#theirmadness: Sansa

[xxgotthedevilinsidexx]

@theirmadness Asked:

no one wearing a crown comes in the name of peace. // from sansa @ cersei

【༶•⛧┈♛】   ――――    Cersei's   lips   curled   into   a   thin   smile.   ❝   You're   learning,   little   dove.   ❞   She   said,   swirling   the   wine   in   her   goblet.   ❝   But   peace   can   take   many   forms.   Sometimes   it's   achieved   through   strength,   through   showing   one's   power.   Those   who   wear   crowns   must   concern   themselves   with   power.   ❞   She   took   a   sip   of   wine,   her   eyes   never   leaving   Sansa's   face.   ❝   The   game   of   thrones   leaves   no   room   for   idealism.   ❞ 

A   chill   wind   swept   through   the   courtyard,   causing   the   torches   to   flicker.   Cersei   pulled   her   crimson   cloak   tighter   around   her   shoulders.

❝   The   only   peace   for   Winterfell   now…   ❞   Cersei   replied   coolly.   ❝   Is   the   kind   that   ensures   House   Lannister's   supremacy.   It's   steel   and   gold   that   rule   the   Seven   Kingdoms,   not...empty   words   of   honor   or   love.   ❞   Cersei   finished,   her   voice   dripping   with   contempt.   ❝   Your   father   never   understood   that.   It's   why   he   lost   his   head.   ❞   She   set   down   her   goblet   with   a   sharp   clink.

Cersei   laughed,   a   harsh   sound   devoid   of   mirth.   ❝   Remember   this,   little   dove.   In   this   world,   there   are   only   two   types   of   people:   lions   and   sheep.   The   sheep   always   end   up   as   prey.   And   you   must   decide   which   you   will   be.   ❞

Cersei's   eyes   glittered   dangerously.   ❝   I   am   a   lioness,   child.   I   take   what   I   want,   when   I   want   it.   The   weak   exist   to   serve   the   strong.   ❞   In   the   flickering   light,   Cersei's   features   seemed   to   sharpen,   her   beauty   taking   on   a   predatory   edge.

[ravarui]

@theirmadness continued from here

"Do you think it should, Lady Sansa?" Maybe in the beginning he had searched for a reason to justify his actions, but not anymore. There was no point in asking for forgiveness. The only person who could forgive him was himself.

Still. there was one oath he intended to keep. The oath he had sworn to her mother. To bring her back. Or rather, keep her safe. Given there was no home for her to turn back to. Winterfell was in the hands of the Boltons now and her mother and brother were slain at the twins as far as he knew.

"You can't please them all. No matter what you do. No matter who you are. I am sure you have found out about that yourself by now, haven't you?"

[paralyziingfears]

sc. / @theirmadness.

[  ....  ]         having  a  hot  meal  and  warm  shelter  seemed  to  be  a  privilege  nowadays  and  brienne  was  thankful  for  it.  sitting  across  from  sansa,  she  could  tell  that  something  was  bothering  her,  but  she  couldn't  quite  pinpoint  what  that  was.  brienne  straightened  her  posture  and  cleared  her  throat  a  bit,      ❝     lady  sansa    ...     is  something  troubling  you    ?    ❞

[knownasbeacon]

⠀⠀〝 if this is what you wish, then i shall. 〞

she has participated in her fair share of tourneys, though never once held the honor of a favor. least of all by someone of nobility. of standing. of name. by a woman.

for the first time she’d ever been acknowledged by another in this capacity was when she’d been appointed a member of the rainbow guard for king renly. to be seen by another for what she was capable of, by her abilities rather than her looks alone was a moment that reminded her of her purpose.

and yet, it being sansa, that’s the one to give her such favor births an entire new flame in the pit of her chest. a flame that had never seriously been fanned since meeting the wolf queen.

being on the receiving end of every jest her entire life turned her away towards means that ostracized her from that part of life. yet the biggest part of her life that continued to burn in her chest no matter how hard she tried to quench the fire.

it only took serving by lady sansa’s side that things had begun to make sense. shared looks in crowded rooms, quiet conversations when it was just the two of them, ofttimes even unspoken conversations held the loudest voices.

her entire life, sansa had dreamt of a handsome knight who would swoop her off her feet. a knight to protect her. a knight to save her. the gods had sent her that knight. twice as brave and strong as any man. and oh, twice as beautiful. brienne of tarth didn't see herself as that, but sansa's heart skipped several beats every time they met those precious jewels that were her eyes. breathless, flushed...

foolishly enamoured by the knight who had sworn an oath to her. sworn her life to her. my sword is yours, sansa stark. she remembers those words. she wanted so badly to say she wanted her heart, not just her sword. sansa laughed when they both realised they had been staring into each other's eyes for a little bit too long. would the gods forgive her? would the gods care, that she loved another woman?

❝ i know you will win. there is no finer knight in all of the seven kingdoms. this, i know. ❞ with a heavy heart, her hand drops from brienne's, her skin tingling where they had touched. ❝ will you join me for supper? the cook surprised me with rabbit's stew. ❞

sansa sits back down, pulling up the chair next to her. sitting by her side at the high table was a high honour, but she cared only for the fact she'd sit next to brienne. tomorrow was a big day, and she wanted to enjoy every second she could spend in the knight's presence, before the tourney began and she was far too busy.

