Chapter Text
Sansa
Sansa had been internally freaking out ever since the ball, although she refused to show it outwardly. She thought she had made a good impression on the commander’s, but you never know what people really think of you until you get your matches.
Once she got out of this car and into her house, she would know who her potential husbands would be. She had prayed every night for God to spare her and give her someone good and kind. Someone like her father.
Arya was quiet for once, thank goodness, because if she said one thing that annoyed her, Sansa was sure she’d push her sister out of this car. She caught herself looking at her guardian more these days. Perhaps he wasn’t as scary as people acted. He saved her from having to dance with Joffrey, after all.
Her friends all had their own preferences when it came to matches, of course. Margaery wanted someone powerful and young, like the new Baratheon Commander, Renly. Jeyne wanted anyone who wasn’t from the colonies. Sansa mostly wanted someone nice, but her favorite was Loras Tyrell. If she married Loras, she and Margaery would be sisters and could always be friends.
The car ride went smoothly, and before she knew it, Sansa was back home. Her house had never looked so foreboding as it did now. Inside her house was the knowledge of her entire future, and it both excited and terrified Sansa.
Her Martha let Sansa and Arya in. Their mother was already waiting in the sitting room, with a stack of folders in her lap. Her expression was hard to read. If her matches were terrible, her mother would be much more upset, right?
Her mother put on a smile when she noticed the girls, inviting Sansa to join her on the couch.
“Sansa, are you ready to know your matches?” her mother asked, clearly anxious for her daughter. Sansa took a deep breath before nodding, ready to take on whoever the aunts had picked for her.
“You’ve been matched with Commander Tyrell, Commander Clegane, and… Commander Lannister,” her mother said. Clearly the last one was the most important. She let herself breathe again. Those weren’t too bad, right? Maybe it was Jaime Lannister and not Tywin.
“Which Lannister and which Tyrell?” she asked, a little nervous to hear the answer. With this, her mother sighed.
“Loras Tyrell, and Tywin Lannister,” she responded, clearly unhappy with the last one. Sansa wasn’t happy either. Tywin Lannister gave her the creeps, even if she would never admit it. Then, she remembered the second name her mother had stated. Commander Clegane? Wasn’t that…
“You mean our guardian is one of my matches?” she asked, a little puzzled. New commanders rarely got wives, or even matches with anyone, in their first season.
“Yes, our guardian. Overall, I’d say you have good matches. It could be much worse, dear,” her mother said. Sansa knew she was talking about Joffrey. She’d rather jump off a cliff than ever be near him again.
“I want Loras Tyrell,” she blurted out, a little ashamed afterwards. She wasn’t meant to have such strong opinions on who she married, but it was true. Her mother only gave her a soft smile, not upset at Sansa’s boldness.
“I know. I do too. I like the Tyrells, and he seems like a nice boy. He’d be the best for you, I think,” her mother told her. Sansa wholeheartedly agreed. The Tyrell’s had so much power and influence, she’d surely be set for life if she married him.
“Whatever happens, the most important thing is that you’re safe and happy,” her mother reminded. Sansa nodded, knowing she was right. Although she really hoped it wouldn’t be Tywin.
“We’ll start doing home visits soon, right?” she asked, excitement in her voice. Home visits meant getting to wear her new dresses for the first time. Sansa would never turn down getting to wear a good dress.
“Yes. Home visits, and then engagement, and then wedding planning, and then my little girl is married off for good,” her mother said, clearly sad but also hopeful for her daughter’s future.
“Was it like this wish Robb?” she asked. Her older brother Robb had gotten married last year, to a woman named Talisa. Sansa liked Talisa, and Robb seemed entirely taken with her.
“No, not really. He went to the ball, and then he had his match, and that was about it. There’s less pressure on the boys, I’m afraid,” her mother commented. Sansa sometimes got the feeling that her parents were less happy with the state of Gilead than they were supposed to be. This was one of those times.
“I guess so,” she responded. She didn't want to argue with her mother, especially now that she was about to leave her forever.
“I fear for the day Arya has to get married,” she said with a laugh. This made Catelyn snort, clearly feeling the same way.
“Your sister will learn. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do,” her mother responded. Sansa knew it was true. With that, Catelyn pulled her into a hug before leaving to check on dinner.
Sitting alone on the couch, Sansa thought about how her life would go. She’d be married in just a few short months, and then she’d start her real life. She’d lead her household, she’d have children, and she'd be happy. Even if she wasn’t happy with the outcome of her marriage, maybe she’d find comfort in other things. She was determined to be happy, no matter what.
Sandor
It was the first time he had been to this house as anything but a guardian. Being here as a suitor was strange. He was wearing his best suit, looking as put together as he possibly could with the giant scar marring half of his face.
He was still reeling from finding out that the aunts paired him with Sansa fucking Stark. Sure, he’d danced with her at the ball, but that was only to help her from a clearly uncomfortable situation. He was banking on being low status and young enough that all the girls would be matched with older commanders and he wouldn’t have to worry about the whole wife thing for a few years.
And even if he did get matched with someone, he never would have thought it would be the girl he’d meant to have been protecting the past year.
Their Martha let him in (he would never get used to that) and he was motioned to enter their sitting room. Sansa was already sitting there with her parents, looking as prim and proper as a princess. She was wearing a deep green dress. If he was there under different circumstances, he might even think that she looked very pretty.
