Chapter Text
It was strange to be alone with Margaery. Usually, when Sansa was asked to accompany the queen-to-be, they were joined by her gaggle of cousins. Even stranger, the two were in Margaery’s chambers in the Maidenvault. Their time together normally consisted of supervised walks through the Red Keep’s gardens or tea with Margaery’s other companions. Somehow, Margaery must have convinced someone to allow her to be alone with Sansa. And she was overjoyed.
The time that Sansa spent with Margaery was a joy in what was otherwise a dull and cruel existence. It was a time where she wasn’t tormented by Joffrey, or the Queen, or the court. She could feel almost like a girl again. The older girl always made her feel comfortable. She wondered what Margaery had in store for her as she grabbed her hand.
“Come, Sansa, let me show you my new dress,” Margaery called over her shoulder as she pulled Sansa farther into her chambers. “It’s simply splendid.” Sansa had no doubt it would be. Margaery always had beautiful gowns. Sansa envied her for that. She had long grown out of most of her dresses. Nevertheless, she let Margaery lead her over to a large, oak wardrobe. Margaery threw open the doors and began rustling through the numerous gowns and slips and other pieces of fine clothing it stored. Finally, with a soft “aha!”, she pulled away, a dress in hand.
Margaery held up her find triumphantly, and Sansa couldn’t help but catch her contagious smile. She peered closer to get a better look at the gown. And what a gown it was. The dress was made of a light green silk, like much of Margaery’s other dresses, but it had fine, silver embroidered flowers and vines sprawling all over it. There was a matching silver sash that wrapped around the waist, too, and the sleeves had bands halfway down made from matching fabric. The dress of course, also had the triangular sleeves Sansa had come to associate with Highgarden fashion. It was truly a stunning dress, and Sansa said as much.
“I’m sure it will look lovely on you, my lady,” Sansa complemented. Margaery laughed.
“Sansa, dear, how many times have I told you! You can simply call me by my name,” the older girl chided. Sansa flushed with embarrassment. The other girl smiled. “But yes, I know it will look lovely on me. However…” she trailed off. “It would please me greatly to see it on you.”
“Me?” Sansa asked, stunned. Margaery laughed again.
“Yes, sweet girl, you.” Sansa laughed nervously in response.
“Are you sure you’d like me to try it on?” Surely this was improper, and Sansa feared what would happen if one of the many hidden eyes in the keep found out.
“Nothing would make me happier. In fact, I insist that you must try it on.”
Sansa had no choice but to acquiesce. Reluctantly, she began to shed the gown she had on. She was sure she was blushing down to her collarbones. “Could you… help me get out of my gown,” she asked softly. Yes. She was definitely blushing now.
But Margaery simply laughed softly again, and moved closer to Sansa. The other girl took her time, gently brushing Sansa’s hair out of the way before Sansa felt her warm hands begin unlacing the ties of the dress she was wearing. Margaery’s hands were much gentler than Sansa was used to, and it felt nice to be taken care of in such a way. Unfortunately Margaery was done all too soon, and the time came for Sansa to step out of her dress. She stood before Margaery, feeling bare despite the fact that she was still wearing her shift and other undergarments. Margaery simply smiled at her. She held out her dress to Sansa, and began to help her into it.
Again, Sansa felt her warm hands and warm breath at the back of her neck as Margaery began to lace it up for her. Sansa shivered lightly at the feeling. After a few brief moments, Margaery stepped away.
“All done,” Margaery exclaimed. “Would you do a twirl for me?”
Sansa obliged, and gave a short spin for the other girl.
“Gorgeous,” Margaery breathed. She was staring at Sansa with a strange intensity. “Come, let me find you a mirror.” Once again, Sansa found herself hand in hand with Margaery as she let herself be led around the room. Eventually, they approached a mirror, and Sansa finally got a good look at herself.
All in all, the dress fit her poorly. She was far too tall for it, and the dress left her shins exposed. Her breasts were too small for the chest of the dress, and it hung loose around her shoulders, but she still felt like a princess with the way Margaery was staring at her. A stray hair fell loose from one of her braids, and Margaery reached out to brush it aside. Sansa’s breath caught.
“I.. I think you’re mistaken. I look like a girl playing dress-up,” she protested. Margaery shushed her gently.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, sweetling. I think you look beautiful in my gown.” Margaery reassured her. The two girls made eye contact in the silence that followed. Unthinking, Sansa leaned downward. Margaery seemed to sense what she wanted, blushed softly, and then raised herself up, meeting Sansa's lips with her own.
The kiss was achingly gentle. It was brief too. Almost too brief. It was over as soon as it began, and the two girls pulled away from each other, breathless. Margaery’s hands came to rest on Sansa’s shoulders as she smiled up at the redhead. Sansa giggled lightly.
“I think I should like to try on more of your gowns if it pleases you this much.”