Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sansa was both overjoyed and terrified. This was it. This was the day she had been waiting for her entire life. She was finally becoming a green.
Getting her period meant marriage, and marriage meant finally living out her perfect life.

She had been planning her wedding since she was little, of course. All of her friends had too. She’d have tulips and irises for flower arrangements, there would be a big lemon flavored cake and lots of light blue. It would be perfect, and it was suddenly becoming much more real.

Finally working up the courage, she cautiously stepped outside and walked towards the bell tower. She was meant to be in her fiber arts class (which she excelled at, of course), but no one would question a girl about to ring the bell. Her knees were constantly about to buckle from nerves, but she kept her head up high. She was a green now, and soon to be a wife. She would need to be able to keep calm under pressure if she wanted to run a household.

Climbing the steps to the belltower felt like the longest walk she’d ever taken, each step much slower than she’d usually walk. As she stood before that big bell, she suddenly felt the weight of this moment. Now, she was eligible. She’d attend the commander’s ball, get engaged, host parties to celebrate, and then the actual marriage. Soon, she’d meet the man she’d spend the rest of her life with, whether she liked him or not.

Finally, she actually rang the bell, hearing it ring all throughout the courtyard, surely heard by everyone in the school. Knowing people would be waiting outside to see who had rung it, she climbed down those intimidating stairs to the courtyard below. Aunt Lydia was already there, of course, and so were all of her friends. Jeyne noticed her first, seeming happy but also a bit jealous. She stepped up on the fountain, ready to announce that it was finally her special day. She kneeled down in front of Aunt Lydia, beginning to speak.

“As He blessed Ruth and Leah, He has blessed me this day,” she started, reciting the words she knew she had to say, nearly forgetting them in her nerves. “As He answered the prayers of Sarah, Rachel, and Rebecca, He has saved me from barrenness. By His hand, He will make me fruitful.”

Her voice was shaking by the end, but no one seemed to care. They were too happy for her. Everyone except for her sister, standing towards the back, seemed to be overjoyed for Sansa’s developments. The world seemed to blur as Aunt Lydia placed the pin on the front of her jacket, signifying her newfound status as a green. Everyone was smiling when she finally stepped down from the fountain and walked back into school. Her friend Margaery was the first to congratulate her.

“I’m so happy for you, Sansa,” Margaery said, smiling. “Now we’ll be married in the same season. I was so worried God wouldn’t choose you after the whole debacle with your family,” Margaery mentioned. Sansa didn't like being reminded of that unpleasantness. That was one of her worst fears, really. That god would punish her for the crimes of her father. Luckily, God seemed to like her more.
“I’m glad too,” she answered politely. You always had to be polite in Gilead, even when someone slighted you. You never know who could be listening.

The two of them walked back to class tomorrow, talking about wedding plans and the upcoming commander’s ball. Sansa was a little nervous for the ball. She prayed every night that her father’s new status wouldn’t diminish her chances of marrying a good commander. God forbid she married a minor commander, or worse, married one from the colonies. She looked at Margaery as she listened to her friend talk. Margaery would never have to worry about these things. Her father was one of the most important in the area, and every high commander would be interested in Margaery Tyrell. The same couldn’t be said for Sansa Stark.

Finally, they made it back to their fiber arts class, taking their seats in a sewing circle with Jeyne and Myrcella. All three girls were gushing over Sansa, happy that she was finally blessed with a period. Jeyne had gotten her period already, and so had Margaery. Myrcella hadn’t yet, but she was a little younger than the other three, so it wasn’t worrying. After all, her parents were the most important commanders in the area, maybe even in the entire country. How could Myrcella not be chosen by God?

Sansa looked over and saw her younger sister with a scowl on her face. To be fair, Arya always had a scowl, but it seemed that she was especially upset at Sansa’s happiness. Not that Arya would ever want to get her period. She’d sooner be an aunt than a wife, and had made her opinion quite known. Sansa never understood how her sister could think this way. There was nothing Sansa wanted more in the world than to marry well and be taken care of for the rest of her life.

She only had one more class that day, and it passed quickly. Before she knew it, Sansa and Arya were in their car being driven home. Their family had recently been assigned a new guardian, and he frightened her a little. His name was Sandor, but everyone called him the hound, a nickname she didn’t want to know the origin of. He was much taller than her, and he had a horrible scar that covered half of his face. She supposed his scariness would make him good at protecting her and her family, but it didn’t make him any more pleasant to look at.

Arya didn’t say two words to her on the drive home, like usual, and she was home before she knew it. Her parents were happy for her when she told them the news, her mother immediately pulling her in for a tight hug.

