a little laugh, self-deprecating, a side of Margaery the masses didn't see.
Sansa had, once or twice before, maybe there had been genuine moments, but it was hard, to separate when Margaery had been kind to her for her families benefit, for her benefit, and then without motive, to just be a friend, one Sansa had, and still did so desperately need.
"Winter Is Coming" Sansa whispered, her own House words, she was so rarely allowed to say them, it felt nice to for a moment, in the cover here, at the very least she knew Margaery would never tell on her to the Lannisters, "I don't know what to do"
Margaery's smile was sad, as she squeezed Sansa's hands, "I'd like us to still be friends"
"Would you?" Sansa asked, and she hated the desperation that crept into her voice, but there was some stone still there, "I don't have any"
"You have me" Margaery said, more forcefully now, and again Sansa so wanted to believe her, "I promise, and I will win back your trust"
At that Sansa nodded, the loneliness such an ache in her chest, she didn't relent, but she did nod, she did ease a touch, she shouldn't have, there were no real friends in Kings Landing, but she had to grasp at those that at least could be, or wither alone.
Always alone.
She was stronger now, but with this marriage, the pain that would never subside, it all felt like too much, strength be damned.
Always alone.
"What do I do?" She whispered, looking down at the skirts of her dress, as they swirled on the floor, she looked back up at Margaery, hoping she wasn't imaging the sincerity she could see in those brown eyes, she needed some, wherever it came from, "What do I do?"
"You get married" Margaery said gently, understandingly, "And you make the best of it"
"The best of it?" Sansa forced herself not to allow her expression to crumple, if it did, she would, and she was worried she'd never pick herself back up, never.
And maybe that was where her husband to-be would find her, Jaime Lannister, come into the room to find a crumpled Sansa Stark, buried in her wedding dress on the floor, unable to get up, drowning in her own tears.
"We women must" Margaery said, and Sansa did nod, Margaery was in a difficult situation just as her, as much as Sansa knew Margaery wanted to be Queen, she knew she didn't want to be married to Joffrey. They were kindred in that, and Sansa felt something else ease in her further, even managed a small but sad smile.
"I hope we can rely on each other" Sansa said, gentle herself now, and her smile grew a touch as Margaery's did, perhaps she should forgive, not forget, she couldn't afford to forget anything here, but she could forgive, to have one friend here, goodness knows she needed it.
Did that mean she was weak? Or just lonely? Or both? She didn't know.
"Always" Margaery said, "I swear to you" And at that Sansa allowed Margaery to pull her into a hug, foolish as trusting her might be again, she knew at least she wasn't in any danger with the Tyrells, she was nothing to them anymore, that had been the problem.
"Then I better get ready" Sansa said, biting down hard enough on her bottom lip to taste blood, as she heard the guards outside, "The wedding is in just two days"
Margaery nodded, drew back, and then called for the maids outside, both Lannister maids hurried in, but Sansa felt a little warmth in her as two Tyrell ones followed, glaring at the Lannister, she did smile at Margaery then who shot her a wink, before she clicked her fingers.
"Lady Sansa is to become Lady Lannister, make sure she looks perfect" She said, and the maids all nodded, at least, if Sansa had to go down the aisle, if she had to be part of that awful family, she would have a friend in attendance, and she would look beautiful.
She near cried again then, as the maids worked quickly, as Margaery suggested jewellery and slippers, to think her beauty was all that was left.
She'd rather be ugly and never wed, than become a Lannister.
Sadly, there was no choice.
The next night, felt like a night before an execution.
She sat alone in her room, in the middle of her bed, the windows flung wide open, there was a chill in the air, but she revelled in it, it felt more like home, though not nearly enough.
She missed Winterfell and felt it like a physical ache.
Maybe one day she'd return, but it wouldn't be as Sansa Stark, it wouldn't even be as Tyrion's wife, unconsummated, still holding onto the Stark name, no Jaime Lannister wouldn't do her that courtesy, she would return as Sansa Lannister.
Maybe with Lannister children in tow, swallowed by the family that had killed her own.
She knew what Tywin Lannister wanted, an Heir for Casterly Rock after Jaime, an Heir for Winterfell, maybe even one for the Riverlands, Lannister's spreading across the land like a disease.
And they would be her children, she did remember something Cersei had said…
'Love no one but your children, on that front a Mother has no choice'
Somehow, she thought it would be worse to love them, to love Lannister's, it would be easier to hate.
To hate them all.
It festered in her, as she sat, awaiting her wedding day, tears trickled down her cheeks, like diamonds dropping onto the bedsheets. This would be her last night in this room, tomorrow she'd move into Ser Jaimes, tomorrow she'd lie in his bed, tomorrow her maidenhood would be gone.
And she wept.
How could she not?
Sansa Stark wept for what she would become, for what would happen, she wept, and morning came too soon.
I'm currently planning a pairing for margaery but no spoilers yet...
anywho, thoughts? I much prefer the flow of the story now, it is very introspective sansa, but that is the nature of things, it will be the same with jaime.
do let me know watcha think
speak soon(er I promise!)