[worthyheir]

 tagged by: stole it tagging: @theirmadness (Sansa) @drmfyres @packsurvivcs @korzionseteski @perzysembar (Lynaera) + whoever else

BOLD all that applies || italics what applies on occasion

001.ㅤ 𝗘𝗬𝗘𝗦.

avoids eye contact when nervous, maintains eye contact when nervous. avoids eye contact due to being neurodivergent, enjoys eye contact as a means to read and convey emotion. looks down when emotional, looks up when emotional. cries openly, wipes tears quickly, suppresses tears. wandering gaze when lost in thought, holds gaze while thinking. seeks out eye contact for reassurance, seeks out eye contact to gauge enthusiasm during conversations, eyes move constantly during conversation. expressive eyes, emotions only evident through eyes, uses eye contact to intimidate. looks up while thinking, looks down while thinking.

002.ㅤ 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗦.

clasps behind back, rests in lap, fidgets with clothes. twiddles thumbs, chews at nails/skin, pushes back cuticles, draws patterns on table/counter surfaces. animated gestures while speaking, only gestures to emphasize, utilizes sign language, speaks only through sign. callouses, scars, smooth, wrinkled, worn, soft, delicate, boney, slender, thick, veiny. touches others while speaking, reaches out while laughing, reaches out to comfort others, reaches out to seek comfort. places face in hands when exasperated, places face in hands when exhausted, places palms over eyes to hide when overwhelmed, rests chin in hands. taps fingers when impatient, taps fingers when nervous, taps fingers while thinking. scratches scalp, strokes chin, rubs back of head, toys with objects around them, runs fingers over surfaces while walking by.

003.ㅤ 𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗧𝗛.

chews lip, chews at inside of cheek, licks lips, bites tongue, chews on straws. resting frown, resting smile, neutral resting expression, resting pout. grinds teeth, flexes jaw. covers mouth when laughing, covers mouth when shocked, covers mouth when concerned, hands to lips while thinking, covers mouth when chewing, chews with mouth closed, chews with mouth open. smirks, grins, subtle smile, wide smiles, sad smiles, intimidating smiles, menacing grins. openly smiles, tries to suppress smiles, bares teeth when angry, lips quiver when emotional. stutters, speaks quickly, speaks slowly, good pronunciation, poor pronunciation, moderate pronunciation. purses lips, sucks in lips, holds mouth open when shocked or confused.

004.ㅤ 𝗟𝗘𝗚𝗦.

bounces leg when nervous. draws knees to chest when sitting, draws knees to chest as a means of comfort, sits on knees, sits with legs crisscrossed, sits with legs spread open in chairs, crosses legs when sitting in chairs, sits with one leg folded under the other. places feet on furniture, never places feet on furniture, sits on counters, sits on desks, sits on tables, sits on edge of seat, sits hunched over with forearms on knees, arches one knee up, sits on the arm of chairs/couches, feet on dashboard, swings legs back and forth when sitting somewhere elevated. wiggles toes when nervous, wiggles toes as a general tick. shuffles feet, kicks foot into ground, stomps feet. loud footsteps, quiet footsteps, silent footsteps.

005.ㅤ 𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗥.

runs fingers through hair, tugs at hair, picks at scalp, chews on hair, twists locks of hair while thinking or nervous, smooths out locks of hair while thinking or nervous. prefers hair out of face, prefers long hair, prefers short hair. wears hair back, keeps hair down, smooths back hair. plays with other’s hair while talking, plays with own hair while talking, strokes hair to comfort others, likes having hair stroked for their own comfort, braids others’ hair while talking, braids own hair while talking. flips hair out of face, pushes hair out of face, leaves hair alone even when falling into face.

[ravarui]

Starter for @theirmadness for Sansa from Cersei In response to this post (Not Accepting)

If things would be different Cersei might feel bad for the young girl, but right now? No, her own families survival was her priority and sacrifices had to be made. If said sacrifices were done on the back of the young Stark, then this was simply how things were. The world was a cruel place, especially for girls. The sooner Sansa would understand this the better for her.

The queen regent had summoned her not to long ago and a false smile appeared on her lips when she was brought to her. "Little dove, how wonderful of you to join me." Not that she had had any choice in that matter and they both knew it. The older gestured to the chair across from her. "Come, sit with me." The table between them was holding several fruits and sweet pastries, as well as wine and water to drink.

[king7doms]

'I don't pray anymore.' She had said as much, so long ago, to her then husband Tyrion Lannister. By all laws, technically, unless he had passed in his disappearance, he still was, and her marriage to Ramsay had been a farce. It did not scrub her clean though, take away the memories of what had happened to her in the past several years. The years since she and Jon had gone their separate ways, departing Winterfell for their own destinies: she to be Joffrey Baratheon's wife and queen, and him to be a man of the Night's Watch.

How the world had changed in such a short time.

The North had been hers, by right, unless Bran returned. All hope of that was long since lost. Jon was chosen, by the men of the North, who made all the decisions. It was difficult, losing her birthright and home once more. How many times would she have to lose before she felt even a minor victory? His words take her out of her thoughts, staring at the Weirwood tree as though it might have answers for questions she had long since stopped asking.

