Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/745428.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale, Jackson_Whittemore, Scott_McCall, Allison
      Argent, Kate_Argent, Sheriff_Stilinski, A_lot_of_other_characters_that_I
      can't_be_bothered_to_type_out
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Medieval, Pseudo-Incest, Werewolves, Magic
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-04-02 Chapters: 1/? Words: 4608
****** you win (or you die) ******
by colferstilinski
Summary
     A boy of only ten and two loses the only blood he has left in the
     world.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Moons ago, there was a long, brutal winter that came and shrivelled out half of
living men in the West. It swept through the planes of Falister lands with
death and agony, and for those who had not outsmart the cold, they wilted into
still corpses, buried under the whitest of winter’s rain.
The cold finally did withdrew after a stretch of time, and so did the return of
the nomads and common folks who had ran from the West to the other regions of
Falister to seek for warmth and bricks over their heads. However, there was a
house that made its known after winter blew over.
They used to be a myth, told with folly and morbid curiosity, since not one
soul knew of them – knew of their disappearance summers ago – but they’ve rose
from the hidden depths of Falister, hailed upon the West, and called upon the
nearly barren land as their own, with a commitment to build a kingdom out from
dust and sand,Beacons.
As they came, they also brought about the new knowledge to the other seven
kingdoms, documented on parchment and stamped with a sigil of their house as
the eighth kingdom to deem in all of Falister. It is noted in dark washed ink
that whoever demanded for war upon them would be returned with death and
paraded in humiliation for their home people to weep.
The Hales, they call them, the towns’ people in the West.
The Hales are known for their usual stealth and their dexterous handling for
battle in the heart of night, and that those who carried the surname all bore
the same uncanny eyes of an animal that preys—it is said to be a wolf, a beast
with eyes that lit with the night’s sun.
These stories of them are bred through common talk at the market places,
fostering whispered awes from the children and grunted soliloquys from those
who mocked them in between dark alleys where men traded stones for good meat
and fruits while whores dangled their private bits in poorly clothed bodices.
It’s all that anyone does to feel normal anymore. The quiet gossiping, the
inane and dubious talk of their kingdom rulers for the war has long been done
and the threat of winter returning has waned greatly since it is now dawning
upon the hottest year of summer since the return of the Hales, and rain has yet
been sighted for in weeks.
There were other stories too, terrifying ones, those that were told to settle
the unruly babes into a good step.
Most of them were about a witch, cunning and sly she was, was taken and trained
by the Jasckies. They are a small group of magic practitioners that lives in a
small town masked in with mountains at the far North and they claimed her in
their house, nurturing her like their own with wisdom about the darks and reels
her in with maegi and taboo.
Maegiis a darkness of magic spelt only by a woman who bears a tainted heart,
one who shall never swell with fruits in her womb. It is the basest of magic
that even the wisest of maesters are taught never to dabble with and are
largely frowned upon in any housed kingdoms with respectable names that
practices it.
To meddle with maegi is unspeakable even in the now, a practise of where a
witch is made to sacrifice one’s blood for life, or an innocent born for
unspeakable powers.
It is then said that is because of her, the witch of maegi, who spun a curse
upon the Hales before she died in a blood storm of fire and ash from the
imbalance of life. Her magic dealt through regardless, it made the Hales
impeccable at battle, however, their calling for the days where the night sun
is at full mast are their greatest weakness. The one and only that renders them
almost incapacitate with pain that comes with the breaking of bones, and
humanity.
These were just myths though, stories that were spun by old fools who can’t
tell apart their sons and brothers in light.
However, since the return of the Hales, just fifteen moons shy is when the
first kingdom called bluff.
The house of the Barothes, the older common folks would tell. They were a sea
over by the North, a small island bred with ruthless barbarians that drank and
ate themselves into a vulgar stupor.
They rode their ships down on at the breaking of dawn and docked upon the coast
of Beacons at the settle of dusk. They stead on their horses and rode towards
Beacons with unsheathed swords at the ready on their hips and mouths full with
a merry song.
‘Seek ye o’ shall die in vain, Seek ye Hale o’cowards they will run. Fight ye!
Fight ye, or thus shall be murdered with our cocks and fists!’
The Barothes died in heavy vain that night with their act of underestimating
the Hales and overestimating themselves to be stronger than they really were.
The whole town was filled with their war cries that slowly tremored to guttural
shrieks of pain when arrows shot from the dead of night, flamed with fire and
poisoned ash that hooked their hearts in precise aim. It burned flesh in their
wake until hundreds of Barothes men were left writhing on sand and mud until
the morning light washed the last of their whimpers away.
All one thousand, three hundred, and forty eight Barothes died that night and
the world saw a kingdom lost while the Hales only lost twenty three of their
finer knights, along with ten innocent civilians that caught amidst of their
war.
It was also the same night where a boy of only ten and two loses the only blood
he has left in the world.
-
He tries even though his entire body is shaking, chest heaving with barely
contained grief and hazy smoke but nothing seems to work. His limbs are too
short and stunted from his age, movements too slow and jarring from
inexperience at battle and the lick of flames scorches up to an unbearable heat
that he can hear the sizzle of flesh being torched.
He wails out in a frenzy of choked up sobs, summoning for a help that never
comes, until finally, it’s too late.
His father seizes up on the muddy ground, screaming and convulsing, globs of
blood frothing at the mouth while his body lights up in a bright dance of
flames, lit from the arrow jacked at his neck, burning skin and tender sinew
until—
Until the screams from his father halts in the air and his sorrowful ones are
meshing into the chaos of night. Until his father’s blood pools into a murky
russet of extinguished pain and agony around his feet. Until his father burns,
and burns, with his corpse left dried and crusty with flakes of the aftermath.
A bastard son he no longer is, and on this night he becomes a bastardized
orphan with no home, no money and all that is left are stains of his passed
father’s blood, wet and rotting, on his hands and the scabs of his knees.
The boy mourns into the morning.
-
“Come child, seat.” The lady speaks, patting softly onto the small space beside
her on the bench just outside the shop where she seats. Her voice is thick and
foreign, accent unlike most of the common Westerners, and her hair is done
nicely in a sweet bun with wisps of greying blonde hair framing her face. “I
may be blind and old, but I know your father has sought out for a good buy at
the wet markets, so come, seat, and talk to a dying lady. Nothing is to be
bought with pottery when the day’s sun is the highest.”
The boy scrunches his nose, shaking his head jerkily even though she can’t see.
“Father told me to stay in the store, guard his pots, and you know I am my
word. I’ve promised.”
She laughs, palpable like the wind on the hills. “Aye, you sweet child, that is
why you are a good son, I should steal you and call you mine, but ah, to the
old gods I swear that this will be a good story. It may very well be my last.”
“That is what you say too in all the past times.” He admonishes her kindly, a
chuckle dying on his lips. He leaves his post where he sits on a small stool at
the back, hands wet with warm clay and oil. “You are no noble lady, Avilynne,
but your words are too sweet.”
“I get the company I want, don’t I?” Avilynne says and there’s a warm smile
present on her face when he seats beside her, the creases at her eyes folding
with age. “How are you, boy?”
“Good,” He tells her, biting his lips hesitantly as he wipes his dirty hands
onto his woollen trousers. “Father says he may return to Crasmere a fortnight
soon.”
“So soon?”
“Yes, he says that harvest of wheat and corn are the finest during this time of
year, and that he has enough gold to spare to get us new wools for clothes,
but—” He sighs, shoulders slumping with the movement. “—I wish he would bring
me too! I am big enough to ride now. Fat Thomas even lets me ride his goat!”
“Silly boy,” She joshes playfully. “Horses are much bigger than goats, and you
need a saddle to ride on one, too. Do you know how to work a saddle?”
“Yes,” The boy says indignantly, with an air of fake confidence. “Of course I
do!”
Avilynne smacks her tongue at him, shaking her name until he relents.
“Fine, maybe I don’t, but that don’t mean that father can’t teach me. I’m not a
stupid child.”
“Not stupid,” Avilynne says, her clouded eyes blinking into the sun’s heat.
“But, nevertheless, still a child.”
He jumps to his feet, impish anger bubbling at the back of his throat. How dare
she? This woman is nothing but a commoner like him yet she thinks herself. Yes,
he may be a bastard boy but that don’t mean he is worthless.
“I turn ten and two in the next full moon which makes me no child, Avilynne,
and you’ve come to my father’s store, invite me for company, but yet you mock
me in my face. I should chase you out of my store’s front.”
The lady pulls a tight smile like she has had her fair share of babes’
insolence. “Then answer me boy, have you seen the wars? Have you watched the
person you love knifed in the stomach with an old kitchen’s cutter that’s too
blunt to even cut through pigs? A bastard child you are, but that don’t mean
you are a man. You are no knight to the Hales but a peasant boy, just like I am
to the West.”
“Do not call me no peasant,” He roars, wiping furiously at his eyes.
“Good,” She says. “Now you taste the anger in your mouth, aren’t I right, boy?
I need you to be angry for this story.”
The boy, exasperated and cheeks tinting in pink, yells out, “Are you mad,
Avilynne? Have you gone mad with age?!”
“Seat, child,” She tells him ruefully. “I need you angry, not spouting ill of
me.” She stills, her lips pursed, until the boy inches back onto the seat
reluctantly. “This is my last story, boy. I do know this. I can feel it in my
weakened bones. I may sleep tonight and never wake in the morrow, so I beg you
an ear, and your temper—for me, for my story, for my last words.”
He grimaces at her words but reluctantly hums an affirmative acknowledgement
for her to continue.
“The East,” Avilynne begins, a sweet longing laced with sadness in her voice.
Heavy, unlike how she starts with her other stories. “It held a sun that bathed
for days in the skies, m’boy. Not like Beacons, not like where we house in the
West, oh gods no. The lands there? They bled heat, and were always kept honey
kissed warm with sand, fielded with a wild array of tall grasses, trees and the
wilderness.”
The boy huffs, displeased. “I know of the East. Father has talked of it once
when I was a babe.”
Yes, he remembers. It’s a faint memory, just a small broken collection of rough
voices and smells that consisted in it, but it was definitely there. He
remembers that moment because it was the first time his father picked up his
cup and drank his fill in red.
Father has always hated wine.
“Is that true, child?” She bristles, clicking her teeth. “Did you know that
winter never do come in the East? Not even the longest winter had a chance
against their heat, and that only once every year will the skies cry? That is
only after weeks of sun and sweat—I have known some whom have died from the sun
there.”
“What?” He chokes out, snickering, the anger from before ebbing slowly from his
body. “Do they not know how to seek shelter?”
“You should not laugh at people’s deaths, boy, and had I not said I needed you
to be angry?”
“Yes, Avilynne.”
She continues her story about how in the East live three kingdoms all in
copacetic allies. The most well-known house is said to be the house of Pardieu.
They live closest to the East wall, and have the largest in strength in their
army and common people. She then whispers a gossip take that they actually
sailed from the seas, from the far lands beyond where men have ever shipped,
and that they all speak in their native language of Argentiuns rather than the
common tongue.
The next house, she tells, is far smaller, just five hundred in tally. The
MurCroals. Most of the men from there are raised to be knights for the
Pardieu—their lives are signed for it upon moment of birth. Either that or they
are to be led out with common lives with their wife and families while working
as being an armorer, a blacksmith, and the odd trader there or two.
The last house is more of a small guild that belongs to the kingdom rather than
known as a house. The Whittes. Most of them were formed by the same blood, so
the Pardieu had granted acknowledgement for their refined skins and thereby
adhered for them to be the safe keeper and are the last house to complete what
is thus known as The Kingdom of the East.
“I bore a child with a man I have come to love and to wed in the East, just
five summers after winter came in the West. I swelled with a boy, and birthed a
fat babe in my arms who wrapped his small hands on my little finger after he
took his first breath, but he was taken from my arms—stolen from me on his
fifth breath and slaughtered in my face by a midwife who helped me birth.”
“Avilynne—” He starts, bottom lip quivering, but she shakes her head,
interrupting.
“Don’t feel sorry for me boy, I don’t need your pity.” She spits, blinking
harshly at the tears welling in her eyes. “That was years ago, and my son would
have been your father’s age if here were to live. He’s dead, and I’ve mourned
for years for his passing. I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to avenge for
me.”
“Avenge?” He sniffles, wiping the mucus dripping from his nose.
“Yes,” She says. “Grow up, learn to saddle a horse, wield a sword with a
bastard’s hand and avenge for me, for my dead babe. Would you? My morrow is
bleak and I’ve no sons or daughters in my husband’s surname, gods—promise me
you would, child?”
“I’m no knight.” He tells her. “I’ve no gold for steel to buy a sword, and no
stones for any horses. Pray tell, sweet Avilynne, how would I avenge you? I am
just a child, like you said.”
“Then lie to a dying lady, bastard.”
The boy hardens his face even though his cheeks are blotchy with tear tracts
and eyes are red rimmed with unfallen tears. “I promise.”
-
He leaves her that noon with a torn piece of paper in hand and a name in his
palm.
Catherine Pardieu.
-
When the morning sun starts to rise, he wipes away the dry caking of pitiful
sleep and tears on his eyes and settles a small satchel on his back that he
retrieved from his now rundown home. He has a handful of stones in his pockets
from where Father left hidden under the thin quilts on the mattresses they lay.
He sets for the East and prides himself that he only looks back once.
-
The boy manages to go on foot for about two weeks and a little before his boots
finally gives way. He grouses vehemently under his breath with each step until
the ground betrays him and almost made him fall on his face when the torn sole
of his boots got stuck onto uneven rocks.
He decides to call it a rest, wiping the sweat pooled at his throat as he limps
to a dry patch of grass nearby that’s shadowed by a large leafy willow.
There’s bitterness in his thoughts as he plops himself down, grunting at the
sour leavings in his thighs, most of them are inner turmoil and anger that he
is unable to ride.
If he could, he would have stolen a horse back in Beacons, and would have made
travelling through these jagged roads he current embarks infinitesimally
easier. However, the commoners that live in the village back home have never
been taught to ride, and for those who do, never have enough gold to purchase
any horses.
There are exceptions though. Fat Thomas is one of them. He is a boy birthed
into a large family that comes with a small wealth from maintaining a long
stretch of farms that sells meat to the markets. He has uncles and cousins that
also help make side earnings of real gold and silvers through trading too—Fat
Thomas even showed him a coin made of gold once.
He got jealous and stepped on his toe.
“Your stories of brave men and knighthood in the forest are proper bullshit,
Avilynne.” He snarls bitterly, voice raspy from disuse, while he kneads at his
calves until it loosens up under his fingers before he starts to work the laces
of his boots with jerky movements.
The boots are of no use now, leather is heavily discoloured from lengthy use
and the stitches he did near the wooden patens for father are beyond state for
any repairs even if he tries. The material around it have curled and frayed
from his previous bad needlework.
He is no lady with nimble fingers with a harness for good focus, gods no. He’s
just a little bastard child who spends too much time spinning warm clay in his
hands until it moulds into something worthy to be sold for two stones. Just
enough for stale bread.
He sighs dejectedly and watches the way his boots falls onto the grass with a
dull thud after he shakes them off vigorously.
There’s still a lot more yards to cover before he reaches the East, which is if
he rides, but if he continues to go on foot—It is twice the distance more, and
the thought of it makes him wince. With that, his stomach rumbles, loud and
unpleasant, gurgling the hunger he has tried to ignore for the last few hours.
He hasn’t eaten in three moons, and the days before, he was living off fruits
he founds in high trees, shattered nuts and rotten mushrooms he dug out from
mucky grasses. He doesn’t even have a knife on him to slaughter a forest
wilding to feast—Avilynne was right.
She always is.
He is just a child, no more a fool than the ones who juggles for the King, only
to be sent to their death by the lions.
He sighs, picking himself up from the ground and slings the satchel around his
shoulders, giving his boots one long, forlorn look before he continues to walk.
The night’s sun is drawing soon and these parts of the forest are no good to
set camp for sleep. He learnt that on the first moon when he wakes up with four
snakes slithering around his feet before he shits himself.
There’s just one thought thrumming in his mind as he walks: Crasmere isn’t too
far, anyway.
-
He only reaches Crasmere a fortnight later and by then the soles of his feet
have hardened into the likes of leather, peppered with a variety of healed to
newly lashed out cuts. He knows that if anyone takes just a brief glance at
him, they would mistake him for a homeless peasant, and they’d be right.
The skin coloured tunic he dons on has holes in several places and it’s muddied
with blood and wet sand from the forest pathways while his dull brunette hair
that has grown out a little after two full moons of not grooming is now slick
with sweat and grease.
There is an uncomfortable itch under his skin that he can’t rid of for days
not. The feel of grime and muck on his face, armpits, and around his cock—all
the places that has never dawn on him before is now an annoying persistence at
the forefront of what he does.
The last time he stood under clean water was just three days past before he
left for the West, and it was in a small bath shack that Brom maintains with
his brothers, two corners down from father’s store.
It’s a dingy place, dully lit with cheap waxed candles and unpolished granite
floors. No babes his age or younger usually enters unless they are mothered by
whores—except for him. He goes there with big, pleading eyes and a handful of
pottery as gifts in exchange for a working shower when begging gets him
nowhere.
However now, there’s just a constant stench of his own perspiration and musk,
pungent like rotten fish down at the docks and his skin littered with scabs.
Yet, nothing compares to the hunger that lies at the sides of his stomach.
It twists and sours in him until he actually goes down on his knees and plucks
grass to keep his mouth busy with chewing. The things he would do for a warm
meal with fresh bucket water flushing down and a quilt that keeps him warm when
the moon is high—the people he would kill for it.
It startles him when he finally reaches on land that isn’t mud and forest and
greens. He peers up through exhausted vision and squints around—there’s light a
few miles up, a wavering smell of cooked meat and the bustle of civilization.
He runs for it.
-
Crasmere isn’t like how he pictured whenever Father shares with him about his
trips. Instead, it’s a small town with narrow bricked walkways, wooden crates
littering north and south with silks, white pigeons and spices. The people are
rude, grimacing at him as he walks past—especially the wives tending to their
husbands at their booths.
He manages to steal a loaf of bread from one of them, runs away with it tucked
in his armpits and hides in a sharp corner, gorging into it with a pleasurable
moan when his teeth sinks into it.
“Didn’t your father teach you that stealing is bad, boy?” A man grunts out.
He snaps his eyes up, roving at the man as he makes out if he’s dangerous. He’s
no older than thirty with a battle scar splashed across his face and his hair
is kissed by the sun. On his stomach, a thick leather belt is pulled tight over
the glinting silver mail he has on.
“He would,” He wipes his mouth hastily and spits at his shoes. “But he’s dead.”
“Hm,” The man says, humming as he slowly approaches him. He darts his eyes
around and wonders if he can make a run for it—if he’d die while making a run
for it. He’s never been a taker of risks, always deciding to be a coward and
hide behind his father’s legs.
If he dies, he’s gonna die not being afraid.
“Then what’s a boy like you doing here in Crasmere?” He asks and he sounds
genuine in the question but the smirk on his face tells him otherwise. “No
food. No money. No father.”
He flinches away when the man is in front of him.
“Answer me, boy.”
“The-- the East,” He stutters out. “I’m heading for The East.”
“You’ve got business… at the East? You don’t look like no Easterner to me.” He
says and grips him tight at the face, digging nails into his cheeks. His eyes
well up with tears before he can push away the salty twist at the corner of his
eyes. “You gonna go there and steal some more, boy?”
“No,” He answers pitifully, looking straight into the man’s eyes that are the
colour of the sea—blue and lost in the horizon. “I want to be knighted with
power. I want to fight with a sword and armour and kill the men who killed my
father.”
“Revenge, eh?” The man chides, laughing. “You’ve got the same fire I have. I
see it. I can almost taste it in your blood. You know how I know?”
He shakes his head.
“Because I just travelled mile away from home to kill my Uncle,” He tells.
“Yeah, staked that son of a bastard with my dagger in his cock and tore his
insides open.”
He gasps.
“Don’t kill me, Ser.” He pleads tearfully, fear humming under his skin. “I—I
won’t steal again. I promise to you.”
The man snorts and loses the grip he has on him with a tasteful click of his
tongue. “Psk, why would I want to kill you, boy? You have no gold and no weapon
delightful enough to be of envy. No. I want to help you. Revenge is sweet,
m’boy. I’ll tell you that. I will help you. What’s your name, orphan?”
“Stilinski,” He says and rubs on his face, can feel the lingering pressure of
the man’s fingers still digging into his skin.
“Aye, Stilinski.” The man says and he sounds almost mocking. “I am Ser
Whittemore, first knight of House Whittemore and the Pardieu and I’ve gave an
orphan boy my word and I will swear on it. A knight I will make you be, and
revenge will be what you seek. That’s your word. Don’t fuck with me, boy, or I
will have the entire Kingsguard hang you on the chains and feed you to the
sun.”
“Yes,” Stilinski trembles, hesitating for a while his brain clicks to how the
last name sounds familiar until he makes the connection. “M’lord.”
Whittemore smacks him on the head. “I am no Lord. I am a knight—a murderer of
my own blood and I’m teaching you to kill. I am nowhere a lord, foolish boy.
Jackson, I am. Don’t call me no Ser or your tongue would be on my blade.”
He nods.
End Notes
     It's a work in progress and I don't know if I should continue this.
     (slumps pathetically)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
er easier for me to write.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The next day, when I when passed through the keep to get to Sansa's room, I was
met by the Hound, Sandor Clegane.
The man was far taller than me but I found that I didn't fear him. He may be
bigger but I was faster and there is no way that he would be able to catch me
should I decide I didn't want him to. He was leaning against a wall next to the
dogs kennels lazily and looked at me when I got closer. I would be lying if I
said I found the scars attractive but at the same time they weren't anywhere
near as bad as some make them out to be. They covered the upper left fourth of
his head and looked uncomfortable seeing as scarred skin tends to not have much
in the way of feeling.
"Ser Clegane" I said, giving a small nod of acknowledgement.
"Not a Ser" He said gruffly, only barely looking at me.
"What?" I asked, not understanding him.
"I'm not a Knight. Just a soldier" He clarified, still just as gruff as before.
"Right. Well, I'll remember that next time Mr. Clegane" I said politely before
going to walk away.
As I walked I could feel his eyes on me but I didn't look back.
When I reached Sansa's room I found that she was already awake and dressed,
trying to make herself look pretty for the Prince.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. "You look fine, Sansa. Stop primping so much" I
said as I pulled her over to the table and made her sit down.
"I can't help it. Prince Joffrey is somewhere in Winterfell right now and I
could see him at any moment" She said as she fidgeted in her seat.
"Well, he won’t see much of you if you don't leave your room. And I should hope
that he isn't coming here" I said, only half teasing.
She smiled at me and sighed. "You're right. Shall we go find Septa and start my
lessons for today?" She asked as she stood.
I nodded and stood before following her out of her room.
On the way to find the Septa I found out that Ned and King Robert were going to
go on a hunt, which could last anywhere from a day to two weeks, possibly
longer.
But I wasn't worried, Lord Stark was a smart and careful man. And the King went
on so many hunts it was silly to worry for him at this point.
We didn't get far into the lessons before Arya came running in, coming from
Gods know where, saying that Bran was hurt.
I stood. "What happened?" I asked worriedly, looking down at the girl.
"Maester says he fell from a high ledge. That's all they would tell me" she
answered, tears starting to brim in her eyes.
I pulled the girl into my arms. "It'll be okay. Your brother is strong. He's a
Stark and it takes a lot more than a fall to kill a Stark" I said as I held the
crying girl. I looked up at Sansa and found that she too had tears in her eyes.
I lifted an arm, offering to hold her as well. She didn't hesitate to accept.
A week later Bran continued to sleep and Lord Stark had accepted the job to be
the Hand of The King. I thought he was mad for taking such a job, seeing as
Hands seem to have a tendency of dying, but it wasn't my place to say anything
about it, so I didn't.
I was helping Sansa pack for the trip to Kings Landing, still thinking that I
would be staying in Winterfell. "I think that we're almost done packing, Sansa"
I said as I placed an under dress in her trunk.
"What about you? Have you even started packing?" The redhead asked, eyes on the
dress she was folding.
"Why would I be packing?" I asked as I placed an already folded dress in the
trunk.
"Because, you're coming with me" She said, now looking at me.
I turned to her with wide eyes, almost unable to believe what she'd just told
me.
“I am?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“Yes! Did you really think I would leave my bestfriend?” She said, laughing
lightly at my surprise.
I let out a laugh of my own as I hugged her tight. “I guess I should go pack my
things then” I said after a moment.
“Yes, you should. Go on, I can handle the rest of this on my own” She said
before lightly pushing me in the direction of the door.
I all but ran back to my room, finding a well-made new trunk sitting on my bed.
I started to pack my meager possessions, folding the few dresses I owned and
setting them aside to be put in the trunk.
Then, I reached the bottom of the small box I’d been storing them in, finding
an old dagger that I was given by my mother when I was young. She’d given it to
me with a warning about people being dangerous and to use it to keep myself
safe. I was very young at the time and the warning had taken on a new meaning
when I got older.
Now I realized how much I might truly need it. Kings Landing was a dangerous
place, whether one is Noble or not. If someone of high standing decides they
don’t like me for whatever reason then I might need to protect myself.
I took the sheathed dagger in my hands and looked it over. It wasn’t large but
it was big enough to kill a man if I used it right. The simple brown leather
sheath had two small loops at the top and bottom, and the pattern of a thorny
vine stamped onto it. I pulled the blade from the sheath and looked it over;
the handle was iron wrapped in black horse-skin leather that had been tanned
smooth while the blade was a simple double edged iron one that came to a
triangular point at the tip. I gently ran my thumb along the side of the edge
to see how sharp it was, so I could get a whetstone before I left if necessary,
and felt that it was plenty sharp.
I sheathed it and was about to put it in my trunk when I hesitated. If I put it
in the trunk I wouldn’t be able to get to it if I needed it. So, I set it next
to the trunk and began digging around to for a loose strip of cloth.
Upon finding one I made sure that my door was closed and locked before going I
started to string the loose cloth through the loops on the sheath. I lifted my
skirt, resting my right foot on the edge of my bed. With my thigh bared, I
started to tie the dagger to my leg, making sure it was lose enough that it
wouldn’t be uncomfortable but tight enough that it wouldn’t fall off, I even
jumped around and tried walking and running in the small space to make sure it
was secure.
When I was sure that it would stay, I went back to packing.
My possessions barely filled half the trunk but I wasn’t concerned about it, I
was too busy being happy that I was going with Sansa.
Once my things were packed I went back to Sansa’s room to see if she needed
anything before I started helping get things ready to leave, she didn’t need
anything.
So, I went outside to help the other servants load the Royal Family’s and the
Starks, Ned, Sansa, and Arya, luggage onto the carriages. I was rather
surprised when I was told that Arya was coming with us too but I wasn’t going
to complain, she was good company and I knew that she would enjoy herself in
Kings Landing.
Once everything was loaded and put away, my own things included, I was given
the option of riding in the carriage with Sansa, or riding horseback. I would
have chosen horseback without hesitation but I would have had to ride behind
one of the men, seeing as all the horses had riders already, and the only man
that would even consider the idea of me riding with him was Sandor, the Hound,
and I think that’s only because he wanted to leave already.
Now, I should reiterate that I have no problem with the Hound. I wasn’t scared
of him, and I wasn’t repulsed by him either. I was just worried about annoying
him, as he seemed the easily annoyed type.
In the end, I chose to ride in the carriage with Sansa and Arya, who had wanted
to ride horseback but was forced into the carriage by her father.
We still had some time till we were going to leave so I took the chance to go
see Bran.
When I entered his room, I was met with the sight of the sleeping boy in his
bed, his Direwolf lying next to him, and Catelyn sitting in a chair at his
bedside making small dolls for a prayer wheel to The Seven.
“Lady Stark” I said quietly as I opened the door and entered slowly. “I came to
see Bran before we leave” I continued, looking between the sleeping form of
Bran and her.
She nodded tiredly, bags under here watery eyes made her look older than she
was and she was pale with fatigue. I approached the bed slowly and sat on the
edge,
Bran looked so peaceful that it almost brought tears to my eyes.
“Get well, Bran. You’re a strong boy and you still a lot left to do in this
world. So, don’t go leaving it just yet” I said quietly before leaning forward
and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. I stood and turned to Catelyn. “My
Lady, I hope to see you again” I said with a slow curtsy.
I watched as Catelyn stood and came to stand in front of me. For a moment, her
expression was unreadable. Then that melted away into a tired but genuine smile
as she pulled me into a tight hug. “Take care of them, Y/N. That place is where
good people die” She said, almost pleaded.
I wrapped my arms around her. “I will. You have my word, Catelyn, I will keep
them safe” I vowed. We let go of each other and I walked out the door.
I was walking past the Blacksmith when I saw Jaime Lannister talking to Jon. I
waited till the blond had walked away before approaching. “What did the
Lannister want?” I asked as I watched the retreating figure, arms crossed over
my chest.
Jon looked between me and a small sword that the Blacksmith was polishing. “I’m
not sure” He answered.
“The Lannister’s are a strange bunch. Very hard to read. But you can almost
always guarantee that they have an ulterior motive” I said, now looking at Jon.
Then my eyes landed on the sword. “Bit small for you, isn’t it?” I asked
teasingly.
Jon gave a small chuckle before leaning toward me slightly. “It’s for Arya” he
said in a hushed tone.
I nodded as I looked back at the blade. “She’ll love it. I swear, if she could
turn herself into a boy, she would. Remember when we were her age and I was the
same?” I asked, now reminiscing.
Jon nodded. “I do. You were always muddy. It drove Septa mad” he said, a fond
smile finding his lightly bearded face.
“We leave today…Are you ready to go to Castle Black?” I asked, changing the
topic.
Jon was quiet for a few moments, looking at the ground, clearly thinking about
what he was about to say. “Yes. I believe I am” he answered, looking at me.
I nodded. “Be careful. There’s more than just Wildlings in the woods beyond the
Wall” I warned before walking away without saying goodbye.
I hated ‘goodbyes’. They were too final. I never knew my father, as I was the
product of a single night of young passion after one too many cups of wine, but
my mother told me that he’d had the decency to at least say goodbye before
walking out the door. My mother said goodbye when she died of a fever that ran
so hot I couldn’t touch her skin. In my experience the word ‘goodbye’ was a ill
omen that brought death. So, I didn’t say them.
We’d made all the final preparations and I was about to climb into the carriage
with Sansa when I caught sight of Jon and Robb hugging, it brought a small
smile to my face. They may only be half-brothers but they are brothers none-
the-less.
“Y/N? Are you coming?” Sansa called from inside the carriage.
“Yes, Lady Sansa” I said, mentally reminding myself to use formal titles while
in public, as I climbed the rest of the way in and sat next to Arya, who seated
between
Sansa and I, pouting because she hadn’t been allowed to ride outside with the
men.
We got comfortable for the day’s ride ahead of us and rode out of Winterfell. I
looked out the window back at Winterfell and saw Robb watching us go. I lifted
a hand and gave a small wave, which we were still close enough for him to see,
he returned it and I watched as the Keep shrank from view.
Further down the road we reached the turn off for the Wall and the men that
were going broke off from the group to go down the path. I glimpsed Ned talking
to Jon and wondered briefly what was being said. Then, as Ned rode off to catch
up with the group, Jon’s eye caught mine through the window. I gave a small
nod, as if to say that I’d see him again, and watched as he did the same before
riding to catch up with the Wall bound group.
I felt a small tear slide down my cheek at how final it all felt, but quickly
wiped it away so as not to worry Sansa or Arya.
I’d lost track of how long we’d been traveling, a few days at least, when we
stopped at a large Inn.
The Kings Caravan made camp on the outside while The Royal Family and the
Starks stayed inside, Sansa insisting that I stay with her made sure that I had
a bed inside as well.
Sansa said she wanted to take Lady for a walk and asked me to go with her as
she tied a leash to the Direwolf.
We walked for a while before she caught sight of the Queens handmaids doing
their hair and giggling among themselves, Gods how I hated Southern girls.
Sansa slowed to watch them as she walked and almost walked into an older man,
who had stepped in her way intentionally.
“Pardon me, Sir” She said with startled politeness. I didn’t like this man, he
was trying scare Sansa for no reason.
He stared as her as she slowly backed up only for the Hound to appear behind
her and place his hand on her shoulder.
