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Sansa and Margaery are lying on the couch at Margaery’s apartment. Sansa’s flipping through her phone, trying to see if she can find a newer, hipper game to play on her phone than 2048, but she’s coming up short. Nothing satisfies her urge to look at pretty colors and figure out how to fit pieces together like that game does. The Florian Brothers start playing on Margaery's phone.
I'm hot, you're cold
You go around like you know
Who I am, but you don't
You've got me on my toes
Sansa starts singing along to Burnin' Up and Margaery sits up.
“Speaking of The Florian Brothers, did you know that Joe Florian got married?”
“I didn’t,” Sansa said.
“His wife is Sophie Turner,” Margaery says, “can you believe that?”
“Well,” Sansa says, “I’ve never heard of her, so yes?” Sansa’a bit behind the times on pop culture because of the years she spent atrophying, married to Joffrey. She’s sure that the woman is famous, but she has no idea what she’s famous for.
“Well for one, she's like the hottest actress that I know of. She plays Jean Grey in the X-Men movies,” Margaery says.
“Babe,” Sansa says, “I spent about four years completely cut off from pop culture.”
“The first X-Men movie came out nineteen years ago! You can’t use that one as an excuse for this.”
“That was nerd stuff, I wouldn’t watch nerd stuff with my siblings because I didn’t want to decrease my cool factor.”
“For one, that was stupid,” Margaery says, holding up a single finger, “you do know that was stupid, right?”
“I know that now,” Sansa says, “I didn’t know that when I was fifteen.”
“For two,” Margaery says, holding up her second finger, “nerd stuff is cool nowadays and we’ll be watching all of those movies soon.” Sansa rolled her eyes.
“Okay,” she says. She doesn’t think that she’ll like those movies, but she’s willing to give them a try for Margaery. The worst case scenario is that she’s bored and gets to cuddle up on Margaery’s lap and sleep or fiddle on her phone.
Margaery’s eye brow furrows and she asks, “Where was I going with this?”
“Apparently some hot actress looks like me?” Sansa says. Margaery snaps.
“Right! Sophie Turner! Have you seen The Red Wolf ?”
“Is that a show?”
“Yes,” Margaery says, like it’s obvious, “it’s that super famous series about your namesake.”
“There’s a show about Sansa I?” Sansa asks.
“Of course there is,” Margaery says, “historical dramas are very in vogue right now.” Sansa doesn’t think that historical dramas are any cooler than they’ve ever been right now, she thinks that Margaery just happens to love them.
“Alright,” Margaery says, “I’ll just show you the Sucker video then.” Margaery pulls up her phone, exits out of her music app (which stops Burnin' Up midword, which Sansa does not appreciate) pulls up youtube, and has Sucker by The Florian Brothers pulled up in no time flat. The opening chords of the song start as the camera films a mansion. Then the brothers themselves are inside the mansion, and a pair of women sitting in lawnchairs and wearing sunglasses inside, surrounded by a herd of bunny rabbits. The images continue like that, surreal and pastel, and Sansa is pretty sure that she isn't going to see anyone who resembles her.
And baby you know it’s-
Margaery hits her phone screen hard and then and holds it up to Sansa’s face.
“See!” she says, forcing an image of a blonde woman with high, sharp cheekbones into her face, “she looks just like you!” The woman is beautiful, surely, but Sansa can't see the resemblance. They had different hair colors, for one.
“I don’t see it,” Sansa says. Margaery glares.
“Fine, we’ll just have to find a better image,” she says, “I’m sure there’s one somewhere in this video.” She hit the button again and restarted the video.
Obvious I’m a sucker for you
Some more of the song plays along with interesting visuals, until she sees Sophie Turner sitting in a bathtub, clutching a wine glass.
Any road you take you know that you’ll -
Margaery pauses the video a moment after the woman Margaery claims looks like Sansa finishes spitting the bathwater she drunk out of a wine glass out of her mouth, and Sansa grimaces.
“I don’t look like that!” she says. There’s something regal about her features, but Sansa doesn’t think she shares them. Her features are softer, her skin tone lighter, and she doesn’t think her nose has that shape. Sophie Turner’s a beautiful woman, but not the way that Sansa is.
“You really don’t think you look like her?” Margaery asks. Sansa shakes her head again.
"You have the same cheekbones, and the same noses," Margaery says.
"Just because you think she looks hot too doesn't mean that we look that similar," Sansa says, "maybe you're projecting because you feel bad being attracted to people who aren't your girlfriend?"