"You were raised here, the same as I was." But the North would want a King to lead them. A King named Stark would have been ideal, but the son of Eddard Stark would do well enough. She did not resent Jon, not any longer, for his parentage. It had been many years since she had thought of him with anything less than hope to see him again, and even the slight resentment as him being chosen over her was not enough to turn her against him. "This is our home. We wouldn't have it now if it weren't for you and the men you brought." And the men she had called from the Vale, with Lord Baelish's aid, who had truly turned the tide. "Why do you think I've been avoiding you?"

for @king7doms, with love. ♡

jon wears the proverbial crown because he must; the north is his home. it would always be his home. but he never wished for any of this. after his resurrection, jon only wanted peace. he was done with war, with leading. but it seemed that the gods were not done with him, just yet, and what other choice did he have? mostly, he chose to do it for her. sansa deserved to have winterfell back. and he would do all of it, for her. she, was the lady of winterfell. the rightful heir.

but laws and customs would have the people declare him, king. he'd been looking for her, having missed her in the hall earlier, and knew that there would be only one of two places she would be at. his boots sunk heavily into the snow as he walked towards the godswood, her red hair standing out amidst all the white surrounding them. she isn't praying. her eyes are open, but he approaches her slowly, regardless. he almost never visited the godswood, himself. he had never been a godly man. somehow, now he had died and come back, it felt...

strange. ❝ i missed you at the table, this morn. ❞ hand resting on the pommel of his greatsword. ❝ it feels as if you've been avoiding me. you know, no matter what they call me, winterfell will always be yours, right? this place... it was never my home. it's yours. ❞

[ravarui]

Random HC generator

Shanks likes to eat straight coffee beans.

Shanks can't handle criticism.

Shanks almost drank the lethal dosage of caffine once.

Shanks has been to prison.

Shanks has chronic nightmares.

Shanks is smart but also very stupid.

Shanks has not showered in two and a half weeks.

Shanks sleeps in until noon.

Shanks can't sit in a chair properly.

Shanks knocks people over by hugging them.

Tony gets into Twitter discourse.

If the sorce media was a musical, Tony would be the one character that asks why everyone is singing.

Tony forgets to eat sometimes.

Tony has not showered in two and a half weeks.

Tony needs a nightlight to sleep.

Tony wakes up on November 1st and starts decorating for Christmas.

Tony has fallen asleep at their desk while working in the middle of the night.

Tony nearly drowned in a river as a child.

Tony desperately needs a hug but doesn't know it and refuses to ask for one.

Tony listens to 80s music.

Cersei is very good at walking in platform heels.

Cersei is a cat person

It would not take much for Cersei to turn evil.

Cersei will remind others in the midst of chaos how good they're being.

Cersei will go feral. Watch out.

Cersei has a diary that they write in with a glittery gel pen.

Cersei doesn't know how to say they're sorry.

Cersei is in your house.

Cersei cringes at their middle school yearbook photos.

Cersei set a public school on fire and got away with it.

John could easily survive The Hunger Games.

John is smart but also very stupid.

John uses two-in-one shampoo and conditioner.

John can beat you up, but wont.

If John likes someone, they will give them a pretty rock.

John has not showered in two and a half weeks.

John nearly drowned in a river as a child.

John doesn't own a single pair of matching socks.

John is unemployed.

John has been to prison.

Tagged by: No one. I stole it c:

Tagging: @alyafae (For Pepper and Rhaenys) @theirmadness (For Dany and Sansa) @ofcrimsonenchantresses @smertzimy @medicus-felini and whoever hasn't done it yet!

[worthyheir]

@theirmadness (Sansa) / vaguely plotted starter

The North is cold, but he has not found it unwelcoming. His time here is likely drawing to a close, the treaty with Cregan Stark and the North as solid as the vows that Cregan's father had sword to Jace's grandsire so many years prior. His bannerman would come when called, though the winter would keep them at bay, it's approach sooner rather than later. Vermax would be furious if the snow grew heavier on his wings, already shaking them out of the cold each time Jace went to the dragon.

It was there he was headed when he stopped, seeing Lady Sansa and her direwolf. They were in the books, but as this was his first journey to the North, so seeing the direwolves in person was different. Of course, Targaryens had dragons, their own connection to the old magic of Valyria, in their blood, but the Starks and the northerners had their own magic as well, if Cregan was to be believed. Why would they build a 700 foot wall of ice otherwise? "Lady Sansa." He said, inclining his head, a small smile on his face. "I had yet to see your direwolf." He added, looking to the animal that stood at her side, a fierce protector: he was sure the wolf would tear into anyone that threatened her, no matter how docile she looked standing at Sansa's side. "I trust you are both doing well, despite the chill in the air." The chill that they are accustomed, and he has oft been teased about noting in his time here.

[ravarui]

The reactions towards their union had been just as he had expected them to be. His father had been pleased that Jaime had obeyed him. That he had given up his place in the Kingsguard like Tywin had suggested when Jaime had returned to the capitol. The snide comment that a pretty young girl had seemingly changed his mind had gotten ignored. Tywin didn't need to know about the vow he had made to Catelyn Stark and that he only did this to keep Sansa safe.