She turned to look up at him as he spoke. “Do I frighten you so much, girl?” He
asked before looking at the man from before, who perked up when the Hound
looked at him. “Or is it him there making you shake?” he asked, Sansa looked at
the other man. “He frightens me too. Look at that face” he said, sounding
serious but I knew
he was making a, rather self-deprecating, joke.
Sansa turned to the other man again. “I’m sorry if I offended you, Sir” She
said.
He started at her and almost seemed to hiss in his throat at the Hound as he
walked by.
Sansa and Sandor watched him walk away for a moment as she asked why he
wouldn’t speak to her only to interrupted by Sandor. “He hasn’t been very
talkative these last 20 years. Since the Mad King had his tongue ripped out
with hot pincers” he said, being bluntly honest.
At that moment, Prince Joffrey walked up. “Speaks damn well with a sword
though. Ilyn Payne, The Kings Justice, The Royal Executioner” He said, gazing
at Sansa as she gazed back, he brushed his fingers over Sansa chin. “What is
it, Sweetling?” he asked, caringly, before looking up at Sandor. “Does the
Hound frighten you? Away with you dog. You’re scaring my Lady” he ordered as
Sandor bowed and walked away.
It was moments like this that made me really dislike the Prince.
I curtseyed to him as I was expected to, remembering myself as I’d gotten lost
in the moment. “My Prince” I said quietly, hoping he would do what most nobles
do and ignore me.
“Who’s this?” he asked Sansa as he eyed me.
“My handmaiden, Y/N” she answered, sending me a smile, which I returned.
“Pleasure to meet you” he said, sounding genuine but I knew the truth that came
with all nobles from the South. He couldn’t care less about having met me.
He looked up the sky before looking at Sansa. “The sun’s finally shining. Come
walk with me” he requested, the underlying order not lost on me.
Sansa smiled and looked down at Lady. “Stay, Lady” She ordered the Direwolf
before looking to me.
“Shall I stay with Lady, My Lady?” I asked looking to Sansa.
She looked at me for a moment before looking to Joffrey. “Can she come with
us?” she requested and Joffrey looked at me.
It was obvious to me that he didn’t like that idea but let it go and nodded
with a small smile. “Of course, whatever My Lady wants” he said.
Sansa smiled back at him and they began walking. I patted Lady’s head as I
walked past her sitting form.
I stayed a few paces behind them as we walked, they chatted idly till we
reached the river.
There we found Arya and the Butchers son play dueling with sticks, the clacks
of wood meeting wood could be heard before we could see them.
Somewhere along the way Joffrey had picked up a wineskin and took a drink from
it before offering it to Sansa. “I probably shouldn’t have any more. Father
only lets us have one cup as feasts” She said, trying to politely decline.
“My Princess can drink as much as she wants” He said before offering the
wineskin to her again, a bit more forcefully this time. She accepted it with a
small smile and took a drink, making a face that Joffrey didn’t see because he
was looking toward where Arya and the Butchers son were play fighting.
Sansa looked over too and I felt like my stomach had plummeted down to my feet.
Something bad was about to happen and I couldn’t do anything about it.
Joffrey looked to Sansa again. “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me” He said as he
began to approach them.
I took this chance to discreetly reach under my skirt to retrieve my dagger
from its place on my thigh, hiding it in my long loose sleeve so it wouldn’t be
seen. I
wanted to be ready in case I needed it but didn’t want to be accused of being a
danger to the Royal Family for having it to begin with.
We heard the boy say. “I’ll get you!” playfully as we approached and they swung
and blocked with their sticks.
“Arya!” Sansa said scolding. Causing the girl to look our way, the boy using
the chance to give her a smack to her arm.
“Ow!” She said sending the boy a look before looking at her sister. “What are
you doing here? Go away” she said irritated.
This was one of those times that I really wished that Sansa and Arya would get
along.
Joffrey glanced at Sansa. “Your sister?” he asked, to which Sansa responded
with a nod.
Sansa stopped walking but Joffrey kept going, approaching the boy in an almost
predatorial way. “And who are you, boy?” He asked.
“Mycah, Mi Lord” He answered, dropping his stick.
“He’s the Butchers boy” Sansa said, practically growling through her teeth. At
this I decided that it was time I sat Sansa down and had a very serious talk
with her about her unnecessary and ridiculous anger at her sister all the time.
Of course, I would have to have a talk with Arya about teasing Sansa as well
but that is all in due
time.
“He’s my friend!” Arya said glaring at her sister.
“A Butchers boy who wants to be a Knight eh?” Joffrey asked teasingly as he
approached. Mycah looked to the ground, clearly scared. “Pick up your sword
Butchers boy, let’s see how good you are” he said as he drew the sword that had
been hanging from his hip the entire walk.
“She asked me to, Mi Lord, she asked me to” Mycah said defensively, trying to
avoid whatever punishment he was sure was coming.
“I’m your Prince. Not your Lord. And I said, ‘pick up your sword” Joffrey
ordered.
I could tell that this was spiraling out of control very quickly and I gripped
the handle of my dagger a little tighter.
“It’s not a sword, My Prince. It’s only a stick” he said, hoping that Joffrey
would stop threatening him.
“And you’re not a Knight. Only a Butchers boy” he said as he raised the tip of
his, very real, sword to Mycah’s face. “That was My Lady’s sister you were
hitting. Do you know that?” he asked, sounding like he was scolding the boy.
“Stop it!” Arya said angrily.
“Arya, stay out of this” Sansa ordered, just as angry.
I’d honestly had enough this whole thing but there wasn’t much I could do
beside defend Sansa or Arya if the Prince went after either of them.
“I won’t hurt him…Much” Joffrey said as he pressed the blade to Mycah’s cheek
and drug it down a bit, leaving a deep cut.
Arya screamed and swung her stick at Joffrey, hitting his back, as Sansa
screamed her name.
Mycah ran away as Joffrey started to swing his sword at Arya, who managed to
dodge each swing.
Sansa was standing off to the side yelling at both of them to stop and saying
that Arya was spoiling everything, much like she always does when things don’t
fit her
overly imaginative plans.
Arya made one more dodge but lost her balance and fell to her back as Joffrey
pointed his sword at her. “I’ll gut you! You little cunt!” he shouted.
I was about to intervene when Nymeria ran up and bit Joffrey’s arm, holding it
in her mouth and growling, she wasn’t doing much damage but Joffrey was sent to
the ground by the sudden attack and screamed.
Sansa screamed Arya’s name and the girl stood, pulling Nymeria off Joffrey. She
picked up his sword and pointed it at him, a good foot away from him, where it
was little more than an idle threat, though she looked like she really was
debating hurting the Prince.
The Prince begged her not to hurt him while Sansa ordered her to leave him
alone, both of which she seemed to be ignoring.
“Arya. Don’t” I said calmly from my place by Sansa. I knew there was a good
chance she may ignore me, but there was also a good chance that she would
listen.
She pulled the sword away from Joffrey and went to the river, throwing it into
the water before running away, Nymeria at her side.
Sansa went to Joffrey’s side. “My Prince. My poor Prince. Look what they did to
you” She said worriedly as Joffrey tried to keep her from looking at him. “Stay
here, I’ll
go back to the Inn and bring help” she said before moving the caress his cheek.
“THEN GO!” He growled. “Don’t touch me” he said, quieter, sounding like the
spoilt child he was.
I would admit that he had a right to upset after getting bitten by a Direwolf
but it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been so cruel to Mycah and hadn’t
tried to kill Arya.
Sansa and I went back to the Inn and told the Guards that the Prince was hurt
and that Arya was missing before being sent to Sansa’s room.
Once we were alone and the door was closed I turned to Sansa. “You and I need
to have a talk” I said firmly from my place by the door.
“I don’t want to talk” She said, sitting on the edge of her bed pouting.
“Too damn bad. Sansa, you need to stop blaming everything on Arya. And you must
stop yelling at her every time she speaks to you. And before you say that you
don’t yell at her I’m here to tell you that: Yes, you do. Very harshly I might
add” I scolded, making sure that Sansa understood how serious I was. “I get it.
Sometimes
she does things that are annoying and sometimes those things are done with the
purpose of annoying you. But, that is not every time she speaks to you and you
need to learn not to get mad when she just wants to ask you something or talk
to you” I said, starting in the same harsh tone but slowly softening, but
remaining firm.
I moved over to kneel in front of her. “She is your sister. Your only sister.
And I know that you love her but you need to show it or she’ll end up hating
you when you’re both older. And, trust me, that’s not something you want” I
said, my hands rest on her knees as I looked up at her.
“But she’s so annoying” Sansa whined and I rolled my eyes.
“I’ll talk to her about it too. But this problem comes from both of you. You
need to be nicer and not get angry at her so much, and she needs to not tease
you so much. Something that I’m sure I can convince her to do” I said, a small
smile finding my face before it dropped. “But first we need to solve this
little problem” I said, referring to what happened by the river.
We were silent for a few moments, neither of us moving, when I asked the most
important question that I could possibly ask at this moment. “Do you still like
him? After everything that just happened. After he tried to kill your sister.
After he hurt an innocent boy for no reason. Do you still want to marry him?” I
asked, honestly worried that she would say yes.
She looked down at me, looking genuinely lost. “I don’t know” She said quietly.
“Then I’ll help you figure it out” I said as moved to sit next to her on the
bed, pulling her into my arms and holding her.
Hours later, well into the evening after the sun had gone down, Sansa was
summoned by the Queen, being told to come to the Main Hall of the Inn. “Please,
come with me” She all but begged me.
“Of course, Sansa” I said with a nod as we followed a guard to the Main Hall.
As we got closer we could hear the voices of the King, Queen, Ned, Joffrey, and
Arya.
“Sansa, come here, darling” The Queen called as we both walked in.
Sansa gripped my hand as I followed just behind her, I have her hand a small
reassuring squeeze as we approached them.
The King gestured for her to come closer. “Now, child. Tell us what happened.
Tell it all, and tell it true. It’s a great crime to lie to a King” He said,
sounding very much done with this whole thing.
Sansa looked to her father before looking to Joffrey. “I don’t know. I don’t
remember. Everything happened so fast. I didn’t see” She lied. I sighed and
gave my head a little shake.
“LIAR! Liar liar liar!” Arya screamed as she grabbed Sansa’s hair, still
chanting the mantra of ‘liar’ as Ned tried to separate them.
I looked at the Queen for a moment and saw her smirking. In that moment I would
have been willing to accept the punishment that would come if I’d hit her, just
to wipe that smirk off her face.
“She’s as wild as that animal of hers. I want her punished” The Queen said,
still smirking.
“What would you have me do, whip her through the streets? Damn it, children
fight. It’s over” The King asked irritably, clearly not in the mood to put up
with any nonsense from his wife.
“Joffrey will bare these scars for the rest of his life” She said, sounding
calm but clearly irritated herself.
King Robert looked from his wife to his son. “You let that little girl disarm
you?” He said, sounding more like a statement than a question.
Joffrey tried to glare at his father as the people in the room began to murmur
before looking away humiliated.
King Robert looked to Ned. “Ned, see to it that your daughter’s disciplined.
I’ll do the same of my son” he said.
“Gladly, Your Grace” He said as he turned to Arya.
The King had only just gotten up and was about to walk away when the Queen
opened her mouth again. “And what of the Direwolf? What of the beast that
savaged your son?” She asked, looking smug. Once again, I felt my hand itch to
hit her.
We all looked to King Robert and he looked tired. “Forgot the damned wolf” He
muttered before turning to his head guard.
The man straightened up. “We found no trace of the Direwolf, Your Grace” He
said.
“No? So be it” He said, about to let the whole thing go and leave.
Then the fucking Queen opened her mouth again. “They have another wolf” She
said. For a moment, I wondered if she was aware that Lady wasn’t there and was
the
most well behaved of the entire litter but judging from the expression on her
face she didn’t care.
Instead of telling the Queen to drop it, King Robert looked over his shoulder
at her and just gave a tired look. “As you will” He said before once again
trying to walk away.
Ned looked at him. “You can’t mean it” He said hoping that Robert wasn’t
serious about killing Lady.
The King looked at Ned. “A Direwolf’s no pet. Get her a dog, she’ll be happier
for it” He said, continuing on.
“He doesn’t mean Lady, does he?” Sansa asked, practically whimpering the words.
“No, no. Not Lady. Lady didn’t bite anyone! She’s good!” She yelled, tears
filling her eyes.
“Lady wasn’t there! You leave her alone!” Arya said, looking at the Queen dead
on.
The Queen simply looked at them, still with that smug expression, like she
enjoyed bringing them pointless pain.
Sansa grabbed her father’s arm. “Stop them! Don’t let them do it! Please!
Please! It wasn’t Lady!” She begged looking to the Prince and Queen, who both
looked far too smug for the situation.
Ned turned to where the King had yet to leave the room. “Is this your command,
Your Grace?” He asked, hoping beyond hope that the King would say no.
King Robert didn’t respond as he walked out of the room.
The Queen looked to the guard from before, looking all too giddy. “Where is the
beast?” She asked.
“Chained up. Outside, Your Grace” He answered.
She made an almost bounce-like motion with her torso as she turned to look at
the Executioner. “Ser Ilyn, do me the honor” She ordered.
The mute man was about to fulfill his orders when Ned stopped him. “No. Jory,
take the girls to their rooms” He ordered before turning to the Queen. “If it
must be done. I will do it myself” He said.
“Is this some trick?” The Queen asked. I had the feeling that she wanted to
drag out the pain as much as possible so she could keep enjoying it.
“The wolf is of the North. She deserves better than a Butcher” He said before
walking away to go do what he had no other choice but to do.
Jory and I took Sansa and Arya to their rooms and I stayed with Sansa, holding
her as she cried in my arms till she fell asleep.
I slept in Sansa’s room that night. I didn’t want to leave her alone should she
wake in the night. And as I slowly let myself slip into the dark hands of sleep
I made a silent vow that I would make the Queen and Prince suffer for what
they’ve done.
Chapter End Notes
     Please leave a comment and tell me what you think!
***** Lord Snow *****
Chapter Summary
     Short chapter because Sansa isn't in this episode much (and behind
     the scenes stuff is hard to do without messing up the cannon)
Chapter Notes
     Sansa was kind of a bitch at the beginning of the series (namely to
     Arya) and it always really bugs me so I'm gonna make it not so
     bad...Or try to at least. Also, I made the events of this chapter
     happen about a month after the chapter/episode Kingsroad because when
     the royals got to Winterfell Cersei said that they'd been riding for
     a month. So, I'm gonna assume that that means that it takes a month
     to get from Winterfell to Kingslanding and vise-versa.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
A month after leaving Winterfell we all arrived at Kings Landing.
Arya, Sansa, Septa Mordan, and I rode in on a large wagon while Ned rode a
horse ahead of us.
People called and pointed, some leaning towards others to whisper, but we were
all too entranced by the sight of the Castle before us.
The tan walls that seemed almost high enough to block the sun brandished red
flags that had the crowned stag crest of the Baratheon’s.
Once we were inside the outer walls we came to a stop and Ned dismounted his
horse as a man approached him.
“Welcome, Lord Stark. Grant Maester Pycell has called a meeting of the Small
Counsel. The honor of your presence is requested” The man said.
Ned turned to where we were. “Get the girls settled in. I’ll be back in time
for supper. Jory, go with them” He said to Septa Mordan and I before
looking to Jory.
We both nodded as Jory gave a quick “Yes, My Lord”.
Ned turned back to the man. “If you’d like to change into something more
appropriate” The man said.
Ned only responded by looking at him as he removed his gloves.
The man seemed to get the picture and turned to lead Ned away.
“Come on, girls. Let’s get you settled” Septa said giving Sansa a light pat on
the leg before climbing off the wagon, the three of us following after.
A few servants came to help us unload the trunks, only stopping to ask Septa or
I who’s they were.
After everything was unloaded and taken to the girls rooms we were taken to
them, Septa went with Arya and I went with Sansa.
Sansa’s room was lovely and fully furnished with a beautiful bed and vanity, as
well as a table for her to take meals at when she ate in her room, a
large wardrobe that had Sansa’s luggage in front of it, and a writing desk with
quills, parchment, and ink.
“It’s this lovely, Sansa?” I asked as I looked around. I knew that my quarters
wouldn’t be anywhere near this nice but they would most likely be nicer than
what I had at Winterfell.
“It’s okay” She said, still upset about what happened to Lady, and very angry
at her father.
I sighed. “Sansa, you’re in Kings Landing. You have a bedroom far nicer that
what you had in Winterfell. And you’re saying that it’s just ‘okay’?” I asked
as I came to stand in front of her, taking her hands in mine. “I know you’re
still mad at your father, and I know you miss Lady. But this is an
amazing experience, and you’re missing it” I said softly.
“I’d rather be at home with Lady than here with father” Sansa said, tears
welling in her eyes.
“I know, Little Wolf. But you have a chance to be Queen, even if the Prince is
an arse” I said, whispering the last part so only Sansa and I could hear it.
The last thing I needed was to get in trouble because some nosy servant heard
me insult the Prince.
The corners of Sansa’s lips twitched slightly as she blinked, knocking loose
the tears that had filled her eyes. “I miss her…I miss her so much” She sobbed.
“I know…” I said as I pulled her into my arms and let her cry, much like I had
every night since Lady’s death. “I wish there were something I could have done
to save her. And I know your father would have if he could too. He couldn’t
disobey the Queen without an order from the King to do so.
You know that” I said, practically speaking over her shoulder as our heads were
right next to each other.
We stayed like that for a while before Sansa let go and wiped her eyes. I gave
her a small smile and got her some water. As she drank I suggested that we
start unpacking, which she answered to with a nod, rim of the cup still in her
mouth.
We opened the trunks and started to take things out. First was her clothes, we
put those in the wardrobe, her shoes followed and were placed along the bottom.
Then were the books she’d brought, we put those on the writing desk in a neat
stack. This process went till the trunks were empty and everything was put
away.
When dinner rolled around Sansa and I made for the terrace, where we found Arya
and Septa waiting.
“Your father will join us soon” Septa said, giving us the go ahead to start
eating.
Not long into the meal Arya pushed her half empty plait aside and started to
stab the table with her knife.
“Enough of that, young lady. Eat your food” Septa ordered.
“I’m practicing” Arya said, not stopping.
“Practicing for what?” Sansa asked, only slightly less irritable than normal.
“The Prince” Arya answered honestly. Sansa looked at her wide eyed.
“Arya, stop!” Setpa scolded.
“He’s a liar and a coward! And he killed my friend!” She said.
“The Hound killed your friend” Sansa defended.
“The Hound does whatever the Prince tells him to do!” Arya retuned, still
stabbing the table.
“You’re an idiot” Sansa said.
“You’re a liar! And if you’d told the truth Mycah would be alive!” Arya said
with one final stab into the table.
“Enough!” Septa said as she stood from her seat and pulled Arya to her seat,
telling her to go to her room without saying anything.
“What’s happening here?” Ned said as he walked into the room.
“Arya would rather act like a beast than a lady” Septa said, looking at Arya,
who had stopped when her father made his presence known.
They looked at each other for a moment before Ned spoke. “Go to your room,
we’ll speak later” He said.
Arya walked away and Ned looked at Sansa, who was silently eating her food, he
placed a bundle on the table. “That’s for you, love” He said before
taking his seat.
Sansa unwrapped the bundle and found a lovely doll from the royal toymaker.
“The same dollmaker makes all of Princess Marcella’s toys” He said, clearly
hopeful that she would like it.
I looked between her and him, waiting for her response.
She looked less than impressed.
“Don’t you like it?” He asked.
“I haven’t played with dolls since I was eight” She said, tone sharp. She
looked to Septa. “May I be excused?” She asked.
“You’ve barely eaten a thing” Septa replied, clearly a bit concerned.
“It’s alright” Ned said rubbing his eyes.
Sansa stood and I followed, leaving the room. I looked back to give him an
apologetic look.
Sansa didn’t speak much with her father for the next few days, no matter how
much I tried to persuade her to.
Days passed and All was quiet…Till the tournament came.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are nice but comments are better!
***** Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things *****
Chapter Summary
     The tournament starts. And so does the game.
Chapter Notes
     Sansa wasn't in this episode a lot so this chapter is quite boring
     (I, personally, hate how this chapter turned out for that very
     reason). More to come.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
I walked with Setpa and Sansa in the Throne room.
“Someday, your husband will sit there. And you will sit by his side. And one
day, before too long, you will present your son to the court. All the
Lords of Westoros will gather here to see the little Prince” Septa said.
I bit back a sigh. As much as I liked the old woman, she really needed to learn
when to read the room. Sansa was just beside her trying not to freak out under
all the pressure that was suddenly coming to her attention.
“What if I have a girl?” She asked, her eyes on the Iron Throne.
Septa chuckled lightly. “Gods be good, you’ll have boys and girls. And plenty
of them” She said.
“What if I only have girls?” Sansa asked, still looking at the Throne.
Septa looked at her calmly. “I wouldn’t worry about that” She said.
Sansa turned and looked at her. “Jane Paul’s mother had five children and all
of them girls” She countered.
“Yes, but it’s highly unlikely” Septa said, finally realizing how worried Sansa
was about these things.
“But what if?” Sansa sighed.
“Well, if you only had girls I suppose the Throne would pass to Prince
Joffrey’s little brother” Septa explained.
“And everyone would hate me” Sansa said.
I chose this moment to step in. “Nobody could ever hate you, Sansa” I said, my
hand resting on her shoulder.
“Joffrey does” She answered quickly.
“None sense! Why would you say such a thing?” Septa asked.
“Maybe because he’s an asshole and wants to see Sansa in pain?” I thought.
Septa and Sansa just looked at each other for a moment before Septa got a look
of realization. “That business with the wolfs! Sansa, I told you a hundred
times that a Direwolf is not” Septa started but was interrupted by Sansa.
“Please, shut up about it!” Sansa snapped and started to walk away. I followed
behind her without a word.
“Do you remember your lessons?” Septa asked and Sansa turned and looked at her.
“Who built the Iron Thone?” Septa asked, looking at the ugly thing.
“Aegon The Conqueror” Sansa answered.
“And who built the Red Keep?” Septa asked.
“Maegor the Cruel” Sansa answered. I couldn’t help but wonder where Septa was
going with this as she continued to speak.
“And how many years did it take to build the red” Septa was interrupted again.
“My Grandfather and Uncle were killed here, weren’t they?” Sansa asked, though
it sounded more like a statement than a question.
Septa hesitated to answer her question but did anyway. “They were killed on the
orders of King Aerys, yes” She answered.
“The Mad King” Sansa said, there was no mistaking it for a question.
“Commonly known as The Mad King” Septa begrudgingly confirmed.
“Why were they killed?” Sansa asked. I wanted to step in and usher Sansa away
but felt it best that she hears the answers she seems to want.
“You should speak to your father about these matters” Septa responded.
“I don’t want to speak to my father. Ever” She said. I sighed at her words,
knowing that all this goes back to him having no choice but to kill Lady.
“Sansa, you will find it in your heart to forgive your father” Septa said.
“No, I won’t” Sansa responded before walking away.
I sighed again and looked at Septa. “I told you not to speak of Lady. She needs
time and your nagging about how she shouldn’t have had Lady isn’t
helping. If you really care about Sansa then you’ll accept and heed that” I
said before turning and walking away to catch up with Sansa.
I escorted Sansa back to her room, realizing when I got there that her wash
basin was empty, as was her fruit bowl. Excused myself and took the fruit bowl
to refill first.
I was half way to the kitchen when I heard footsteps behind me. I looked to see
who it was out of habit and saw Lord Varys not far behind. I stopped and bowed,
as was protocol. “My Lord” I said quietly, expecting him to pass me by without
a word.
“I’m not a Lord young lady” He replied, coming to a stop next to me.
“I’m not a lady” I said with a quiet chuckle. “Can I help you with something?”
I asked after a moment, realizing that he wasn’t walking away.
“Are you the older Stark Girls Handmaiden?” He asked, leaning a little closer,
his tone quieter than before.
I nodded. “I am. Why do you ask?” I replied.
“As the Master of Whispers, I feel that I should have connections with not only
all Lords and Ladies but their children as well. I was hoping that you
might be willing to be my connection to Lady Sansa” He explained, all calm
voice and gentle demeanor.
I took a step back, now a bit wary of Lord Varys. “Sansa means more to me than
anyone. Give me one good reason why I should spy on her for you”
I replied, my tone clipped but not harsh.
“You misunderstand. I’ve no interest in hurting Sansa, quite the contrary.
There are elements in Kings Landing that would see her not only hurt but
killed. Her position as the Princes betrothed and the daughter of The Hand are
all that’s keeping her safe. If you kept me up to date on whatever goes on with
her then I could warn you should it become needed” He answered.
I thought for a moment. He has no reason to want to hurt Sansa, it wouldn’t
benefit him in any way. And he could help me protect her from those who would
gain from her pain.
“If I agree to help you then you have to help me” I said.
“Of course. I would owe you, you need only say the word” He said.
I nodded. “Fine. I’ll help you. What do you want to know?” I asked.
“Nothing for now. But should she, or you, express concern or distrust of anyone
in the Red Keep, let me know” He said.
“Very well. Thank you, Lord Varys” I said before curtsying.
“You needn’t thank me, and please, just Varys is fine” He said with a small
friendly smile.
I turned and continued in the direction of the kitchens, slowly navigating the
winding corridors and hallways of the Red Keep, making sure to
remember every turn I make so as not to get lost.
Upon reaching the kitchen I should one of the cooks that I needed more fruit
for Lady Sansa’s room and gave him the bowl. He returned a few minutes later
with bowl, now full of apples, oranges, bananas, pears, and grapes.
With a quick thank you I walked out the door and started back for Sansa’s room.
I was, thankfully, uninterrupted in my journey, as there were few that I could
think of that would have anything pleasant to say should I encounter them while
alone.
When I walked through Sansa’s door I found her sitting by the window with a
book in her hands. I silently thanked the seven that she was able to occupy
herself in a way that took her mind off Lady.
I placed the bowl of fruit on the table and picked up the washbasin, quickly
leaving to refill it.
I didn’t have to walk as far to fill the basin and was back in Sansa’s room
soon after.
Days passed in a similar manner. Sansa was either silent, crying, or cursing
her father.
Then the day of the Tournament arrived.
We all sat in the stands to the right of the royal family, Sansa seated in
front of me next to Septa and her sister. Sansa looked over toward where the
Prince sat and made eye contact with him. She sent him a small smile and he
looked away. I rolled my eyes, the little prick doesn’t know how lucky he is to
have Sansa’s favor like he does.
Then Lord Baelish walked up to us. “Lover quarrel?” He asked, half teasing.
We all looked up at him but it was Sansa that spoke first. “I’m sorry do I…?”
She left the end of the question unsaid as Septa began to speak.
“Sansa, dear, this is Lord Baelish. He’s known…” She said but was interrupted
by Lord Baelish.
“An old friend of the family. I’ve known your mother a long, long, time” He
said as he took the empty seat next to Sansa.
“Why do they call you ‘Littlefinger’?” Arya asked quickly, with all the genuine
curiosity of a girl her age.
“Arya!” Sansa scolded, seeing the question as rude.
“Don’t be rude!” Septa followed.
“No, it’s quite alright. When I was a child, I was very small. And I come from
a little spit of land called The Finger, so you see?” He chuckled, I could
see there was something very dark in that chuckle, and in his eyes. “It’s an
exceedingly clever nickname” He continued.
“I’VE BEEN SITTIN HERE FOR DAYS! START THE DAMN JOUST! Before I piss meself”
King Robert shouted drunkenly as he stood and then sat back on his seat,
handing of goblet off to be refilled.
The Queen looked disgusted and embarrassed as she stood and walked away. “Good”
I thought. “The bitch deserves that and more for what she
did.” But I would never dare to say such things out loud. I didn’t have a death
wish.
Then an armor-clad rider on a muscular black horse rode onto the track and
stopped in front of the stands where we sat.
“Gods…Who is that?” Sansa asked as she watched him.
“Ser Gregor Clegane. They call him The Mountain. The Hounds older brother”
Baelish answered.
Ser Clegane open the front of his helm, looked at the King, and bowed as the
other knight next to him on his white horse did the same.
“And his opponent?” Sansa asked.
“Ser Hugh of the Vale, he was Jon Arryn’s Squire. And look how far he’s come…”
Baelish explained.
“Yes, yes, enough of the bloody pomp. Have at him!” The King ordered.
Both riders went to their ends of the track and took their lances as a horn was
blown.
They took off toward each other and I anticipated bloody contact but neither of
them was hit, so they turned around and made another pass.
The crack of wood splintering and the squelch of blood and flesh filled the air
as Sansa screamed.
I stood and covered her eyes so she would have to watch Ser Hugh choke on wood
and his own blood as he died on the ground.
The Mountain rode to the end of the track and waited as they removed Ser Hugh’s
body from the path. When he was gone I moved my hands from
Sansa’s eyes. She looked up at me, now three shades paler, and gave me a look
that said, ‘thank you.’ I nodded and sat back in my seat.
Baelish looked at Sansa again and leaned toward her slightly. “Not what you
were expecting?” He asked, though it was more of a statement. Then he leaned
even closer to her, so close that I wanted to push him away from her and tell
him to never speak to her again. “Has anyone ever told you the
story of The Mountain and The Hound?” He asked.
Sansa looked up at where the Hound was standing by the Royal Family.
“A wonderful tail of brotherly love. The Hound was just a pup, six years old
maybe. Gregor, a few years older, already a big lad, already getting a bit of a
reputation. Some lucky boys just born with a talent for violence. Once evening,
Gregor found his brother playing with a toy by the fire. Gregor’s toy. A wooden
knight. Gregor never said a word, he just grabbed his brother by the scruff of
his neck and shoved his face into the burning coals.
Held him there while the boy screamed, while his face melted” He said before
leaning back a bit to look at her. “There aren’t very many people who know that
story” He continued.
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise” Sansa said, her voice quivering.
“No, please don’t. If the Hound so much as heard you mention it I’m afraid all
the knights in Kings Landing wouldn’t be able to save you” He said, fully
leaning away to sit in his seat like normal.
I placed a reassuring hand on Sansa’s shoulder so as to calm her.
There was still more to the tournament for the day, and even more tomorrow, so
she couldn't leave yet...Sadly.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are nice but comments are better!
***** The Wolf and The Lion *****
Chapter Summary
     The end of the tourney brings on strange feelings within the reader
     for a certain Hound.
Chapter Notes
     Short crappy chapter but I added a bit of Sandor x reader to it, so
     at least there's a little something there for now. Not sure how far
     I'll go with all of that yet but we'll see what happens.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The next day we were back at the jousting track.
This time, instead of sitting behind her, I was seated next to Sansa, Septa
seated on my other side and Ned seated next to Sansa. Arya was nowhere to be
seen.
Ned leaned toward Sansa slightly as he looked around. “Where’s Arya?” He asked.
“At her dancing lessons” Sansa answered, not looking at her father. Then a
smile found her face as Ser Loras approached with a rose in hand, his
favor. “The Knight of Flowers” Sansa said, light excitement in her voice.
I found myself smiling at her joy.
Soon he stopped in front of Sansa and reached out to hand her his favor, a red
rose in full bloom.
“Thank you, Ser Loras” She said quietly.
He gave a faint smile before his eyes traveled up to where I knew Lord Renly
was seated and that smile turned into a slight smirk. I’d seen Lord Renly
around, as well as Ser Loris, and had the sneaking suspicion that there was
something going on there. I couldn’t care less what people did behind closed
doors, but such a thing can be socially and physically dangerous for someone of
as high a standing as Lord Renly.
As Ser Loras rode off, Sansa turned to me with an excited smile. She’d never
been given a Knights favor before and had fantasized about such things for many
years.
Ser Loras stopped in front of the King and gave a graceful bow, the King
nodded, and Ser Loras and the Mountain went to ride to their sides of the
track. But the Mountain was struggling to keep control of his horse. I’d spent
enough time around horses to know a mare in heat and that was clearly what was
happening to Ser Gregor’s horse.
He managed to get back over to his side of the track and get his shield and
lance in place.
Sansa watched Ser Loras as he prepared and wrapped her hand around her father’s
arm worriedly. “Don’t let Ser Gregor hurt him” She quietly begged her father.
