Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The entire story has been translated by google translator.

.

..

...

....

Sansa looked forward, the Dragon queen was in the center, surrounded by Unsullied and Dothraki, she looked up, their eyes met, sapphire against amethyst, a battle of gazes. She had lost, but she would not lower her head.

"Sansa, of the Stark house, you are accused of attempted murder, conspiracy and treason, how do you plead?" The loud and clear voice resounded throughout the clearing, the people of Winterfell watching everything. Her brother was being held, he had been disarmed and they had been separated.

"Guilty" I look at everyone's faces, her people, the one who had supported her in everything. "But I don't want them to follow in my footsteps, fight for what I thought was right, and I still believe that we don't need any more crazy kings in the world" her eyes focused on Daenerys. "And you, Queen Dragon, I want you to know that, after everything you tried to avoid it, you could not bend my spirit" a smile furrowed her face, while the beautiful face of the crazy queen wrinkled, as a sign of anger and frustration. “And I want you to know something, no matter what you do, who you threaten, who you kill, people will never be happy with you. You are not a good queen, and you never will be.

She looked one last time at her people, her brother and her enemies, and raised her eyes to heaven. -Oh, father, we will finally meet, mother, Robb, Rickon, Bran, Arya, we will be together again. -she closed her eyes, and she relaxed,

"Dracarys" she heard, and the flames soon enveloped her, but she did not feel heat, she did not feel pain, she only felt happiness, and how it overwhelmed her. -I wish everything had been different-

She opened her eyes, tired, "Where am I?" -She looked around her, it was a large room, decorated in black and red, and a large dragon, panic invaded her, had she not died and instead she had been imprisoned by Daenerys? She stood up, her legs trembling and weak, looked at her hands, pale, massaged her legs and stood up, she went to the window.

It was King's Landing, but it looked different, with no trace of houses destroyed by fire. A shriek was heard, accustomed -or adapted- to the unbearable noise, she did not flinch, she observed through the window a pair of dragons flying together, without a rider in sight, they were beautiful, and larger than Drogon and Rhaegal, the dragons. of Daenerys.

The larger of the two was red, huge and thin, its scales glistening in the sun, while the second was smaller, with yellow scales and apparently younger.
The door behind her rang, and soon she was overwhelmed with maids, dressed in red and white aprons, they walked around the room, cleaning and tidying, one of them approached her, bowed her head and said.

"Princess, her bath is ready" -Princess? She-she began to hyperventilate, walking to the polished silver mirror, her reflection showed her something she didn't expect to see, short, with silver hair tied in a braid, and those violet eyes that she hated so much. She started to get dizzy. "Princess, are you alright?" They asked, - What's going on? Who was she? Except for the color of her hair and eyes, did not resemble Daenerys in features. - "Princess Rhaenyra?" she turned her face, to respond to the call by inertia. And she began to understand everything. -Only this could happen to her, to whom she had offended so much in life that they had decided to return her to the past, and worse, to be an ancestor of that crazy queen who had killed her- A lock of hair slipped, silver and silky, behind her ear. -Damn the gods-, that they should curse her with a new charge, she would not let herself be killed again, less by the fire of a dragon, she would live, fight and get ahead. This dance of dragons would just be another game.

....

...

..

.

Chapter Text

Years have passed since Sansa awoke in the body of Rhaenyra, and although the Dance of Dragons has come to an end, the echoes of war still resonate in every corner of the Seven Kingdoms. The skies no longer blaze with fire, but pain and tragedy persist in the hearts of survivors. For Sansa, now known as Rhaenyra, victory has been bittersweet, a triumph tainted by the loss of innocent and guilty lives alike.

After the war, King's Landing has plunged into a period of reconstruction. The city's ruins still smolder as citizens attempt to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives. Rhaenyra, now queen, faces the monumental challenge of restoring peace and stability to a fractured and grieving realm.

However, the weight of the crown is only part of the burden Rhaenyra carries. Over the years, she has had to adapt to her new role, her new identity. She has embraced the roles of mother, lover, and ruler with determination, but the ghost of the past, or the future, never leaves her.

Every day is a struggle to reconcile her old life as Sansa Stark with the reality of being Rhaenyra Targaryen. Memories of her family and home in Winterfell constantly haunt her, reminding her of the price she has had to pay for her new position. She often finds herself caught in the duality of her existence, fighting to find a balance between her old and new self.

Despite her efforts to leave her past behind, or her future, Sansa cannot escape the shadow of what might have been. She wonders if the decisions she made in her previous life inevitably led to this reality or if there was another way to avoid the destiny that now consumes her.

In her quest to figure out how to confront this new reality, Rhaenyra clings to the hope that someday she may find the peace she so desperately craves. But in the meantime, she immerses herself in the duties and responsibilities of her reign, determined to build a better future for the Seven Kingdoms, even if it means facing the demons of her past.

Throughout the years following the Dance of Dragons, Sansa, now embodying the role of Rhaenyra, found herself battling the internal demons she carried with her from her life as Sansa Stark. The emotional scars and past traumas related to love and trust haunted her, affecting both her emotional well-being and her ability to establish new relationships.

Her connection with Harwin Strong, the man with whom she had shared intimacy and had given birth to her three eldest children, was marked by deep love, but also by the ominous shadow of Laenor Velaryon, her official husband. Laenor's constant presence, although he never consummated their marriage, stirred an internal conflict she could barely manage.