Cersei had raged when word reached her and Jaime couldn't remember a time when he had ever seen his sister so very angry. His cheek had stung for quiet a while after she had slapped him the moment they had been in private. And there had been a second when he had thought she might try to claw his eyes out as well. Any attempt at an explanation had fallen on deaf ears. On his way out she had thrown a goblet after him and his ears had been ringing when she had shrieked at him to Enjoy the young traitor cunt!

Lovely as always his twin had been. But hadn't she rejected him first? Fucked Lancel Lannister, Osney, Osfryd and Osmund Kettleblack during his absence if he were to belief Tyrion. Maybe things would've been salvagable in the beginning, but not anymore.

Tyrion had given him a knowing look and he seemed the only one to truly wish him nothing but good. He also seemed relief, for what reason Jaime didn't know, but it had been his younger brothers suggestion that he should spend more time with his wife to be in the time before their wedding. Get to know her better and make her feel at ease. Gain her trust. And most important: Protect her. With him at her side he knew anyone would think twice of trying to harm her.

The wedding ceremony itself was far grander than he had expected it to be. His Lord Father truly must have been in a good mood, to have his first born son to finally accept to become the Lord of Casterly Rock, to leave the Kingsguard (honorably, after being declared unfit to serve due to his injury) even if he married a traitors daughter.

But what mattered it that her family was declared a traitor when they were dead and she was the key to the North. For she was the last of the Starks and any of their children would have a claim to Winterfell and Casterly Rock alike, even as born Lannisters. The Lannister family would hold the most power in the seven kingdoms with this union.

And weren't they quiet a pair? The Kingslayer and the traitors daughter. The rumors would never stop. But people had been snickering behind his back for years anyway.

The doors to the Sept open and when he sees Sansa he's stunned by her beauty for a moment. She truly was a sight to behold and he wanted nothing more than to bash Joffreys face in, for looking so smug and openly leering at her as he handed her over to him. It was a good thing he hadn't heard what the boy had whispered in Sansas ear, or he would've done so.

Her whispered words bring a smile to his lips. "Thank you, my lady. But it's nothing in comparison to your beauty." He whispers back before taking hold of her hand as the ceremony begins.

While the Septon drones on and on, he only has eyes for the young Stark, even if he's well aware of the glare Cersei is giving him. If looks could kill he would've dropped dead a long time again.

Jaime had once said that he didn't want a wife, didn't want children or be the heir of Casterly Rock. He had been content to be a knight, to be a Kingsguard even. He had always loved fighting, still did, despite loss of his hand forcing him to re-learn everything. But re-learn he did. Because how should he keep his promise of protection when he couldn't hold or wield a sword properly?

Lost in his thoughts he had nearly missed his cue to place the mantle over Sansas shoulders, and when she rose he had planned on keeping the kiss short. But his now wife had seemingly other plans and he gladly went along with it. Their kiss a bit longer than it was supposed to be.

When they parted the crowd had clapped, making way for them as he lead her out of the sept, ignoring any look his sister was giving him on purpose. She could rage all she wanted. If Jaime was certain of one thing, then that Tywin would make sure she wouldn't hinder the feast, or their parting towards Casterly Rock in a few days after their wedding.

The feast itself was also grand, and he spotted several highborn nobles who had arrived from further away than he had expected. Tywin truly wanted to know everyone that the last of the Starks had now become a Lannister.

With two cups of wine placed in front of them, Jaime placed his hand over Sansas, giving her a reassuring squeeze and warm smile. He had caught the glances Joffrey had given Sansa now and then. His son nephew didn't even try to be subtle.

The Kingslayer leaned closer to his now wife. "You have nothing to fear about him. I wont allow him to cause you any harm." Be it physical or mental. His words are accompanied by a kiss to Sansas cheek and out of the corner of his eye he sees how his sister gets up at the display of affection right in front of her.

sansa grabbed hold of the arm he offered her, keeping a steady pace next to the commander of the kingsguard as they returned to the red keep. or, as sansa saw it: her prison. she was little more than a pretty bird, kept in a gilded cage. the hound was right when he had given her that petname. she was a little bird, one who couldn't even sing...

she tried to hold back her laughter when he said that, however. they both knew it had nothing to do with bravery. but, she knew what he really meant by that. marrying a lannister, after everything that they had done and taken from her family... would the north ever forgive her? would they ever see her as one of their own, again? sansa was of the mind that it mattered very little what the north thought. she was the only stark left alive. she had to do what was necessary to survive. ❝ a very smart man told me that one must fight with whatever means one has to survive, ❞ that smart man being his little brother. that was just the sort of thing that tyrion would say. she maintained a pleasant conversation with him as they walked. sansa found that it was easy to talk to ser jaime. he was pleasant, charming, and witty. he had a very nice smile, and he looked so dashing when the sun hit his golden hair.

when they reached her chambers, sansa let go of his arm so she could turn to him, a smile on her lips. ❝ thank you, ser jaime. i look forward to seeing you again. ❞ she thought about it for a moment, chewing on her lower lip before she, once again, tiptoed slightly so she could press a kiss to his cheek. she entered her chambers with a smile on her lips, and immediately, shae looked very suspicious.