Her father placed his hand over her own and gave a placating “Hey” in the hopes
of calming her.
“I can’t watch” She said as she watched Ser Loras put his helmet on.
Then I heard Baelish from behind us say. “A hundred Gold Dragons on The
Mountain”
“I’ll take that bet” Lord Renly said, sounding sure of himself.
“Now what will I buy with a hundred Gold Dragons?” Lord Baelish wondered
tauntingly. “A dozen barrels of Dornish wine? Or a girl from the pleasure
houses of Lys?” He continued.
“You could even buy her friend” Lord Renly offered.
Sansa gripped her father’s arm tighter. “He’s going to die” She practically
whimpered.
“Ser Loras rides well” Ned said to comfort Sansa.
Nothing else could be said before the trumpet sounded and the Joust began. The
two knights charged at each other and as Ser Loras’ lance met Ser Gregor’s
shield it splintered and the mare lost her footing, sending Ser Gregor toppling
not only to the dirt, but onto the divider. The crowd gasped, Lord Renly
laughed as he won the bet, and a simple glance toward the Hound showed that
Sandor was fighting the urge to laugh or smile at his brother’s misfortune.
“Such a shame, Littlefinger. It would have been so nice for you to have a
friend” Lord Renly taunted.
“And tell me, Lord Renly. When will you be having your friend?” Baelish asked,
gesturing to Ser Loras.
Then I saw Baelish lean toward Sansa and Ned, his hand on Sansa’s shoulder.
“Loras knew his mare was in heat. Quite crafty, really” He said.
Ned gave Baelish a look that told him to get his hands off Sansa and I wanted
to thank Ned for doing so.
“Ser Loras would never do that. There’s no honor in tricks” Sansa said.
“No honor but quite a bit of gold” Baelish replied before leaning back.
Then Ser Gregor threw off his helmet and shouted for his sword.
Gregor’s squire ran up with it and Gregor pulled it from its sheath before
heaving it up and then swinging down on his horses’ neck, going most of the way
through as the poor creature collapsed on the ground dead with a pained whine.
The crowd gasped again as Gregor made his way toward Ser Loras and knocked him
from his horse.
Ser Loras used his shield to block a few hits from Gregor’s sword. I felt my
heart begin to thump with the fear that Sansa would have to watch yet another
death.
Then a call of “Leave him be” was heard as Sandor leapt from the stands where
the Royal family were seated and used his sword to block his brothers. Gregor
pushed away and glared at his brother, panting heavily, before charging at him
with a growl, Sandor met him head on with his own sword. They fought for a few
moments before the King stood.
“STOP THIS MADNESS IN THE NAME OF YOUR KING!” Robert shouted.
Sandor, without hesitation turned and knelt, his hand on the hilt of his word
and the end of the sword to the ground, the blade of Gregor’s sword only
narrowly missing Sandor’s head.
Gregor growled as he threw his sword to the ground and went to storm away, only
slowing when two guards got in his way, but a call to let him go from the King
made them move, and Gregor kept going.
Sandor stood and Ser Loras approached him. “I owe you my life Ser” He said
breathlessly.
“I’m not a Ser” was all Sandor said as Ser Loras grabbed his hand and lifted it
into the air, declaring Sandor the Champion.
The crowd cheered and clapped. Sansa stood and clapped with a wide smile on her
face. Most would probably say that they were cheering for Sandor but in truth
they were all cheering for Ser Loras.
All except for me, as I stood and clapped I didn’t cheer, or even smile. I just
looked at Sandor, head down and face mostly obscured by his hair as he looked
around embarrassedly.
His eyes met mine and I continued to clap as my heart jumped into my throat,
beating so hard that I thought it would break my ribs. The look in his eyes was
confused, as if he didn’t understand why I was looking to directly at him. I
just stared back as I continued to clap, not understanding the feeling that’s
twisted its way into my gut.
We soon left the jousting track and returned to the Red Keep, continuing the
day like it was any other, though I found myself thinking about Sandor a lot,
and the feeling that continued to twist in my gut when I did.
I’d never felt such a thing before and the only thing I could liken it to was
the one time I ate cheese that was a week too old, only less painful and more
nervous. When I would find myself dwelling on this thought I would shake my
head and continue with whatever I was doing.
The next day I was told by Sansa was I would have that day off from my duties
to do with as I pleased.
I decided that I would wonder about the Red Keep and explore, not having had
the time to truly see the place since we arrived.
I walked about till I reached the Throne room.
I saw Baelish standing there looking at the Iron Throne and quickly ducked
behind one of the pillars so he wouldn’t see me.
Then the sound of Varys’ voice echoed through the room. “The first to arrive
and the last to leave. I admire your industry” He said, I could just barely
hear his footsteps as he walked closer Baelish.
I mentally cursed, there was no way I would be able to leave till Varys left,
the man was too perceptive to sneak past and he wouldn’t be able to hide having
seen me from Baelish, who is rather perceptive himself.
“You do move quietly” Baelish said in response.
“We all have our qualities” Varys replied.
“You look a bit lonely today. You should pay a visit to my brothel this
evening. First boy is on the house” Baelish said in a way that made it seem
like an offer, but anyone who knew how men like him worked could tell that it
was a taunt.
“I think you are mistaking business with pleasure” Varys said, probably trying
to look like the statement hadn’t bothered him.
“Am I?” Baelish asked, and I could hear heavier footfalls, telling me that
Baelish was walking closer to Varys. “All those birds that whisper in your ear,
such pretty little things. Trust me, we accommodate all inclinations” Baelish
said. I gagged at what was being insinuated but managed to keep it quiet.
“Oh, I’m sure” Varys said. “Lord Redwin likes his boy very young, I hear” He
continued.
“I’m a purveyor of beauty and discretion, both equally important” Baelish said.
“Though I suppose beauty is a subjective quality no?” Vary asked, but it was a
rhetorical question. “Is it true that Ser Marlin of Tumblestone prefers
amputees?” He asked, a real question it seemed.
“All desires are valid to a man with a full purse” Baelish responded.
“And I heard the most awful rumor about a certain Lord with a taste for fresh
cadavers. Mush be enormously difficult to accommodate that inclination. The
logistics alone, to find beautiful corpses before they rot” Varys said.
Again, I gagged but this one was a bit harder to keep quiet, such a thought…It
was disgusting and made my stomach lurch.
“Strictly speaking such a thing would not be in accordance with the Kings laws”
Baelish said, and I could hear the smirk on his face.
“Strictly speaking” Varys said before the sound the light footsteps echoed,
telling me that Varys was walking away.
“Tell me, does someone somewhere keep your balls in a little box?” Baelish
asked, much louder than needed.
At the angle that Varys was at and where I was standing I could see him close
and lightly clench his eyes as the words. That explained a lot. Why such a high
standing man talked, and acted the way he did. It honestly made me trust him a
bit more, knowing that he wasn’t driven by those desires in any way.
Varys turned and looked at Baelish as he continued. “I’ve always wondered” He
said.
“Do you know that I have no idea where they are, and we had been so close”
Varys seemed to joke, Baelish giving a light chuckle. “But enough about me. How
have you been since we last saw each other?” he asked.
“Since you last saw me or since I last saw you?” Baelish asked.
“Now, the last time I saw you, you were talking to the hand of the King” Varys
said.
“Saw me with your own eyes?” Baelish asked
“Eyes I own” Varys answered.
“Official council business” Baelish drug out the S at the end. “We all have so
much to say to Ned Stark” He continued.
“Everyone is aware of your enduring fondness for Lord Starks wife. If the
Lannister’s were behind the attempt on the Stark boy’s life, and it was
discovered that you helped the Stark come to that convulsion…” Varys trailed
slightly. “To think, a simple word to the Queen…” He continued.
“One shutters at the thought” Baelish said. “But you know something? I do
believe I’ve seen you even more recently than you’ve seen me” He continued.
“Have you?” Varys asked.
I felt my chest clench with worry, did Baelish know about my deal with Varys to
keep Sansa safe?
“Yes, earlier today I distinctly recall you talking to Lord Stark in his
chambers” Baelish said.
“Was that you under the bed?” Varys teased.
“And not long after that is when I saw you escorting a certain…Foreign
dignitary. Counsel business? Of course, you would have friends from across the
Narrow Sea. You’re from there yourself after all. We’re friends, aren’t we,
Lord Varys? I’d like to think we are. So, you can imagine my burden, wondering
if the King might question my friend’s sympathy’s. To stand at a crossroads
where turning left means loyalty to a friend and turning right loyalty to the
Realm” Baelish said.
“Oh please” Varys scoffed.
“To find myself in a position where a simple word to the King” Baelish started
again but was interrupted by Lord Renly entering.
“What are you two conspiring about? Well whatever it is you best hurry up, my
brother is coming” Renly said as he walked by, going in the direction of the
council chambers.
“To a Small Council meeting?” Baelish questioned.
“Disturbing news from far away, hadn’t you heard?” Varys said as he followed
Renly.
Baelish soon followed and I emerged from my hiding place with a relieved
breath.
“That could have ended badly…” I breathed, almost silent.
I quickly walked out and made for the servants exit, deciding that I’d had
enough of the Red Keep for the day.
I wondered the city for a while and, just as I was about to turn around and go
back, I came across what I knew to be a brothel. But it wasn’t what the
establishment was that caught my attention. It was Jaime Lannister and some
Lannister soldiers fighting Ned and his guards from Winterfell.
I watched from around a corner. Watched the Lannister men kill the Northmen.
Watched Ned fight Jaime.
And when I saw a spear go through Ned’s knee I turned and ran back to the Red
Keep.
I went straight to Arya’s room and told her to come with me before going to
Sansa’s room, meeting two of Ned’s guard that remained in the Keep, all but
begging them to come with me.
When I reached Sansa’s room I told her and Arya to stay there while I told the
guards what happened to Ned and That I wanted them to stay with
Arya and Sansa to make sure no one tried to hurt them.
I wasn’t worried for myself, I still had my dagger and I was prepared to use it
should I need to.
But I knew one thing: Nothing good can come of this.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** A Golden Crown *****
Chapter Summary
     More things are happening between the Reader and the Hound. And new
     information regarding the Royal line of succession could start the
     war to end all wars.
Chapter Notes
     I actually liked this chapter. Which is more than I can say for the
     past two.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
No one came for Arya or Sansa, save for a servant that came to say that their
father was injured and being looked at by a Maester, but was expected to live.
I breathed a sigh of relief. If Ned dies then Arya, Sansa, and I are well and
thoroughly fucked. We’ll be at the mercy of the Queen, who no doubt sent her
brother to hurt Ned in the first place.
Over the next few days several things happened. Ned woke up. The King went on a
hunt. I asked Varys to send a raven to Winterfell for me. The note would
explain what was happening here to Robb.
Sansa had a day of studies and attending court with her father. So, after I
helped her dress and prepare for the day I was released to do as I pleased.
I went to the walk ways that over looked the sea and watched the ships that
bobbed lightly in the swells.
I stood there, breathing the fresh air and feeling the warm sun on my face.
It was peaceful.
But such peace is not meant to last.
“Standing out here with your eyes closed. It’s like you’re asking to get
stabbed in the back” A voice said from behind me.
I didn’t need to look to know that it was Sandor standing behind me.
I opened my eyes and turned non-the-less and looked directly at him. “I’m
asking no such thing. And even if I were, I wouldn’t be worried about it”
I responded, my eyes never deviating from his.
That seemed to throw him off a bit, though he tried not to show it. “Why are
you out here anyway? Shouldn’t you be in there with your Lady?” He asked,
gesturing to the Red Keep.
Now it was my turn to be surprised, I assumed he would remember me from the
Tournament, but I didn’t think he would remember who I served or even who I
was. “She doesn’t need me right now. And it’s part of my job not to go where
I’m not needed” I answered before turning back around and looking back at the
water.
I heard the sound of his footsteps and the light clanking of his armor as he
came to stand next to me, about four feet away.
“What about you? Shouldn’t you be guarding the Prince right now?” I asked after
a little bit.
“He said he didn’t need me and sent me away. Figured I’d stay close by in case
he changed his mind” He replied, not looking at me.
I looked up at him, studying him. Not just his face but the look in his eyes,
the air he was giving off. Everything that was Sandor in this moment.
For a few moments, he didn’t seem to notice. Then he looked down at me and
seemed surprised to find me already looking at him.
“You aren’t scared of me, girl?” He asked, almost self-deprecatingly.
“No” I answered. “I see no reason why I should be. You can’t do anything to me
that I don’t want you to” I continued, self-assuredly.
At that he turned to face me, brows furrowed. “And what makes you think that?
You aren’t armed and even if you were you probably can’t lift anything that
would get through my armor. So, what makes you think that I can’t hurt you?” He
asked. His tone was agitated and confused, his words seemed to almost turn into
a rant.
“You can’t hurt me because I wouldn’t let you. You’re large and slow, I’m small
and fast. And you should never assume that someone isn’t armed just because you
can see the weapon” I said before chuckling lightly. “And I wouldn’t need to
get through your armor. I see lots of gaps that a blade small enough would fit
right through. All it takes is one well-placed stab or slice to take even the
biggest giants down” I continued, not moving an inch.
“You’re awfully confident” He said, shrinking the four-foot gap into a little
under a foot.
“Yes. I am” I stated before turning my head back to look at the sea.
“Are you some kind of witch?” He asked suddenly.
I snorted a laugh, looking at him out the corner of my eye. He looked dead
serious. I shook my head. “No, I’m not a witch. What would make you think I
was?” I asked, lifting a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
He didn’t answer.
He just turned back to the sea and the only sound that we could hear was that
of the leaves in the breeze and the distant crashing of the waves on the rocks.
The silence wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It just…Was.
“My name is Y/N, by the way” I said quietly.
“I didn’t ask” He said confusedly.
“I know. But I know your name and I figured it wouldn’t do any harm for you to
know mine” I replied.
The silence returned and stayed for another few moments.
“Why were you looking at me during the Tourney?” He asked, looking down at me
once again.
“Because I was clapping for you. Not Ser Loras” I said, looking up at him.
Our eyes met again and, just like before, my gut twisted and my heart jumped
into my throat.
“I’m not worth clapping for” He said.
“I believe I can judge that for myself” I said, a small smile gracing my
features.
He furrowed his brows in confusion. “Why are you being so…” He seemed to be
looking for a word. “Kind?” He finished.
It was my turn to be confused. Why was I being so kind to him? I know it wasn’t
pity. Men like him didn’t get pity from me, they didn’t need it and often
didn’t want it. I didn’t like him all that much, I didn’t really know him well
enough to like him. So, why was I so kind to him?
“I don’t know. I haven’t figured that out yet” I said. “Why do you make
conversation with me when you avoid it with others?” I asked in return.
He was quiet for a while, like he didn’t know how to answer that question.
“Think on that. Maybe you’ll have an answer next time we speak” I said before
taking a step away and making my way back toward the Red Keep, noticing that it
was getting late and I needed to help Sansa get ready for bed.
I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away, and felt the after effects long
after I was out of his sight.
I went right to Sansa’s room and the moment she saw me she ran over and pulled
me into an excited hug.
“Y/N! You’ll never believe what happened!” She cheered.
“Try me” I said with a lifted brow.
“Joffrey came to see me. He said he was sorry and gave me this” She said,
gesturing to the necklace around her neck, it looked almost exactly like the
one the Queen wears.
“It’s beautiful Sansa. I’m happy that everything is good between you two again”
I said with a small smile.
“That’s not all” She said, pulling me over to her bed to sit down.
I watched her patiently, waiting for her to tell me what had her so excited.
“He kissed me” She whispered joyfully.
My smile slowly dropped but before she could become worried I forced it back.
“T-That’s wonderful, Sansa. Rather inappropriate but I’m happy for you” I said.
That little prick kissed her? I sure hope he understands that she isn’t some
common whore that he can fuck and toss aside. She is to be his wife, no matter
how much I hate the thought, so he better keep his hands to himself till they
marry.
Then a knock came to the door.
Sansa called a come in and the door opened to reveal one of her father’s men.
“Your father wishes to speak with you and your sister in his chambers” He said
before leaving.
“I wonder what he wants” Sansa said as she and I stood.
“Best go find out” I said, following her.
We reached Ned’s room quickly and Arya was already there when we entered.
“Sansa, please sit” Ned said from behind his desk.
Sansa did as told and I remained standing nearby.
Ned came around his desk and stood in front of his daughters, cane in hand and
every step looking painful.
“I’m sending you both back to Winterfell” He said.
“What?!” Sansa asked.
“Listen” Ned started but Sansa didn’t let him finish.
“What about Joffrey?!” She questioned.
“Are you dying because of your leg? Is that why you’re sending us home?” Arya
asked, truly worried for her father’s life.
“What? No!” He gasped.
“Please, father, please don’t!” Sansa begged.
“You can’t! I’ve got my lessons with Syrio! I’m finally getting good!” Arya
said in protest.
“This isn’t a punishment. I want you back in Winterfell for your own safety”
Ned explained.
“Can we take Syrio back with us?” Arya asked.
“Who cares about your stupid dancing teacher? I can’t go! I supposed to marry
Prince Joffrey! I love him and I’m meant to be his Queen and have his
babies!” Sansa ranted.
“Seven Hells” Arya said. I had to fight a laugh at that.
“When you’re old enough I’ll make you a match with someone who’s worthy of you.
Someone who’s brave and gentle and strong” Ned said.
“I don’t want someone brave and gentle and strong. I want him!” Sansa said.
Arya giggled at Sansa’s words and Ned cracked a smile, I did the same.
“He’ll be the greatest King that ever was. A golden lion and I’ll give him sons
with beautiful blond hair!” She said. Ned seemed to realize something and I
furrowed my brows.
“The Lion’s not his sigil, idiot. He’s a Stag like his father” Arya said.
“He is not. He’s nothing like that old drunk King” Sansa said.
Ned wasn’t listening to anything they were saying, too lost in his thoughts.
“Go on girls. Get your Septa and pack your things” He said with finality.
“Wait!” Sansa protested.
“Come on!” Arya said grabbing her sister’s wrist and dragging her from the
room.
“But it’s not fair!” Sansa said as they exited.
I stayed behind, they would be fine without me for a bit. I needed to speak
with Ned.
“You have something on your mind. Does it involve Sansa?” I asked, approaching
the desk.
Ned sat down. “It might” He said distractedly as he pulled a large book in
front of him.
I went around and stood behind him and looked down at it.
The cover said, “The Lineage and Histories of the Great Houses of The Seven
Kingdoms” on the cover and the first page in large, neat, script.
He skipped a few pages and ended up on the Targaryen page. He leafed through a
few more pages till he reached the Baratheon pages.
He placed his finger at the first name and read it out loud. “Lord Orys
Baratheon, black of hair” He said, moving to the next. “Axle Baratheon, black
of hair” Then the next. “Lionel Baratheon, black of hair” Next. “Stefan
Baratheon, black of hair” He flipped to the next page. “Robert Baratheon, black
of hair” Then he moved down to the one that would make the point hit home.
“Joffrey Baratheon, golden haired” He said.
I took a shutter breath as I realized the implications behind this.
“If Joffrey isn’t Robert’s son, then he had no claim to the throne…This
information could start a war” I said.
“Yes. It could” Ned said, looking ahead for a moment before looking at me. Then
he stood, as quickly as his injured leg would allow, and grabbed my arm. “You
are not to say anything about this to anyone” He said, more serious that I’d
ever seen him before. “It could get you killed” He continued, as if I needed
convincing.
I nodded. “You have my word Lord Stark. I will not breath a word of this to
anyone” I said. He let go of my arm and I took my leave, going to Sansa’s room
to help her pack and get ready for bed.
I did not sleep much that night.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** You Win or You Die *****
Chapter Summary
     The King is dead and the reader all but scrambles to help those she
     cares about.
Chapter Notes
     Short chapter is short.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Over the next three days I helped the girls pack their things, much to both
their dismay, and we were almost ready to leave when the news came on the day
we were meant to leave.
King Robert was mortally wounded on his hunt, and they couldn’t save him.
I had a feeling in my gut that told me something very bad was about to happen
and I needed to speak with Ned.
So, I went in search of him, leaving Sansa in the care of Septa.
When I found him, he was hobbling away from the Kings chambers.
“Lord Stark!” I called as I ran to catch up with him.
“Y/N? Is something the matter? Are the girls okay?” He asked worriedly.
“They’re fine. I needed to speak with you about the King. I have a bad feeling.
Something terrible is about to happen” I said, my tone quick and
quiet. I was worried that someone would hear and tell the Queen.
“The King is about to die. I’d say that something terrible has already
happened” Ned said, not understanding what I meant.
“No, Ned. I mean something far worse. We need to leave Kings Landing. Now. Or I
fear what may happen” I said, trying to convey what I can’t put into words.
“Y/N, listen. Go stay with Sansa until I send word. I have everything under
control” He said, placing a hand on my shoulder in a fatherly manner.
I sighed and nodded. “Very well, My Lord” I said before turning to walk away.
He did the same and I stopped and turned back. “Ned” I called. He turned to
look back at me. “Be careful. Please” I said, almost pleading. He nodded and
turned back.
I went back to where Sansa and Septa were having lunch.
“Y/N, what going on? You look frazzled” Septa asked.
“The King is hurt and there’s nothing that the Maesters can do to help him.
He’s going to die” I explained.
Septa gasped and placed a hand over her heart.
“But that doesn’t explain why you look so scared” Sansa said.
I went over to her and placed my hands on her shoulders. “It's complicated” I
explained.
Sansa nodded and went back to her food, though she was only picking at it now.
As the day went on, a messenger was sent to inform us that the King had passed.
With the sinking feeling I had getting worse I went in search of Varys, soon
finding him in his office in the Red Keep.
“Varys. I need you to send a raven for me” I said after closing the door behind
me.
“Whatever for?” He asked, clearly concerned for me, as I knew I looked
terrified.
“I’m going to write a raven scroll and I need you to send it, you can read it
before you do but I need it sent” I said.
He nodded and handed me a quill and a small blank raven scroll.
I wrote as quickly as I could while keeping it legible.
It read. “Robb. King Robert is dead and I fear for the lives of your sisters
and father. I don’t know what will happen but I think the Queen wants us all
dead. If you don’t hear from me in the next three months, assume I’m dead. Y/N”
I rolled it up and handed it to Varys. “Thank you, Varys” I said.
He nodded. “I’ll have it sent by this evening” He said, tying a length of
string around it and tucking it into his pocket.
I returned the nod and left.
I needed to be with Sansa right now. Who knows what the Queen has planned for
her.
I guess it’s true, what they say about the game of thrones…
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** The Pointy End *****
Chapter Summary
     Danger surrounds Reader and Sansa without the protection of Ned and
     his men.
Chapter Notes
     That's three chapters I've posted today. I feel very proud of myself.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
On my way to find Sansa I saw Lannister soldiers killing all the Northmen that
had come with Ned.
My brisk walk turned into a run, fearing that they would come after me.
I soon found her and Septa but before I could say anything the sounds of
fighting were heard ahead of us.
“Hush!” Septa said so she could hear the noise. “Go back to your room. Bar the
doors and do not open them for anyone you do not know” She ordered.
“What is it? What’s happening?” Sansa asked, scared.
“Do as I told you. Run!” Septa whisper-yelled to us.
I nodded to her and followed Sansa back to her room.
We were almost to her room when Sandor rounded a corner and got in our way, I
pushed Sansa behind me.
“Don’t do this, Sandor” I said evenly, not showing how scared I was.
“Stay away from us. I’ll tell me father. I’ll-I’ll tell the Queen” Sansa
stuttered.
He slowly assented a small set of stairs, a smirk finding his face before he
chuckled. “Who do you think sent me?” He asked.
He moved quicker than I thought he could as he grabbed my wrist with one hand
and threw Sansa over his shoulder with the other. I screamed and shouted for
him to let me go, and would have drawn my dagger but I couldn’t reach it.
We were both thrown into Sansa’s room and the door locked from outside.
“Something is very wrong” I said, pacing the room while Sansa was seated at the
writing desk.
Sansa seemed like she was about to say something when the door was opened.
A Lannister soldier entered. “The Queen wishes to speak with you, Lady Stark”
He said.
Sansa nodded to him before turning to me and them back to him. “Can she come
with me?” She asked.
The soldier looked conflicted, probably not expecting such a question, before
he nodded with a. “Very well” And turned to wait for us to follow.
We were taken to the Queens chambers, where Sansa was seated in front of the
Queens desk and I stood behind her.
Not only was the Queen there, but Varys, Maester Pycelle, and Lord Baelish were
all standing behind her.
“Your father has proved to be an awful traitor, my dear” Varys said. I glared
at him for saying such a thing.
“King Robert’s body was still warm when Lord Eddard started plotting to steal
Prince Joffrey’s rightful throne” Maester Pycelle said. I glared at the
old man too, the old pig shouldn’t still have the power he has.
“He wouldn’t do that. He knows how much I love Joffrey. He wouldn’t” She said,
looking to Pycelle. Then she looked to the Queen. “Please, you
Grace, there’s been a mistake, send for my father, he’ll tell you” she pleaded.
“The King was his friend” She finished.
“Sansa, sweetling, you are innocent of any wrong, we know that. Yet you are the
daughter of a traitor. How can I allow you to marry my son?” Cersei asked.
“A child born of a traitor’s seed is no fit consort for our King. She is a
sweet thing now, your Grace, but in ten years, who know what treason she may
hatch” Pycelle said. I had to fight a snarl at him for suggesting that Sansa
would ever do anything of the sort.
“No, I’m not! I’ll be a good wife to him. You’ll see, I’ll be a Queen just like
you, I promise. I won’t hatch anything” Sansa pleaded.
Cersei looked like she was thinking for a moment when Baelish spoke. “The girl
is innocent, you Grace, she should be given a chance to prove her loyalty” He
said. I wasn’t sure how to feel at this moment. I was hoping they would just
send her home.
Cersei sighed. “Little Dove, you must write to lady Catelyn and your brother,
the eldest, what’s his name?” the Queen asked as she placed a piece of parament
before Sansa.
“Robb” Sansa answered.
“Word of your fathers arrest will reach him soon no doubt, best it comes from
you” Cersei said.
I looked at Varys, asking with my eyes if he sent the raven I’d asked him to,
and he gave a small, almost unperceivable nod.
“If you would help your father, urge your brother to keep the Kings Peace”
Cersei continued as she placed an inked quill by the parchment. “Tell him to
come to Kings Landing and swear his fealty to Joffrey” She ordered.
“If-If I could see my father, talk to him about” She stopped herself at the
look on the Queens face.
“You disappoint me, child” Cersei sighed. “We’ve told you of your fathers
treason. Why would you want to speak to a traitor?” She asked and I wanted to
smack her, she was intentionally trying to keep Sansa away from her father.
“I only meant that…What will happen to him?” Sansa asked.
“Well, that depends” Cersei answered.
“On-On what?” Sansa asked.
“On your brother” Cersei answered picking up the quill. “And you” She finished.
Sansa had no choice and took the quill and began writing what the Queen told
her to.
When she was done we were sent back to her room.
We both stayed there, as I was not allowed to leave, we took our meals there,
and slept there, for multiple days before Sansa was summoned to come to the
court. Not once did we see or hear of Septa, or Arya, and I feared the worst,
thought I didn’t say so as I dressed and prepared Sansa.
I escorted her to the throne room and stayed with her. While Maester Pycelle
read a list of rewards that various men were receiving for their work with the
City Watch and Kings Guard, Sansa moved to stand among the small crowd that was
gather before the throne.
Many of the men it the crowd stared and glared at Sansa, often only moving out
of her way when she couldn’t go any further.
Both the Queen and Joffrey Sent her small smiles when they saw her but I knew
that neither were real.
“In the place of the traitor, Eddard Stark, it is the wish of his Grace that
Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, and Warden of the West, be appointed
Hand of the King” Pycelle said. The crowd murmured at this but that wasn’t what
caught my attention. It was Joffrey looking at Sansa with a smile before
shifting and focusing back on what Pycelle was saying. “Lastly, in these times
of treason and turmoil it is the view of council that the life and safety of
King Joffrey be of paramount importance” The old man finished before rolling
the scroll he was reading from.
“Ser Barristan Selmy” The Queen summoned as she stood from her seat next to
Joffrey.
Ser Barristan moved from the line of Kings Guard that stood between the crowd
and Joffrey and stood facing them. “You Grace, I am yours to command” He said
as he knelt before them.
“Rise, Ser Barristan” The Queen said, Barristan obeyed. “You may remove your
helm” She continued, he did. “You have served the Realm long and faithfully,
every man and woman in the Seven Kingdoms owes you thanks. But it is time to
put aside your armor and sword, it is time to rest and loo back with pride on
your many years of service” She said.
Barristan looked confused and baffled. “Your Grace, the Kings Guard is a sworn
brotherhood. Our vows are taken for life. Only death relieves us of our sacred
trust” He said.
“Whose death, Ser Barristan? Yours or you Kings?” The Queen asked.
“You let my father die” Joffrey said. “You’re too old to protect anybody” He
said leaning forward in his seat.
Ser Barristan started to address the King again but Cersei interrupted him.
“The council has determined that Ser Jaime Lannister will take your place as
Lord Commander of the Kings Guard” She said.
“The man who profaned his blade with the blood of the King he was sworn to
defent!” Barristan started.
“Careful, Ser!” Cersei scolded.
“We have nothing but gratitude for your long service, good Ser. You shall be
given a stout Keep beside the sea with servants to look after your every need”
Varys said.
“A hole to die in. And men to bury me” Barristan said disdainfully. He started
to remove his cloke. “I am a Knight. I shall die a Knight!” He said as he threw
it on the floor with his helmet and gloves.
“A naked Knight apparently” Baelish said, causing the men in the throne room to
laugh, adding insult to injury.
Ser Barristan drew his sword, causing all the other men of the Kings Guard to
draw theirs. “Even now I could cut through the five of you like carving through
a cake!” He said. Then he suddenly threw it on the floor, causing Joffrey to
jump, much to my entertainment. “Here boy! Melt it down and
add it to the others!” He said as he turned and walked out of the throne room
with his head held high.
“If any man in this hall has other matters to set before his Grace, let him
speak now, or go forth and hold his silence” The Harold said.
The room was silent as Cersei and Sansa made eye contact. Then she spoke. “Your
Grace” Sansa said. The echo was almost painful.
“Come forward, My Lady” Joffrey said, seemingly happy at getting to talk to
Sansa.
“The Lady Sansa of House Stark” The Harold addressed as she walked forward to
stand before Joffrey. I followed as close as I could, stopping at the edge of
the crowd.
“Do you have some business with the King and the council, Sansa?” Cersei asked
with a smile.
“I do” Sansa stated before sinking to her knees. “As it please your Grace. I
ask mercy for my father, Lord Eddard Stark who is Hand of the King” She
said. I held in the fearful gasp at her words, if they decide to punish her for
this then there is nothing I can do but watch.
“Treason is a noxious weed! It should be torn out! Root-!” Pycelle started, but
was interrupted by Joffrey.
“Let her speak. I want to hear what she says” He ordered.
“Thank you, you Grace” Sansa said.
“Do you deny your fathers crime?” Baelish asked.
“No, my Lords. I know he must be punished, all I ask is mercy. I know my Lord
father must regret what he did, he was King Robert’s friend and
loved him, you all know he loved him. He never wanted to be hand until the King
asked him. They must have lied to him, Lord Renly or Lord Stannis
or somebody, they must have lied!” She pleaded.
“He said I wasn’t the King, why did he say that?” Joffrey asked, seeming
genuinely confused.
“He was badly hurt, Maester Pycelle was giving him Milk of the Poppy” She
offered as explanation.
“Such sweet innocence. And yet they say that wisdom oft come from the mouth of
babes” Varys said.
“Treason is treason!” Pycelle said. Seriously someone knock him out or put rag
in his mouth or something to shut him up!
“Anything else?” Joffrey asked.
“If you still have any affection in your heart for me, please, do me this
kindness, you Grace” Sansa begged.
Joffrey leaned back on the throne with an expression that looked like he was
actually considering it. “Your sweet words have moved me. But you
father has to confess. He has to confess and say that I’m the King, or there’ll
be no mercy for him” Joffrey said.
Sansa gave a small nod. “He will” She said before standing.
“Anyone else?” The Queen asked as Sansa came back toward me.
When no one answered Joffrey declared us adjourned and we all left.
