Archive of Our Own

Part 1

Sansa resists the urge to bring her hand to her stinging cheek and split lip as the Kingslayer escorts her to her room that is now her permanent holding cell.

What will her future be? Will she die the same way her father died? Will she be saved? Is the rest of her family safe? Is she?

But she already knows the answer to that last question. She will never be safe in the south as the child of a traitor who committed treason against the crown.She should have never trusted them to simply exile her father. She’s now seen how cruel Joffrey is and is hesitant to believe the words that come out of his mouth past, present, and future. As cruel people like to tell cruel lies to bring misery to others. She is unsure of the nature of Queen Cersei but will not trust her either.

They arrive in front of the door but the Kingslayer stops and hands her a handkerchief.

“Your lip is bleeding,”

Sansa puts her fingers to her lips and sees blood on her fingers when she pulls them back. She uses the handkerchief to wipe her lips hesitant to look at the towering man who is part of the family that has ruined hers.

She is not sure if she should hand it back.

“Keep it. From the looks of it your lip may continue to bleed,”

Her throat tightens, “thank you,”

“Don’t thank me. This is nothing,” he says clipped.

She looks down, uncomfortable with his strange harshness.

“You’ll be in this kingdom for who knows how long, but it will be long enough to decide if you live or die. Play the game well,”

Sansa looks up at him, her fathers dangling head in the hands of some man reappearing in her mind, “this is no game,”

“It is to them,” he says, his tone final.

She watches him walk away until his back turns the corner. Sansa enters her room and closes the door. She could have run because of the Kingslayer not making sure she stays in her bedchamber let alone standing guard near it. But she knows she will only be caught and returned.

Sitting on the edge of the bed she grips the handkerchief so tightly her nails beak into her skin. How can this be nothing to the people of this kingdom? How can her fathers death be nothing but an entertaining game for them?

Tears that burn stream down her face, if she wants to live she will have to play this game. She will have to do, say, and hold back all manner of things. Her body and mind will be held hostage for years or until her dying breath and she can do nothing about it.

Part 2

Sansa strides toward the door as graceful as possible despite the burning in her legs. This beating at the very least was lighter than the others.

It seems Joffrey is in quite the mood after the Kingslayer escaped back to the south. Sansa is sure it’s not for any sentimental reasons but because the idea her family who waged war couldn’t even hold one man hostage. Although she still had to pay the price for him being captured in the first place.

She opens the door and freezes at the sight of who her escort is for the day. Unfreezing she greets him with a polite curtsy.

“It is good to see you are no longer being held hostage,”

“If your going to lie make it believable,”
“How could it be a lie, ser, is escaping from your capturers not something to be joyful about,”

“Escaping, sure. Being released not so much,”

Sansa pauses, “released,”

“Your mother let me go on the promise I’d help bring you and your sister home,”

Her mouth feels dry and her heart hurts. He is here to torment her surely. He is a Lannister and they love to torment others.

She is spurred into speaking when a slow moving maid drops her basket of laundry and takes her sweet time picking it up, “A traitor.. Wanting to take me from my new home brings me no comfort,”

Jaime chuckles, “how loyal you are to this family brings me great relief because as you know it would be almost impossible to bring you home,”

“Almost?” slips out of her mouth and she wants to smack herself. She has learned quite harshly that she must always be careful with her words.

He steps close enough to invade her space and she has to tense her body in order to not move back.

“Yes with planning and time I surely could but that would imply I would want to help you,” he smiles his face cruels, “It’s highly amusing that your stupid mother thought I of all people would help anyone let alone betray my family,”

Her eyes yet again burn with her holding back tears at his taunting, but she refuses to look away from him and prepares a courteous reply. It is stopped though when he suddenly enters her room and closes the door.

Sansa wants to run, Why is he in here? What will he do? Will he fondle her like Joffrey? Giver her ‘medicine’ and have her held down while he ‘checks’ her body like Maester Pycelle? Or will he be like the hound?

But he does none of those things and speaks so quietly Sansa has to strain to listen, “I cannot help you escape now but I can protect you,” he suddenly grabs her arm, “now looks shaken and scared,” he orders as he opens the door.

She doesn’t have to pretend because she is scared, shaken, and confused. And a small part of her that she hates has a small hope that maybe he is here to help. She will not allow it to consume her though she knows not to assume someone’s character and that it’s best to wait for them to show who they really are.

Part 3

Joffrey is angry Sansa knows this because Meryn Trant is standing at her doorway with an order from Joffrey for her to be taken to the throne room.

“What might you be doing Trant,” Jaime asks, suddenly appearing behind him.