❝ what are you smirking about, hmm? ❞ sansa actually giggled.

their marriage must happen before the king's...

so, everything moved quite fast. at least, it felt that way to sansa.

shae had been happy when she told her the news. but then, she had brought up a problem sansa had not thought of: the queen. as much as she hated gossip, sansa was aware of the rumours in court. and the rumour that had gotten her father beheaded and named a traitor, in the first place. sansa didn't have any thoughts on the matter. it did not matter to her. not until now. and, of course, the nature of cersei's relationship to jaime would be an issue now. she was terrified of that.

anything that put her in cersei's sight terrified her. but what choice did she have? she wouldn't go back now, simply out of fear of cersei.

shae and the other handmaidens were fussing over her dress behind her back. she has her hair styled as most ladies in court do. the dress itself is beautiful. when sansa looks at herself in the mirror, she does smile. she looks beautiful. but she is terrified. she keeps fussing with her hands, her nails biting into the palm of her hands. she had spent quite a bit of time with jaime since the announcement of their union.

the more time she spent in his presence, the more besotted she became with him. ser jaime was an easy man to like. was he putting on the charms to get her to feel at ease with him? maybe. shae told her not to trust him fully. you can never trust a man fully. but sansa... likes jaime lannister. it's a thought that fills her with excitement and dread. is she a traitor? is she betraying the memory of her family?

they're not here any more. you are. sansa lifts her chin up, and she nods at shae when she asks her if she's ready. she's not. but the sooner that she is jaime's wife, the sooner she can breathe again. soon, they could leave for casterly rock. she could build a home and a life there, away from joffrey, away from the queen. away from all of it.

but of course, her torment was not yet over...

sansa felt bile in her throat when she stepped outside her room and joffrey was waiting for her, right there. he'd come to escort her to the sept. to walk her down the aisle. because, of course he had. she had to smile and pretend as if she was honoured. holding his arm as she walked down the aisle made her feel as if she was going to vomit...

she didn't. all she focused on was how handsome ser jaime looked, standing there, in his golden clothes, his golden hand glimmering in the sunlight that came in through the windows. she smiled when they locked eyes, and when she was handed over to the elder lannister, she didn't even hear whatever snide comment joffrey made. he did not matter in that moment. all that did matter, was her golden lion.

❝ you look breathtaking, ser jaime. ❞

they were all there. all her tomenters. the queen. all of joffrey's little minions. but none of them really mattered. she took jaime's arm and stood at the altar, nervous, excited, happy. when he placed his cloak around her, she was embraced by his scent, and she felt, for the first time since she had left winterfell... safe. truly, safe. it felt as if nothing could touch her as long as she had jaime lannister. she looked at him, and she felt as if the world stopped on its axis. she knew the words.

knew what she said, knew what she was doing... but it wasn't until ser jaime wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips for the very first time, that she felt like she was really present. sansa melts into him, her hands cupping his cheeks, as she kissed him back.

sansa stark is now sansa lannister.

and when she breaks the kiss to gaze upon her husband, her icy blue eyes are full of nothing but genuine affection and adoration.

[ravarui]

The fact she reaches for his golden hand with zero hesitation, touches it as if it would be his normal one. It means more to him than he likes to admit. It's what he wished Cersei would've done when he had returned, but he had only been met with rejection. Rejection and she had even blamed him. Told him he had been to late. As if it had been his choice to get captured, to loose his hand. As if he hadn't done everything to get back to her, even strangling his very own cousin.

He rises again with her help and this time he gives her a genuine smile. Glad to see her somewhat happy. And to think it was because of him. How long had it been since someone had been happy to see him?

"I do." And it was as much of a promise to her, as it was to himself. Those vows he would keep. No matter what. The vows that would allow him to keep a slight sliver of honor and give him a peace of his mind.

"Of course my lady." He could hardly refuse anyway. And he hoped that the presence at her side would deter anyone who wished any ill on her. He offered his good arm to her, waiting for her to take it before he started to escort her back into the Red Keep, towards her chambers.

"You're very brave, Lady Sansa. To suggest such a union in the first place." Not because she would need to fear him, but because he knew how it probably hurt her. After everything his family had done to her, himself included even if he hadn't mistreated her personally, and she would still marry a Lannister. A cripple no less, given his missing hand.

And while his father would be more than pleased about this whole ordeal, he had a feeling that Cersei would be furious. Even when she had rejected him, she would not be happy to hear about him marrying. A marriage that would also have him leave Kings Landing for good, for he would be the new Lord of Casterly Rock.

it's such a silly thing, but when he kisses her knuckles?

sansa blushes. she feels like a child, unable to stop her body from reacting to such a simple gesture. but it was very chivalrous of him. one-handed or not, ser jaime was one of the most handsome men in court. possibly one of the most handsome men she had ever met. she'd dare argue he was more dashing than loras, whom had also been her promise of freedom, not long ago... ser loras was now promised to the queen regent, and his beautiful sister, to joffrey.

as much as she had been glad to be rid of joffrey, she felt bad that another woman would have to endure him. still, margaery seemed better equipped to deal with him. her grandmother was a force of nature. she wants to ask him about her mother. he had been the last person she knew of to have seen her before her death. did she seem well? did she send her love? sansa's heart ached as she thought of the late catelyn stark. she was ripped out of her grief by his action.

ser jaime got down on one knee, and sansa couldn't help the surprise on her face. right now, even with his golden hand, he was the perfect image of a knight. down on one knee, holding her hand, promising to her, that he would protect her. it was almost like a song came to life.

stupid girl. life isn't like a song. sansa's heart still fluttered, and she offered him a smile. ❝ you are very much the picture of the knight i was told you are right now, ser jaime. ❞ sansa is gentle as she grabs hold of his golden hand around the wrist. it's such a soft touch. the metal feels cool and it's a little startling at first, but she doesn't mind it so much. she gently uses her grip to help him back to his feet.