May the Seven have mercy on us.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** Baelor *****
Chapter Summary
     Reader has managed to catch feelings for a certain Hound and Joffrey
     made everything even worse than it already was by being the pain in
     the ass that he is.
Chapter Notes
     I'm sorry if that whole scene with Sandor seems forced or ill-
     fitting, I liked how it turned out so I left it in.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Over the next few days I did everything in my power to help Sansa, which
ultimately came down to bringing her lemon cakes with her lunch and dinner to
make her feel better and staying with her as much as was possible.
I begged Varys to look for Arya, who had gone missing and hadn’t been seen for
multiply days since the Lannister men slaughtered all Ned’s remaining men.
Last I’d heard she was with her dancing teacher, whom was killed by the
Lannister men, and had run off to escape capture. No one had any idea of where
she could be and I begged the Seven to keep her safe. Part of me hoped that she
had left Kings Landing and made for Winterfell, while another hoped that she
would be found and returned to my side so I could keep her safe with her
sister.
The day before everything truly went to shit Sansa and I had been in her room
trying to pass the time anyway we knew how. Which meant I was reading to her
while she practiced her embroidery, though I could tell she was getting bored
and tired of pricking her fingers on the needle because her mind was elsewhere.
“Shall we go for a walk?” I suggested, laying the open book on my lap.
“Yes, please” She all but pleaded as she placed her needlework aside and stood.
I closed the book and set it on my chair as I stood and followed her out the
door.
We walked paths that over looked the sea silently as they wind blew our hair
and brought the scent of the sea to our noses while the sound of crashing waves
filled out ears.
“They’re going to kill him…” Sansa whispered, her tone showing how terrified
she was of the very thought.
“No, Sansa, your father is a smart man who will do what must be done for you
and your family. He will admit to his…Crimes if that is what must be
done…” I said, hesitating to say what I had no choice but to say while in
public. I knew what Ned was really in trouble for. He found out the Queens
little secret and tried to do something about it and now she will see to it
that he can’t oust her.
But I couldn’t tell Sansa that. I couldn’t tell anyone that. If I did I would
be next and I couldn’t leave Sansa at the mercy of these people.
Sansa didn’t say anything after that and we went back to silently walking.
We stayed like that for what felt like hours before Sansa let out a sigh. “I’m
going back to my room” She said turning around.
“Would you like me to join you?” I asked, knowing that she didn’t.
“No, I’d like to be alone for a while” She said. I nodded and continued.
I made it to a secluded part of the gardens and sat on a bench that was
situated there.
I closed my eyes and let the sounds of birds singing and the leaves rustling
relax me.
“Every time I see you your eyes are closed. Do you sleep sitting up or are you
just strange like everyone thinks you to be?” A familiar gruff voice rang
out.
I opened my eyes and found Sandor standing there looking at me, an expression
that looked like he was trying not to smirk at me on his face. “I was unaware
that everyone thought me strange” I said as I stood and slowly made a wide
circle to get to the exit of the little garden nook. I didn’t want to be near
Sandor, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t angry at him for what happened when Ned
was arrested.
“I thought you weren’t scared of me” He said, sounding almost
disappointed…Almost.
“I’m not” I answered shortly.
“Then why are you trying to run away?” He asked as he quickly began to approach
me. I took multiple steps back, till my back reached the tall hedges that
dwarfed even Sandor. He stopped a few inches from me and scoffed. “That looks
like fear to me” He said, I don’t know if he was sad at that fact or not.
“It’s not fear. It’s distrust. Now get out of my way” I said angrily as I
glared up at him.
“It was foolish of you to trust me to begin with” He said, not moving.
“You’re right. It was” I said before sidestepping and walking away.
I had only just barely reached the leafy archway that lead out when the sound
of clanking armor and a hand grabbing my arm stopped me. A fear
like ice in my veins gripped me and I stooped low, grabbing my dagger from my
calf, where I’d moved it, and brought it up to point between where the
breastplate ended and the underarm started. All of this happened in the span of
a couple of seconds, far too fast for the person grabbing be to see it coming
and react.
When my vision and mind cleared I was left face to face with Sandor, whom had a
shocked and bewildered expression on his face, which was parallel to mine as he
was hunching a bit. He’d obviously never had a woman do such a thing to him
before.
I was tempted to drive the blade home and wound him for what he’d done to Sansa
and I but a voice in the back of my mind told me that I’d regret it if I did.
So, instead, I pulled the blade back and just stared at him. I was certain that
the expression that was on my face wasn’t far from the one he was still making.
“I…I-I’m sorry…I don’t…” I croaked, unable to move or string together full
sentences. Why had I panicked? I knew that Sandor wouldn’t hurt me yet I almost
hurt him…What had caused that fight or flight instinct to kick in like that?
I don’t remember moving my free hand, nor do I remember placing it on his
scarred cheek, but that’s where it ended up. The skin was surprisingly soft to
the touch, not rough or leathery like one would think, it felt like the flesh
of a scar that adorned one of my knees from a fall I had when I was younger.
Soft but not like normal flesh.
What I do remember is when our lips met, it wasn’t a slow lean forward till
they found each other. But it wasn’t a sudden, hard, clash that made our teeth
clack together from the force either. It was him holding back the urge to move
quickly and me trying not to move too slow. It was the scratch of the stubble
on his cheeks and the roughness of his lips, dry and slightly cracked. It was
the clatter of my dagger hitting the ground as my other hand came to rest on
his other cheek to pull him closer while his own hands gripped at my waist like
I was his lifeline.
Then, like all things in life, it ended. We pulled away and I looked up at him,
lips parted as I panted lightly. His expression was unreadable as he stepped
away and ceased all bodily contact. He didn’t smile or smirk, he didn’t say
anything. He just started walking away.
I had to take a deep breath and swallow the lump in my throat as I tried not to
let the feeling of rejection settle in my soul. If I let that feeling take over
I would do something stupid and right now I needed to focus on Sansa’s
wellbeing, not my love life.
Once he was out of sight I replaced my dagger and started for Sansa’s room once
more.
When I arrived, I found her already sleeping in her bed. I took that as
permission to take my leave and went to my quarters for the evening.
As I lay in bed waiting for the abys of sleep to claim me, I wondered when my
affections for Jon faded and when they reappeared for Sandor. It didn’t make
sense how feelings that I’d had for almost 10 years could be changed so easily.
I forced my mind away from it as I turned to face the wall and went to sleep.
The next day, while I was getting Sansa ready for the day a knock came at the
door.
I covered Sansa in her dressing robe and opened the door. Behind it stood a
guard.
“King Joffrey sent me to tell you that it’s time for your father to confess or
die” He said before walking away.
I wondered what he meant for a moment as I closed the door and finished getting
her ready, but in more publicly appropriate attire.
I hadn’t expected this day so come so quickly. Nor had I expected it to be so
sudden, at least a days-notice would have been nicer than this.
I shook the thoughts away as the sound of the Red Keeps bells ringing started
and we rushed to the Sept of Baelor, where a stage had been set up and the
Queen and Joffrey already stood.
Sansa took her place to the left of the Queen and I sent to stand next to
Sandor, whom stood behind the King, so I wouldn’t be in the way or mistaken for
being more important than I am.
The bells continued to chime as that brought Ned out and the crowd shouted and
booed, as if they knew that he had done something wrong when many of them just
wanted someone higher than them to hate.
He was dragged through the crowd and brought to the stage.
“I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and Hand of the King” Ned started
before looking to Sansa, whom nodded hopefully.
I started praying that the Seven would make him put aside his honor and make
him say what the Queen wanted him to.
“I come before you to confess my treason, in the sight of Gods and Men. I
betrayed the faith of my King and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to
protect and defend him children. But before his blood was cold, I plotted to
murder his son and…” He swallowed stiffly. “Seize the Throne for
myself” He finished.
The crowd began booing again and I looked out over them and to the large statue
in the center. The sound that almost left me would have caused an even bigger
scene than what was already taking place as I saw Arya kneeling next to the
legs of the tall statue.
I thanked the Old Gods and New that she was alive, albeit dirty and clearly
scared, but alive no less.
A rock flew up and hit Ned in the side of the head and I heard Sansa gasp as I
too let out a wince at the sight. Ned staggered and Sandor set him right again
before returning to where he’d been before.
“Let the High Sept and Baelor The Blessed bear witness to what I say” Ned
started again before taking another hesitant gulp. “Joffrey Baratheon in the
One True Heir to the Iron Throne” He said.
Joffrey looked happily at his mother and Sansa, like a child getting a toy that
they really wanted, and I let out a relieved breath that Ned did what he needed
to do for his family.
“By the grace of all the Gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the
Realm” He finished.
The crowd once again started to shout and boo at him and Sansa looked scared
that they may try to hurt him.
Then Grand Maester Pycelle stepped forward. “And as we sin, so do we suffer.
This man has confessed his crimes in sight of Gods and Men. The
Gods are just but Blessed Baelor taught us that they can also be merciful”
Pycelle said in his halting manner before turning to Joffrey. “What is to be
done with this Traitor, Your Grace?” He asked.
The crowd started again and Joffrey raised his hand to silence them. “My mother
wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the Knightwatch. Stripped of all titles and
power so he would serve the Realm in permanent exile. And my Lady Sansa has
begged Mercy for her father” He said looking at Sansa, who sent him a thankful
smile. “But, they’ve the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your King,
treason will never go unpunished!” He declared.
I felt my heart drop into my gut and my throat go dry in fear of what he was
about to do.
“Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!” He ordered of the mute headsmen.
Both Sansa and the Queen tried to make him stop and a guard grabbed Sansa. I
wasn’t going to have a man lay his hands of Sansa so I went over and held her
back myself, she may be taller but I am far stronger.
She begged Joffrey to change his mind as Ned looked our way.
Two guards forced Ned to his knees as Ser Ilyn donned his hood and drew his
sword. Silent tears ran down my face as I held the distraught redhead.
And then, in a matter of seconds, Ser Ilyn brought his sword down on Ned’s neck
and it was done.
Sansa collapsed in my arms and I couldn’t hold her deadweight so I sank to the
floor myself and held her.
All I could do was beg the Gods to have the mercy that I knew others wouldn’t.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** Blood and Fire *****
Chapter Summary
     With the end of season one, we find Reader and Sansa in the aftermath
     of Ned's death. Hearts are broken, oaths are made, and the Game of
     Thrones truly begins.
Chapter Notes
     Season one is officially finished! I may take a short brake and
     finish other stories (i.e. Little to Big and Anger to Love) before I
     start on season 2 but we'll have to see what happens, I have a lot of
     things going on in my personal life that keep me from sitting down
     and writing so it depends mostly on those.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
After the execution, a guard helped me get Sansa back to her room and as soon
as he’d laid her on her bed I’d shooed him away with every bit of malice that I
couldn’t show Joffrey or his mother.
After barring the door, I sat on Sansa’s bed and held her unconscious body in
my arms as I wept, hard, gasping sobs that rattled my bones, left my throat
sore, and my head pounding. Sansa didn’t wake.
I stayed there that night, as I didn’t want to leave Sansa by herself and I
didn’t know when she’d wake.
I didn’t catch a glimpse of those blue eyes till morning was half over.
She slowly sat up in her bed and looked at me, her eyes asking the question
that her mouth didn’t dare form. I nodded slowly in answer and I watched as she
broke down into sobs of her own.
With speed like that of a worried mother I wrapped my arms around her and
pressed her face to my shoulder to muffle the sounds. If someone heard her
crying for her father then it could spell even more trouble for the both of us
and I didn’t dare risk it, but I didn’t dare tell her to stop either.
“Why?” She asked, more begging than anything else, gripping me like I was the
last thread that held together her sanity.
“Because he’s as mad as the King before his father and those who serve him are
just as wicked” I answered, my tone low so only she could hear me.
“I want to go home…” She sobbed lowly, her nails digging into my dress-sleeve.
“I know. I do too. And I will make it happen. I swear to you, Sansa. I will get
us home” I said, the determination burning in my eyes as my own grip grew
tighter.
She was about to say something else when a knock came at the door followed by a
gruff voice. “You are summoned to court by His Grace” they said before the
sound of footsteps echoed away.
I sighed and looked down at Sansa. “Let’s get you dressed and looking
presentable” I said as I helped her stand and went to her closet.
After getting her dressed and cleaning up her face, getting rid of as much
redness as I could, I escorted her to the Throne Room.
I lost track of time as we stood at the balcony and listened to the people come
and go. When I tuned back into what was happening I noticed a man sitting on
the floor with a stringed instrument on his lap.
“The boar’s great tusks, they boded ill, for good King Roberts health” He sang,
and I could already see this ending badly. “And the beast was every bit as fat
as Robert was himself. But our brave King cried ‘Do your worst! I’ll have your
ugly head! You’re nowhere near as murderous as the Lion in my bed!’” I fought
the urge to both laugh and shake my head at the poor fool down there as he
continued. “King Robert lost his battle and he failed his final test. The Lion
ripped his balls off and…” He hesitated to finish, seeing the Queens
expression. “The boar did all the rest” He said with a few final strums,
looking like he knew he was in for it.
The Joffrey started clapping, and everyone else joined in, Sansa and myself
included.
“Very amusing” Joffrey started, looking amused on the surface. “Isn’t it a
funny song?” He addressed the crowd. “Thank you for your rendition. I
imagine it was even better received at that tavern” He said, now more clearly
irritated.
“I’m so sorry, Your Grace” The man said as he slowly stood, his instrument in
his hands. “I’ll never sing it again, I swear” He promised.
“Tell me, which do you favor? Your fingers or your tongue?” Joffrey asked.
I could see the man’s heart drop to his toes at the question.
“Your Grace?” he questioned as if he didn’t understand.
“Fingers or your tongue. If you got to keep one, which would it be?” Joffrey
clarified. The man struggled to answer. “Or I could just cut your throat”
Joffrey continued a little quieter than before.
“Every man needs hands, Your Grace” The man finally answered.
“Good!” Joffrey perked up at the man answering. “Tongue it is!” He said as
guards approached the man while the man tried to beg Joffrey not to.
“Ser Ilyn, who better than you to carry out the sentence?” Joffrey beckoned and
Ser Ilyn took out his dagger and a pair of plyers before holding them
over the fire.
“Your Grace, please! I beg you! I’ll never sing again!” The man pleaded.
“I’m done for the day” Joffrey said as he stood and removed his crown. “I leave
the rest of the matters to you, mother” He said handing it off to
Sandor.
The man continued to beg as Joffrey approached us. “You look quite nice” He
said to Sansa, though I wondered what he was talking about as Sansa
looked terrible, despite my best efforts.
“Thank you, My Lord” Sansa said.
“Your Grace” He corrected quickly. “I’m King now” He said. Behind him she
watched Ser Ilyn start to cut the man’s tongue out. “Walk with me, I want
to show you something” He ordered.
“What of the handmaiden?” One of his guards asked.
“She’ll join us” Joffrey said, looking at me.
“Yes, Your Grace” I said with a curtsey.
Joffrey walked past and Sansa watched him go, till Sandor stopped in front of
us. “Do as you’re bid child” He said, looking at Sansa before looking at
me. I started back with narrowed eyes and teeth gritted so tight my jaw ticked.
To say I was mad at Sandor would be an understatement but there’s
not much to be done for it. The feelings that I’ve developed for him matter
little when put against my need to protect Sansa.
Sansa started walking, me following close behind, with the guards behind me. I
didn’t like it.
As we walked he talked about the wedding. Then we started getting closer to our
destination, as he started to slow his gate. “And as soon as you’ve
had your blood I’ll put a son in you. Mother says that shouldn’t be long” He
said as he stopped and looked up at the tops of the outer walls.
The sounds of Flies buzzing and the smell somehow hadn’t reached me till that
moment but when it did I had to fight a gag as the contents of my
stomach tried to escape.
“No, please, no!” Sansa begged when her eyes landed on what I now saw to be her
father’s head on a spear. One of the guards grabbed her so she
couldn’t run away and I could feel Sandor standing behind me, probably for the
same reason.
“This one’s your father, this one here” Joffrey said pointing. Sansa wasn’t
looking, I didn’t blame her. “Look at it and see what happens to traitors”
Joffrey ordered.
“You promised be merciful” She whimpered, still looking away.
“I was. I gave him a clean death” Joffrey said, looking up at Ned’s head then
back at Sansa. “Look at him” He ordered, his could have been
misunderstood as being gentle if not for the words themselves.
“Please, let me go home, I won’t do any treason I swear it” Sansa begged,
looking at the floor.
“Mother says I’m still to marry you, so you’ll stay here and obey” Joffrey said
firmly. It was quiet for a moment before he seemed to get more irritated. “Look
at him!” He shouted.
Sansa slowly looked up and I could see her spirit die a little more. It angered
me that there was nothing I could do and it made me hate Joffrey, the
Queen, Meryn, and everyone else more.
“Well?” Joffrey prodded, as if he was expecting her to be proud of him.
“How long do I have to look?” Sansa asked, eyes still on her father’s head.
“As long as it pleases me” He answered, his proud smirk dropping. “Do you want
to see the rest?” He asked, sounding almost like a child showing
off their toys.
“If it please You Grace” She answered.
“That’s your Septa, there” He said pointing.
It was my turn to gasp, I hadn’t seen her since she told Sansa and I to run, I
didn’t know what had happened to her, now I do and it’d worse than I’d
imagined.
I fought the urge to cry and turned my sorrow into determination to protect
Sansa and rage to kill Joffrey.
“I tell you what, I’m going to give you a present. After I raise my armies and
kill your traitor brother, I’m going to give you his head as well” He said.
“Or maybe he’ll give me yours” Sansa said in return, still looking at up at the
heads on the wall, then she looked at Joffrey with a kind of defiance I’d never
seen on her before. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t proud but her timing wasn’t
the best.
“My mother tells me a King should never strike his Lady” Joffrey said before
looking at Ser Meryn, who was holding Sansa still. “Ser Meryn” Joffrey said.
Ser Meryn turned Sansa and struck her once on one cheek then again on the
other. I ground my teeth and went to approach him but a hand from
behind me took my arms and kept me in place.
Sansa turned back to face Joffrey and looked very much the broken-hearted child
she was. She looked down at the multiple stories below the platform that
Joffrey and her currently stood on, then she looked back at Joffrey with an
expression that spelled death for the blond in front of her. I
knew what she was thinking and was about to move to stop her when Sandor moved
from behind me and grabbed her shoulder.
“Here, girl” He said wiping the blood from her lip with a ragged cloth, leaving
it in her hands after.
“Will you obey now? Or do you need another lesson?” Joffrey asked. Sansa didn’t
answer as her hands fiddled with the cloth. Joffrey must have not
wanted to wait for an answered and walked off with a “I’ll look for you in
court” before disappearing, Ser Meryn right behind him.
Sandor leaned a little closer to her. “Save yourself some pain, girl. Give him
what he wants” He said before moving to walk away. Sansa went to give him back
his scrap of cloth but he refused. “You’ll be needing that again” He said
before turning away, now facing me. “You watch yourself. Not all the Kings
Guard are as nice as I am” He said like he was joking but I knew he was
serious. I didn’t say anything as he walked away.
Now alone, I approached Sansa and wrapped my arms around her as she looked once
more up at her father’s head before looking at me. “Take me to my room” She
begged and I nodded as I guided her back.
That night when I went back to my room I was met with a raven scroll placed
neatly on my pillow. I rushed to it, thinking it to be a reply and was
met with a blank piece of parchment then I noticed the other note next to it. I
picked it up and read it silently.
“Y/N, please write something to send to Robb so he knows you and his sister are
alive. -Varys”
I sighed and took up a quill as I thought of what to write. Then the words
started to flow.
“Robb.
Sansa and I are alive but far from well, they aren’t torturing us but Joffrey
is getting as close as he can. I long for the days back in Winterfell when
everything was simple and made sense but those times, I fear, are gone forever.
They killed your father in cold blood and Arya is missing, or they’ve done
something to her. I’ve not heard from her since the day your father was
arrested but she is a smart, strong, girl who, I’m sure, is trying to find her
way home. Please come for us soon.
-Y/N”
I tied it up with a piece of string and placed it on my night stand with the
plan to take it to Varys as soon as possible.
I lit the candle next to my bed and burned the note from Varys, as I didn’t
want him to get caught helping me, before changing into my bed clothes and
laying down.
I laid in bed for hours before I finally fell into a fitful sleep that left me
far from well rested.
The next day Sansa had nothing she needed to do and didn’t want to leave her
room so she sent me out to do as I please, I wanted to stay with her but she
said she wanted to be alone so I had no other choice than to do as she wished.
I was going to pass through the Throne Room on my way out of the Keep but was
caught by the sight of Baelish looking up at the Throne again.
Then I saw Varys approach him and I was once again forced to hid behind a
pillar to avoid being caught listening in.
“When you imagine yourself up there, how do you look?” Varys asked. “Does the
crown fit? Do all the Lords and Lady simper and bow, the ones that sneered at
you for years?” He continued.
“It’s hard for them to simper and bow without heads” Baelish answered simply.
“A man with great ambition and no morals, I wouldn’t bet against you” Varys
said.
“And what would you do, my friend, if you found yourself sitting up there?”
Baelish asked.
“I must be one of the few men in this city who doesn’t want to be King” Varys
answered.
“You must be one of the few men in this city who isn’t a man” Baelish quipped.
“You can do better than that” Varys said sounding more disappointed in the
badly picked jab than hurt by it. The sound of light footsteps told me
Varys was walking.
“When they castrated you, did they take the pillar with the stones? I’ve always
wondered” Baelish asked as he followed Varys till they were walking
together.
“Have you? do you spend a lot of time wondering what’s between my legs?” Varys
asked in response.
“I picture a gash, like a woman’s. Is that about right?” Baelish asked.
“I am flattered, of course, to be pictured at all” Varys answered.
“Must be strange for you, even after all these years. A man from another land,
despised by most, feared by all” Baelish said as they both passed the
pillar I was hidden behind.
“Am I? That’s good to know. Do you lie awake at night fearing my gash?” Varys
asked, I had to keep from laughing at the joke.
“But you carry on, whispering in one Kings ear, and then the next” Baelish
continued as if Varys hadn’t spoken at all. Then they stopped walking. “I
admire you” He finished.
“And I admire you, Lord Baelish. A grasper from a minor House with a talent for
befriending powerful men and women” Varys responded.
“A useful talent, I’m sure you’d agree” Baelish said and Varys hummed in
agreement.
“So, here we stand, in mutual admiration and respect” Varys said.
“Playing our rolls” Baelish said.
“Serving our new King” Varys finished as new footsteps filled the hall and I
tensed in fear that I would be caught.
“Long may he reign” Baelish said. “My King” He continued.
“My King” Varys said.
“My Lords” Joffrey said as he seemed to completely bypass them. “Shall we
begin?” He continued.
When they left the hall, I sighed in relief. That was twice now. “I need to
stop coming in here when court isn’t in session…” I murmured as I went on
my way.
That day was spent wondering the city till late in the evening when the sun was
on the horizon.
Then I returned to the place where Ned’s head was on the wall. I looked up at
it and kneeled.
“I swear to you Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, I will see your daughter
home. No matter what it may cost me. I swear on my life” I said. I’d never
made an oath before but there was no other that I’d be willing to make.
They want a Game of Thrones? They’ll get a Game of Thrones.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** The North Remembers *****
Chapter Summary
     Season two begins with Joffrey's Name Day, a visit from Tyrion, and
     even more questions for Y/N to find answers to.
Chapter Notes
     I'm not dead I promise!!! I've been going through a lot of life stuff
     and just couldn't get myself to sit down and write. But I'm back,
     more it less, and I'm starting Season two! I had to do a bit of
     winging in this chapter as there's not a lot of Sansa in this
     particular episode, let me know if there are any mistakes and I'll be
     happy to fix them!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Months passed and soon Joffrey’s Name Day came. Sansa and I found ourselves at
the celebration, which consisted of a fighting tournament and a feast.
I stood behind Sansa’s seat at the tournament and watched as men fought and
died for our amusement, I found it disgusting and a waste of good fighters,
what with the war that Joffrey was waging against Robb, but at the same time it
was removing fighters from their ranks. It’s a conflicting feeling, wanting
these men dead but also not.
Sandor was pit against most of the fighters, per Joffrey’s orders, and he won
against all of them, which was no surprise to anyone.
I watched as he knocked yet another dead man over the balcony and into the
small court below.
Joffrey stood from his seat and went to the ledge to watch as the body was
dragged away, the crowd clapping and cheering for Sandor’s victory. “Well
struck…” He said before looking up at where Sandor stood. “Well struck, Dog!”
He called as Sandor removed his helmet. Joffrey looked at
Sansa with an almost giddy smile before pointing down at where the man had
landed. “Did you like that?” He asked her, like he was expecting her to get the
same rush that he clearly got from watching someone die.
She looked up at him from her seat. “It was well struck, your Grace” She said,
sounding almost like she was in a trance.
“I already said it was well struck” Joffrey scoffed, clearly annoyed that she
was agreeing so easily.
“Yes, your Grace” She replied before looking back toward Sandor, her tone
unchanging.
It broke my heart to see her so numb. Her eyes had lost that innocent shine
that she’d always had and her skin was paler than ever. She didn’t talk about
it but I knew she wasn’t sleeping, and when she did it was fitful and left just
as tired when she woke and when she laid down.
Joffrey continued to look at her like she was stupid for a moment longer before
turning back to the area where they were fighting.
“Who’s next?” He called.
“Lothor Brune! A freerider in service to Lor Bealish!” The announcer called as
the man stepped into the fighting area. “Ser Dontos The Red! of House Hollard!”
He announced, but the man didn’t show, so he called his name again, clearly
trying to get the man’s attention.
“Here I am!” Ser Dontos called as he descended the stairs to our left, the
wrong set of stairs for where he needed to be. His armor was half on and his
helmet was off, his weapon was held precariously under his arm, dragging
against the ground and clinking with every stair he went down. He managed to
get down the stairs only to drop his helmet clumsily. After grabbing it and
placing it back on his head he stands before us with his head bowed. “Sorry,
your Grace” He said, trying to make sure his helmet was on the right way. “My
deepest apologies” He continued.
“Are you drunk?” Joffrey asked, though it was clear that the man was, at least
a little, drunk.
Ser Dontos removed his helmet quickly and looked at Joffrey. “No” He answered
quickly. “Ah- No, your Grace. I had two cups of wine” He answered, like that
would make it better.
“Two cups?” Joffrey repeated and the man nodded. “That’s not much at all” He
said before gesturing to the small table under the tent we were under, on it
was a few cups, some full, and a pitcher of wine. “Please, have another cup” He
offered. Joffrey was never this generous so the sight was more than a little
confusing.
The clearly picked up on the odd offer. “Are you sure, your Grace?” He asked.
“Yes. To celebrate my Name Day. Have two, have as much as you like” Still
looking and sounding like he was doing this out of the kindness of his heart,
of which there was none.
“I would be honored, your Grace” Ser Dontos said with a small smile and a short
bow.
Joffrey looked to Ser Maryn and I knew where this was going. “Ser Maryn, help
Ser Dontos celebrate my Name Day” He ordered, the kind smile that he’d had
melting into a disdainful look. “See that he drinks his fill” He orders.
Ser Dontos clearly wasn’t hearing the malic in Joffrey’s voice, as he nodded
and smiled like he’d won something amazing.
Ser Maryn and two other Kings Guard grabbed Ser Dontos and drug him over so we
could see him better, the crowd gasping and murmuring, as Joffrey returned to
his seat.
One solder held him still while the other grabbed a full cask of wine and Ser
Maryn got a funnel. The funnel was forced into his mouth as the cask was opened
and wine was pour into the funnel. Ser Dontos made sickening gurgling sounds as
he choked on the wine, unable to swallow it fast enough.
“You can’t!” Sansa cries, watching the scene.
Joffrey’s gaze snapped to her. “What did you say?” He asked in a sharp but
quiet tone. Her gaze slowly shifted to him, she clearly hadn’t meant to say
that out loud. “Did you say I can’t?” He asked, daring her to confirm it.
“I only meant, it would be bad luck to kill a man on your Name Day” She says,
though there’s no such saying.
“What kind of stupid peasant superstition…?” He muttered looking back at Ser
Dontos.
“The girl is right. What a man sows on his Name Day, he reaps all year” Sandor
pipes up, confirming the falsehood.
Joffrey sighs. “Take him away. I’ll have him killed tomorrow, the fool” He
ordered.
Ser Maryn and the other two guards let him go and he felt to his hands and
knees, vomiting up the wine that was forced down his gullet, it looked like a
sickening red fountain that made me want to gag.
“He is a fool, you’re so cleaver to see it” Sansa started and I could tell she
was up to something that may save the man’s life. “He’ll make a much better
fool than a knight. He doesn’t deserve the mercy of a quick death” She said,
looking at Joffrey.
Joffrey looked at Sansa then at Ser Dontos. “Did you hear my Lady, Ser Dontos?”
He asked before standing. “From this day, you’ll be my new fool” He announced
proudly.
Ser Dontos looked our way and gave a little bow. “Thank you, your Grace. And
you, My Lady, thank you” He said, more thankful to Sansa than to
Joffrey.
Ser Maryn and the other two took him away as a call of mock joy came from the
other direction. “Beloved nephew!”
We all looked over and were met with the sight of Lord Tyrion approaching us,
still wearing his Lannister red armor. The crowd murmured and gasped at seeing
him, I was a bit surprised myself, I didn’t think he would come back when he
was sent to fight in the war.
“We looked for you on the battle field” He said as he reached the tent. “And
you were nowhere to be found” He continued, looking very smug as he poured
himself a cup of wine.
“I’ve been here, ruling the Kingdoms” Joffrey said, sounding defensive.
“And what a fine job you’ve done” Tyrion said, sounding sincere but anyone with
a brain could sense the sarcasm, then his gaze shifted to Myrcella and he let
out a gasp, like he was surprised at how lovely she looked. “Look at you” He
said affectionally as he moved to kiss her cheeks, she was smiling just as much
as he was, happy to see her uncle. “More beautiful than ever” He said before
looking to Tommen. “And you! You’re going to be bigger than the Hound!” He said
earning a large smile from the boy. “But much better looking” He added, sending
a look to the hound, getting a giggle from both children.
I felt a small smile tug at my lips at the display. I may hate Cersei and
Joffrey, I may be unsure about Tyrion, and I may hate the insults constantly
hurtled at Sandor, but Myrcella and Tommen are good kids, sweet and kind
hearted. And the scene of a familial love was sweet all the same.
Tyrion looked to one of the men than had come in with him. “This one doesn’t
like me” He informed before taking a drink from his cup.
“Can’t imagine why” The man replied with unmasked sarcasm.
“We heard you were dead” Joffrey said, sounding almost disappointed that it
wasn’t true.
“I’m glad you’re not dead” Myrcelle said, glancing at her older brother.
Tyrion sent her a look that spoke of his agreement. “Me too, dear. Death is so
boring, especially now, with so much excitement in the world” He
said, slowly walking across the tent, toward Sansa.
When his eyes landed on her they took on an expression of pity. “My Lady, I’m
sorry for your loss” He said, his sincerity was refreshing.
Sansa was about to reply but Joffrey looked between them confusedly. “Her loss?
Her father was a confessed traitor” He said, looking at Tyrion like he was
stupid.
“But still her father, surely having so recently lost your own father beloved
father you can sympathize” Tyrion said, sounding like he wanted to hit the boy
king.
Joffrey was quiet for a moment before turning to Sansa, clearly expecting her
to back him up.
“My father was a traitor; my mother and brother are traitors too. I am loyal to
my beloved Joffrey” She said, having repeated it a hundred times to dozens of
different people who tried to express sympathy for her.
“Of course, you are” Tyrion said, the corner of his mouth turning upward
slightly, as if he were proud of how strong she is. Sansa looked away from him
and he downed the rest of his wine. “Well, enjoy your Name Day, your Grace.
Wish I could stay and celebrate, but there is work to be done” He
said as he walked away into the Keep.
“What work?” Joffrey asked confused as he stood once again. “Why are you here?”
He asked as we all watched a group of mountain men and Lannister solders walk
in to the Keep behind Tyrion.
The day went on and the celebrations continued well into the evening. When they
ended I found myself unable to rest, and with Sansa already in bed and getting
what little rest she could, I was unneeded and without purpose for a few hours.