Meryn turns to answer him, “I’m escorting the lady to King Joffrey,”

“I will take her,”

“Why,”

“I have business with her,”

“As does the King,”

“It won’t take long and Joffrey will see her soon so stop asking a hundred questions,”

Meryn stares at Jaime only for him to stare back and smile Meryn huffs and walks away. Sansa wonders if he didn’t continue to argue because Jaime is still a Lannister despite being on the Kingsguard.

Jaime beckons her along and she follows her clasped hands shaking at the impending beating she will get from Joffrey after her and Jaimes ‘business.’

Turning down the hallway Sansa wrinkles her eyebrows when they arrive at an unfamiliar room. Walking inside she sees it is a simple room with a balcony and a table on its side and pushed against the wall next to a wooden sword. The room is big enough to fit fifty people comfortably.

Jaime picks up some folded clothing and a pair of boots and hands it to her.

“Put this on and knock on the door when you’re done,” he says leaving the room.

She looks at the clothing and realizes it's a white tunic and black breeches. What he’s doing is now making sense to her. He is going to teach her how to wield a sword and Sansa is a bit disappointed.

How is learning how to wield a sword meant to protect her? It is more likely to get her killed than anything. The only thing that’s kept her alive so far has been using her courtesy like armour. But she will not completely dismiss what he’s attempting to do. Sighing, she puts it on and knocks on the door.

Walking back into the room Jaime speaks quietly once the doors are closed, “Learning how to wield a sword won’t be much help to you maybe one day it will but for now this is how I protect you,”

“Explain,”

“I can’t out right protect you but I am bored and making a girl my ‘squire’ and tormenting/ ‘beating’ you with the excuse that I’m just teaching you is a great way to relieve my boredom. Besides a knight needs his squire in good shape meaning no more lessons from Joffrey,”

Sansa pauses bewildered at this plan it is no wonder he is a knight and not the next lord Lannister. “So you will make me your squire and pretend to use that as an excuse to beat me while keeping Joffrey away because only you are allowed to torment me?”

“Yes,”

“Why not make me your squire and say you're doing it because you're bored without using the tormenting excuse?”

“Because… ?”
“Your repetition is already bad with a dose of being seen as reckless and making ridiculous decisions. Use that to your advantage,”

“True. well then problem solved lets gets started,”

Jaime’s plan made some sense no one would actually believe she’s truly learning something and if she was she would be a threat to no one. She is a thirteen year old girl and if she tried to escape the Kingsguard would be sent after her. The Kingsguard who are adult men who’ve been learning for years.

“Wait,” Sansa says, “why do I actually have to learn,”

“Because sitting around for a few house out the day pretending to train you is boring,”

She sighs, “I will  train diligently,”

“Good now grab the sword,”

Picking it up she notices that while she can hold it, it is heavy and she can only do it for so long.

“One, you’re going to need to get stronger to hold a sword and two, I want you to swing at me,”

“What?”

“Swing. At. Me. I want to see what you are capable of,”

“Nothing, ser, I am capable of nothing when he comes to swords,”

He shrugs and tells her to swing again so she does. She blushes when the sword drops low and falls out of her hands when she stumbles at the force of the swing.

Jaime nods his head as if confirming something to himself, “right. You’re terrible but I will make you passable,”

Time flies by as he shows her the proper stance and has her swing the wooden sword until she gets it right for so long she has lost track of how many times she’s swung. All she knows is that her arms hurt and she can barely move them.

Thankfully Jaime ended the session for the day despite not getting it right more than once.

Walking down the hallway she ignores the snickers at her sweaty appearance while dressed in men's clothing and holding her wrinkled dress as it drags across the floor. Sansa is starting to think the ‘he’s actually tormenting her’ thing might really work or at the very least her being his squire will have people look down or mock her and in turn underestimating her. It is exactly what she needs to survive even if she feels embarrassed at the open mockery.

Her embarrassment quickly washes away when Joffrey appears storming down the hallway.

“It’s been hours since I called for her to come to the throne room. Why did you not bring her!” he says in his navelly voice.

“Because I was busy,”

“With what?”

“Training my new squire,”

Joffrey laughs, “Your squire? A girl can not be a squire,”

“She is now,”

Joffrey looks like he’s about to burst at Jaimes dry replies. He crosses his arms as if it will make him look tougher.

“I am your king and if I want her in the throne room then she will be taken there,”

“Why does she need to be in the throne room,” Jaime questions.

Sansa doesn’t understand why he’s asking when he clearly knows.

“To teach her a lesson,”

“Oh right I forgot about that. Anyhow no more lessons,”

“What!”
“I said no more lessons,” Jaime repeats slowly.

“How dare yo-”

“How dare I what?”

Joffrey sputters, “My mother-”

“Speaking of, how is my dear twin sister?” he says with a smile.

“...She is fine,” Joffrey says after a moment.

“Great I’ll be seeing you some other time,” Jaime says, stepping past him with Sansa right by his side, “Oh and remember no more lessons, my squire needs to be in good shape, yeah?”