❝ you have now made promises to two starks. i hope you intend on keeping them. ❞ her eyes gleamed, the ice seeming to melt. now, she looks like the child she still is at heart. a child who was forced to grow up much too soon. she gives his hand a squeeze, before letting go of him. ❝ will you escort me back inside? ❞ the wind was becoming a little too chilly for her liking, and now, she wanted to talk to shae about all of this. her handmaiden hadn't been too happy at the idea of her marrying tyrion... she wonders how she'd feel about jaime.

[ravarui]

The hug startles him and he stiffens before carefully returning it. And there was the gentle, fleeting kiss against his jaw. He wonders for a moment just how long it had been since someone had touched him in such an innocent manner. She didn't need to do anything like this. They both knew that their marriage would be nothing but a farce. A way to ensure she would be able to get out of Kings Landing. And yet she did.

Her next words did bring a soft smile to his face. As if she truly wanted this. But from her point of view he might be the lesser evil of whatever other idea his Lord Father might have for her.

When she lets go of his arm, he finally reaches for her hand and lifts it so he can press a short kiss to her knuckles. He might have broken many of his vows, had killed and committed several crimes in the eyes of many, but he still had his manners. And despite everything, Sansa Stark was still a highborn lady of one of the great houses and deserved to be treated with respect. There was no denying that she was truly innocent when it came to the war between their houses.

"And you honor me with your choice, Lady Sansa." Seven hells, he knew that when he had promised Catelyn Stark to bring back her daughters, she wouldn't have wanted it in such a way. If anything she would have his head on spike for it.

"And while preparations will take a while." While the Kingsguard oath was for life, he may be able to leave with some honor intact. Given his injury, people would understand that he wouldn't be able to serve as a Kingsguard Commander properly anymore. It stung, but it was also the cold, hard truth. If he ever wanted to swing a sword again, he would need to start completely anew.

Keeping his gaze on her and her hand still in his, he slowly sunk down to one knee. "I swear to you, Sansa Stark, that I will not allow anyone to hurt you here in Kings Landing again. No matter who they are." He had once sworn to protect the innocent. He had done so when he had killed the Mad King and kept him from burning down the city. And he would do so one more.

don't trust him, a voice that sounds an awful lot like lord baelish's whispers in her ear. he is lying to you. he will you eat you raw, just like all the other lions will. but sansa is desperate, and desperate people do desperate things. her fingers tighten their grip on ser jaime's arm as her eyes try and see any sign of deceit in his. but he sounds... genuine to her.

how could she, a girl who had just flowered, know much about the way men lie to young girls? it's easy to trust a man when he looks as ser jaime does, when he looks as if he is bathed in sunlight. even after losing his hand, he is a sight to behold. and now, his green eyes bore into her own, and sansa feels emerald corrupting blue snow. perhaps it's true loneliness. a starvation of the soul. but something leads her to throw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck.

sansa is tall, but she still has to tiptoe, her face just over his shoulder as her tears dry on his clothes. sansa pulls back slowly, and she takes a moment to brush her lips against his jaw. it's a gentle kiss.

but it... makes her heart flutter. sansa hasn't been held in months. the hug, fleeting as it was, made her feel... safe. oh, you foolish little girl. you dumb, stupid, little wolf cub. ❝ then, i choose you, ser jaime. i would be honoured to be your lady wife. ❞ she lets go of his arm, then.

has she just signed the rest of her freedom away? perhaps. but right now, the man stand before her might as well have wings for all the sweet promise of freedom he brings her. for the first time since that awful letter had arrived... sansa had felt hopeful. she may be the last stark alive, but she may yet come home, still. she may yet be free.

[ravarui]

Could he? He had sworn that he would do so. But that had before the so called Red Wedding. Before Winterfell had fallen to the Ironborn and then to the Boltons.

And now? He was Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, once more sworn to protect a King. His own son no less. A son who loved to torment Sansa Stark at every given opportunity if the stories were to believe. He hadn't witnessed any mistreatment himself, and he didn't know what he would do if he would, but he had heard enough.

Yet there was a way. A decision he knew would delight his Lord Father, for it would give him what he wanted. His first-born son back as the rightful heir of Casterly Rock, and the only living Stark bound to a Lannister.

"I can."

Jaime doesn't know where he takes the conviction in his voice from, but it's there. This one oath, the one he had given Catelyn Stark, would be the one he would keep. For Sansa Stark was his last chance at honour.

He looks down at her hands when they grip his forearm, their difference in size and heigth becoming even more apparent up close like this. And if he would still have his other hand, he would have place it over hers, but he refrained from touching her. The golden hand seemed to repulse people, even Cersei refused to touch it to much.

