Chapter Text
Sansa sat on the ledge of the window on her mother’s chambers and looked down below to the green courtyard extending before her. There was no doubt that her lady mother had a privileged view in the kingdom, of course nothing less could be expected of the downer queen, a tittle her mother had gotten back just recently.
With a sigh Sansa let her head fall against the cold stone wall as her eyes absorbed the beauty in front of her with a sense of nostalgia. Not long ago she dreamed of venturing outside again, weary and restless of being locked down for too long and now while technically she was free to roam the world again she felt even more trapped than before.
But things hadn’t always been this sad for the young woman. Until a year ago Sansa had been a happy princess, her laughter had been carefree and she had spent a lot of time jesting and playing with her siblings. Sansa Stark was the daughter of Eddard Stark, first of his name and King of the vast lands of England. Her father had been adored by both townsfolk and nobles, he had gained his throne with a lot of bloodshed Sansa was sure but his reign had been a quiet peaceful one.
Before the dark times arrived Sansa had been betrothed to the prince of France Joffrey Baratheon, a marriage that would gain her father many alliances and that would favor the reign of her older brother Robb, once it was his time to rule. Sansa had been grateful for this arrangement since it meant she would have the chance of helping her family but a part of her also resented it because her heart belonged only to Harrold Stone, bastard half-brother of her cousin Robbin, Lord of the Vale but since a marriage with him would bring no benefit for her family she never had dared to utter those words to no one but her dear friend Margaery.
Sansa had accepted a long time ago that she would never marry for love but she also didn’t expect to marry a usurper.
When Sansa’s father got ill with consumption all hopes of the Kingdom had fallen into the hands of her twenty year old brother Robb, he had been trained since his birth to be a King and everyone knew he would do a wonderful work. Yet the pain of losing their King had set the realm in a very dark period, the fierce and wild Eddard Stark had died on the bed of his chambers surrounded by his family but before his body could get cold on the ground, Peter Baelish, the man whom they believed to be their allied had rebelled against the crown and her brother Robb had died fighting him.
Sansa still couldn’t think of that time without wanting to break down in tears, so much had been taken away from them in a matter of days. Her mother, her little sister and her had been forced to go into sanctuary so the evilness of that man could reach them and her little brother Bran had been captured an locked in the Tower only to be executed weeks after.
Then Peter I had sat into a throne he had stolen of the hands of a man fool enough to trust him.
His short reign was a bitter one, he was hated by everyone but still believed he could grasp onto the power by committing treacherous acts and executing whoever dared to refute his will. His ruling was based on fear and Sansa had wept many nights imagining everything her father created on the ground.
But his reign of terror wasn’t going to last.
Jon Targaryen, who had been living in exile for the last twenty years, finally reached the land of England, with royal blood running through his veins the young man fought for his claim to the throne. Sansa only heard of the horrors of that battle where Jon had gotten the crown, she imagined the body of Peter Baelish bloodied and cold on the ground and although it shamed her to admit it the image was encouraging for her.
Jon of house Targaryen, first of his name had earned the kingdom by conquest. He was England’s rightful king but still known as a usurper since Targaryen blood ran through his veins, the people claimed for Robbin to rise but since Jon’s forces were greater the young Lord of the Vale was forced to flee into hiding to avoid his execution.
The people were forced to acknowledge Jon as their king despite of themselves, the fear of him was too grater. So a red rose, sigil of his house, had replaced the white rose of her family and could be seen all around the kingdom making spectacle of who their ruler was.
But whispers hadn’t stopped and fearing a rebellion the young man had demanded Sansa’s hand in marriage to appease the people and her mother being the political owl she was agreed to the betrothal knowing it would make her family rise again. Catelyn had explained to Sansa that it was the only way everyone got what they wanted, Jon got the support of his people by marrying the daughter of the King England adored so much and her family gained power at court once again.
So Sansa had been finally able to leave sanctuary, leaving a prison to go into a new one.
Two weeks she had sat in this window every day waiting for the day the king would summon for her, she had yet to know him but whispers of him had already reached her ears. Maids whispered of his beauty, men of his brutality and Sansa who all ever she wanted of life was to marry for love only hoped he was a decent man and not monster like Peter had been.
“Lady Sansa?” The young girl moved her eyes away from the countryside to direct them towards Mya, her young maid who was currently standing at the entrance of her chambers.
“Yes, Mya”
“My lady, the king has called for you”
A sense of dread invaded the young princess as she forced her body to move away from the window. She sucked in a breath and straightened her back as her mother had thought her before following Mya into the hallway.
It was finally time to meet Jon the usurper.