I went to the kitchens and asked one of the cooks if I could have a cup of the
unfinished wine, which would be tossed out anyway. The man, who knew whom I
served, gave me a small understanding smile and allowed. I thanked him and left
with the cup.
I went to the walkways that overlooked the coast, sitting on one of the stone
benches that dotted the area. I looked out over the dark sea as I sipped from
the cup. I lost myself in my thoughts as the winds blew through my hair and
over my skin, giving me a chill that the wine quickly remedied.
I’m not sure how long I sat there before the sound of small and slow footsteps
reached my ears. I looked over and felt my heart drop into my gut, I stood
quickly, putting the glass down and curtseying low as Tyrion approached me. “My
Lord. Forgive me, they were going to throw it out and I didn’t think it would
matter if I had some” I said quickly, hoping that he didn’t tell Cersei or
Joffrey that I’d ‘stolen’ wine.
He let out a quick “Ha!” As he stopped a few feet away and turned to look at
the sea. “Who am I to get angry at someone enjoying a cup of wine?” He asked,
looking up at me with a small smirk.
I remained silent as I returned to my seat and picked the cup back up, taking a
quick sip. “Is there something I can do for you, My Lord?” I asked, confused as
to why he was even here.
“She’s a strong girl, Sansa” He said, ignoring my question, and not even
looking at me.
I nodded. “She is” I agreed, eyeing him carefully, what was he after? Did he
come to get information about Sansa from me? Did he know about the raven
scrolls that Varys was helping me send?
“I understand your mistrust in me. I am a Lannister after all” He said, sending
me another smirk.
“Is there something I can do for you, My Lord?” I asked, a bit firmer than
before, making it clear that I wasn’t going to say anything else till he made
his motives clear.
“Not at all. I just wanted to meet the handmaiden that followed Sansa all the
way from the North, and continues to take care of her despite the obvious
danger to her life” He said, now facing me.
I took another sip of wine, my eyes not leaving him for a moment. “And why is
that, My Lord?” I asked. Why would he want to meet me? I’m not important, nor
do I hold any political sway, even with my ties to Varys.
“Because if Sansa is as strong as she is, how strong must you be to be the one
that protects her” He said taking half a step toward me.
“I’m no guard. I dress her and tend to her, that’s all” I lied. I’ve not had
the chance, or occasion, to have to fight on her behalf but I would in a
heartbeat, and I would die if that’s what it took.
Tyrion smiled like he knew I was lying and I believed he did. “Of course, you
do” He said before looking back at the view. “In any case, I have something for
you” He said taking out a small pouch with a note tied to it.
He handed it to me as I set down the cup again and I read the note cautiously.
It read “Use as needed” with no signature or initial to say who it was from.
Inside the pouch I found dozens of unmarked gold coins, a few were split in
half and some halves we split as well. My brows furrowed in confusion as I
looked back at Tyrion.
“In case you change your mind about being a guard” He said, still smiling, then
he started walking away.
I stood quickly, the pouch still in hand. “Why?” I asked hastily.
He turned and walked backwards as he spoke. “Because I can” He answered, like
it was the simplest thing in the world.
I watched him go and when he left my sight I downed the rest of the wine in the
cup before I made for my room, clutching the pouch so tightly in my hand that
it crumpled the note.
I had the frame of mind to drop the cup off at the kitchen on the way, careful
to hide the pouch as I did, and when I reached my room I split the contents of
the pouch into small groups, which I wrapped in small swatches of cloth and hid
at different points in my room, even if someone found a few, they would never
find all of them.
I resolved to look for someone who could help me learn to fight in the city
next time I had the chance. Whoever I found would have to teach me under the
cover of darkness, so none of Cersei or Baelish’s spies could report it back to
them, but it would be better than nothing.
It wasn’t till after I hid all the gold that I noticed the raven scroll and the
note on my bed. I picked up the note and it read “From the North”. Varys had
stopped signing his notes weeks ago so anyone who saw it, and wasn’t supposed
to, wouldn’t know it was from him.
I picked up the scroll and opened it. It read “Y/N. We have been fighting hard
to get you and Sansa back. We’ve heard no word on where Arya is but we have men
on the lookout for her. Stay strong, and keep Sansa alive till we come for you
both – Robb”
I let out a shaky sigh as I read and reread the words on the slip of parchment.
How much more would Sansa have to go through before they came for us? I’ve been
lucky enough not to have drawn any real notice, they don’t know who I am to
her. But if, or when, they do, I’ll be as good as dead…Or worse…
I rerolled the scroll and tucked it into a hole in my ratty pillow before
burning Varys’ over a candle. I’d have to burn the scroll as well but I’d show
it
to Sansa first, she needed the encouragement right now.
I removed my dress and put on my thin, threadbare, nightgown before moving to
lay down in bed, intending to rest for the night, but then a knock came at my
door. I stood and grabbed my, equally thin and threadbare, robe, putting it on
as I approached the door.
I slowly opened the wooden barrier just enough to peek out, finding Varys on
the other side, looking as calm as ever. “My Lord. Is there something you
need?” I asked as I opened the door to let him in, pulling my robe around
myself a little tighter.
He walked in silently and waited till I’d closed the door before he spoke. “One
of my little birds saw you talking to Tyrion Lannister. What did he say?” He
asked me, his tone didn’t speak of any urgency, but I knew he was just trying
to keep from concerning me too much.
“He didn’t say much…He said that Sansa was strong, that he wanted to meet me
because I’m still here with her, then he gave me a purse of gold” I answered
quietly, ears are everywhere in the Keep, even on the other sides of doors, no
matter how thick they are.
Varys looked confused, of his down turned lips and furrowed brow was anything
to go by. “Gold? Why would he do that?” He asked, more to himself than to me.
I shook my head. “There was a note attached to it that said to use it as I
needed. I plan to buy fighting lessons with it” I explained. I had no reason to
keep that information from Varys, I had expressed the desire to learn to him
before and he understood.
“You must be careful using Lannister gold for such a thing” He warned.
“It’s unmarked. No stamps, just blank coins, half coins, and quarter coins” I
said, moving to one of the hiding spots and grabbing them to show the man.
His brows furrowed further as he looked at them. He was clearly still
struggling to understand Tyrion’s motives. “Be careful using these none-the-
less. Unmarked gold is uncommon in Kings Landing, and he may try to use it to
track you” He said, looking at one of the coins before placing it
back in my hand.
I nodded and watched as he left, telling me write another scroll for Robb as he
went. I bid him goodnight before closing, and baring, my door.
I threw my robe off and tumbled into bed gracelessly, wrapping myself with the
single blanket and letting myself fall asleep.
The next day I had intended to go looking for someone to teach me to fight, but
the news that Lannister solders were killing, seemingly random, people made me
rethink that. Something told me that they weren’t random, they always had a
reason for killing someone, whatever it may be, and I
wasn’t going to risk it by going out there and taking the chance.
I would save it for another day.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** The Night Lands *****
Chapter Summary
     Y/N find a teacher and begins her combat training. But what will
     happen when Baelish takes notice of her activities?
Chapter Notes
     There was literally no Sansa in the episode at all, so this was 100%
     me making things up and moving readers personal story line forward a
     bit. Let me know if you see any mistakes!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Over the next few days, after the Lannister solders stopped killing people, I
would go out as often as I could and ask around for someone who would teach me
to fight.
In return I got a number of propositions to teach me…Other activities, a few
orders to go fuck myself, many eyerolls, and so many people simply ignoring me
that I lost count.
I was about to end my fifth day of no luck when I was beckoned by a man to
speak with him in private. I was wary and made a point of grabbing my dagger
from its sheath discreetly before following him down an alleyway.
He lead me down many streets before taking me into a building and into a small
room, where I found Varys waiting for us.
“My Lord? What’s the meaning of this?” I asked, confused as to why he would
meet me in this manner, rather than wait till I went back to the Keep and
meeting with me like normal.
“Y/N, I heard from my little birds that you were asking around for someone to
teach you, and took it into my own hands to find someone” He said before
gesturing to the man, whom I was only just getting a good look at.
He had green eyes and short light brown hair, his skin was tanned from working
in the sun, and I could see he was well muscled through his loose shirt, he was
taller than both Varys and myself but far from being as tall as Sandor. And he
was older, around the same age as Ned was.
“Lars, Lars Waters” The man introduced himself. I noted that he had the name of
Waters, the surname of bastards in the region.
“Y/N L/N” I replied with a slight nod, still wary of this new person.
“He’s agreed to teach you what you want to know in exchange for a half coin
each lesson, which will last as long as you deem necessary” Varys explained,
looking at me.
I thought it over for a moment, I wasn’t likely to get a better deal from
anyone else. Most everyone in the city, rich or poor, would try to get as much
gold out of me as they can, and while Tyrion had given me quite a bit, there
wasn’t enough for what most would ask. And he looked like he could do the job
well enough.
I nodded. “Very well. But I require full discretion. Anything we discuss, and
the lessons themselves must be kept between us three and no one else” I
requested, looking between the two men sharply.
“Of course. Lord Varys has already payed me to keep quiet about this. I don’t
need to know why you need to fight, and I don’t care either, not my business,
not my problem” Lars said with a curt nod.
“When is the soonest we can start?” I asked, half hoping he would say that day,
but also knowing that I needed to get back to the Keep soon.
“Whenever you’re ready. Simply say the word” He answered simply.
“We’ll train every other day, starting tomorrow after dark. There’s a place by
the coast that few travel” I said, knowing the few who do go there are
the children who use that path to bring news to Varys.
“We’ll meet here and you can show me, after that we will meet there. We can
work out any other details tomorrow” He said, his tone focused and to the
point.
“I must go now. I’ll see you tomorrow” I said to Lars. “And I’ll see you as
well, Lord Varys” I said, giving a short curtsey to Varys for show.
I then left the building and made back for the Keep.
The next evening, I met Lars at the building as planned and lead him to the
place we would use to train. It was a place on the coastal path that was round
and large enough for our purposes.
He turned to face me. “Now, do you have anything in specific you want to
learn?” He asked, holding his arms behind his back, he looked like he’d been a
solder at one time. If he was as old as he looked then he probably fought in
Roberts Rebellion.
“I want to learn everything you can teach me” I answered, mimicking his stance.
I’d asked one of the stable boys to procure a pair of trousers, a shirt, and a
pair of boots for me in exchange for a half coin and whatever was left after he
paid for the clothes. So, I now stood in a loose long-sleeved shirt, with the
sleeves rolled up to my elbows, brown trousers that fit better than I was
expecting, and dingy boots that, again, fit surprisingly well.
“Then we’ll start simple. No weapons, just hands” He said moving closer. He
raised one hand with his palm facing me, looking like he was waiting for
something. “Hit my hand. As hard as you can” He ordered.
I took the stance I’d seen when watching Jon and Robb take when they would
train back in Winterfell, lower half side facing and upper half turned toward
Lars. I lifted my fists and threw one toward his hand, a sharp exhale leaving
through my nose.
He watched me for a moment after my hand retracted and he gave a little nod,
like I’d answered a question for him. “Clench your fist tighter, your fingers
were too loose, if you’d been hitting anything harder than my hand then your
fingers would have been broken, and make sure your elbows face out from your
body, you’ll have more control and a harder hit. Your stance is good but bend
your knees a bit more, put your weight on your toes, you’ll be able to move
quicker. When in your stance keep your fists up, blocking your face” He
demonstrated what he meant, taking the same stance and putting his hands up,
all I could see past them were his eyes.
I nodded, absorbing everything he said like the words of a holy text.
“Try again” He ordered, lifting his hand again.
I took the stance again and made the corrections he told me to before hitting
his hand again. This time when my knuckles met his palm he grabbed my fist and
pulling my arm around, so the inside of my elbow was facing up. My fight or
flight instincts took over as I thought he’d turned on me, so my foot
immediately flew up to kick him in the groin but his other hand grabbed my
ankle before it reached him.
“Good reaction time. You were quick to realize the threat and acted without
hesitation. And your choice of weak point was smart, if expected” He said as he
let go of my ankle and hand.
My brows furrowed, was he testing me? Seeing what I knew?
He watched me for a moment as I thought, he looked almost amused by the
confusion as I pieced together his reasoning.
“Shall we continue?” He asked, his tone taking on the amusement I saw in his
expression.
“Yes. We shall” I answered, my determination echoing quietly off the water.
The training followed that pattern till I was too tired to continue. I paid him
for that day and left for the Red Keep.
I checked on Sansa, whom was sleeping in her bed, before going back to my room.
As I approached my door I was met with the sight of a figure leaned against the
wall next to it. From where I was it was too dark to see who it was
but when I got closer I saw that it was Lord Baelish.
I knew what the weasel of a man had done when Ned tried to stop Joffrey from
being King, Verys had told me about the dagger that he’d put to Ned’s throat
when he betrayed him.
“Lord Baelish” I said when I reached the door, giving a courteous nod.
“Y/N, I was looking for you. I’ve something we should discuss” He said,
gesturing to my door.
I didn’t want to be in the same place as him, let alone in my bedroom with him
by ourselves. But I didn’t have a choice in the matter, if I said no he could
very well have me killed with one word to Cersei or Joffrey, or he could just
kill me himself, I doubt he’s above it. And whatever he had to say
could be important, it could help me get Sansa out of Kings Landing, or better
yet, it could help me kill Cersei and Joffrey for their crimes.
I nodded and opened the door, allowing him to come in before I closed it behind
him. “What did you wish to discuss?” I asked, not taking my eyes off him.
Anyone with a brain could tell that I didn’t trust him, so he knew, but it
didn’t seem to care, probably because he didn’t trust me either.
“I saw you at the coast tonight. With someone. And if I didn’t know better I’d
say you were fighting him. Care to explain?” He asked, making himself
comfortable on the edge of my bed.
“I don’t see how what I do is of any consequence to you” I replied sharply. If
he thought I tell him anything then he was well and truly mad.
He chuckled quietly. “You misunderstand. I have no desire to harm you, or
Sansa. I actually want to help her” He said, that damned smirk, that he
probably thinks makes him look trustworthy, painted across his face.
“If you want to help her then help me get her home” I answered, moving to sit
on the chair in the corner of the room.
“I wish I could. But the Queen has so many eyes on her at all times that it’s
simply impossible” He said, shaking his head slightly.
“Then tell me, Lord Baelish, how does you knowing what I was doing by the coast
help her? How does you knowing what I do in my spare time help her?” I asked,
surprising myself with how blunt I was being with a man who could have my head
on a plate if he wanted it.
“I know that you want to protect her. I know that you care about her. I
understand, I care about her as well” He said but I cut him off.
“Do you? Then why did you betray her father? Why did you hold a knife to his
throat and let the Lannister men take him?” I asked, my tone dripped venom and
my tongue was sharp as the dagger tied to my leg.
“I have my own goals, and I was simply seeing to it that they could be met” He
answered, a slight shrug pulling at his shoulder.
I rolled my eyes. “I’ve nothing to tell you. I’ll never have anything to tell
you. Now, My Lord, if you would please, I have an early morning tomorrow and
must rest” I said as I stood and went to open the door for him, praying to the
old Gods and the Seven that my rudeness didn’t come back to
bite me in the ass later.
He gave that same smile as he too stood and moved to the door. “If you change
your mind. You know where to find me” He said before leaving.
As soon as the door was closed behind him I let out a breath that I hadn’t
realized that I was holding. My heart was hammering against my ribs but felt
like it was sitting in my stomach like a rock.
I laid in bed that night for what felt like hours before I fell asleep, from
which I woke frequently, covered in sweat and gasping like I’d been running.
When morning came it was a relief.
After getting dressed, tucking the scroll into my bust so I could show it to
Sansa, and procuring an apple from the kitchen for breakfast I made for Sansa’s
bedroom.
She was still sleeping when I entered so I set about getting her clothes ready
so she could get ready for the day.
When I woke her, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.
I ran my hand over her hair as I looked down at her. “I have a surprise for
you” I said quietly.
She slowly sat up, her brows furrowed in confusion. “What is it?” She asked,
pulling her red, braided, hair over her shoulder.
I went back to the door and bared it before pulling the scroll out and handing
it to her.
I watched her expression as she watched and she smiled slightly as her eyes
grew dewy, her eyes reading the words over and over, like I had, before
returning to me.
“Thank you, Y/N…I needed to see this” She said quietly, her voice quavering
slightly.
I nodded. “Of course, Sansa” I said as I sat on the edge of her bed. “Sadly, I
have to burn it the next chance I get so the Queen doesn’t find it” I said
looking at the slip of parchment.
Sansa nodded and handed it back to me. I rerolled it and put it away before
standing and helping her get dressed.
I prayed to the Seven and the old Gods that day, more than I ever have before,
that Robb came soon.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** What is Dead May Never Die *****
Chapter Summary
     (Y/N) continues her training and a new person to keep an eye on finds
     her way into the mix of events. Will she be a friend or a foe?
Chapter Notes
     I never want to type or hear the words "Lady Zuriff" ever again. I
     had to watch that scene so many times to write it that that word is
     now to me what "moist" is to other people. Everything else about this
     chapter is basically filler, I think when they wrote the script for
     the episode they added Sansa just so they could add Shae into the mix
     and that was it. Doesn't matter, I plan to have one more chapter up
     before the end of the day, so you'll have that to look forward to.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Days passed and I went to train on every day that Lars and I had agreed on. I
was already getting better, I was able to not only throw a good punch or a good
kick, but I’d learned a few submission holds and how to use my small stature to
my advantage against larger enemies. Soon I’d be learning how to fight with a
weapon, namely a knife or dagger, per my request.
It was an evening that I didn’t have training that Cersei requested Sansa have
dinner with her and the prince and princess. I had to stay in Sansa’s room,
pacing the floor worried for what that evil lioness was saying to my little
wolf.
When Sansa returned I almost jumped out of my skin. “What happened?” I asked
quickly.
She sighed. “It was quiet mostly. Myrcella asked about the wedding…Tommen asked
if Joffrey was going to kill Robb…” She answered, her eyes were locked on her
reflection in her mirror. “I feel like I’m losing myself…” She whispered.
“I’m not going to let that happen” I said, placing my hand on her shoulder.
“I’ll get you out of here before that can happen” I said. I saw her gaze move
to mine through the refection.
It was quiet for a moment. Then a few knocks came at the door and sliced
through the silence.
“Come in” Sansa called as we both turned to face the door.
The door opened and in walked a woman. She had dark brown curly hair and light,
fair, skin. Her dress was odd and I haven’t seen any of the other women of the
Red Keep wear anything like it.
“Who are you?” Sansa asked as we both eyed her.
“I’m Shae, Mi Lady. Your new Handmaiden” She answered, looking between Sansa
and myself.
Sansa and I shared a confused look. “I didn’t know I needed a new Handmaiden.
You’re not from here” Sansa said, showing how observant she is.
“No” The woman confirmed simply.
It was quiet for a while as Shae just stared at us and us at her.
“What are you doing?” Sansa asked confusedly.
“Waiting for you to tell me what to do” Shae answered, like it was the most
obvious thing she could be doing.
I felt the corners of my mouth tug upward as a laugh bubbled up in my throat,
she was so clearly not a handmaiden that it was truly entertaining.
“I shouldn’t have to tell you to do things, you should just do them” Sansa
said, growing more confused as to why this self-proclaimed handmaiden
didn’t seem to know how to do her own job.
“What things?” Shae asked.
“Change the linens, wash my clothing, scrub the floors, empty the chamber pot,
brush my hair” Sansa said, listing the very basic jobs that a
handmaiden did.
Shae looked between Sansa and I for a moment before turning and closing the
door. She wordlessly started for the vanity and got Sansa’s hair
brush. My brows shot up at her lack of knowledge about timing and when to do
certain jobs.
“No!” Sansa said exasperatedly.
“You said to brush your hair” Shae said, just as exasperated.
“Not now!” Sansa corrected.
I’d never seen a woman look more frustrated than Shae did in the moment when
she put the brush down. She looked toward Sansa’s chamber pot
before looking at Sansa. “Your chamber pot is empty” She pointed out.
“Clean the table” Sansa ordered and we watched as she did as ordered.
I saw her slip a grape in her mouth as she picked up a plate. I let myself
crack a smile at that, I’ve done the same on more than one occasion.
“Have you ever been a Handmaiden before?” Sansa asked, already knowing that the
answer was no.
“Yes” Shae lied as she picked up wiped the table with a rag.
“For whom?” Sansa asked, meeting my eyes as we both knew she was lying.
“Lady Zuriff” Shae answered. I didn’t recognize the name, as far as I knew
there was no such person.
“Lady Zuriff?” Sansa questioned.
“Lady Zuriff” Shae repeated, getting irritated at all the questions.
“There is no Lady Zuriff in this city” Sansa said.
“She wasn’t in this city” Shae clarified.
“Well I don’t know how they did things in that city, but in this city
handmaidens wait on Ladies, not the other way around. And I don’t have time to
answer a thousand questions and teach you how to do your job” Sansa said. I
could see her eyes misting, this wasn’t about Shae not knowing how
to do her job. This was about everything else she was going through, and a new
person on top of it all.
Shae gazed at her and I could see that part of her thought that all Sansa was
is the spoilt daughter of a Lord who was just being difficult. But part of her
also saw that Sansa was going through a lot of things and was trying to process
them.
“Do you want me to leave” Shae asked, there was a sincerity in her voice that
made me think that perhaps she understood that she shouldn’t push Sansa.
Sansa was quiet for a few moments, clearly trying to compose herself. “Just
brush my hair” She ordered as she went to sit at her vanity.
Shae put the plate down and went over, grabbing the hair brush and running it
through Sansa’s red locks.
The night continued like that for a little long before I helped Sansa to bed
and both Shae and I left.
As we both stood in the hallway I grabbed her arm and pulled her to a more
secluded place.
“I don’t know who you are or who sent you. But Sansa has enough on her mind
without having to worry about you. I don’t care who sent you. But know that if
you do anything to hurt her, I’ll kill you” I said, my tone quick, quiet, and
sharp.
Shae just looked at me for a moment before speaking. “I have no interest in
hurting her. And I don’t work for anyone” She said then sighed quietly.
“I can’t tell you how I came to have this job, but I’ve never been a handmaiden
before” She confessed, rolling her eyes.
I lifted a brow and scoffed. “I know. You clearly don’t know what you’re doing”
I replied. I looked off to the side as I tried to find a remedy for the
situation. “I’ll teach you. Tomorrow morning, meet me in the kitchens and I’ll
tell you how to be a handmaiden” I said before moving to walk away,
but stopped after a few steps and looked back at her. “And my threat stands. Do
anything to hurt her, and I’ll kill you” I said before continuing on my way.
I decided to make for Varys’ office to see if he knew anything about Shae.
I knocked on the door and received a gentle “Come in” in return. I entered and
closed the door behind myself.
“Lord Varys” I greeted.
He sat behind his desk and looked up at me confusedly. “Y/N? Is there something
wrong?” He asked, I rarely visited him in his office, and I must
have looked quite worried.
“What do you know about Sansa’s new handmaiden, Shae?” I asked quickly.
Varys’ brows furrowed. “Handmaiden?” He questioned before standing. “I know of
Shae, but this is news to me” He said, coming around to the front
of his desk and leaning back on it.
“You know of her? Who is she? Can she be trusted?” I asked, my tone still fast
and worried.
Varys placed a calming hand on my shoulder. “She can be trusted, for now at
least. She has no interest in harming Sansa, she probably didn’t know anything
about her till today” He answered in his calm, almost soothing manner.
“Then who is she? I would think that we would get some warning before her
arrival…” I said, crossing my arms over my chest tightly, my discomfort was
more than obvious to anyone who bothered to look.
“She’s Lord Tyrian’s lover. My little birds have seen her going in and out of
his chambers since he returned from battle. She’s Lorathi and a prostitute by
trade, it’s no mystery how she met Lord Tyrion. She’s no one to be worried
about, though it is quite strange how she’s suddenly
Sansa’s Handmaiden” He explained.
“Good…I’ll be keeping a close eye on her regardless. I’ll be teaching her how
to be a Handmaiden, so it won’t be difficult…” I sigh, running my hand over my
face, rubbing my eyes tiredly. “And I’ll come to you with whatever I learn” I
add before turning to the door to leave.
“Before you go” He said quickly, causing me to stop and turn back to him, my
hand resting on the hand of the still closed door. “I’ve heard word that Lord
Baelish has started taking an interest in you, possibly due to your connection
to Sansa, tread carefully. He’s not to be trifled with” He
advised.
I nodded slowly. “He’s visited me once, asking for my trust and assistance in
‘protecting’ Sansa. I told him that I had no interest in his help. He didn’t
seem to believe me, but it doesn’t matter what he believes” I replied.
Varys nodded slowly. “If he comes to you again, let me know immediately” He
orders.
I gave a short nod. “Of course. And I’ll keep an eye out for his spies” I said
before opening the door any leaving.
By the time I made it back to my bedroom I was so tired that I felt like I
would fall asleep standing if I stayed still long enough. So, I changed quickly
and fell into bed unceremoniously, falling into the sweet dark embrace of sleep
far faster than I had in what felt like months.
I didn’t find myself thinking about any of my troubles till the next morning.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** Garden of Bones *****
Chapter Summary
     When Tyrion stops Joffrey from beating Sansa for her brothers war the
     Boy King decides to take it out on the next best thing: (Y/N).
Chapter Notes
     I am going to say this nice and clear for all y'all right now: READER
     GETS THE TAR BEAT OUT OF HER IN THIS CHAPTER!!! IF TORTURE OR ABUSE
     ARE TRIGGERS FOR YOU OR YOU DON'T LIKE READING ABOUT IT THEN I
     SUGGEST YOU SKIP THIS CHAPTER!!!
     I REPEAT: IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ ABOUT THE MAIN CHARACTER GETTING
     THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS BEAT OUT OF HER THEN YOU SHOULD NOT READ THIS
     CHAPTER!!! I DO NOT WANT TO SEE COMMENTS SAYING THAT I DIDN'T WARN
     YOU!!!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
LAST WARNING: READER GETS BEAT REALLY BAD IN THIS CHAPTER!!! IF THAT BOTHERS
YOU THEN SKIP THIS CHAPTER!!!
Weeks passed, and Sansa and I found ourselves watching the proceedings of
courts in the throne room, as we often did, when suddenly the guards grabbed
her and took her before the throne, forcing her to her knees, I tried to follow
but only got as far as the front of the crowd behind her before I was held back
by two guards, each holding one of my arms as I pulled against them as much as
I could. I knew with the training and the combat skills I’d learned I could
kill both of them in the time of a single breath, but I couldn’t reveal that I
was that dangerous, it would guarantee my death.
Joffrey had a crossbow trained on her as he spoke. “You’re here to answer for
your brother’s latest treasons” He said authoritatively.
Sansa’s face was red, and tears ran down her cheeks as she looked up at him,
desperation etched into her beautiful features. “Your Grace, whatever my
traitor brother has done, I had no part. You know that, please” She begged but
Joffrey didn’t let her finish.
“Ser Lancel, tell her of this outrage” Joffrey ordered.
“Using some vile sorcery, your brother fell on Stafford Lannister with an army
of wolves. Thousands of good men were butchered. After the slaughter, the
Northmen feasted on the flesh of the slain” Lancel said, clearly taking
advantage of his moment of attention.
Joffrey was silent for a moment, as if thinking over his options. “Killing you
would send your brother a message…” He mused, causing Sansa to let out a few
pitiful sobs, before he sighed. “But my mother insists on keeping you alive” He
lowered the crossbow. “Stand” He ordered with a gesture of his hand. Sansa does
as told as he sets the bow aside and sits on the throne. “So, we’ll have to
send your brother a message some other way” He said. The room is quiet for a
moment, save for the sounds of the fires crackling. “Meryn!” He said suddenly.
The disgusting man approached Sansa and I started fighting against the men
holding me even harder, I could feel the whimpers trying to fight their way up
my throat, but I forced them down, I couldn’t draw any more attention to
myself.
Before Meryn could do anything Joffrey once again spoke up. “Leave her face”
Meryn looked back at him. “I like her pretty…” He added.
If not for the fact that it was already there, my heart would have dropped into
my stomach.
Meryn grabbed her shoulder and turned her toward him. Then launched his fist
into her gut. The crowd gasped as she let out a gasped whimper,
the air forced from her body.
I let out a quiet, angered, grunt as I looked on with wide fury filled eyes,
they were only trained on Meryn for a moment before they darted up to
Joffrey, finding him looking back with slightly confused amusement before. He
looked back at Sansa as Meryn drew his sword and used the flat part
to smack the back of Sansa’s thigh. He was sheathing it when Joffrey spoke.
“Meryn, My Lady’s overdressed….Unburden her” He ordered as he stood and walked
to the end of the stage that the throne sat upon.
Meryn didn’t hesitate to walk behind Sansa and rip the back of her dress wide
open. She whimpered and covered herself with her hands and what was left of her
sleeves on her arms.
“If you want Robb Stark to hear us, we’re going to have to speak louder!”
Joffrey said as Meryn redrew his sword and was about to strike Sansa with it.
“What’s the meaning of this?!” Called a voice from the other end of the room.
Everyone froze, and the crowd split as Lord Tyrion walked in, quickly
approaching Sansa. “What kind of Knight beats a helpless girl?” He spat,
glaring at Meryn.
“The kind who serves his King, Imp” Meryn spat back.
“Careful now. We don’t wanna get blood all over your pretty white cloke” Lord
Tyrion’s friend, who’s name I learned was Bronn.
“Someone get the girl something to cover herself with” Tyrion ordered as he
slowly climbed the stairs before the throne. “She is to be your Queen.
Have you no regard for her honor?” Tyrion asked, glaring up at his nephew.
Sandor wordlessly left his place by the throne and went to Sansa, pulling his
cloke from his back and draping it over her shoulders.
At that moment I realized that he’s not so cruel…Sure he was ordered to do so
but he didn’t seem to mind doing it. He looked like he’d wanted to.
“I’m punishing her!” Joffrey defended.
“For what crimes? She did not fight her brothers battles you halfwit” Tyrion
retorted.
“You can’t talk to me like that! The King can do as he likes!” Joffrey shouted
before walking back to the throne.
“The Mad King did as he liked. Has your uncle Jamie ever told you what happened
to him?” Tyrion asked rhetorically.
“No one threatens His Grace in the presents of the King Guard!” Meryn said,
placing his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“I’m not threatening the King, Ser, I am educating my nephew” Tyrion replied
before turning his head slightly. “Bronn, next time Ser Meryn speaks,
kill him” He ordered before looking at Meryn. “That was a threat. See the
difference?” He asked, tone full of angered snark.
Everyone was quiet as Tyrion approached Sansa, his eyes flitting to me for a
moment before going back to her. He offered his hand to her and she, albeit
hesitantly, accepted his assistance and took his hand as she slowly stood,
Joffrey noisily stood from the throne in anger but didn’t say anything. Once
she was on her feet he turned to me. “Release her” He ordered of the guards
holding me. They obeyed and let go, I didn’t hesitate to rush to her side,
pulling Sandor’s cloke tighter around her.
“I apologize for my nephew’s behavior” Tyrion said quietly as we walked out, a
few other Handmaidens, who served the Keep at large joining us.
“Tell me the truth, do you want an end to this engagement?” He asked. I
wondered if he knew that the engagement was the only thing keeping
Joffrey from torturing her further.
“I am loyal to King Joffrey, my one true love” She answered, a strong air of
dignity about her.
He stopped as we left the room, but I could still hear him. “Lady Stark…You may
survive us yet…”
I shooed the other Handmaidens away before we even reached her chambers,
telling them that she was overwhelmed and didn’t need all of us,
adding on that since she knew me better I should be the one to stay and tend to
her. They accepted with minimal resistance, they were clearly
happy to get out of working for a while.
As soon as Sansa and I entered her room I bared the door and turned to her, my
arms wrapped so tight around her that I half worried she couldn’t breath, but
the sobs that fell from her lips told me otherwise.
“I’m so sorry, Sansa…I’m so, so sorry…” I whispered as I stood there holding
the girl. “I should have done something…I should have helped you…” I said, my
gaze was over her shoulder, but not locked onto anything, unfocused and still
filled with rage.
“They would have killed you…I’d rather go through that again than lose you…”
She said through her tears.