Sansa doesn’t look back once in fear that Joffrey will see her smile.

“How can you talk to him like that?” she says giddy as adrenaline runs through her body at what just happened.

“He’s just my bratty nephew who people only take seriously because he’s my sister son and fathers grandchild,”

Sansa's smile widens and she wonders if her hell with Joffrey is over.

Part 4

Her hell with Joffrey ended and has been over for the past year but her hell with Tyrion has just begun. Or more specifically it truly started on their wedding night.

Why did he have to choose her?

Sansa greets her ‘husband’ and says her goodbyes while sliding her sword into place her grip tight as he speaks to her. Leaving the room she strides towards her training room, her lips pressed tightly together.

She wants nothing more than to throw the day away by slashing at strawmen until her arms hurt. She is thankful today is a slow day instead of the aggressive training he normally puts her through or maybe she’s gotten good enough that swinging a sword for longer than twenty minutes is no longer tiring and painful.

Swinging open the door she lets it swing close and as soon as she pulls out her sword begins her attack on the strawmen.

“What’s on your mind,” Jaime asks his eyebrow raised.

Sansa does not answer.

“Sansa,”

“What,” she says, clipped and turning towards him.

“What is wrong?”

“Why are you so worried? Every lady is a bit dazed after her wonderful wedding night,”

“You and I know this wedding is a farce. Nothing was consummated,” he says his last words sounding like a question.

Sansa’s face twists “no, nothing was consummated. Your beloved brother didn’t rape me. Happy?”

“Something happened,”
“Something is always happening to me!” she bursts dropping her sword to the ground, “someone is always touching me and hittin me and I can do nothing, nothing about it. I couldn’t stop Joffrey, I couldn’t stop Maester Pycelle, I couldn’t stop the Hound, and I couldn’t stop your brother. It’s all because of your family none of this would have happened to me if you all weren’t heartless monsters. You all deserve to burn in hell ,” she says venomously, her face burning.

“Tell me everything,” is Jaime’s only response.

Sinking to the ground she tells him everything.

She tells him about Joffrey groping her whenever he wanted, she tells Jaime about her beatings in such detail she feels like it's happening all over again. She talks about Maester Pycelle touching her all over while she was held down and naked. The Hound terrifying her all the time, sneaking into her room and holding a knife to her throat while demanding she sing him a song.

And she tells him about Tyrion, about last night.

She tells him how she was made to undress, how Tyrion told her she was but a child and that he still wanted her, how he didn’t allow her to hide her nakedness under the covers, how he touched her breasts and made her keep her eyes open. And that her open eyes saw his stiffness for her and that she was petrified waiting for it all to happen but then at the very last moment he told her he would not go through with it.. for now. 

Finally she recounts how Tyrion promised he would not touch her until she wants him too and seemed offended when she asked “and if I never want you to, my lord?”

She may not have been raped that night but her fear, humiliation, and shame from being touched in such a way will not leave her body and mind. Thinking about how she will have to sleep in the same bed as that man until she escapes makes her body curl into itself.

“How does that make you feel Jaime? Knowing your brother did not ‘consummate the marriage’,” she says mockingly, “are you proud your brother is a decent person? When compared to the rest of the Lannisters,”

“No,”

“Then what do you feel,” she says, roughly wiping the tears from her face.

“Shame that I did not protect you when I said I would,”
She scoffs, “then apologize since you feel so much shame,”

He walks towards her and crouches down so they are face to face, “I’m sorry,”

“I didn’t hear you,”

“I’m sorry,”

“Say it again and why you are sorry,”

“I’m sorry that I did not protect you like I promised your mother I would do,”

Her stomach feels cramped and her hands hurt from clenching them, “help me,” she says quietly, “help me leave this place as soon as possible,”

“I heard something that I’m not sure to truly believe but I heard Littlefinger is planning to help you escape,”

“The man who betrayed my father,” Sansa says.

“Yes, he is planning to do so at Joffrey’s wedding where everyone will be distracted,”

“I can not go to him,”

“You won’t because while they are looking for you so you can be smuggled out of king's landing I will be smuggling you onto a boat. Joffrey's wedding is in two months time and until then I will teach you all you need to know to travel home own your own,”

“What would I need to know?”
“How to survive in the woods and how to follow a map or the stars so you are not lost,”

Sansa nods her head, her mood lifting slightly at the thought her escape is coming soon.

“For now you and Tyrion will not share the same room,”

“People will not like that. Your father won’t like it,”
“They will not know,”

Sansa hopes that Jaime will be able to keep her away from Tyrion like he did with Joffrey.

Part 5

And he is able to keep her away from Tyrion. She has no idea what Jaime said to Tyrion but he did not fight her moving to another room and he kept his mouth shut about it. Now any interactions they have is when they are forced to attend parties and such things.

