Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11234220.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin, A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_&
      Related_Fandoms, Game_of_Thrones_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Tywin_Lannister/Sansa_Stark, Sansa_Stark/Original_Female_Character(s)
  Character:
      Sansa_Stark, Tywin_Lannister, Tyrion_Lannister, Original_Characters, Red
      Lester
  Additional Tags:
      Older_Man/Younger_Woman, Marriage, Rape, Rape_Aftermath, I_recently
      thought_of_my_own_creepy_encounters_with_men_at_12-13, which_inspired_me
      to_write_a_more_realistic_take_on_this_ship, Darkfic, Emotionally
      disturbing_fic, Big_fat_trigger_warning_for_rape/non-con, Trauma, Hurt/
      Comfort, Small_measure_of_agency, AU:Tywin_marries_Sansa_himself, Don't
      hate_me_dear_Sansa/Tywin_shippers, Some_canon-typical_ableist_language
  Series:
      Part 4 of One_shots
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-18 Words: 1983
****** White Snake ******
by Delay_no_more
Summary
     "It looked like a thick, white snake with purple veins, a terrifying
     snake with no eyes and a round mouth."
Notes
     Same old "what if Tywin had married Sansa himself" scenario, but
     through a 13-year-old's eyes.
     I recently talked with a friend about all the traumatizing
     experiences we had with men when we were teens. Let's just say there
     was plenty to talk about. It reminded me how disturbing af being
     exposed to adults' sexuality felt when I was 12-13. That's where the
     idea for this fic came from.
She clasped her stained glass cup so tightly her knuckles had turned white. The
wine was sweet and strong. The Imp had told the servants to fill her cup
generously. “A gentler man would wait a few years, but my lord father is no
gentle man, I fear,” he'd told her. “Now, wine won't make the world any kinder,
but it does make it more bearable, I find.”
The strongwine did numb her, making everything around her seem blurry and oddly
distant. Sansa took another sip. Gentle Mother, strength of women. She had been
repeating the same line in her head over and over again as if her life depended
on it. As long as the Hymn of the Mother filled her head, she did not have to
think of what lay ahead.
Her handmaidens had argued about the Lord Hand's intentions for her when they
thought she wasn't listening. “He'll kill her as soon as she's given him an
heir,” the younger one had whispered. Faye. Sansa knew the girl reported to the
Queen. “No. He needs her to secure the North,” her older sister Eleana had
disagreed. “The Northmen are savages. They will only follow a true wolf.”
A cold wave of dread washed over her when Lord Tywin rose, announcing his
intention to retire. Nobody dared demand a bedding though, and for a moment,
Sansa thought she might be spared the worst part of her wedding night. No-one
will ask proof of him. It can be done another time so long as I'm with child
within the year.
But her relief was short-lived when two fingers tapped her shoulder. She
clenched her cup so hard the glass broke between her fingers, wine trickling
over the table onto her lap, leaving a dark red stain the color of blood on her
ivory gown.
For a moment, all she could do was stare at it. Then the fingers tapped her
again. Sansa turned around. A red cloak. Lem? Lester? Lum?She'd known the man's
name once.
The room started spinning as she rose. She had to lean on the table and lower
her head to prevent herself from falling over. The Lannister household guard
grabbed her arm. “Hurry.” He hissed in her ear. “His lordship doesn't like to
be made to wait.”
They crossed the courtyard in silence, heading for the Tower of the Hand. No
matter how fast Sansa walked, the guard was always a few steps ahead of her.
There was light in the tower. This is my home now. The thought turned her
stomach. If I run, maybe I can make it to the moat... But the guard would be
faster than her, she knew.
Old Beth greeted them at the door to the Hand's solar. The stout serving woman
was loyal to the Lannisters as well, but Sansa liked her better than the girls
her age.She has kind eyes. Or perhaps it just seemed that way because she had
never heard the woman whisper about whether she was meant to live or die in her
marriage.
“His lordship is waiting in m'lady's bed-chamber,” Beth told the red cloak.
“I'll take her inside.” She gave Sansa a smile. “What a beautiful bride you
are, m'lady. I wish I had looked that beautiful on my wedding day. Come with
me.”
Lord Tywin was by the window, looking outside. He turned around when he heard
them coming. “Lady Sansa.”
“M'lord.” Beth courtsied.
I should say something, Sansa thought. A kind word to make him feel at ease, a
compliment. It was her duty as a lady. But her mind was blank and her throat so
dry it almost hurt. All she could do was stare at his bald head and that grim,
hard face. He's so old. And his eyes, his eyes... Mother have mercy...
His eyes were so cold, they seemed to freeze her in place. “Help her undress,”
he told Old Beth.
Sansa lowered her eyes as the old woman unlaced her gown in the back, gently
pulling it down before removing her undergown and helping her out of her
smallclothes. “Call for me if you need anything, m'lord,” she said, bowing.
Then, she was gone.
Gentle Mother, font of mercy...Sansa was fighting the urge to cover herself,
her eyes fixing the marble floor, still unable to look up. He's my husband now.
He has a right to see me.
When she finally raised her head, he had pulled out his manhood. It looked like
a thick, white snake with purple veins, a terrifying snake with no eyes and a
round mouth. He was stroking it, making it grow. Sansa quickly turned her eyes
again. Oh gods, he'll be mad at me for looking away.
But Lord Tywin did not seem to care. He motioned with his head towards the bed.
“Lie down.” His mouth was tight, his eyes fixing her as she tried to get her
legs to obey her.