I let go of her and placed my hands on her wet cheeks, making her look me in
the eye. “I’ll kill them all before I see that happen again. I swear it. My
life is forfeit, it doesn’t matter. But yours? Yours is worth more than all the
gold the Lannister’s boast. If it means that you get to go home, I’ll die” I
said, no uncertainty or questioning to be found in my face or voice. I let go
of her face and looked her over. “Let’s get you redressed then…” I said quietly
as I removed Sandor’s cloke from her shoulders, soon followed by her ruined
dress, she had a large blue-purple bruise on her belly that was clearly sore,
and a long, thin, shallow cut surrounded by bruising on the back of her right
thigh.
I helped her get dressed and resting in her bed. I sat next to her as she went
back and forth between reading one of her books and falling asleep,
my eyes locked on the cloke sitting folded on the table. The events replayed in
my head over and over. What I could have done differently, how I could have
kept it from happening…Ultimately, I concluded that there was nothing I could
have done to change what happened.
She didn’t settle enough to stay asleep till that evening, and when she did I
left to take the cloke back to Sandor.
I got three steps out the door before I realized that I didn’t know where his
chambers were. Luckily a guard was situated not far down the hall, I knew that
he worked for Joffrey, but he could still tell me where to go. So, I approached
him and asked.
“The Hound’s chambers are in the western tower” Was the answer I received. I
gave a quick ‘thank you’ before walking away.
The sun was halfway hidden when I reached the thick wooden door that separated
Sandor’s room from the rest of the Keep.
I raised a fist to knock but found myself hesitating. Did I really want to see
him? What if I catch him at a bad time?
I didn’t have time to ponder those questions because I heard a voice behind me
speak.
“There a reason you’re at my door?” It was gruff, deep, it sent a shiver down
my spine.
I turned to be met with the sight of Sandor, still in his armor, still with his
sword on his hip.
“I was just returning this” I said holding up the bundle in my arms.
A crooked smirk found Sandor’s lips as he scoffed a chuckle. “Shouldn’t you be
tending to your Lady?” He asked as he took a few steps forward. I moved to the
side, so he could go to his door, and watched as he opened it and stooped low
to enter.
“She’s sleeping” I answered, staying outside of the room. I wasn’t going to
enter without his permission.
He grunted in response and started removing his armor, revealing the off-white
shirt and brown trousers underneath. It wasn’t till he had all the metal off
that he realized that I was still standing there. “Are you going to come in or
just stand in the door all night?” He asked, fully facing me.
I’d known that he was muscular, but without the armor I had a better idea of
just how muscular. His shirt must have been huge to hang as loosely on his
frame as it did.
I nodded and walked into his room, stopping to stand only a couple feet away
from the door. “What do you want me to do with this?” I asked, holding up the
bundled cloke.
He looked at me and was silent for a moment before walking toward me. I didn’t
take my eyes off him as the memory of the kiss we’d shared ran through my mind.
I felt my face get warm when he took the fabric from my hands, his rough
fingers brushing mine. He stood less than a foot away as he looked down at me,
had I been any taller he’d be looking at our, still closely positioned, hands.
But as my eyes locked on his and I found that, somehow, even after all the
times I’ve looked into his eyes, I never noticed their warm brown coloring. I
was always so intent on seeing the emotions in them that I never took the
chance admire the sunflower seed brown that had been looking down at me.
Neither of us seemed to know what to say as we stood there silently looking at
each other. I wanted to ask him why he’d kissed me. What had that expression he
wore afterward been? I had so many questions to ask him, but they all died in
my throat as I looked up at him.
Soon the eye contact seemed to be too much for him as he averted his gaze and
stepped back a couple paces, I felt a pang of disappointment but didn’t show it
as I watched him set his cloke on the small wooden table next to the small
window.
“Was that all you wanted?” He didn’t look at me as he spoke, but I nodded
anyway.
“Yes…I’ll be taking my leave now” I said before turning and leaving the room. I
could feel his eyes on my back as I walked away.
I went back to Sansa’s room to check on her before making my way back to my
own. What I was met with made my heart jump into my throat and drop to my feet
all at once.
There, right at my door, stood two Lannister guardsmen who seemed to be waiting
for me. When I reached them they both turned to me. “His Grace wishes to see
you in his chambers” One said before grabbing my arm and leaning me away while
the other followed.
I felt dread fill my chest as we walked, was it about when our eyes met in
court? Was he going to kill me? Torture me? Rape me? He was King, and he could
get away with it, especially with me.
When the door was within sight we saw it open and out walked two women who I
could tell were whores. Well, one of them was walking, the other was being
carried by another guard. They both looked like they’d just been put through
Hell and I couldn’t tell if the one was just unconscious or if
she was dead. I don’t know which would have been more to her benefit.
We reached the still open door and I saw King Joffrey standing by the window,
staring out at the view that I couldn’t make out from this side of the room.
“Your Grace. The Handmaiden you wished to speak see” The guard holding my arm
spoke.
Joffrey turned and looked at me with the most unimpressed expression I’d ever
seen grace a person’s face.
“Leave us” He ordered the guards with a wave of his hand as he slowly sauntered
toward me.
“Is there something I can do for you, You Grace?” I asked, fully intending to
give him whatever it was he wanted if it got me away from him sooner.
“You’re close to Sansa yes?” He asked, pouring himself a cup of wine.
“I’m her Handmaiden, if that’s what you mean” I answered. I didn’t want to
admit to having any kind of relationship to beyond that.
“Your reaction to her punishment in court today made it seem like more than
that” He said, leaning back against the table where the pitcher had
been with the cup in hand, taking a drink from it after speaking.
“I am charged with taking care of her and her needs…I was…worried” I answered,
looking down at the toes of his boots, his feet were crossed at the ankle.
Joffrey hummed as he stood straight and set the cup down and strolled toward
me. “I think it was more than that. I know you traveled here with her from
Winterfell. I saw you tending to her there, and I saw you sitting together at
the feast the day we’d arrived. I think you two are close friends, and
care deeply for each other” He said as he came closer and closer to me, only
stopping when there were little more than a few inches between us. As
a servant I wasn’t allowed to meet his eyes, but he was too close for me to
look at his boots again, so I settled for locking my eyes on his chest.
He knew that she and I are close. He knew that I wanted to protect her. He saw
the fight in my eyes when we looked at each other in court. He was going to
kill me to torment Sansa.
“I have a feeling that if I did anything to you, it would hurt Sansa much more
than what I did today, and I never got to finish punishing her for her
brother’s treasons” He said before slowly starting to walk around me, looking
me up and down. “Perhaps I should give you the rest of her
punishment and let her see what happens when people cross me” He mused as he
stopped in front of me once more.
My thoughts flitted to the dagger on my calve, I could stoop, grab it and have
it buried in his neck before he even knew what hit him. Then I could escape out
the window, everyone would know it was me, but I’d be long gone before they
could catch me, I could go back to Winterfell and work to get Sansa home there,
with Robb, Catelyn, and Theon.
My path of thought is interrupted by a sudden force colliding with my gut,
knocking the wind out me, much like what had happened to Sansa earlier that
day. I managed to stay on my feet better than she had as I looked up at
Joffrey, he was holding some kind of club, which he’d clearly just hit me with.
He looked at the end of the club with mild interest before looking down at me.
“Filthy bitch, you should know better than to look upon your betters!” He
yelled before cracking me over the head with the club.
My head pounded, and the room spun as I fell to my knees. I saw the club fall
to the ground before I took what felt like a foot to my cheek, sending me fully
to the floor, then the same foot launched itself into my gut, hit the same spot
from before almost dead on, causing me to instinctively curl in on myself, a
whimper leaving my lips. “I’ve seen how you look at my Hound. Maybe I should
give you a matching scar…I wonder if your Lady would still love you if I made
you a monster, Gods know I can’t make her one” He mused as he walked around me
before launching another kick into my back, making me arc forward away from the
pain.
I felt his fist grab the front of my dress and lift my to my knees before his
other fist collided with my mouth, making me bite my lip hard enough to fill my
mouth with blood, which immediately started leaking down my chin as I coughed.
Another fist met my face before he dropped me and went back toward the table,
picking up his cup of wine and taking a drink from it as he gazed down at the
table, at what I couldn’t tell, till he picked it up that is.
The blade gleaned in the fire light as he inspected it. It was little more than
a dinner knife, sharp enough to cut meat but nothing special beyond that. His
gaze moved from the knife to me and a wicked smirk spread over his face. “Let’s
give my Hound a Bitch worthy of him” He said as he started toward me.
Once more grabbing the front of my dress he hoisted me to my knees, so I was
balanced enough that he wasn’t holding me up like before as he drug the blade
lightly over my skin, a contemplative expression taking over his features, like
he was trying to decide what to do.
Then the blade dug into my flesh at my hairline over my right eye, I let out a
drawn-out sound that was somewhere between a squeak and a grunt of pain as he
dragged it down, around my eye, and to my jawline. The blood poured down my
face, I could feel it drip down onto my chest, staining my dress red. He pulled
the blade back and looked at his work before bringing it back to my cheek and
digging it back into the soft skin, dragging horizontally till it crossed the
first one and almost met the corner of my mouth, causing a sound closer to a
shriek to echo in the room as my vision faded in and out. But I forced myself
to stay awake. I forced myself to look up at the boy who saw it fit to mutilate
me for no reason other than his boredom and stare him in the eye, so he could
see all the hatred and intent to kill that now marred my own. He dropped the
blade and me to the floor carelessly before landing one more kick to my gut, a
low grunt followed by a few wheezing coughs forced out of me.
He panted as he walked toward the door and opened it, calling in a guard. “Take
her to a Maester. I want her to live, I want her to serve as a living torment
for My Lady” He ordered as the guard came and picked me up.
My vision continued to go in and out as I was carried to my room and placed on
my bed, soon seeing an older man over me with a chain around his neck. “Shae…I-
I have to s-speak to S-Shae…” I rasped as I pushed his hands away from me
weakly. He seemed to get that I wasn’t going to let him
do anything till he brought her to me, and he sent for her.
When she arrived, Bronn was trailing behind her, probably sent by Tyrion to not
only keep an eye on her but to find out what had happened. He winced when he
saw me and gave a pitying look as he stayed by the door, ushering the Maester
out for a moment so “The ladies can talk” as he put it.
Shae rushed to my side and sat on the edge of the bed. “(Y/N)…What happened?”
She asked quietly.
I coughed, a stream of blood ran out the corner of my mouth. “Joffrey…” I
answered before shaking my head slowly. “D-doesn’t mat-tter…K-Keep an eye on S-
Sansa w-while I heal…D-don’t let B-Baelish g-get close to her…T-tell Lord V-
Verys wh-what happened...” I begged, grasping her soft hand desperately, my
vision blurry as I fought to stay awake.
She nodded. “I will” She promised before standing to let the Maester back in.
The first thing the man did was give me Milk of the Poppy, so I would sleep.
And sleep I did.
For three weeks.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** The Ghost of Harrenhal *****
Chapter Summary
     (Y/N) awaken in the aftermath of Joffrey's torture, will it change
     her relationship with Sansa? Will it effect the budding feelings
     between her and Sandor? Will it change who she is as a person?
Chapter Notes
     Short chapter because there's no Sansa in this episode and my
     creative reserves are still a little tapped out after the last
     chapter. But there's more to come, I might be able to finish the
     second season before the end of the year but we'll just have to see
     what happens.
     EDIT: I added a bit to the end of reader training with Lars because I
     felt like the chapter needed it.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Over the course of my three week slumber I did occasionally wake, to eat or
take more Milk of the Poppy, before going back to sleep for a few more days,
only to repeat the process all over again.
At various times when I woke I would be met with Sansa sitting at my bedside
with tears in her eyes, or Shae coming to check on me for Sansa.
Once I was visited by Tyrion, who spoke to me, but it didn’t reach me through
the haze that sat over my mind. Another time it was Verys, who told
me that he’d passed the news to Lars that I wouldn’t be at training for a
while.
When I woke for good I woke to the sight of a Keep Handmaiden looking down at
me with a mix of apathy and pity, which turned into just pity when she saw I
was awake.
“Good to see you’re awake. Maester said you would soon, said you didn’t need to
stay asleep anymore. But if you need more Milk of the Poppy for the pain to let
him know. You don’t need the bindings anymore, but it’ll still hurt for a
while” She listed before helping me sit up in the bed.
“How long has it been?” I asked quietly as I felt the cloth on my face and
winced, pulling my hand away quickly.
“Three weeks is what I heard” She answered as she picked up a small hand mirror
and set it on the side of the bed. “Do you want help getting those off?” She
asked, to which I nodded, and she sat forward on her seat and reached out to
help me peal the cloth from my face.
Because of the sticky salves and the natural secretions of a wound the cloth
stuck to the cuts like tar and pulled painfully as we pealed it off. I grunted
in pain with each gentle tug till my face was free, the air felt like it did in
Winterfell against my face now that there was nothing covering it.
I didn’t hesitate to scoop up the mirror and lift it, but my eyes clenched.
There was the sound of footsteps as the other Handmaiden stood and went to the
door before leaving, giving me my privacy.
I took on a shaky breath and let it out before opening my eyes looking at
myself. I choked whimper punched out of me as I took in the damage done to my
face. My jaw was bruised a sickly yellow and I had a cut on the right side of
my lower lip that was mostly healed but would obviously leave a scar, there was
a small cut that sliced through my right eyebrow that was scarring as well, I
could only assume that it was caused by one of Joffrey’s rings. But what caused
me to break down in tears that stung my face and only caused me to cry harder
was the long jagged half-healed scar that ran down the right side of my face,
and the crosshatch that segmented it. When he’d said he would make me a
monster, he’d been truthful, and he’d succeeded.
I brought a slow, shaky, hand up to graze the puckered pink flesh along the
line of my cheek, only to pull it back sharply a second later.
I dropped the mirror back down onto the mattress of my bed as I started to
shake, sobs and cries leaving me as my eyes stared into space, pain and rage
filling me before I let out a scream, my fists gripping the blanket covering my
lap so tightly that my knuckles turned white.
I lost track of time after a while but eventually I managed to pull myself from
my bed and strip my sleeping dress off. I looked down at myself and saw the
same sickly yellow bruises marring my stomach and I could feel the one on my
back, everything ached. I put on a clean dress and brushed my hair, which had
been left to hang while I slept, which meant that it was a tangled mess. Once
my hair was brushed I brought it over to the right side of my head, using the
natural waves to cover the scars before braiding it loosely and letting it sit
on my shoulder.
I made myself stand straight before exiting my room. It looked like it was only
noon, so that meant I had to go to Sansa.
The walk to her room was a long one, filled with doubts about how she’d react
to seeing me without bindings covering my wounds.
When I reached her room, I knocked and waited for her voice to tell me to come
in. Upon opening the door, I found her sitting on the bench by the
window with a book in hand, but she was looking at me. She sprang from her seat
and darted to me, wrapping her arms around me tight, which caused me to wince
and make her loosen. “I’m so happy you’re okay” She said after taking a step
back to look me over.
“Takes more than…That to kill me” I managed with a small half smile. She gave
me a pitying smile and nodded.
Her hand came up slowly to brush my hair out of the way, so she could see my
face, her fingertips brushed the tender skin and I flinched, but she continued
to tuck the hair out of the way. With it all on display she gasped quietly, and
I couldn’t bring myself to meet her eyes. “Is it that bad?” I asked, though I
knew it was.
“It looks like it hurts…” She said, moving like she was going to touch me again
but stopped herself, I would have let her, she wouldn’t hurt me like he had.
I nodded. “Like a son of a Whore. But I can handle it…I’m sorry you have to see
me like this” I said, shifting on my feet uncomfortably. I wanted to cry again,
I wanted to scream again, I wanted to gut Joffrey and feed him to the ravens.
Sansa’s gentle hand came up to tilt my chin up, so I had to look at her. “I’m
just thankful that you’re alive…” She whispered, her Tully blue eyes
watering.
I wrapped her up in my arms and let myself cry again as she held me, much I
have before. “I’ll kill him…I swear…I’ll kill him with my own two hands…For
both of us” I seethed through my tears.
The door opening caused us to pull away quickly to be met with the sight of
Shae closing it behind her. “Good to see you on your feet” She said, not even
making a face when she looked at mine. “How do you feel?” She asked, sounding
genuinely curious.
“Well enough to help tend to our Lady” I answered my gaze shifting to Sansa. At
this point I had no doubt that Shae knew how much I cared about Sansa, nor did
I doubt that I could trust her to some degree. But for appearances sake, I
would keep to formal terms when she’s around.
That day went on as most others would. Shae and I tended to Sansa, though
neither of them would let be do much, they were both worried that I’d push
myself too hard and make myself worse if I wasn’t careful. But what they didn’t
know was that I needed to push myself, I needed to carry that large tray of
food, I needed to turn down Sansa’s bed on my own. I needed everything to go
back to the way it was. I needed to take care of Sansa, for my own sanity.
When evening came I was dismissed and asked, with no small amount of persuasion
on Sansa’s part, to go rest in my room till the next day. I, being forever
unable to deny the redhaired girl, did as asked and went straight to my room.
When I got there, I was met with Verys sitting on the chair still positioned at
my bedside.
“Lord Verys. I was planning to come see you soon, I need to know what I missed
while I was sleeping” I said after closing the door.
The bald man stood and turned to face me, looking over my face openly and
showing the slightest amount of pity. “I’m happy to see you alive and, mostly,
well. I’d ask how you’re feeling but you’ve probably been asked that a number
of times today and, well, no use beating a dead horse.
Please, sit and I’ll fill you in on everything you missed” He said, gesturing
to my bed before sitting back down on the chair.
I sat on the edge of my bed slowly, my stomach and back protesting harshly to
the movement, but the pain quieted once I was settled. I looked at Verys and
waited for him to speak patiently.
“Lord Renly is dead. Some say Brienne of Tarth did it, others say that it was
something else, something darker” He started, and a quiet sigh left me.
“What do you mean by ‘something darker’?” I asked with furrowed brows.
“Some rumors speculate that Stannis had a woman called the Red Witch kill him,
a priestess of The Lord of Light, a faith that has shown to be quite dangerous
if the whispers that have reached me are to be believed” He explained.
“What does this mean for Sansa and I?” I asked, nothing else mattered.
Verys sighed. “It means one less ally for Robb and Lady Stark to make, which
means it may take longer for them to come for you” He answered. My heart fell
at that, but I couldn’t let myself despair. Sansa needed me, I had to stay
strong, no matter what.
“Anything else?” I asked quietly, rubbing my eyes tiredly.
“Lady Stark returned to Robb with Brienne of Tarth. After Renly’s death they
both fled. Robb continues to win battles, but it is a slow war that the council
fears will extend into winter. And I have this, it came a day ago, it’s from
Robb. I’ve kept it on me and safe since its arrival” He said pulling a raven
scroll from within his sleeve and handing it to me.
I took it and unrolled it quickly. “(Y/N), I received word from your ally of
your injuries at the hands of Joffrey. We continue to fight to get you and
Sansa home, but it is slow going and many men are losing hope. But I would
storm the Red Keep alone if it meant I’d get you two back. Stay strong and keep
her safe. Robb” It read, and another sigh fell from my lips.
“Is that all?” I asked, ready to sleep for another three weeks.
“I took the liberty of informing Lars that you would be returning for training
the day after tomorrow. I’ll leave you to rest” He said before standing and
walking to the door, but he stopped and turned back to me. “I am truly happy
that you are alive, (Y/N)” He said.
I nodded. “So am I” I answered quietly before he left.
I changed into my sleep dress and laid in bed staring at the walls for so long
I lost track of time.
My body still ached, and my chest clenched every time I felt the scars on my
face tug or pull.
I fell asleep wondering if, by the end of this war, I would even recognize
myself.
The next day went by just as the one before it and soon I found myself at the
meeting spot with Lars.
I hadn’t hesitated to tie my hair back completely, putting my mostly scarred
wounds on full display. Lars made a face but didn’t comment on it as he threw
me a practice sword and started at me with his own.
He lunged at me, going high, and I blocked with my own sword before moving to
strike him low, while his mind was still on its previous move, but I
mispredicted what he was going to do and took his sword to the upper back.
“Close, try again” He ordered.
I hissed at the sting but nodded and did as told. This time I stuck first,
swinging my sword around, aiming for his shoulder, but he was quick to dodge
and hit me in the calf. I growled as I circled him slowly. “Don’t get angry,
focus!” He ordered sharply.
I lunged forward, and he blocked with his blade before pushing me back and
hitting me in the side. I groaned, and he was clearly getting irritated with
me. “You’re better than this! I know you are, I’ve seen it! Again!” He ordered
once again before swinging it me, aiming for my unmarred cheek.
I blocked with my sword and shoved him away before planting a hard kick to the
middle of his chest, sending him to the ground in an ungraceful sprawl. He
coughed a couple times as he sat up, a smile uncharacteristic of someone who
just their ass handed to them on his face. “Better. Now, do it again” He said
as he got up and we continued.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** The Old Gods and The New *****
Chapter Summary
     An attack on the royal family and Sansa leaves Reader with more
     resolve to protect Sansa. And a conversation with Sandor leaves her
     more sure of her feelings.
     TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter has mentions of attempted rape, and
     cannon typical violence, if either of those bother you I suggest not
     reading!
Chapter Notes
     I'm not dead! I just got wicked busy over the holidays and wicked bad
     writers block right along with it. Now for this chapter y'all ALMOST
     got two pages of Sandor/Reader smut, but I decided now isn't the time
     in the series to do that, so I'm gonna just leave y'all with some
     feels and call it a night (It's 4:00 am as I writ this).
     This chapter was really hard for me to write thought because of the
     attack seen, namely the one where Sansa was almost raped, because
     when I write scenes I watch them over and over to get the lines and
     what-not right, so I had to watch that scene well over 10 times and
     it was as far from fun as it gets.
     Side-note! As of this chapter Reader is 18! I don't have anything
     against underage (within reason) but I'm already playing with some
     major Older man/Younger woman stuff, so I'd like to keep it simple.
     Also, get used to the mild/medium Shae bashing and such. I've always
     hated her and I can't really help but show it here since Reader's
     personality is based mostly off my own.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Weeks passed, and my wounds closed, leaving only puckered pink scars in their
wake.
The bruises faded quickly, and I was finally able to sleep without discomfort,
though the pulling of the tight flesh of the scars that adorned me would take
quite a bit of getting used to.
I had yet to see Sandor since I received the beating and I found myself
dreading the very thought. I knew he wasn’t the kind of man to suddenly turn
his back on me for a few ugly scars, but the worry of how he would react still
lingered.
It was the day of Princess Myrcella’s departure for Dorne.
Sansa and I stood with the Royal Family at the coast as she was ferried to the
ship she would be leaving on, I found myself feeling truly sorry for the girl,
she may have Lannister blood but she’s a good child, better than her mother and
far better than her father, the living one and the dead one.
I noticed when we’d gotten there that Sandor was with Joffrey as he always was
and when I came to stand behind Sansa his eyes met mine. I had my hair covering
my face like it had been when I’d first gone to see Sansa afterward. So, I knew
he couldn’t see the scars, save for the one that marred my lip, but his gaze
was so intense that it felt like he could see through the hair.
I watched Prince Tommen cry as his sister was taken from him for a moment
before my attention was drawn to Joffrey.
He stood in front of Sansa looking far from interested in what was happening.
“Sounds like a little cat mewling for his mother. Princes don’t cry” He
scoffed, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I saw you cry” Sansa said quietly, looking at him with her intense eyes.
“Did you say something My Lady?” He asked, dropping his arms and turning to
face her.
“My little brother cried when I left Winterfell” She corrected, knowing where
her previous statement would get her.
“So?” He asked, clearly not quite understanding what she was saying.
“It seems a normal thing” She stated simply.
“Is your little brother a prince?” He asked sharply.
‘Depends on who you ask’ I found myself thinking as I watched the scene unfold
before me.
“No” She answered.
“Not really relevant then is it?” He asked rhetorically before walking away.
I shared a look with Sansa as he called Sandor to follow him.
On the way back to the Keep we were walking through the streets with a large
accompaniment of guards, but I’d never felt less safe in my life. We made a
turn down a particular street and were met with a man shouting from a balcony
above us.
“Hail Joffrey! Hail to the King!” He laughed loudly. Something about it didn’t
sit right in my gut. “Seven Blessings on you, Your Grace!” He shouted as other
started to join in, they were all sarcastic and full of malicious intent.
Then they started saying that was a Bastard born of incest and that he
shouldn’t be on the Iron Throne, they started shouting about how they’re hungry
and begging him for food.
I saw Tyrion turn and say something to the guards behind him before they
ushered Prince Tommen away. I felt my heart drop to my toes as they took
another path back to the Keep.
Then, suddenly, someone threw a wad of shit at Joffrey’s head, and hit. He made
that whimpering sound that I remember hearing when Tyrion had hit him in
Winterfell all those months ago.
The Fool King started spouting about how he wanted the man who threw it brought
to him and killed as the people started swarming.
I took Sansa’s hand as we watched this unfold and Tyrion started ordering us to
move. The guards ushered Cersei back to the Keep and Sandor grabbed Joffrey and
started dragging him after.
I tried to lead Sansa to follow them, but I lost hold of her hand and was being
pushed by the crowd and guards to keep going.
“Sansa! Sansa!” I shrieked for her as I looked around desperately for her but
had lost sight.
In a blur of movements and noise I was back within the Keep.
I turned every which way looking for her, screaming her name desperately.
“Oh, you blind bloody fool!” Tyrion shouted at Joffrey.
“You can’t insult me!” Joffrey growled.
“We’ve had vicious Kings and we’ve had idiot Kings! But I don’t know we’ve ever
been cursed with a vicious idiot for a King!” Tyrion shouted as he approached
his nephew.
“You can’t!” Joffrey tried to argue.
“I can, I am!” Tyrion retorted.
“They attacked me!” Joffrey defended.
“They threw a cow pie at you, so you decide to kill them all! They’re starving
you fool! All because of a war you started!” Tyrion said, getting into
Joffrey’s shit covered face.
“YOU’RE TALKING TO A KING!” Joffrey screamed furiously only to be met with an
open palm to the face.
“And now I have struck a King! Did my hand fall from my wrist?” He asked before
turning from his nephew and looking around. “Where is the Stark girl?” He asked
a guard who didn’t answer.
“Let them have her!” Joffrey ordered.
“If she dies you’ll never get your uncle Jamie back! You owe him quite a bit
you know!” Tyrion replied before turning to Meryn Trant. “Take some men and go
and find the Stark girl” He ordered.
“I take my orders from the King!” The disgusting man replied. Tyrion looked
back at Joffrey, but the little shit just got up and walked away.
The Tyrion turned to me, finally noticing my frantic search for the girl I’d
sworn to protect. “(Y/N)! Did you see where she went?” He asked walking up to
my frantic form.
“I had her hand but then I lost her. I think I saw which way she went” I said
before my eyes met Sandor’s. I didn’t say anything as I pushed my way back out
into the streets and went in search of her, Sandor following behind me
silently.
I heard the sound of her whimpers and the shouting of men around a corner and
my pace sped till I was sprinting toward them.
I rounded the corner and was met with a group of five men attempting to rape
Sansa. In one fluid motion as I ran I stooped to grab my dagger and spun, using
the momentum I sent it flying through the air to lodge in one if the men’s head
as Sandor picked up the one undoing his trousers by
his neck and gutted him before grabbing another and stabbing him in the back of
the neck. Another tried to run away but Sandor caught him and slit his throat.
I took my dagger from the man’s head and went to the last. I didn’t hesitate as
I slit his throat too.
I turned and saw Sandor picking up Sansa. “Alright now, Little Bird. You’re
alright” He said in a gentle tone that I’d never heard him use before. He threw
her over his shoulder and we walked back to the Keep in silence, I’d only just
barely remembered to put my dagger away before we got back.
When we returned he set her down against a pillar and the other Handmaidens
swarmed, but I shooed them off quickly.
“Are you hurt, My Lady?” Tyrion asked worriedly, to which Sansa replied with a
shake of her head.
“Little Bird’s bleeding, someone take her back to her cage. See to that cut”
Sandor ordered as Shae and I helped her stand. I met Sandor’s eyes once
more.
“Well done, Clegane” Tyrion thanked.
“I didn’t do it for you” He replied, still looking at me, before walking away.
Shae and I rushed Sansa back to her room and helped her get changed. It was so
quiet in there after all the shouting.
“Let me see your face, Sansa” I said tilting her chin, so I could see the small
cut on her eyebrow.
“Shae, bring the wash basin and a clean rag” I requested as I gentle started
undoing her hair, which had become a mess during the events of the day.
Shae put the large bowl of water on the table next to me and a small stack of
rags next to it. I immediately grabbed one and started cleaning the
blood from her face. “Sansa? Can you hear me?” I asked quietly, trying to get
her to look at me. But she wouldn’t, she just kept staring into space.
I sighed and looked to Shae. “Can you have a bath drawn for her please, Shae?”
I asked quietly before looking back to my poor Little Wolf.
Shae nodded and left to do as I asked.
I ran a brush through Sansa’s hair slowly before helping her undress and put on
a bathrobe.
Shae returned soon after and we silently escorted her to the bath before
helping her clean up. Afterwards we took her back to her room and helped her
into her sleep dress.
I was making her a plate of food as Shae wiped a bit of blood from her cut when
Sansa made the first sound I’d heard from her since we got her back to her
room. A quiet ‘ow.’
Shae shushed her quietly before pulling the rag from her face. “It’s not deep”
She said.
“I thought they were going to kill me” Sansa said, her voice shaking.
“They thought so too” Shae answered as she moved back to the wash basin to
rinse the rag.
“He hated me, the man who hit me…I saw it in his eyes. Hated me. He never met
me before but…He wanted to hurt me…” She said, confusion clear in her voice.
“Of course, he did” Shae replied simply, and I scoffed quietly.
“Tact Shae…Tact” I muttered as I came to stand next to Sansa’s seat.
“Why? Why would a stranger?” She asked.
“You are everything he will never have” Shae said as I started to braid Sansa’s
wet hair. “Your horse eats better than his children. It doesn’t matter
now, he’s dead” She finished.
“I would have given them bread if I had it. I hate the King more than any of
them!” She said, and Shae and I rushed to silence her.
“Don’t say these thing, if the wrong people hear you” Shae scolded.
“But you’re not the wrong people” Sansa retorted.
Shae walked back to the table and put the rag down. “Don’t trust anybody. Life
is safer that way” Shae said, and I met Sansa’s eyes and shook my head,
silently telling her to disregard the dark-haired woman’s words.
“I can handle everything from here, Shae. Have a nice night” I said, not
leaving any room for argument.
Shae huffed and nodded before leaning as I turned to Sansa. “Don’t listen to
her. She’s never had someone she can trust like you and I. She is right about
those men though. They hated you because they could never be you. Don’t let it
get to you, or it will drive you mad” I said before helping her into bed. “Do
you want me to stay till you fall asleep?” I asked as I ran my fingers through
the loose hairs on her forehead. She nodded, and I stayed.
Once she was asleep I took my leave and made my way back to my room, only to be
met with the sight of a fully armored Sandor leaned against my door.
I didn’t hesitate to approach him and stopped when we were a few inches away
from each other. “Of all the people to appear at my door, you’re the first not
to carry a feeling a dread with them” I said quietly.
Sandor didn’t say anything as he stood straight and opened the door, waiting
for me to enter before closing and baring the door.
If I were anyone else, I would be scared to be alone in a bedchamber with the
Hound. I’d be terrified. But all I felt was peace.
He approached me and stopped at the same distance I had before lifting his hand
to brush my hair away from my face, giving him his first clear view of the
scars that mar my skin. “A Bitch worthy of the Hound” I said, repeating the
words Joffrey had said to me weeks ago.
Sandor’s brows furrowed as he looked down at me. “What?” He asked confusedly,
his hand not moving from where it holds my hair.
“That’s what he said…Before he started cutting me. He said he’d seen how I look
at you, that he’d make me a Bitch worthy of his Hound” I explained quietly, my
expression unaffected.
Sandor sighed and dropped my hair, letting it fall back to where it had been,
though I didn’t let it stay there long before I brushed it behind my ear.
“The little cunt doesn’t know what kind of Hell he’s released on himself” He
said. I knew he wasn’t talking about himself. He was talking about me.