Green eyes find blue once more and he hopes she can see the sincerity in his as he speaks his next words. "I don't care much for the gods, Lady Sansa. Neither old nor new." Especially not after witnessing so many cruelties in life. No matter if inflicted by himself or by someone. "And while it may not mean much to you." What was the word of a Kingslayer anyway? "I swear to you I will uphold the oath I made to your mother." The only one that mattered now anyway.

"I will bring you home. And keep you safe until then."

And while he didn't say the part out loud he had the feeling that she too, knew what path they had to take for them to achieve what they wanted.

Tywin Lannister would once more be the victor and get everything he wanted. No matter what.

an icy hand grips her heart; with an iron fist.

the mere mention of her mother makes sansa feel as if she's choking. she looks at him as if listening to his words, hanging on to them, she could see her just one more time. she barely remembers that last day at winterfell. she barely remembers kissing her goodbye. if only, she had known then, that would be the last time she'd see her mother...

she can tell by the tone in his voice he is telling her the truth. or, he's as gifted a liar as so many in king's landing. but, sansa had this idea in her head that ser jaime wasn't as complicated as some of the people in court. quiet tears roll down her cheeks. they're icy. there's barely a sign of her crying on her face. she has gotten quite good at hiding her emotions. my skin has turned to porcelain, ivory, steel. she is stone.

would she get to have her likeness set in stone down at the crypts in winterfell, where all other starks rest? ❝ can you? ❞ sansa's voice is barely louder than a whisper, like these words spoken between them were secrets. ❝ can you bring me home? ❞ she cared little for his vows. she cared little for all else in the world but the thought of home. if she dies, let her bones be buried in the crypts along with father's...

did they bury robb? mother?

sansa's heart in her throat as she steps towards him, dainty hands grabbing hold of his arm. the good one, not the one with the golden hand. she gripped his forearm with both hands, icy blue eyes were so desperate as she searched his own. his eyes were almost identical to his sister's, save for the warmth he held in them, whereas cersei's had always been cold. ❝ the vow you made my mother is the only one that matters. the old gods are vengeful, ser jaime. even if we're so far from the north. ❞ she doesn't mean to scare him. she knows only the truth of what old nan would tell her, of what she believes, even if she no longer believes in any gods. old or new. but oh, she can dream...

she can dream that perhaps, she'll be home soon.

[ravarui]

Of course she wasn't taught. As if the honorable Eddard Stark would've ever considered such a thing. And in the end his bloody honor and truthfulness had cost him his life. Which, honestly wasn't what she had wanted. She would've been content to send the man to the Wall, have him take the Black. But once again, Joffrey had done what he had wanted and this was why the North was rebelling right now.

Her quick reassurance prompts a soft laughter from the Queen. "Then you're a fool." Cersei wasn't blind to the things her son was doing, but she loved him all the same. He was her son after all. Her first born and all she had before Myrcella had been born. "A lie can safe your life, little dove. Even when you lie to your future husband." Only the gods knew how many lies she had told Robert in their time together.

Traitors daughter or not, Cersei saw a little bit of herself within Sansa. But the girl was so painfully naive, it truly showed her upbringing. No Lady of the House Lannister would've ever been that way.

The queen pours herself another cup, right after emptying her first one. "Do you know what's considered the most powerful weapon of a woman, Sansa?"

relief washed over her when she was told joffrey was busy.

though it was short-lived. she had no idea what sort of conversation between women the queen regent wished to have with her that were better kept from male ears, but she had an inkling she wouldn't much like it. she watched the queen pouring them both wine. quite a bit of it, too. her father, mother and her septa would've never allowed her to even dream of drinking so much. but it would be impolite to refuse.

❝ thank you, your grace, ❞ sansa takes her cup and slowly, takes a small sip. the wine was sweet, and she found that by now, she was used to the burn of the alcohol down her throat. it almost brings her courage, sometimes. her cheeks almost immediately turn rosy when she drinks, however. the alcohol makes her feel pleasantly warm. she can feel the queen's watchful gaze on her. she's noticing the bruise.

of course she would. the queen wasn't stupid. but if she had any sort of thoughts about it, she didn't share them. sansa looked down at her empty plate with a hint of shame. ❝ i'm sorry, your grace, i didn't— ❞

cersei wasn't stupid. she looks up at the older woman, offering her an apologetic smile, that would melt ice. cersei lannister, however, was... tougher than ice. ❝ i was taught to not lie. it's... difficult for me to go against what my septa and my parents taught me. ❞ there's a pause. her heart picks up its pace. ❝ i would never lie to joffrey. never. ❞

[ravarui]

Out of all the things she could've asked him, this was the least he expected. For her to be so open and actually voice her wishes. But then he had asked, hadn't he? And wasn't that what he had promised her mother? The one vow he had taken and actually try to uphold. Not that she knew anything about it. Would she even believe it, if she ever found out about it?

Then she brings up the topic of marriage. He knows that his father, would be more than pleased when he agreed to this. Tywin Lannister had always hated that he had joined the Kings Guard, had vowed to never to never take a wife, nor father any children. But he had broken so many of them already, hadn't he? He hadn't protected his king, he had murdered him. He had fathered children, three to be exact. With his own sister no less. So what was one broken vow more? His father certainly wouldn't care. A lion doesn't concern himself with the opinions of the sheep.