“Blessed Day,” he said to the room, not sure who he should directly speak to.
“Blessed day,” her father responded. He looked stern but not judgemental. He’d never had any reason to believe that Ned Stark was a cruel man, so he wasn’t worried. He was more worried about Catelyn’s opinion of him. He didn’t actually want to marry this girl obviously, but it was never good to have enemies.
“So, why do you want to marry my daughter?” he questioned. Sandor wasn’t sure how to respond, since he actually didn’t.
“Well… I know you’re a good family, and I know she’s a nice girl,” he said. Ned gave him a nod, clearly taking everything he said into account.
“Not much of a talker?” Ned asked, and Sandor knew he had seen right through him. He just nodded, completely out of his depth.
“That’s alright. So, you’ll be appointed commander in a few weeks, correct? How could you provide for Sansa?” Ned asked. Jesus, this guy was grilling him. Sandor paused, before responding.
“Well, they’ll give me a house, I think,” he answered. Wasn’t that enough, a decent home and a status?
He still couldn’t read Ned Stark’s expression, but the man didn’t seem to hate him.
“Sansa, do you have any questions?” Ned asked his daughter, his expression softening as he spoke to her. The Starks certainly seemed more like a real family than anyone else he’d ever interacted with in Gilead.
“I don’t have any questions. I hope God will find me truly worthy, “ she said, clearly reciting something she’d been told to say. He sometimes wondered what it would take to break her of those deep rooted Gilead courtesies.
“Would you like some tea?” Catelyn asked. She was obviously only asking out of politeness, as the woman did not seem to like him as much as Ned did. He shook his head, not in the mood to stay for any longer than he had to.
“I should get back, I’m still a guardian after all. Thank you for your time,” he said before standing up, not waiting for permission.
Their Martha showed him to the door and he exited the Stark house. Although it was slightly smaller than most other commander’s houses he’d seen in Gilead, it was still very foreboding for someone like him. He hoped the house they gave him wasn’t nearly as big.
As he was driven back to the guardian’s residence, he thought about the Stark girl again. Beneath all of her politeness, he could tell she was so innocent and naive. She wasn’t like him. Gilead was her home, and it was all she ever knew or would ever know. He almost envied her. Sometimes he wished he had no idea what life was like before, or what was taken in the name of “godliness”. But, wishing would get him nowhere. He had done horrible things, after all. He wasn’t proud of them, but they got him out of a hanging. He was just a scarred dog, and no girl like her would ever look at him with anything but disdain.
Sansa
The next few days had brought more home visits with her other two matches. She liked talking to Loras Tyrell, although she worried she blushed too much and would seem too desperate for him. Tywin Lannister still scared her a little, so she tried her best to be undesirable. Unfortunately, he was still interested.
Soon her engagement would be finalized once she heard from her matches. She was certain Tywin would accept based on his actions so far, but she wasn’t so sure about the other two.
Every night, she prayed her match would be good. She knew it probably wouldn’t help. For whatever reason, God rarely seemed to answer her prayers.
Tonight, she was having dinner with just her father, sister, and younger brothers. Her mother was at a get-together with the other wives in the area, so the Stark matriarch was absent.
“Stop picking at your food, Arya. It’s rude,” she snapped. It must’ve been her nerves about marriage, because lately even small things that Arya did made Sansa crazy.
“Stop picking on your sister,” her father scolded. Sansa’s face scrunched up in annoyance.
“But it’s not fair. I have to be perfect all the time and she can do whatever she wants with no consequences. No one will ever marry you, Arya. even if one day you decided you actually wanted to get married!” she barked, only getting more annoyed.
“Sansa! Apologize,” her father said. Sansa was not going to apologize. If Arya didn’t start acting like a proper lady one of these days, she’d surely be sent to the colonies or put on the wall. Her younger brothers seemed distressed, and Arya was angry. Finally, her father stood up.
“Sansa, come with me. We need to talk,” he told her cryptically. She wasn’t sure what this talk was going to be about, but she followed him to the other room anyway, leaving the rest of her family in the dining room.
She sat down across from her father, her anger not yet cooled.
“I know you’re going through a lot lately. Marriage is scary, and I don’t blame you for being a little on edge. But it doesn’t give you an excuse to be cruel to your family,” he said sternly. She wanted to sink down into her seat. She hated when her parents were mad at her.
“I wasn’t mean to her-” she was cut off before she could finish.
“You were, Sansa. Arya’s not you. But she is your sister. And if there’s anything we have in this world, it’s our family. We have to stick together, do you hear me? We have to,” he said. Sansa had never heard her father speak so harshly.
“I’m sorry, father. I didn’t mean to be rude,” she said. It was half hearted, but she knew an apology was needed. She saw his face soften at that, and she knew his tone wasn’t fully about her.
“I know. But you two need each other, more than you’ll know.”
His words were still cryptic, and they gave Sansa a sinking feeling. Did he know something she didn’t? Was there something bigger going on that involved her father, or worse, her entire family? These worries only spiked her already heightened anxiety.
Her father didn’t say anything else to her before leaving the room to check on the rest of her family, and the sinking feeling didn’t go away. All of her thoughts were preoccupied with her wedding, but what if there was something bad going on?
She had to shake these thoughts away. They were silly, and she was wrong to think this way. Her family was good, and her father was a god fearing man. There was no way anything would happen to her family or to her. She needed to focus on the real things now.