“I can see it in your eyes, you wanted him dead before, for what he’s done to
the Little Bird, but now you want him to suffer. I can respect that” He said
with a slow nod.
“All I want is to take Sansa home. Nothing else matters to me” I said. It
wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. And I knew that he knew
that.
“Lies are unfitting of a woman like you” He said, taking half a step forward,
closing the last of the space between us, my skirts now brush against his legs,
and all he would have to do is flinch his hands for them to be touching me. His
closeness sent my stomach stirring in a way that I was
wholly unfamiliar with.
“It’s not a lie…As much as I want to see Joffrey’s head on a spike and his
innards fed to dogs, I have bigger concerns” I said, slowly starting to breathe
a little heavier. I’d never been this close to a man without the intent to kill
or while being at training. I could smell him, it was a heady smell of alcohol,
sweat, and a hint of blood, but there was something else under it, something
musky that drew me in. It reminded me of home, the scent of the trees in the
Godswood, baking bread and cooking meat in the kitchen. “Why did you come
here?” I asked quietly, my eyes still locked on his.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” He asked. There was something in his
tone. A quiet growl that wasn’t normally there, it sent a shiver running down
my back.
“We all have our secrets, Sandor Clegane. Why did you really come here?” I
repeated, I had a feeling I knew at this point what he wanted, but I needed to
hear him say it.
He sighed quietly, irritation echoing within the sound, as he looked up at the
ceiling before looking back down at me. “I don’t bother with the pussy shite
that other men do. I don’t talk about feelings like a woman. But when I saw
your face, when I saw you fight, when I saw you kill. I felt like I’d always
been told I would when I fell in love. I don’t believe in love, it’s all shite
that men like Ned Stark turn to when they feel bad for killing” He ranted, an
uncomprehending anger etched into his face, like the sensations of his feelings
confused him. “So, why is it that my chest gets tight when I look at you? Why
is it that the ground tries fall out from under me at the thought of you in
pain?” He asked before going quiet for a moment. “Why do I love you?” He asked,
sounding more like he was begging for an answer.
I didn’t have one for him.
I was too in shock at the fact that he’d just told me he loved me.
For a moment all I could do was stare at him. “Because the Gods have a terrible
sense of humor” I said quietly. “And, apparently, so do I…” I said as I raised
my hand and placed it on his burnt cheek.
His eyes slowly closed, as if my touch was soothing a stinging pain he’d
suffered from for many years. It was at that moment that I figured it out.
The look he’d given me when we’d first kissed, he hadn’t understood the
feelings he’d been experiencing.
His eyes opened again and neither of us spoke before our lips met again, it was
the same as the first time. There was no clashing of our teeth or slow lean in.
Just like the first time, it was me trying not to go too slow for him, and him
trying not to go too fast for me.
His gloved hands gripped my waist tight, like he feared I would fly away if he
didn’t, while my own hands threaded up into his hair, pulling him closer.
Eventually the need to breath forced us to part. As we panted for breath he
looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. I wanted to
invite him into my bed, ask him to ravish me like I’d been told all my life
that men do. I wanted to beg him to fuck me till he did. But the words didn’t
feel right, it wasn’t their time yet, if ever.
Sandor seemed to see these thoughts in my face as he nodded understandingly and
pressed him lips to mine once more before taking a step back and turning to
leave.
Without him the room suddenly felt very cold, and the stirrings in my stomach
began to disappear as I stood there looking at the closed door.
I soon shook my head and started to prepare to go to bed, knowing that I would
be having dreams of him that night.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** A Man Without Honor *****
Chapter Summary
     With Sansa's flowering the very real, and now possible, concept of
     her marriage to Joffrey looms.
     TRIGGER WARNING: There's some mention of suicidal thoughts in this
     chapter, if that bothers you please do not read.
Chapter Notes
     This episode may have had a big plot point for Sansa in it but it
     over all didn't have many scenes with her, so a good deal of this is
     filler.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Days passed, and Sansa was plagued by nightmares and visions of her attack, she
would wake screaming and shaking with fear. She told me of an attempt to thank
Sandor and how she was met with contempt; it didn’t surprise me, he may not
want her dead, but he doesn’t exactly like her either. She went on for an hour
about how hateful he was and how he’d all but threatened her, which caused me
more than a little alarm, but when she said that he’d told her that she’d be
thankful for the hateful things he did when she’s Queen and he’s all that
stands between her and Joffrey. I was quick to correct her, telling her that it
wasn’t a threat, just grim honesty.
“You won’t find much of it in Kings Landing, so you should heed it when you do”
I’d said before going to get her lunch.
Everything continued like that for a few more days before it all got turned
upside down again.
It was early morning and I was on my way to Sansa’s room, meeting Shae a long
the way, and we had just reached her room to find her kneeling on her bed with
a dinner knife in hand and blood on her sleep dress as she whimpered in panic.
All at once I felt my heart pound so hard in my chest that it hurt, but also
drop into my feet as my stomach lodged itself in my throat. Shae and I shared
wide eyed looks, we both knew what needed to be done as he both came to stand
on either side of her bed.
Shae wrapped a gentle hand around Sansa’s wrist. “It’s alright. Give me that”
She said taking the knife from Sansa’s hand.
“If the Queen sees, I can have Joffrey’s children now…” Sansa whimpered
desperately.
Shae looked to me and I shook my head, this was bad. “We’ll take care of it” I
said as I helped Sansa off the bed.
She thought for a before looking at both of us. “Help me flip it over” She
ordered, and Sansa and I took handfuls of the bed and started trying to lift
it.
Then, because the Gods enjoy tormenting us, one of the palace handmaidens
walked in. They all know that Shae and I take care of Sansa and we don’t need
their help, nor do we want it, so why she was there I can’t fathom.
The woman looked between the bloodstain on the bed, Sansa, me, and Shae before
turning and walking out. Shae, Sansa, and I shared looks before I chased after
her.
I followed her down the stairs. “Where are you going?” I asked, trying to sound
more curious than concerned.
“To tell Her Grace” The woman informed me.
I grabbed my dagger, then I grabbed her and pushed her against the wall with
the blade to her throat. “You’ll say nothing, to anyone. Do you understand?” I
asked dangerously. She nodded as best she could with a knife to her throat and
I let her go, watching her run away for a moment.
I ran back to Sansa’s room to find Sansa and Shae sitting on the bench at the
foot of the bed, Sansa was crying, and Shae looked more than worried. But what
made my heart meet my stomach in my throat was what had them both so scared.
Behind them, looking down at the bloodstain, was Sandor.
I straightened my posture and sighed. I knew he would tell the Queen, he had no
choice. I wanted to be angry, I wanted to hate him for the fact that he was
going to something that could, and most likely would, do harm to Sansa. But I
found that I couldn’t. I know that he truly didn’t have a choice in the matter,
free will had been in
short supply all his life, and now was no different.
Cersei summoned Sansa to her chambers after she’d cleaned up, I had to teach
her how to use a cloth to catch the blood in her smallclothes, as Catelyn
hadn’t
thought she would flower so young and hadn’t been able to teach her herself.
I wasn’t allowed in the room with her, and neither was Shae. I had no doubt
that Sandor would leave out the part where we tried to hide it, so I was far
from concerned about that.
I waited on one of the garden terraces, expecting to be left alone with my
thoughts as few came out here unless it was a special occasion.
It was these moments of solitude, when the only company I had was the wind
blowing through my hair and the sounds of the ocean a hundred feet below, that
made the encroaching darkness that flouted in my mind force its way to the
forefront. Thoughts of running away for my own safety.
Thoughts of worse things.
Things that would put me in a rather bad light with The Seven. Things that
would not only leave Sansa all alone but would ruin her in a way that might
just be worse than anything Joffrey could ever do to her…But I found myself so
tired…Tired enough for the very idea to even find me in the night when sleep
was shallow and more of way to pass the time than for rest, which was most
nights.
I possessed no desire to die, but when everything around you looks and feels as
dark as it did...You think of doing a lot of things you don’t really want to
do…
I was close to truly losing myself to these thoughts when I was startled from
them.
“Threatening maids…Not the person I thought you were” I heard a voice behind me
say, it wasn’t Sandor, I knew that much. I turned and looked to find Tyrion
standing there alone.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, My Lord” I lied, my tone icy.
“Of course not. The penalty for trying to hide Lady Starks flowering is death.
Then again most penalties anymore are…” He said as he slowly came to stand next
to me.
I turned my back to him before I spoke next. “Was there something you needed,
My Lord?” I could feel my hands shaking, whether it was because of the thoughts
of
Sansa marrying Joffrey flying through my mind or something else I couldn’t be
sure, but I clenched them around each other all the same as I tried to keep my
composure.
“No. But when I heard of Lady Starks flowering and a handmaiden whimpering
about a ‘crazy Northerner’ I figured I should see if there was anything you
knew of it”
He said as he came to stand next to me.
“Shae and I were the first to find her this morning. And who knows how many
Northerners there are in Kingslanding, it must have been one of them” I
answered shortly, not exactly in the mood to speak with a Lannister, no matter
how helpful he’d been up to this point.
“Must have…Where is Lady Stark? Surly you didn’t leave your post at her side”
He said, looking up at me curiously. If there was one thing I could say about
Tyrion Lannister, it was that he had quite the thirst for knowledge, and not
just from books, knowledge about everything, and everyone.
“The Queen Mother wished to speak to her privately. I am waiting for them to be
finished” I answered simply, what harm could it possibly do for him to know
that Sansa was with his sister?
I saw him nod out the corner of my eye. “You must enjoy these moments alone,
when your Lady doesn’t require you” He said of handedly as his gaze shifted
from me to the view before us.
I wanted to tell him it was the exact opposite, that I hated these moments, not
just because of the evil my mind conjured for itself, but because of how far
from the only thing that matters to me is, how little I can do to protect it in
the end.
But what came out instead was. “I care about Lady Stark, I would be content if
I never had time alone” It came out so much lighter than I felt. My chest was
tight with worry, my hands were clammy, and my nails were digging into my palms
painfully. I felt the need to run back to Sansa’s chambers to see if she was
back, there was a desperation that filled my whole being that I could do
nothing about.
Tyrion’s only response was a contemplative hum.
It was silent for a while before I heard my voice asking him a question that
had been nagging at me for weeks. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you give me that gold?” I had turned my head to look down at him.
“Because I could” Was what he said, but there was something in his voice,
something in his face, that told me it went so much deeper than that.
“I don’t think I thanked you…” I murmured, looking down at the small space
between us.
He turned to look at him. “No need. I don’t wish to know how you use it. I
honestly don’t care. Something about you makes me think that you will, and have
been, using it for something worthy” He said before giving me one of those
little half smiles that are more of a sad little tick than a true smile.
Neither of us said anything else before he turned and walked away just as Shae
was approaching, I saw them look at each other and I saw their expressions for
what they were.
“She is back in her room” Shae informed me. I wasted no time in making my way
there.
When we arrived, I asked Sansa what Cersei said and she explained that all they
really talked about was what would happen when she had Joffrey’s children.
I’m not sure why, but at that moment I remembered a moment that happened months
ago, though it felt like years, when I asked her if she still wanted to marry
Joffrey, after he had attacked Arya and injured the Bakers boy, Mycah, just
before they’d killed Lady. Then the answer had been unclear to her. Now all one
needed to
do was look at her to see it. She wanted nothing to do with the boy king.
“They can’t wed you to him yet…There are too many other things happening right
now for them to even think about it right now” I assured as Shae and I went
about preparing her midday meal.
I only hoped I was assuring her of the truth…
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** The Prince of Winterfell *****
Chapter Summary
     A new experience further ties (Y/N) to Sandor as Kingslanding
     prepares for battle.
Chapter Notes
     Remember that two pages of Sandor/Reader Smut that I chose not to
     post because it wasn't time? Well I edited it into about five pages
     and decided it was time. I regret nothing, though I must warn you,
     I'm not good at writing smut, so if this is bad, I'm sorry...
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Over the next few weeks every able-bodied man was working to bolster the city
walls for the arrival of Stannis Baratheon’s siege.
Over the course of that time I met with Lars every day, rather than every other
day. With the encroaching need for the skills he was teaching me, I decided I
needed to expedite the lessons. As it was I was learning very quickly, I had a
natural talent for fighting as it turned out.
The meeting place was one of the only three places I found myself often enough
to be noteworthy during that time, the other to being with Sansa, and meeting
with Varys so he could keep me privy to everything that could threaten Sansa’s
safety.
It was during one of my lessons that Lars pointed out something that I
remembered Arya mentioning when she would come from her ‘Dancing lessons.’
“You look more like your dancing with your weapon than fighting with it” The
man said with a slightly chuckle, like something about that fact entertained
him.
My brows furrowed in confusion and I looked down at the short sword in my hand.
“Is…That bad?” I asked, worried that I would have to work on correcting an
established habit.
He laughed quietly and shook his head. “Not at all. Some will tell you it is,
but there are whole fighting styles based off the art of dance, mostly from
faraway places, men here look at dancing and think it a thing for women and
girls. What they don’t see is how dangerous it can be when used to it fullest
potential” He explained before beckoning me to him with a gesture.
Usually when he did that it meant he was going to correct my posture or how I
was holding my weapon. This time when he stood behind me, feet and arms in the
same positioning with his hand holding my wrist, he lead my hand through slowly
graceful movements that moved the blade through the air, it reminded me of a
Highborn Lady’s skirts when she spun, watching the sliver metal move in the
moon light.
“Work with the weight of the blade, not against it…It’ll make your movements
more fluid and easier to transition between, and it can make it easier to come
back after taking a hit…Assuming you don’t die first that is” He said quietly
as he moved my hand to twist and move the blade. It felt like it was part of my
arm, not just a thing I
was holding.
He took a few steps back from me and watched as I continued doing what he’d
been leaning me through. “You have a talent for this, had you been a Highborn
Lady, you’d have been known for your dancing skills” He noted.
“Hardly…I have two left feet…And I can’t keep a rhythm…” I scoffed before
ending the almost-dance with a low swish.
“I think that’s enough for tonight. Are we meeting again tomorrow?” He asked as
he packed up the things he’d brought to teach me that night.
I nodded as I handed him back the short sword. “Yes, I expect to meet every
night till we can no longer get down here” I answered as I used a scrap of
cloth to wipe the sweat from my brow.
“Good. I will see you then” He said before walking away.
I watched him go and when he was out of sight I turned and looked out at the
moon reflecting off the strangely calm water. No one would disturb me here, no
one knew where here was but me, Lars, and Varys. But I’ve learned that being
alone like this can be dangerous, especially when one’s worst enemy is
themselves.
I turned from the water and made my way back into the palace. With Sansa
already in bed I had nowhere I needed to be, nothing I needed to do.
So, I just walked.
I let my feet carry me where they wanted me to go.
This lead me all over the palace, through the gardens, past the kitchens,
through various hallways, and finally up a familiar tower. Though I’d only been
there once
before, I found myself strangely comfortable there, like it was where I was
meant to be, though, I suppose, in the end, it was.
My hand had rapped lightly on the wooden door before I realized what I was
doing, if it was even something I’d wanted to do.
Did I really want to see him? Did I really want to speak to him?
The door opened to reveal an armor-less Sandor, looking like he was about to
tell off whoever was at his door so long after dark, but when his eyes landed
on me, they softened, and his frown lifted slightly. Any doubt of wanting to
see him disappeared as my eyes met his.
“(Y/N)…” He murmured quietly. The sound of his voice saying my name made my
chest both swell and feel tight.
“Sandor…” I breathed in response. His eyes closed as he let out an exhale, like
hearing me say his name had the same effect.
“What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night” He questioned in his
gruff manner.
I could only look up at him with wide eyes as I slowly shook my head, why was I
there? What was I looking for?
He leaned through the door a bit and looked around before taking a step back
and opening the door wider, beckoning me in wordlessly.
My movements were not my own as I entered his room for the second time.
“I…My mind is a mess…I don’t know what to say, or do, or think…I don’t know why
I came here…Nothing makes sense…” I rambled, my voice growing quiet as I spoke.
Sandor’s expression looked as close worry as I’d ever seen it as he came closer
to me, only a few inches of space between us.
My eyes remained locked on his chest for a moment before I realized why I went
to him. “Help me escape my own mind…I need to get out of my head and focus on
something…Please, Sandor…Help me…” I begged, my voice quiet and pleading.
His brows furrowed as he comprehended what I was asking for. “Do you even know
what you’re asking? I’m not a gentle man” He warned, his voice a low rasp that
only made me surer in my desire.
I knew he was full of shit, and even if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t have minded, I
knew what I was getting into when I told him I loved him.
“I don’t care…” I whispered as I pulled him down into a kiss that bordered on
bruising, my hands cradled his cheeks as I begged him to give me what I needed.
His hands met my waist tightly as he pulled me to him, seemingly just as
desperate for me as I was for him.
A moment later his grip on me tightened a bit more and he lifted me off the
floor. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his hips, feeling the forming
hardness in his trousers press against me, as he walked toward the small table
in the corner of the room and set me down on it.
His hands slipped down to pull my shirt from where it was tucked into my
trousers as his lips continued to ravish my own.
My hands threaded up into his hair as I tried to pull him ever closer to me.
We parted as he yanked my shirt over my head and threw it behind himself. The
only thing that was under the shirt were the makeshift wrappings that I used to
keep my breasts from getting in the way during training. Sandor looked at the
wrappings with a kind of confusion that I couldn’t help but find amusing as I
reached back to pull them loose before unwrapping them slowly.
Now in the cool open air, my breasts came to peaks that had his eyes darkening
as he positioned himself between my thighs and claimed my lips once more. I
could feel his excitement press against my heat through our trousers and it
pulled a moan from my lips as I hooked my legs around his to pull him closer.
My hands tugged desperately at his shirt as I kissed him, and he was quick to
throw it from himself. I looked at his body, I knew he was muscular, but the
hair caught me off guard a little, the only times I’d seen shirtless males were
when I was very small, before they thought it needed to separate the girls and
boys to bathe. My gaze was intense, and I could tell it made him uncomfortable,
but when my eyes returned to his I felt the corners of my lips turn upward
before I pulled him back down to me.
Then he decided it was time for my trousers to meet the floor and I felt his
hands move down to unlace them and tug them down, my boots getting caught and
slipping off with them in a tangled mess. I looked up at him with a lifted brow
as if to ask, ‘was that necessary?’ but he just smirked back at me before
lifting me again and moving to the bed.
I would have been embarrassed or shy about my nudity if not for the fact that
he wasn’t really looking at me, and I’d always had a confidence in myself that
many others lacked or looked to outsiders for. And the thought of him seeing me
didn’t leave me with that stir of shame that I’d always been told I should feel
by Septas when I became old enough to feel attraction of any sort, instead it
gave me a feeling of nervousness at what he might think of me, would he find me
as physically attractive as I find him? But also, a giddy feeling. It was a
conflicting sensation, but I’d felt worse.
He sat on the edge of his bed with me on his lap, my knees pressing into the
bed on either side of his legs, as he lavished my neck with bites and kisses,
quiet sighs and whimpers falling from my open mouth as I clung to him with a
desperation I’d never felt before.
I was prepared for him to fuck me like a whore. I was prepared for him to be
rough and uncaring. But what I wasn’t prepared for was the sound of his deep,
rolling, voice asking me a question that sounded so utterly unlike anything I
could have ever imagined coming out of his mouth.
“Have you ever been with a man before?” He’d asked against the skin between my
neck and shoulder.
I felt my face become even hotter than it had been before as I slowly shook my
head, a breathy “No…” all I was able to answer with as I continued to cling to
him, hoping that my answer wouldn’t make him change his mind and tell me to
leave.
He made a low growling sound somewhere between his chest and his throat and I
could swear that I’d heard him mutter something to effect of “Mine.” Which,
even as just a figment of my imagination, was enough to send shivers down my
spine.
He’d been gripping my hips tight as he lavished attention on my neck but then
one of them released its hold and drifted down to the apex of my thighs, where
he ran his callused fingertips over my dripping heat, slow and gentle, like he
was caressing the petals of a flower blossom. It pulled a sigh from my kiss
swollen lips and had my hips pressing against his hand, silently asking for
more, which he seemed happy to give, if the extra pressure his fingertips
exerted was anything to go by.
His lips drifted over my jawline and down my neck, stopping to gently nip or
bite, only hard enough to leave a red mark that would be gone by the morning,
till they reached my breasts. He nuzzled into the space between them, inhaling
so deeply that I wondered what I smelled like to him. After he seemed to have
breathed his fill for the moment he turned to my right breast, brushing his
lips over the peak before his tongue traced where his lips had, pulling a quiet
gasp from me that quickly turned into a moan when he began to suck.
Moments later his fingertips ceased their caresses and were replaced by a
single fingertip pressing into me, slow and tentative, as he was scared he
would hurt me if he moved too fast. The sensation was foreign and odd, but at
the same time it sent my already fast heart thundering and caused tingling heat
to blossom over my skin. At some point my eyes had closed as I’d tried to
understand all the sensations I was experiencing, and it seemed to heighten all
of them, but I needed to see him, to look at him.
So, I did, and what I found was as close to a look of reverence as I’d ever
seen on his face, like I was a Goddess in the flesh. I brought my hands up to
hold his cheeks softly as I gazed back at him, meeting his eyes without
hesitation, just as I always have.
He pressed that one fingertip in till it reached the second knuckle as he
slowly began to move it, pressing here and there like he was looking for
something. Then a harsh shiver of pleasure darted through my body, like all the
things he’d been doing wrapped into one amazing sensation. My head fell back as
a gasped moan of his name left me. He took the chance to lavish my neck with
attention as he teased that one amazing spot within me, soon adding a second
finger, there was an uncomfortable stretching sensation, but as slow as he was
moving it was hardly noticeable.
What was noticeable, however, was his manhood pressed against my thigh through
his trousers.
I decided to take pity on him, though I was almost too distracted to do much
else than moan and shiver over him, and wrapped my hand around his wrist,
asking him to stop. His expression, though lustful, took on a worried note as
he pulled his hand from between my thighs.
“My turn…” I breathed as my hands, which looked so small compared to his,
lowered to untie the laces of his trousers just enough for one to slip into and
wrap around his hot flesh. I could feel him pulse against my palm, hot and
heavy, as he let out a low grunt that sounded pleased. My gaze was locked on
his face as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, like I had a moment
before. My movements were slow and hesitant as I trailed my hand up and down,
silently marveling for a moment at the sheer girth of him, and surprising
softness of the skin itself.
I continued my ministrations till he had his own hand wrapped around my wrist,
forcing me to stop. I met his eyes and found them half lidden and clouded with
lust,
yet so clear. I must have looked confused because the next thing I heard was
his deep rolling voice saying. “I’m planning to fuck you…And I can’t if you
keep that up…”
The words, though simple, sent a wave of heat through my body that had muscles
between my legs clenching in anticipation.
The only response I gave was a nod and he moved his hands down to cradle my ass
before he lifted me, just enough to turn us and lay me on my back on the bed,
my hair, which had fallen loose from it braid, splayed out around my head.
After my back met the fabric he stood straight and looked down at me in all my
nakedness, even with his eyes directly on me, taking in every mark and curve, I
felt no fear, no shame, only lust, passion, and a deep craving that I hadn’t
felt before.
I gazed back up at him, watching him as he took in my form, then his eyes met
mine once more, neither of us flinching away from each other at the unhindered
sight of our scars. Now that I was able to truly see him, I could see the scars
that littered his chest and arms from battles he’s fought, though some looked
much older, almost invisible in the low light of the candles place about the
room, I didn’t need to ask to know that those were received when he was a
child.
He held my gaze for a moment longer before stooping to remove his boots. Once
those were kicked under the bed he stood over me again and moved his hand to
the top of his trousers, he hesitated for a moment, looking at the space
between his feet and the bed like he was thinking deeply about something.
I sat and placed a gentle hand over his as I looked up at him, hoping that my
expression was reassuring about my desire to see him…Feel him.
I silently beckoned him to move his hands and he obeyed without hesitation,
letting his hand fall to his sides. My eyes didn’t leave his as I unlaced his
trousers the rest of the way and slowly pushed them down till they fell freely
to the floor. In my peripheral vision I could see his manhood standing hard and
proud, but I knew that if I looked directly at it, I would be too intimidated
to continue as I so wished.
So, I moved up the bed slowly and laid back against the straw filled pillows,
my knees raised a bit to show him every part of myself, trying to look
enticing, though if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, I already did.
From there I could see him as a whole, every curve and ridge of his body, every
scar and bruise, everything that made up Sandor Clegane was right there before
me. And I loved every bit of it.
I lifted my hand to beckon him to me and he knelt on the bed before crawling
closer, till he was hovering over me, looking at me with the same intensity
that I
possessed just moments before.
His lips met mine much slower and more passionately than all our previous
kisses had been, his hand resting on my bare hip, so warm and rough, and so
gentle, the very thing he said he wasn’t. My arms wrapped around his neck,
pulling his closer as he slotted between my thighs, fitting so perfectly it was
like he was made to be
there.
Our kiss broke as we both remembered that we needed to breath, his expression
asked the question he couldn’t bring himself to voice, was I sure about this?
In response I nodded and rested back against the pillows.
He shifted, and I watched his free hand disappear between us, followed by the
feeling of his cockhead meeting my womanhood.
Oh, so slowly he pushed in, taking his time for both our sakes, his eyes never
leaving my face. The stretch of his fingers was nothing compared to the stretch
I was feeling then, at moments it bordered on painful, but he would stop moving
before it became too much.
Once he was fully seated in me he held still as I got used to the sensations
that were coursing through my body like a hurricane. It was like he was a cup
of cold water after weeks in the dry deserts of the Essos.
But soon the need for more was all I could feel, and my hips began to move
against him, causing a sound like a gasp and a moan to fall from his lips as he
bucked against me slightly, making a similar sound leave me.
His name fell from my lips like a prayer as he started a slow, but no less
hard, rhythm. His hands gripped my hips so tight that I knew they would leave
bruises, but I didn’t care, I wanted his marks on my skin, I wanted to wake up
and see the evidence of what we’d done.
With each thrust there was the sound of his animalistic grunts and low moans,
my whimpers of his name and high cries for more, which he was happy to obey,
and his thighs slapping into the backs of mine.
Soon I felt pressure begin to build in my gut, light a spring coiled too tight
and getting tighter, I felt the muscles in my thighs begin to shake and my
breathing grew faster as the pressure built and built.
“Sandor…Sandor…Please…More…” I whimpered against the skin between his shoulder
and neck as my nails ran down his back.
His thrusts became impossibly harder as he rasped my name, like it was the only
thing keeping him from going mad, I could feel his nails dig into my hips, but
the pain was dulled to almost nonexistence by everything else I felt.
Eventually, almost too soon, the coil in my belly snapped and I was over come
with wave after wave of pleasure as my vision went white for a moment, my head
thrown back into the pillows as a cry left my lips that was probably far too
loud, if the soreness I felt in my throat later was anything to go by, my eyes
clenched shut as my whole body went rigid. Sandor went still a second later but
continued to roll his hips as the pleasure ebbed away.
My body went slack as we both panted against each other’s skin, hot puffs of
air that left tingles in their wake.
Sandor rolled both of us to our sides, his manhood slipping free as we went,
leaving me feeling almost uncomfortably empty. I was keenly aware of the mess
that was slowly slipping from between my thighs, but I didn’t care as I wrapped
my arms around him and tucked my head under his chin.
Sandor went still in my arms, and I felt my heart thump painfully in my chest,
was he about to tell me to leave? He’d told me he loved me but what if that was
just an attempted to get me to let him bed me?
Then his muscular arms wrapped around me and I felt the breath I hadn’t
realized I was holding leave me.
“I love you…” I breathed against his chest. I wasn’t expecting him to say it
back, I didn’t need him to.
His only response was the tightening of his hold on me.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** Blackwater *****
Chapter Summary
     The Battle of Blackwater Bay, and everything that comes with it.
Chapter Notes
     I gave you smut, now I give you angst! I cried writing this, so
     please don't think me one of those writers that enjoys breaking my
     readers hearts, I'm really not.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The day after my night of Passion with Sandor I woke in his bed, half on top of
him and his arms wrapped around me. There was a silent comfort as we both got
dressed, we didn’t need words to know that neither of us regretted the night
before.
After leaving his room I went to Varys’ office, I needed to remedy to ensure
that I wouldn’t become pregnant, the last thing I needed to think about was an
infant, I wasn’t even sure I ever wanted to have children.
I was surprised to find that the secretive eunuch already had a bottle of the
very remedy I needed waiting on his desk, when I asked why he would need
something like that he gave me a knowing smile and explained that he knew what
I’d been up to the night before with Sandor and figured I wouldn’t want to go
to the perverted old Maester for it.
Red-faced I insisted on giving him some gold to thank him for helping me, even
though he didn’t have to. After he explained how to use it I returned to my
room to take a dose and change into a dress before going to Sansa’s room.
It was during the walk to her room that I finally noticed the soreness between
my legs and from the bruises on my hips, I would be lying if I didn’t say I
liked it, it was uncomfortable, but it reminded me that I hadn’t dreamt it.
Sansa quickly noticed my discomfort and asked what had happened, quickly
jumping to the conclusion that Joffrey had hurt me again, but I laid that to
rest and told her what had happened, though I was reluctant. She was more than
surprised that I’d not only spent the night with a man but with Sandor of all
people. Shae didn’t anything but didn’t hide her worry, I wanted to tell her to
worry for herself, she was, after all, the secret lover of a Lannister.
Soon the day of Stannis Baratheon’s siege came. I was sitting in Sansa’s room
with her when the warning bells began to ring, telling us that Stannis’ ships
had been spotted. I felt my heart jump into my throat.
Sans looked at me fearfully. “What do we do?” She asked quietly, her voice
quivering.
“We’re going to stay right here till they tell us where to go, they won’t leave
you out in the open. And if Stannis wins, and is smart, we’ll have nothing to
worry about” I said as I wrapped my arms around her.
Soon Shae came and stayed with us, soon followed by a Lannister soldier who
told us that Joffrey had ordered Sansa to the throne room to see him off.
The torches and braziers were lit, and people were running about getting ready
for the battle to come, it left me with a sick feeling in my stomach, but I hid
it for fear of worrying Sansa.
Once we were there we were approached by Tyrion. “Lady Sansa, (Y/N), and
uh…Shaela” He said pretending not to know Shae’s real name, clever man.
“Shae” She corrected, looking down at him with an air of irritation.
“Shae, yes. Surely my sister has asked you to join her and the other Highborn
Ladies in Maegor’s Holdfast?” He asked, sounding confused as to why she wasn’t
already there.
“She has, My Lord, but King Joffrey sent for me to see him off” Sansa explained
before we heard the doors to the council chambers open.
“Sansa!” The King called as he approached, Sandor and a few other Kings guard
following behind him.
“He’s always been a great romantic, my nephew” Tyrion said as he watched
Joffrey’s approach with us.
“Sansa, come here!” The boy ordered.
Sansa went to obey but turned back to Tyrion. “I will pray for your safe
return, My Lord” She said in her earnest manner.
“Will you?” Tyrion asked, clearly confused as to why a Lannister captive would
pray for a Lannister.
“Just as I pray for the Kings” She answered before turning to Joffrey.
I stayed back with Shae and heard Tyrion tell her to stay safe, calling her his
Lady, and she returned the sentiment, calling him her lion. After Tyrion had
walked away with his Squire I sent her an understanding look, no matter how
much I may not trust her or dislike her, I understood worry for a lover.
Our attention turned back to Sansa and Joffrey as they spoke. “Your King rides
forth to battle. You should see him off with a kiss” He said as he drew his
sword and held it out between them. “My new blade, Heart-Eater I’ve named it”
He explained. Sansa looked confused at him for a moment before he spoke again.
“Kiss it” He ordered, looking much too smug.
Sansa hesitated for only a second before bending down and pressing her lips to
the blade, I half feared he would take the chance to slash at her and hurt her,
but he didn’t.
“You’ll kiss it again when I return. And taste my uncles blood” He said as he
sheathed it, I fought a gag at the mental image.
“Will you slay him yourself?” Sansa asked, sounding more confident than I’d
heard her sound in weeks.
Joffrey looked confused as he spoke. “If Stannis is fool enough to come near
me” He answered as he shifted on his feet.
“So, you’ll be outside the gates fighting with the Vanguard?” She asked, a
subtle smirk at the corners of her lips that one would only notice if they knew
her as well as I did.