She had felt the two months until she could go home would crawl by but the time flew by so fast only a day is left.

Sansa holds the hairnet with black crystals on it that Dontos had given her. It is beautiful and the silvery hair net is thin and weightless. She likes it but is suspicious, she is suspicious of every gift given to her no matter who it’s from. Everyone in king's landing has an agenda or a goal and with the story he had spun to her about it being magic and giving her revenge for her fathers death and taking her back home, she is sure there is something up with it.

Laying her suspicions to rest she lays down in her bed and takes a vial of liquid to sleep easy tonight. She can not look like she was kept up for any reason last night she must look as she always does.

Sansa smooths down her silver and purple gown made of satin and puts on the hairnet her heart attempting to beat out of her chest.

She walks into the wedding feast and looks into one of the silver trays to see if her face is as calm as she is trying to make it seem. Walking over to a table she settles down waiting for the chaos to eventually begin.

Olenna walks over to her and they talk for a bit before Olenna reaches over and fixes a stray hair on her head. Sansa is confused as not too long ago she had seen her reflection and not one hair was amiss on her head.

But it is no matter, Sansa has other things to think about. She waits for an agonizing hour as she mingles with others who vary from being nice to her and sneering at her ‘marriage’, being a squire, being a daughter's traitor and much more.

Finally the night is shaken up but not in the way she expected because Joffrey has started to choke and his pale face turns a strange red.

“He’s choking,” someone yells.

People move forward to look at the scene only for Joffrey’s mouth to foam and spew vomit as blood begins to fall from his eyes and he collapses to the floor.

Things worsen when something suddenly flings through the balcony into the room and it’s filled with smoke and it doesn’t dispipitate as more are thrown in one after the other. This is the signal to run now.

Instead of running to the godswood like Dontos ordered her to, she runs for the stables. Digging into the hay she pulls out a cloak and two bags. She puts on a tunic, breeches, and boots. Taking the hairnet off she notices an amethyst missing, an amethyst that went missing an hour before Joffrey obviously died from some kind of poison, and only Olenna got close enough to take it from her. Olenna who is Margaery’s grandmother and who was strangely all for Margaery marrying Joffrey despite his obvious cruelty. 

Dontos was telling the truth that  the hairnet is ‘magic’ that will avenge her fathers death.

Smiling she pulls her hair back into a tight pony tail and throws on her cloak and hood. Grabbing her bag she hops on a horse and gallops to the docks.

Stopping before she arrives she gets off her horse and sends him on her way as she practically runs to the docks while being careful to not seem too much in a rush.

Looking around at the boats she sees one with a man who has a small silver pin with a wolf etched into it on the edge of his leather glove.

Striding over she hands him a few coins and he pockets them and takes off the pin also sliding it into his pocket. “Door 23,” he says, not elaborating.

Stepping on to the boat, she makes her way down the hall until she arrives at a door with twenty three on it. Opening the door she sees Jaime sitting there waiting.

“You made it,”

“With no trouble,”

“Good,” he says standing up. He stands in front of her quite as if searching for something to say, “live well lady Stark,”

“I will,” she smiles, “goodbye Ser Jaime,”

“Goodbye,” he says closing the door behind him.

She sets her bag down and twists the lock closed. Sitting on the bed she laughs and laughs until her chest hurts.

She is free from this hell and she will finally be able to go home. She leans back onto the bed and thinks of all the family she will see when she is able to journey home. She imagines her and Arya reuniting, Lysa smiling at seeing her niece, she even imagines Jon being happy to see her when she visits him at the wall.

But she has to help rebuild the north if she wants any of this to come to fruition and no matter what she will succeed and survive as always.

Plus 1

It has been three years since Jaime has seen Sansa. She is eighteen now and to no surprise had begun to rebuild the north with her bastard brother. And from what he’s heard Arya, Rickon, and Bran were discovered alive and returned to the north.

And Jaime, the idiot he is, is about to arrive in winterfell to help fight the others. He’s sure he is not going to be welcomed with open arms but it’s worth a try.

He is proven correct when he’s escorted to stand before the Queen and Jon who is The Hand?

“It has been a long time,” Sansa says, looking taller than life.

“Aye,”

“Is there a reason you're here?” she says her face rigid.

“I heard there was a war against other happening I figured I’d join,”

“What a noble thought but you must remember you are a Lannister,” she says with a cold voice.

“True,”

Her lips quirk up at his response, “my people want your family to die you included,” she states.

“I’m gonna take your word for it,”

Sansa walks towards him and stops in front of him, “you helped me in king's landing. Therefore I will vouch for you and let you fight this battle with us, but if you step out of line,” she warns.

“I’ll be headless,”

“I’m glad you understand,”

 “Of course. After all I am now under your protection,”

She smiles and he smiles back. It's funny how things change.