“Fine, whatever,” Margaery says, rolling her eyes, “I’m finishing up the video though.” Sansa continues watching, and there isn’t a single shot where she changes her mind. Sophie Turner does look pretty good on that throne, though. Casting her as Sansa I must have been a good move.
They go to family dinner at her parent’s house that night. It’s the two of them, both parents, Bran and Rickon, and even Arya. She had something that she wanted to do in town this weekend, so she’d made the trek up from Torrhen’s Square for the weekend.
“Okay,” Margaery says, as though she’s about to ask a question of utmost importance, “so I have a question. Just, I need one person to validate me on this. Please.” An odd look passes around the table.
“Are we agreeing that a top looks good on you or are we agreeing to like, poison babies?” Rickon asks.
“No babies will be poisoned,” Margaery says, “I promise.”
“It’s about the actress thing, isn’t it?” Sansa says, and she can hear the tired tone in her voice. Margaery nods.
“It’s about the actress thing. Does anyone know who Sophie Turner is?”
“Oh yeah,” Arya says, “she’s the one who played Queen Sansa in that Red Wolf show, isn’t she?”
“Exactly!” Margaery says, sending Arya an intense look, “doesn’t she look like our Sansa?” Arya looks thoughtful for a moment, then her eyes widen.
“Old gods,” she says, “she does! She looks just like our Sansa!” Sansa rolls her eyes.
“She doesn’t look a thing like me,” she says. Arya shakes her head.
“The rest of us spend more time looking at your face than you do,” Arya says. She pulls out her phone, presumably finding a picture that will “prove” her theory. She shows it to Margaery, who’s sitting beside her, and Margaery bumps her fist.
“Perfect! Pass it around the table!” she urges. Arya shoves it into Bran’s hands and he nods at it.
“That does look like her,” he says. He holds his hand with the phone out, but Rickon doesn’t look inclined to take it.
“If you make me wheel my way over there to shove it in your lap, we’re having words, Rick,” Bran says. Rickon doesn’t look pleased to take it, but does anyway.
“What’s got you so sour about this?” Arya asks. Rickon just clutches the phone.
“Looks like Sansa,” he admits, then he nearly launches the phone into his father’s lap.
“Is this ‘cause Shireen’s got a crush on that actress?” Rickon doesn’t say anything, which means that it is related the crush he’s had on Arya’s best friend since he was five years old.
“Don’t worry, Rick,” Arya says with a big smile, “Shireen’s got about as much of a chance with this actress as you do with Shireen.” Rickon’s look sours even further, as if that’s even possible.
“Age differences matter a lot less one you’re adults,” her mother says evenly, “your Uncle Edmure and Aunt Roslin have that same age difference, just the other way around.”
“See!” Rickon says, looking validated. Her father picks up the phone, and his eyes are wide.
“This is uncanny,” he says, and then he sneaks a look at his wife, “Cat, Sansa wasn’t a twin, right? We didn’t accidentally lose one?”
Her mother rolls her eyes, “No, Ned,” she says, taking the phone from him. Her eyes are just as wide when she takes it.
“Okay,” she says, “this is freaky.” She turns to Sansa.
“Are you sure that you don’t think she looks like you?”
“Positive,” Sansa says. Her mother passes her the phone.
“Give it one last look, alright?” Sansa rolls her eyes, but looks at this new picture of Sophie Turner. The actress is not done up in whatever ensemble she was for the Sucker video. This time she’s wearing a black dress with a single wolfskin slid over one of her shoulders. Her hair has been dyed the same shade of red as Sansa’s braided into a single plait down the back of her head. She’s looking directly into the camera, as if she’s ready to take on the world. This image does remind her of herself.
She’s not saying that they’re twins like her father is saying, but she can see the resemblance now.
“Alright,” Sansa says, “I kind of see it.”
“Kind of?” her father asks. Her mother shakes her head.
“If Sansa doesn’t see it the same way as the rest of us, we can’t force her to,” she says. Margaery smiles.
“Well, thank you all for validating me,” Margaery says, “if I’d have left it up to Sansa, I’d have convinced myself I was crazy.”
“Well, you weren’t crazy on this one,” Rickon says, “we never said you weren’t crazy on other things.”
“I’d actually say you were crazy on every other thing,” Arya says.
“Arya,” her mother scolds. Arya shrugs her shoulders, and Sansa bursts into laughter. Maybe she doesn’t see the resemblance, but everyone else seemed to and they got a kick out of it. Maybe she can just play along. Whatever makes this many of her favorite people happy is probably worth considering.