“A King doesn’t discuss battle plans with stupid girls” He snapped irritably.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace, you’re right, I’m stupid” She said with a roll of her
eyes. “Of course, you’ll be in the Vanguard. They say my brother, Robb, always
goes where
the fighting is thickest, and he’s only a pretender” She said, that slight
smirk widening a little. I fought a smirk of my own as I realized her game,
attempting to
undermine his confidence to fight.
“Your brothers turn will come, and you can lick his blood off Heart-Eater too”
Joffrey said, his voice as close to a growl as it would ever get, before
walking away with his guards following.
As they passed I locked eyes with Sandor, ordering him to come back with a
look. He lowered his head only slightly in response and we both looked away.
Sansa returned to where Shae and I stood as we watched them leave. “Some of
those boys will never come back” Shae said quietly.
“Joffrey will…The worst ones always live” Sansa said, the confidence she’d had
a moment before gone.
I shushed her, and Shae and I escorted her to the Holdfast.
The Holdfast was small and crowded with women, there were tables and bunkbeds
scattered throughout the room.
The last to enter was Cersei and Tommen, I felt bad for the boy, he must have
been very scared.
Cersei almost looked like she was expecting to fight, if the breastplate she
wore was anything to go by, I wanted to scoff, she was far too much of a coward
to fight.
“I don’t know why she wants me here…She’s always saying how stupid I am, she
hates me” Sansa whispered to Shae and I as Cersei sat at a table and her
handmaiden
poured her a cup of wine.
“Maybe she hates you less than she hates everyone else?” Shae suggested, I
wanted to say that it was because they needed Sansa, but I knew better.
“I doubt it” Sansa said in reply.
“Maybe she’s jealous of you?” Shae tried.
“Why would she be jealous?” Sansa asked, her voice lowered even more than it
had been.
“Sansa?” Cersei called from her place across the room. Sansa stood and went to
her. “I was wondering where our Little Dove had flown” The Queen said, that
same smug look she’d had when she killed Lady on her face. “You look pale
child, is your red flower still blooming?” She asked.
“Yes” Sansa answered quickly, she’d confided in me that she didn’t like talking
about it, whether it was because of the shock of the morning it started or
because she was embarrassed I don’t know.
“Fitting isn’t it? The men will bleed out there and you’ll bleed in here”
Cersei said before grabbing the extra cup from the table and holding out to her
handmaiden.
“I’m not thirsty, Your Grace” Sansa tried to decline.
“So? I didn’t offer you water” She retorted as she handed the full cup to
Sansa.
Shae and I shared a look, I didn’t like the idea of Sansa drinking while so
much danger surrounded us.
Sansa looked to the side of the room and I followed her gaze, Ser Ilyn stood
there, silent as ever. “What’s he doing here?” She asked, I don’t blame her for
her hatred of the man, he was, after all, the one to carried out Joffrey’s
sentencing on her father.
“Ser Ilyn? He’s here to defend us” Cersei answered, but I could tell it was a
lie. “When the axes smash down those door, you may be glad to have him” She
continued.
“But we have guards to defend us” Sansa countered quietly.
“Guards we have paid. Should the city fall, they’ll be the first ones out of
the doors” She explained before taking a drink from her cup.
Just then the door opened, and a man came in. He stood before Cersei and bowed
before speaking.
“The lads caught a groom and two maids trying to sneak away with a stolen horse
and some gold cups” He informed, looking for her sentencing.
“The battles first traitors” Cersei muttered before taking a deep breath. “Have
Ser Ilyn see to them, put their heads on spikes outside the stables as a
warning” She ordered.
The man looked surprised but bowed and gather Ser Ilyn before leaving.
“The only way to keep the small folk loyal is to make sure they fear you more
than they do the enemy. Remember that, if you ever hope to become a Queen” She
informed before taking another drink.
“You said he was here to protect us…” Sansa said noting how quickly she sent
him away.
“He is” She affirmed. “Traitors are a danger to us all” She explained before
moving her cup back to her handmaiden. “More wine” She ordered without taking
her eyes from Sansa.
Hours passed, and I could faintly hear the sounds from outside, I found myself
wondering if Sandor was already fighting, but shook the thought away, I needed
to focus on what was in front of me.
I sat next to Sansa while we prayed with some of the other Highborn Ladies, a
man stood in the corner and I recognized him as Ser Dontos, the man Sansa had
saved from Joffrey’s wrath on his Name Day months ago, who’d been made the
court fool.
Cersei finished yet another cup of wine before looking to Sansa, a strange
smile on her face. “Sansa, come here, Little Dove” She ordered, her voice like
glass shattering in the quiet of the room, sounding almost drunk. Sansa left
her prayer circle and went to stand before Cersei, I stood and went to sit next
to Shae, so I could listen in while the others scooting closer to each other to
continue praying without us.
“My Queen?” Sansa questioned.
“What are you doing?” The woman asked, pointing with the cup to the prayer
circle.
“Praying” She answered simply.
“You’re perfect, aren’t you? Praying?” Cersei asked, sounding more than a
little scornful, she was definitely drunk. “What are you praying for?” She
asked.
“For the Gods to have mercy on us all” Sansa answered.
“Oh” Cersei croaked. “On all of us?” She asked, lowering her face toward her
cup.
“Yes” Sansa answered quietly.
“Even me?” She asked, looking smug again, was that the only expression that
woman could make?
“Of course, Your Grace” Sansa answered, a confused chuckle mixing into her
words.
“Even Joffrey?” The Queens smile dropped as she asked the question.
I could tell by the air Sansa kept that she amused confusion had turned sour.
“Joffrey is my-“ She started only to interrupted my Cersei.
“Oh, shut up, you little fool” Cersei muttered.
I felt Shae wrap her hand around my wrist, whether it was to keep me or herself
seated I don’t know.
“‘Praying to the Gods to have Mercy on us all’” She mimicked Sansa’s voice
mockingly. “The Gods have no mercy, that’s why they’re Gods. My father told me
that when he caught me praying” She explained before taking a deep breath. “My
mother had just died, you see, I didn’t really understand the concept of death,
the finality of it…I thought that if I prayed very, very, hard, the Gods would
return my mother to me…I was four” She continued before taking a gulp from her
cup.
“Your father doesn’t believe in the Gods?” Sansa questioned confusedly, it was
a strange thing to hear, no one didn’t believe in them, not even the Maesters
with all their knowledge.
“He believes in them, he just doesn’t like them very much” She answered,
setting down her cup in favor of the one she’d had filled for Sansa earlier and
had it filled again. “One for her” She ordered. Once it was filled she held it
out to Sansa with a quick. “Here.”
Sansa took it, if only because she had too, and Cersei tossed a pillow in the
step next to her table. “Sit. Drink” She practically ordered as she picked her
own cup up again and watched Sansa take a sip from hers. “Not like that. Drink,
girl” She corrected, and Sansa took what was almost a gulp from her cup. Cersei
sighed. “I should
have been born a man. I’d rather face a thousand swords than be shut up with
this flock of frightened hens” She said.
“They’re your guests, under your protection. You asked them here” Sansa said.
“It was expected of me, as it will be of you if you ever become Joffrey’s
Queen. If my wretched brother should somehow prevail, these hens will return to
their cocks, and crow of how my courage inspired them, lifted their spirits”
Cersei ranted, gesturing with her cup over the room.
“And if the city should fall?” Sansa asked, worry clear in her face.
Cersei watched Sansa for a moment before she leaned forward a bit. “You’d like
that wouldn’t you?” She returned, her voice lowered. “The Red Keep should hold
for a time, long enough for me to go the walls and yield to Stannis in person.
If it were anyone else outside those gates I might have hoped for a private
audience, but this is Stannis Baratheon” She said his name mockingly. “I’d have
a better chance of seducing his horse” She finished, looking like she was
trying to be funny, then she leaned back a bit in her seat. “Have I shocked
you, Little Dove?” She questioned before inhaling sharply. “Tears aren’t a
woman’s only weapon…The best one’s
between your legs, learn how to use it. Drink” She ordered, and Sansa obeyed.
“Do you have any notion of what happens when a city is sacked? No…You wouldn’t,
would you?” She continued, and I wondered if this woman ever shut up, no wonder

Robert looked so annoyed every time she spoke to him. “If the city falls, these
fine women…Should be in for a bit of a rape” She said, and my heart dropped
into my gut, she’d brought us all here like lambs to the slaughter. “Half of
them will have bastards in their bellies come the morning, you’ll be glad of
your red flower then…When a mans blood is up anything with tits looks good, a
precious thing like you would look very, very, good. A slice of cake, just
waiting to be eaten” She said, finally done terrifying Sansa. I wanted her dead
before, now I wanted her to suffer like she’s made Sansa suffer. Sansa drank
the rest of her wine and Cersei all but told her to go away, I guess she was no
longer having fun tormenting her.
Sansa came to sit between me and Shae and we didn’t hesitate to hold her, I
looked at Cersei and found her looking back at me so I looked to the floor
quickly, trying to see less like a threat.
All it would take is one wrong look and the Lannister bitch would have me dead.
Hours passed, most were asleep, and Cersei called Sansa over again, seemly
calmer this time. “When we were young, Jamie and I, we looked so much alike
that even our father couldn’t tell us apart. I could never understand why they
treated us differently, Jamie was taught to fight with sword, and Lance, and
Mace. And I was taught to smile, and sing, and please. He was heir to Casterly
Rock, and I was sold to some stranger like a horse to be ridden whenever he
desired” She mused bitterly.
“You were Roberts Queen…” Sansa defended weakly.
“And you will be Joffrey’s, enjoy…” She retorted as she took a gulp of wine
before looking toward where Shae and I sat. “I don’t think I know this one” She
said pointing at Shae before she stood and made her way over. “Pretty” She
mused as Shae stood and shakily bowed. Cersei chuckled. “That’s the worse
curtsey I’ve ever seen. Here, it’s not difficult, I mustard it when I was four”
She offered, sounding strangely friendly now. “Straighten your back and then
bend” She said as she demonstrated gracefully.
She mimicked perfectly, and I couldn’t help but note how fast a learner she
was.
“Better, you learn fast” Cersei said as turned and walked back to where she’d
been seated the whole time. “How long have you been in Lady Sansa’s service?”
She asked.
“A few weeks, Your Grace” Shae answered, only just barely remembering to add
the title and her accent glaringly obvious.
“And when did you leave Lorath?” She asked, and Shae smiled at someone
recognizing her accent. “I had a Lorathy Handmaiden once” She offered in
explanation for her recognition of the accent. “But she was nobleman’s
daughter, you’re not” She added, and Shae’s smile slowly dropped. “When did you
come to Westeros?” Cersei asked.
“10 years ago, Your Grace” Shae answered.
“From Lorathy commoner to the Red Keep in 10 years, all without learning how to
curtsey?” The Queen said, a statement rather than a question. “I imagine that’s
a very interesting story” She said, a wide smile finding her face. “What’s your
name?” She asked.
“Shae, Your Grace” Shae answered, sounding more serious than I’ve ever heard
her sound.
“Tell us a story Shae” The Queen ordered.
“When I was 13 I-“ Shae started but was cut off by the door bursting open and a
man walking in.
I recognized him as Ser Loras, the Knight of Flowers, he’d jousted at the
Tourny before Ned died. “Your Grace!” He called, and Shae and Sansa came and
sat back down with me.
“What news?” Cersei asked as she stood to meet him.
“The Imp had set the river afire, hundreds of ships are burning, maybe more,
Stannis’ fleet destroyed but…” He looked at the rest of us before lowering his
voice. “But his troops have landed outside the city walls” He whispered.
“Where is Joffrey?” She asked, just as quietly.
“On the battlements with Lord Tyrion” He answered.
“Bring him back inside at once” She ordered, not even looking at him.
“But, Your Grace” He started.
“What?” She asked sharply.
“The Kings presents is good for moral” He argued.
“Bring him back to his chambers now” She ordered dangerously.
“Not here?” He asked.
“With the women and children, do you want him to be mocked as a coward for the
rest of his life?” She asked, daring him to answer wrong.
“No! But I-“ He started again.
“Now!” She ordered with finality.
Loras didn’t say anything more as he walked away.
Cersei went back to her seat. “When I told you about Ser Ilyn earlier, I lied”
She said as she sat down. “Do you want to hear the truth? Do you want to know
why he’s really here?” She asked as she held her cup out to be refilled. “He’s
here for us. Stannis may take the city, he may take the throne, but he will not
take us alive” She explained. And this it all made sense, she would sooner die
than let Sansa go free…
Sansa looked down at her cup, then at Ser Ilyn. She drank what was left in her
cup before setting it back on the table and come back to sit with Shae and I.
Not long after Ser Loras came back. “The battle is lost, Your Grace. Stannis’
troops are at the gates. When the gold clokes saw the King leaving, they lost
all heart” He informed.
“Where is my son?” She asked. She was more worried about that than the hundreds
that are going to die because she ordered him to his chambers?
“I want to escort him back to the battle” He said, annoyed with her stupidity.
“Why do I care what you want? Bring me-“ She started.
“Now, listen to me, we need-“ He started but she stood and punched him in what
looked like an arrow wound, causing him to cry out loudly and collapse to the
floor.
The sudden noise caused a number of women to cry out in fear.
She took Tommen and walked out the door quickly, leaving a groaning Loras on
the floor.
All of the women in the room looked around and chattered fearfully and Sansa
went to them. “Don’t be afraid! The Queen had raised the drawbridge, this is
the safest
place we can be” She assured, she was so good with people, she truly made me
proud. “Joffrey’s not hurt, he’s fighting bravely, his knights have rallied
behind him,
they will save the city” She continued. “Should we sing a hymn?” She asked and
the women looked between themselves, unsure as to if they should listen to her.

“Gentle Mother, font of mercy, save our sons from war we pray…” She started and
got the others singing before Shae and I grabbed her.
“You must go. Run to your chamber and bar your door, Stannis won’t hurt you,
this one will” She said as she glanced at Ser Ilyn.
We started to lead her toward the door, but she stopped and turned back to
Shae. “Come with me” She said.
“I need to say goodbye to someone” She declined.
“The Queen said they’d rape everyone” Sansa countered.
“No one is raping me” She said as she lifted her skirt and showed us the tiny
dagger tied to her calf, far smaller than my own, closer to a pig sticker, but
enough to do
the job. “Go. Run!” She ordered, pushing us both toward the door. “Stay with
her” She said to me.
I gave her a nod and followed Sansa, the guards opened the doors for us and we
ran to her room and locked it first thing.
The I went to the small lamp that sat on her table, still going from when we’d
been there hours before. We could hear men crying out and fighting outside, but
we were safer here than anywhere else.
She was trying to catch her breath when she looked over and saw the doll Ned
had given her right before he died, she been so disinterested in it before, but
now it matter more than anything.
Then a familiar voice broke the silence. “The Lady’s starting to panic” Sandor
said from the other side of the room, where he’d been sitting in the shadows.
“What are you doing here?” Sansa asked, her voice quivering.
“Not here for long. I’m going” Is what he said, but what I heard was. “I’m
leaving” And my chest clenched.
“Where?” Sansa asked, a bit louder than she needed to.
“Some place that isn’t burning” He answered simply. I could only just make out
the blood on his face and armor in the dark. “North, maybe, could be” He said,
finally
looking at us, before opening the wineskin in his hands.
“What about the King?” Sansa asked, more concerned with him leaving than
Joffrey’s safety.
“He can die just fine on his own” He said before taking a gulp from the
wineskin, then he looked back at us. “I can take you with me, both of you. Take
you to Winterfell” He said before standing, his bloody armor clanking as he
moved toward us. “I’ll keep you safe. Do you want to go home?” He asked.
I mentally begged Sansa to say yes, I wasn’t going to leave her alone, and if
she stayed then there was a chance I would never see him again…But I would give
up the
man I loved for the girl I helped raise, the girl I swore to protect.
“I’ll be safe here…Stannis won’t hurt me” She said, not looking at him.
Then he took a sudden, loud step toward her, closing the four-foot distance
between them in a single step. It caused me to take a step of my own toward
them as she whimpered fearfully, begging any God that was listening not to make
me kill the man I love to protect her.
“Look at me” He ordered as she looked at his chest but didn’t really see it.
When she finally looked at him he spoke. “Stannis is a killer, the Lannister’s
are killers, your father was a killer, your brother is a killer, your sons will
be killers someday, even your handmaiden is a killer. The world is built by
killers, so you better get used to looking at them” He explained, and I
wondered if he realized that the first and only time I’ve ever killed was when
we saved her.
The fear in her expression melted away into a shaky confidence. “You won’t hurt
me” She said, a quiet surety in her voice.
“No, Little Bird, I won’t hurt you” He affirmed before tuning and walking out
the door, glancing back at me for a second before walking down the hall.
I stared at the doorway for only a second before my gaze moved to Sansa. “Stay
here, I’ll be back” I said before following him.
Once in the hall I saw him near the end. “Sandor!” I called as I walked quickly
toward him.
He stopped and looked down at me, I couldn’t keep the tears from my eyes as I
approached him, and when I stood before him, they slipped free.
Neither of us said anything before I grabbed his face and pulled him down,
crashing his lips into mine. I didn’t care about the blood, sweat, and alcohol.
I just cared about what was probably the last kiss I would ever get from him.
He returned it without hesitation, his hands gripping my sides with the same
desperation I felt.
When it finally broke I looked up at him, I couldn’t ask him to stay, and I
couldn't go with him, so I memorized his face, every dip and curve, the shape
of his scar, and the exact shade of brown that made up his eyes.
We released each other, and I took a step back, taking a deep shaky breath as I
went. “I love you…” I said, a strength in my voice that I didn’t feel.
He looked down at me and seemed to understand exactly what I was silently
begging him for. “I love you too” He said before turning and continuing in the
direction he’d been going.
I stood there alone for longer than I should have, watching him disappear, then
wishing he would come back as the tears raced down my cheeks.
Eventually I returned to Sansa’s room and she looked at my tear stained face. “
(Y/N)…” She whispered, and it was like a blacksmith hammer through glass, I
fell to the
floor and let the pain out, cries and sobs ripped themselves from my throat, my
face so screwed up that it pulled at the tight flesh of my scars. And Sansa
held me, through all of it, she held me.
Just like I had held her so many times when she was in pain, she held me as my
heart broke.
Chapter End Notes
     Kudos are great but comments are better!
***** Valar Morghulis *****
Chapter Summary
     With the close of the second season we find (Y/N) in the aftermath of
     her heartbreak, and a new player in the Game of Thrones. Will the
     Tyrells prove to be ally's or will they be just another enemy for her
     and Sansa to fight?
Chapter Notes
     And this ends season 2! And with it I'll be taking a short break, I
     have a lot of life stuff that must take precedence over writing. I
     don't expect it to be a long absence, but it may feel like a long
     time. But I can assure you that this story is far from abandoned!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Days passed, and the battle grew further and further into the past.
The first day after I woke in my own chambers and felt a painful numbness that
I’d never experienced before, like a piece of me had been ripped from my body.
I desperately wanted to stay locked in my room, but I had work to do, and
someone to protect. So, I buried my pain deep and ignored it.
Two days passed and Joffrey’s grandfather, Lord Tywin, was sworn in as the Hand
of the King, I honestly felt bad for Tyrion, no one recognized the good he did
during the battle, how well he’d held off Stannis and his men before Lord Tywin
and his men arrived.
I stood in the throne room with Sansa watching the ceremony for Lord Tywin.
I watched at the old man rode in on a horse, seemed a bit much to me but
whatever they think is necessary.
“I, Joffrey of the House Baratheon, first of my name, the rightful King of the
Andals and the first men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the
Realm do hereby proclaim my grandfather, Tywin Lannister, the Savior of the
City, and the Hand of the King” Joffrey said as Tywin rode closer. When he
finished a barer came with a red pillow and Joffrey put the Hand pin on it, the
barer took the pin to Tywin and he picked it up, he looked at it for a moment
before bowing as low as he could on his horse.
“Thank you, Your Grace” He said before turning his horse and riding back up the
aisle.
Before Tywin was even halfway out Joffrey spoke. “Lord Petyr Baelish, step
forward” He said, and the disgusting man did as ordered, kneeling before
Joffrey. “For your good service, and ingenuity in uniting the Houses of
Lannister and Tyrell, I declare that you shall be granted the castle of Harron
Hall with all it’s attended lands and incomes to be held by your sons and grand
sons from this day until the end of time” He announced, pulling many gasps and
murmurs from the crowd.
“You honor me beyond words, Your Grace, I shall have to acquire some sons and
grandsons” Baelish said, causing the crowd to laugh, before moving back to
where he had been.
“Ser Loras Tyrell!” Joffrey called.
The man looked less than interested in talking to Joffrey, probably still angry
at the boy’s cowardice during the battle, but knelt before his nonetheless.
“Your House has come to our aid, the whole realm is in your debt, even more so
than I, if your family would ask anything of me, as it, and it shall be yours”
Joffrey said.
“Your Grace” Loras stated before clearing his throat. “My sister, Margaery, her
husband was taken from her before…She remains innocent” Loras explained, and
Joffrey sat a forward in his seat a bit, his intrest peaked. “I would ask it in
your heart to do us the great honor of joining our Houses” He finished, I could
tell he was trying not to cry at the loss of the man he’d loved, most thought
that Loras and Renly’s relationship had been solely for sex, but I could tell
that Loras truly loved Renly.
Joffrey looked to the woman stood next to where Loras had been, her lovely blue
dress was the first thing to catch one’s eye as the front was cut quite low,
the next would be her beautiful face framed by long brown hair.
“Is this what you want, Lady Margaery?” Joffrey asked as Cersei looked Sansa’s
way with a smug expression, like she knew that this would happen.
Margaery stepped forward as she spoke. “With all my heart, Your Grace. I have
come to love you from afar. Tales of your courage and wisdom have never been
far from my ear, and those talks have taken root, deep inside of me” She said,
clearly stroking Joffrey’s ego, I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes and
fight a gage.
“Well, I too have heard tales. Of your beauty and grace, but the tales do not
do you justice, My Lady. It would be an honor to return your love, but I am
promised to another, a King must keep his work” Joffrey said.
Cersei looked like she was trying to keep from laughing as she spoke. “Your
Grace, in the judgement of your Small Council, it would be neither proper nor
wise for you to wed the daughter of a man beheaded for treason” She said, every
woman, the same women who she’d calmed in the Holdfast, looked at her like
she’d been the one to do something wrong. “A girl whose brother is in open
rebellion against the throne as we speak. For the good of the realm, your
counselors beg you” She looked directly at Sansa. “To set Sansa Stark aside”
She finished.
The murmurs were loud, and a few people called out, but whether it was in the
affirmative or the negative I couldn’t tell.
Joffrey stood quickly with his hand up, silencing them all. “I would like to
your wishes and the wishes of my people, but I took a holy vow” He argued,
probably because he thought that Sansa would leave if they were no longer
betrothed and he wanted to keep tormenting her. As he spoke I saw Margaery look
at Sansa with a strange expression, one that I wasn’t sure I could trust.
“Your Grace” Maester Pycell called. “The Gods do, indeed, hold betrothal
solemn, but your father, blessed be his memory, made this pact before the
Starks revealed their falseness. I have consulted with the High Septon and
assures me that their crimes against the realm free you from any promise you
have made to them in the sight of the Gods” He informed in his halting slow
manner, how did anyone listen to this man at length? He never shut up and he
spoke to slowly.
Cersei smirked at Sansa again and I wondered what he had in mind, how could she
possibly hurt Sansa more than she already had?
Joffrey sighed. “The Gods are good. I am free to heed my heart” He announced.
“Ser Loras, I will gladly wed your sweet sister” He agreed as Loras stood,
Margaery grinned. “You will be my Queen, and I will love you from this day,
until my last day” He said, looking strangely happy.
The crowd clapped joyously as Margaery looked Sansa’s way, her smile dropping,
Sansa looked more than a little shocked, how was she supposed to react to such
a thing?
Sansa turned and walked away, I quickly followed her and caught the grin that
slowly made its way to her face at being free from him, along with the joyful
tears, then a chuckle that could have been mistaken as a sob left her. We were
almost to the door when someone called her from behind.
“My Lady” It was Baelish, I quickly curtseyed as he came closer. “My sincerest
condolences” He said, only stopping when he was much too close to an unwed, and
now unbetrothed, girl.
“They’re right. I’m not good enough for him” She said, playing the part
amazingly.
“You shouldn’t say that. You’ll still be good for many things, he’ll still
enjoy beating you, and now that you’re a woman, he’ll be able to enjoy you in
other ways as well” He explained, I wanted to hit him for taking away the first
little bit of joy she’d has in months, but I knew he was right.
“But…He’s not marrying me, he…” She started.
“He’d let you go home?” Baelish questioned, a quiet scoff left him before he
shook his head. “Joffrey’s not the sort of boy who gives away his toys” He said
and placed his hand on her arm, it was a gentle thing, but it still made my
hand itch to grab my dagger and cut it off. “You have a tender heart, just like
your mother did at your age, I can see so much of her in you” He said, and then
I understood his interest in her, he was in love with Cate, and now he’s after
Sansa. “She was like a sister to me, for her sake, I’ll help get you home” He
promised. At what price I wondered.
Sansa looked hopeful for a moment before it disappeared. “Kingslanding is my
home now” She said quietly.
“Look around you, we’re all liars here. And every one of us, is better than
you” He said before turning and walking away.
I escorted Sansa back to her room. “Why didn’t you take his offer? He can take
you home” I asked as I prepared her a plate for lunch.
“Because he’ll want something in return” She answered as she sat at the table.
“They all do, but at least you can pay them back later, or never, these are
uncertain times, they could die before you can” I said as I set the plate in
front of her.
“Are you a liar?” She asked, not even looking at her food.
I met her gaze. “Only to protect you” I answered simply.
“Why didn’t you go with him? When he left during the battle” She asked,
referring the Sandor, but knowing better than to say his name.
I was quiet for a while. “Because you matter to me more…” I whispered, it
wasn’t a lie, but it’s far from the whole truth.
“You can have the rest of the day to yourself, I don’t intend to go anywhere”
She said as she ate.
I nodded. “I’ll return at dinner time” I said before stopping in the door way.
“You should accept Baelish’s offer to take you home” I said before leaving. I
hated the man, but he seemed to be the only way for Sansa to get home, and that
made him important.
I didn’t know where to go.
In the past I’d have gone to the gardens in the hopes that maybe I might
encounter him, but I couldn’t do that anymore.
I sighed and decided to go there anyway. There was nowhere else to go, and I
wasn’t going to leave the keep in case Sansa needed me.
I wondered in the gardens till I reached the small nook where I’d first kissed
Sandor. It seemed so dim now, like the sun wasn’t fully reaching it.
I took in a shaky breath and closed my eyes.
“(Y/N)?” A voice questioned from behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw
Tyrion’s Squire.
“Yes?” I questioned as I turned to fully face him.
“I’m Podrick, I was asked by Lord Varys to ask you to meet him in his office”
He said, standing awkwardly before me.
“Aren’t you in service to Lord Tyrion? Why would you take orders from Lord
Varys?” I asked.
“I am. Because he asked nicely, and Lord Tyrion doesn’t really want to see
anyone right now” He explained, clasping his hand uncomfortably.
I nodded, I’d heard that Tyrion had been injured, it was nice to know that he’s
alive. “Thank you for letting me know” I said before turning to walk away.
“Is it true what they say about you?” He asked suddenly.
I stopped and looked back at him over my shoulder once more, with a lifted
brow. “Is what true? What do they say?” I asked.
He visibly gulped. “That you’re scarred like the Hound, and just as dangerous”
He said, starting out confident in his question but growing quieter as I gazed
at him.
I sighed. “No one is as dangerous as him” I said before walking away.
I made my way to Varys’ office and found him sitting in wait at his desk.
“Varys. Why did you call me?” I asked after closing the door, something which
had long since become a thoughtless action.
“I had my little birds keeping an eye on Lars, in case he wasn’t as trustworthy
as we thought, and they’ve reported that during the chaos of the masses during
the battle, he was killed” He informed as he stood from his seat.
I sighed deeply. “Damn it…” I muttered, what was I supposed to do now? I
doubted there were any other men in this city that would be willing to risk
teaching me to fight.
“I met with him a few days before the battle and he told me that there wasn’t
much else for him to teach you. While tragic, his death is less inconvenient
than it would otherwise be” He said as he leaned back against his desk.
I could only nod in response. “Was there anything else?” I asked, I needed to
be alone, at least for a while.
“Not quite. I’ve received word from Winterfell. It seems that when Robb sent
Theon to Iron Islands to enlist Lord Greyjoy to join his side of the war, Theon
decided to side with his family line and take over Winterfell…Last I heard, he
killed Bran and Rickon…” He explained.
I thought my heart ached when Sandor left, but this news made the air flee my
lungs, it made my knees feel weak, my blood pounded in my head. Varys guided me
to sit before I fell.
I gasped for the air that seemed to be evading me. How could Theon do this to
us? I know he was a ward of war, but we raised him, we loved and fed him. And
he chose to return the favor by killing two innocent boys that weren’t even
alive when he arrived?
“How long…?” I wheezed, my eyes unable to leave the floor.
“Theon took Winterfell a month ago…And the boys a few weeks after that” He
answered quietly.
I managed to get my breath back, and with it came a rage I never knew I could
feel, it made my chest burn and my eyes go dark. “And I’m only just hearing
about this? Surely Robb has had word of this and would have sent a raven to
inform me!” I said, trying to keep my voice down, but unable to mask my fury.
Varys sighed, ever the pillar of calm. “Robb has been preoccupied with war
efforts. If he could have, I’m sure he wouldn’t hesitate” He said, trying to
sound reassuring. “And some reports say that it was a cover for the boy
escaping with the large man and a wildling.”
My eyes darted to him. “And you didn’t think to start with that?” I sneered.
Varys gave me an apologetic look that had me sighing and rolling my eyes.
“Anything else I should know?” I asked, my face resting in my hand.
“I have taken on a partner, someone you may know. She’s known as Ros, she comes
from a brothel near Winterfell” He informed. I recognized the name immediately,
Theon went to see her often, and had not been sparing with the details.
“I know of her, and I’d seen her a few times, but we’ve never spoken. Last I
heard she still worked in that brothel” I said, looking up at him through my
fingers.
“She’s been in Kingslanding for a while, almost as long as you have. She works
in Baelish’s brothel, and now she works for me as well” He said, sounding
almost smug, probably happy to get one up on Baelish, as he moved back around
his desk to sit down.
“Can she be trusted?” I asked, more concerned that she’ll give information to
Baelish that I don’t want him to have.
“I think she can. To a certain degree, at least. Everything she learns will
come to me before it reaches him” He explained.
I nodded before a sigh forced itself from me. “What of the Tyrells? They’re a
rather influential house, I’m doubtful that they can be trusted, but do I need
to be looking over my shoulder for them?” I asked. Margaery seemed nice, and
she was certainly pretty, but I’ve learned that one should never take look as a
sign of trustworthiness.
“I have yet to speak to any of them, but I don’t think they wish Sansa, or you,
ill” He said.
“Good…Please let me know, Margaery seems like a good enough sort, but then, so
did Joffrey” I said before standing from the seat.
“I have little birds everywhere, not just in Kingslanding…I can have keep an
eye out for your Hound, if you wish…” He offered quietly.
I was tempted to accept his offer, I would know if he were alive or not, I
would know where to find him when Sansa and I finally escape. But he wouldn’t
want to be followed or watched, and I shouldn’t invade his privacy…No matter
how I feel.
I was already facing the door when Varys spoke and had to keep my face blank to
keep from showing all the pain I was carrying as I turned and shook my head.
“Thank you for offering, Lord Varys, but I must decline” I managed, my throat
tight, before I turned back to the door once more.
“(Y/N)?” He called, and I halted with my hand on the door handle, turning my
head to look at him over my shoulder, waiting for him to continue. “I’m sorry”
He said. He was being earnest, but I didn’t want pity, I didn’t need it.
I didn’t reply as I opened the door and walked away.
I was so lost in thought that I found myself back at my room before I knew it.
And there I stayed till dinner time came around and I went back to Sansa’s room
to do my work, then I returned and stayed there for the rest of the night.
My bed felt cold, and I’d never felt so alone in my life.
Chapter End Notes
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