Harwin's death in battle was a devastating blow to Sansa. The loss of the man she had loved deeply left an impossible void to fill. Despite her efforts to move forward, the pain of her loss never completely faded. She found herself trapped between the desire to honor his memory and the fear of never being able to open her heart to another man again.

The tragedy continued with Laenor's death. Although their relationship was never one of true love, his loss left Sansa with a feeling of emptiness and regret. She desperately clung to his memory, longing for what they never had the chance to experience together: a marriage based on love and complicity.

With each attempt to seek solace in the arms of another man, Sansa faced the ghosts of her past. The traumas and insecurities affected her physically and emotionally, making each encounter an internal struggle between the desire for intimacy and the fear of pain. Despite her courage and determination, the weight of her past continued to weigh heavily on her, reminding her of wounds that would never fully heal.

In her search for comfort and stability, Rhaenyra found refuge in the arms of her uncle, Daemon. Despite warnings and criticism from the court, she surrendered to this forbidden passion, resulting in the birth of two more children. Her relationship with Daemon was a complicated and dangerous web, woven with threads of desire, secrets, and divided loyalties. Although their union was marked by the shadow of taboo and disapproval, they found in each other mutual solace and unwavering support.

The forbidden love between Rhaenyra and Daemon was a burning flame that illuminated dark nights and filled turbulent days with a glow of hope. Despite the risks and dangers lurking in the shadows, their connection was a source of strength that sustained them in the most difficult moments.

Now, as Sansa reflects on the tumultuous years that have led her to this moment, she realizes the weight of her legacy in the Seven Kingdoms. She has been a fierce leader, defying expectations and fighting for her right to the throne. She has been a loving mother, sacrificing everything for the well-being of her children. And she has been a passionate lover, surrendering to the fire of forbidden love in search of comfort and companionship.

But her legacy is also marked by tragedy and sacrifice. Every victory won on the battlefield was paid for with blood and suffering, and every decision made in the halls of power left scars on the heart of the Seven Kingdoms.

Sansa had lost everyone she loved. The war had taken its toll, leaving her with only her two youngest children, whose eyes reflected the trauma and anguish of growing up in a world marked by violence and betrayal. As time passed, Sansa found herself increasingly isolated, surrounded by shadows and whispers of conspiracy that haunted her day and night.

A sense of paranoia consumed her, making every shadow seem like an enemy, every whisper a plot for her downfall. Despite her efforts to stand strong, she felt the weight of the world resting on her shoulders, threatening to crush her under its burden.

Then, on a dark and stormy night, Sansa fell exhausted onto her bed, her mind weary from the constant struggle against the internal and external demons that plagued her. And in this life, she died in her sleep.

When Sansa woke up in her new body as Joanna Lannister, it took a few moments before she truly grasped the magnitude of what had happened. She found herself looking around in bewilderment, her mind clouded with confusion and disbelief.

Initially, everything seemed blurry and distant, as if she were viewing the world through a veil. The luxurious furnishings and finely embroidered tapestries in the room didn't seem familiar, and the sensation of being trapped in a dream clung to her tightly.

But as seconds passed, reality began to sink into her mind like a heavy slab. She started to notice the details: the softness of the sheets beneath her body, the scent of incense wafting in the air, the feel of the bedclothes around her.

Then, like a bolt of lightning piercing through the clouds, the truth struck Sansa with overwhelming force. She was alive. Not as Sansa Stark, the young noblewoman from Winterfell, nor as Rhaenyra Targaryen, the fierce queen who had won a war, but as Joanna Lannister, a woman whose life and experiences were entirely foreign to her.

The shock of this realization left her breathless, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt as if she were adrift in a sea of uncertainty, with no clear direction to steer towards. At least as Rhaenyra, she knew she could do something to change the future, or the past? This was all too confusing.

A fire of indignation burned deep within her. How dare the gods toy with her fate in this way? To send her to live another life, in another body, without her consent or understanding? Sansa seethed with the injustice of it all. She had endured so much in her past life as Sansa Stark, she had fought and lost, but she had always held onto hope that one day she would find peace. And now what? Was she trapped in an endless cycle of rebirth?

Resentment towards the gods grew inside her like a furious storm. She shouted at them in silence, demanding answers she knew would never come. What had she done to deserve this punishment? Why were they condemning her to wander eternally, without rest or peace?

But amidst her anger and frustration, a spark of determination began to burn within her. If the gods thought they could control her fate, they were mistaken. Though trapped in this new body as Joanna Lannister, Sansa refused to give up. She would fight against the forces that sought to dominate her, she would find a way to reclaim her life and her freedom, even if it meant defying the gods themselves.

With that fiery determination as her guide, Sansa rose from the bed and prepared to face the challenges that lay ahead in her new life as Joanna Lannister. Because, though the gods may have condemned her to this fate, she refused to accept it without a fight. She had already changed one life, had led Rhaenyra to become a woman history would never forget. There was nothing stopping her from doing it again.

With every step she took towards the uncertain future stretching out before her, Sansa pledged to herself to live each moment with passion and courage. She had learned from her past experiences and was determined not to repeat the same mistakes again. Instead of resigning herself to her fate, she would challenge it with all her might.

Though the gods had condemned her to live over and over again, Sansa refused to be consumed by bitterness and resentment. Instead, she chose to embrace each new opportunity as a gift, determined to live her life to the fullest and make a difference in the world around her. She knew a little about Joanna's history, loved by her husband and dying in childbirth, she had to avoid it somehow... this time, she would not die.