And could he deny the truth in her words? He may love his younger brother, but he knew the rest of the family didn't and no matter what, he wouldn't be able to keep Sansa safe from the cruelties of the rest of their family.

So what was one more broken vow, for the sake of keeping another. If the gods were real, maybe they would forgive him for this one at least.

"I shouldn't." He wasn't even any member of the Kingsguard, he was the Commander of them. But they weren't what they used to be. He knows that Arthur Dayne would be disgusted with what they've become. Just like Barristan Selmy.

"But I also swore another oath. Towards your mother." He finally looks over to her. "To keep you safe." A hard task in Kings Landing. "And to bring you home...." Impossible for now. She had to stay. Unless he truly accepted that wild proposal.

Gods. He knows Cersei would hate him for it. All the things he had done to get back to her. Seven hells he had strangled his own cousin without remorse.

"What an irony. That I would have to break another vow, just to keep this one."

what do you care? she wants to yell at him, the anger of a girl boiling underneath the surface of the composed lady. but sansa knows she is not allowed to lose her composure in such a manner, even if jaime had not been anything but pleasant to her since his return. she could not help but wish that he had come back in a casket, at first. no one would fault her, given how much the lannisters had taken from her.

she wants to scoff. to laugh at him. to mock him. she has no idea where this cruelty comes from. the thought that joffrey's poison is seeping into her makes her skin crawl, and she wants to think of anything else. she looks at him, then, when he talks of his childhood home. the castle he should be lord of, now. she almost wants to smile at the picture ser jaime paints for her. it's a simple one, but it's pretty. he may be no wordsmith, but he got the job done, nonetheless...

❝ sometimes i close my eyes, and i try to remember winterfell. i find that every day, i remember less and less. ❞ she longed for the cold of winterfell. for the long nights and the howling winds. she craved the comfort and innocence of her childhood more than food, more than air. but it was out of touch. dead and gone, just like father. her hands grabbed onto the ledge, and sansa leaned forward just slightly. her red hair danced in the wind. ❝ will you take me away from here? ❞

she doesn't look at him when she asks that question. he asked her, what she wanted. what she would prefer. and sansa just wanted one thing: she wanted out of king's landing. she didn't care if she had to marry him, or his brother, or ser dontos or anyone else. all she wanted was to be free of joffrey and of this place that had only brought her misery. ❝ joffrey will not let me go if i marry tyrion. but you... ❞ she focuses on the horizon. far, far away, is her home.

if she marries the heir of casterly rock, she will be free. she will be joffrey's aunt by marriage, and ser jaime would never allow him to hurt her. king or otherwise, she knows this much. he was a respected knight, and even joffrey would know better than to insult his wife. once again, sansa knows that marriage is her only way out of this.

[ravarui]

It's only the many years at court and her being used to all these boot lickers that try to get into her good graces, that keep her from rolling her eyes at the words from the young Stark.

The lies were painfully obvious, but she didn't fault the young girl for it. What else should she do anyway? Be honest about her feelings and wants? Such a thing went never well for a woman, especially not a glorified prisoner like Sansa was. They both knew that only her value as a member of House Stark kept her alive. Well, that and her engagement to Joffrey.

"He's not. He has other matters to tend too." Whatever they may be. Since becoming King Joffrey had been harder to control and influence for her and she felt as if her son wasn't listening to her at all. Wasn't heading her advice. "Plus, there are conversations between women that shouldn't be interrupted by any man."

Cersei reached for the wine that stood on the table, pouring both of them a generous glass without asking Sansa if she wanted a drink in the first place.

Taking a sip of the sweet dornish wine her green eyes linger on the bruise that had been tried to conceal. But she recognized it nontheless. Her own marks had never been so obvious, Jaime would've killed Robert in a heartbeat had he known the extent of the abuse, but she knew what to look for.

"Let me give you an advice, little dove. You need to learn to lie better."

once, sansa would've jumped with joy at that fact the queen had requested her presence. nowadays, it filled her with a deep sense of dread that spread through her like ice. you are a stark of winterfell.

those words were what drove her to ready herself for her audience with the queen regent, allowing shae to brush her hair until it shone.

there was no denying her beauty. even with the bruises that joffrey enjoyed painting her skin with, sansa stark was a sight to behold. she inherited none of the harshness the starks were known for, and all of the softness of the tullys. in her heart, she was soft, too. but her time in the red keep was hardening her. each day was a new lesson. sansa was, admittedly, a slow learner, but she was learning... sansa bowed as she was ushered into the room, her head low, and when she looks up at the queen, she has a practised sweet smile on her rosy lips.

she still calls her little dove. ❝ your grace. ❞

all those wonderful things on the table would've delighted her, once.

these days, she didn't have much of an appetite. not even for lemoncakes, which had once been her favourite. king's landing had sucked the sweeetness out of the world. she sits down on the chair cersei pointed out to her, eyes set on the plate set for her. there was no other plate set. this was a private meeting. the queen wished to speak with her alone. again, that fills her with dread. her stomach drops, her grey eyes looking up to meet emerald green.

❝ you look beautiful, your grace. and this table... it's wonderful. thank you for asking me to sup with you. i am most honoured. ❞ practised courtesies. her septa had taught her well. ❝ is the king not joining us? ❞ please say no. sansa tries so hard to not let it seem too obvious.