Her body was petrified. I can't do this.Warm fluid was running over her thighs
and down her legs. Oh gods be good, gods be good. She tried to clench her
muscles to make it stop, but the water just kept rushing out until her bladder
was empty.
Her lord husband seemed unfazed, handing her a piece of cloth. “Clean yourself
up,” he said. “And see this doesn't happen again.”
He never took his eyes off her as she wiped her legs dry and knelt down to let
the cloth soak up the puddle on the floor. Gentle Mother, strength of women,
help our daughters through this fray...The blind snake was bobbing its head in
the air.
Somehow, she managed to stumble to the bed on shaky legs, lying down on her
back. “Soothe the wrath and tame the fury, teach us all a kinder way.” She
didn't realize she was mouthing the words until she saw the disapproving look
on Lord Tywin's face, but he did not say anything.
His breathing had turned shallow as he lowered himself on top of her, fumbling
between her legs. His face was uncomfortably close to her own. His eyes looked
glassy, distant, as if the person who had been in there just moments ago had
left his body, and his breath smelled... old. Just old.
Sansa had to force herself not to turn her head. She would have given anything
for another glass of strongwine. This is my duty. She told herself. I'm doing
my duty.
She felt a dull ache and a burn that spread through her belly and up her spine
as he forced himself into her. Tears shot to her eyes. Gentle Mother, strength
of women... teach us all a kinder way.
Every thrust felt like a stab in her gut, the pain radiating through her body.
She'd never given the act itself much thought, but somehow, she had not
expected it to last so long, stab after stab after stab. Or perhaps it just
felt long, she couldn't say for sure.
It was as if she could watch herself from above as she was staring at the
ceiling, her husband grunting on top of her like an animal, his back heaving up
and down. Gentle Mother, font of mercy...
And then, when she had almost given up hope, the gods heard her prayers.
Something damp spread inside of her, and Lord Tywin pulled out at last.
“Keep your legs closed. It will help the seed quicken,” he told her before
rolling over, closing his eyes as if nothing had happened.
Sansa waited until his breathing had become steady before she dared to move. He
has his own bed-chamber. Why can't he go there? Why does he have to stay here
with me?She was so close to the edge of the bed she was scared she might fall
off.
Still sobbing, she got up, unsure where to go. All she knew was she had to get
out of her bed-chamber. Every move sent ripples of pain through her body. Her
thighs felt cold and sticky as blood and seed oozed out between her legs.
Old Beth caught her in the solar. It was only then that Sansa realized she was
still naked. “M'lady! Sweet child, are you alright?”
Sansa nodded. “Yes... yes... I'm alright. I just... I just need to wash. Will
you draw me a bath?”
The old serving woman looked distraught. “I can't... I have orders... if his
lordship hears... there'll be trouble, m'lady... is better for you too if you
don't...”
“Please!”
She must have sounded so desperate and made such a sorry sight, the woman took
pity on her. “I'll heat the water, m'lady.”
It felt good to soak herself in the warm bath, scrubbing her body clean. Her
ladyparts still ached, but at least they no longer felt sticky with filth.
She held her head under the water, and for a moment, she felt so removed from
the world it was almost like she was her old self again. None of this is real.
It's just a nightmare. But eventually, she had to come back to the surface. If
the seed doesn't quicken, he'll try again. And again, and again, until I carry
his bloody heir. And who knows, maybe that won't make him stop, either, maybe
helikesthis.
Sansa looked at her arms, suddenly wishing she had a blade to open her veins.
It won't hurt much in the warm water, she thought. I'd be gone before anyone
would even notice. She should have taken her lord husband's dagger. “I wish I
was never born.”
“You mustn't say such things, m'lady!” She hadn't heard Old Beth come in.
“It'll get better, m'lady, it will, you mustn't say such things!”
The woman helped her out of the bath, drying her off. She had brought her a
night gown as well, slipping it over Sansa's shoulders. “Go back to bed, get
some sleep, m'lady.”
“I can't go back in there! I can't, please don't make me!”
Old Beth furrowed her brows. “You have to get some sleep, child. You're his
lordship's wife now. Tomorrow will be a long day. I'll get a whipping if I
don't see you back to bed, m'lady!”
“Please! I'll go anywhere, just don't make me go back in there. Please, I won't
be able to sleep in that bed. Can't I just stay with you?”
The woman studied Sansa, and the fear in her eyes gave way to something else.
“Come with me. I'll see what I can do. But it won't be comfortable like your
own bed, m'lady.”
Sansa couldn't have cared less. She gladly followed the old serving woman to an
inconspicuous door right next to the privy.
The room was no bigger than a closet, and all it held was a bed and two girls
cuddled up in it, sleeping.
Old Beth shook the older one's shoulder. “Elly! Make some room, girl. M'lady
needs a place to sleep.”
Eleana sat up. At first, there was confusion in her eyes when she noticed her
lady standing by her bed. But then she nodded and moved over, lifting the
blanket. Sansa crawled into bed next to her.
“Try to get some sleep, m'lady,” Old Beth told her, caressing her face. “I'll
wake you so you'll be back in your bed before the sun rises. If his lordship
comes asking for you, I'll tell him you're in the privy, send him back to bed,
you can count on me.”
I won't sleep, Sansa thought. But at least I'll have a few hours of peace.
Eleana wrapped an arm around her. “Shh, m'lady! It's alright. Sleep now.
Everything will be better tomorrow.”
I'll still be married tomorrow, Sansa thought as she rested her head on the
other girl's chest. But for just a brief moment, she felt safe for the first
time in months.
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