“Oh Sansa, you’re growing up,” Her mother said, and Sansa was sure she felt her wiping a tear from her face. Sansa just smiled as she pulled away from the hug. Her father seemed proud too, but there was a distant look in his eyes that told her his emotions were more complicated.

For the first time after learning she got her period, she felt a little sad. She loved her family, and being a wife meant she would have to live away from them. She hoped she got married to a commander who lived close by, so she could still see her parents and brothers. And maybe Arya, if there was time.

Bran seemed happy enough for her, and Rickon didn’t fully understand what was going on, but he was excited at the rest of the family’s happiness. Dinner conversation was lively that night, as Sansa’s mother talked about all of the arrangements they’d have to make in preparation for her season as a green. Sansa had never quite realized how much work went into marriage preparation. For dessert that night they even had a small celebratory lemon cake for sansa, which she ate very happily. Treats like this were still a luxury, even if Gilead was stabilizing.

After the evening’s excitement wore down, Sansa went upstairs to her room and got ready for bed. As she was brushing her hair, she heard a knock on her bedroom door. Upon opening the door, she discovered it was Arya, which confused her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Arya was still scowling.

“Are you actually happy?” Arya asked in return.

“Of course I am. I’ve been wanting this for ages,” she replied. It was true. Sansa truly didn’t understand why Arya would have any reservations.

“Youre happy that your life is practically over? All you’re going to do for the rest of your life, Sansa, is have babies and serve some man. That’s what you want?” Arya challenged.

This gave Sansa pause, but she refused to show it.

“Well… yes, of course. It’s our job, Arya. I’ll get married, and someday, even if you hate it, so will you. At least I’m happy about it. And if you do anything to ruin my chances of finding a good match, you’ll regret it,” Sansa retorted. Arya only scoffed.

“How could I ever mess up perfect princess Sansa’s chances of a match? How could I even dream of getting between her and some old man she’ll surely end up with?”

Now Sansa was angry. Without saying another word to her sister, she pushed Arya out of the room (this was very unladylike, but she didn’t care about her courtesies when it came to Arya) and slammed the door in front of her.

She resumed her hair brushing, before washing her face and brushing her teeth. Once she was in her nightgown, she lied down to go to sleep. Sleep didn’t come easy, however, her mind still reeling with the events of the day.

Arya’s words kept playing in her mind, even as she tried her best to ignore her sister’s words. Arya was only trying to make her unhappy, as usual. She wouldn’t just be a pretty face for some old man. Not Sansa.

Chapter Text

Sandor 

Being a guardian for a commander with children was sort of like being a fancy babysitter. All he really did was follow the Stark girls around making sure they’re always safe and pick them up from school every day. Being around them so much gave him insights into their personalities. He liked Arya the most. Sansa was sort of a snooty bitch, he thought. But Arya seemed to despise the entire concept of marriage and the systems of Gilead. Smart girl. 

A few days ago, Sansa had gotten her period, he gathered, something the girl seemed entirely too excited about. He felt bad for these girls. They had no idea how this world was never kind to women, even the daughters of high commanders. Oh well, he thought. She’d find out soon enough. 

He heard rumors he’d be promoted to commander soon, a prospect he wasn’t thrilled about. It came with protection, sure, but it also meant he’d need a wife and act like he was crazy about Gilead. He did what he had to do, but the ideals of this country left a bad taste in his mouth. The idea of getting a wife thrilled him even less. He didn’t want to have to deal with the kind of women Gilead was breeding these days. Girls like Sansa Stark who thought their lives would be fairytales and no harm would ever come to them. God, how naive these girls were. He really did feel bad. 

As he opened the girl’s doors, Sansa went straight into her house while Arya lingered. She looked around to make sure no one was looking, before speaking to him. 

“My sister will have to get married soon,” she said, with no introduction or formalities that were so sacred to most of these people. He was confused as to why this child was talking to him. 

“I gathered that,” He responded, curtly but not rude. 

“I’d kill any man who tried to marry me,” she spat, clearly unhappy with the concept. He wanted to laugh. It wasn’t an unreasonable thing to dislike. 

“That’s treasonous talk, girl. Don’t let the wrong people hear you talk like that,” he said. 

“I mean it. I’ll never get married. I’ll never be like Sansa with her teas and her plans.” 

“Isn’t that why you’re in that damn school? To get married one day?” he told her. This seemed to make her pause. 

“Well, yes, but every commander’s daughter has to go to this school. But I won’t get married,” she spat. She was stubborn, this strange girl. 

“Go inside before your father sees you talking to me. You’re not meant to say more than two words to me, you know,” He reminded her. She seemed upset at this, but went inside anyway. He didn’t understand why this girl was talking to him. Maybe she just had no one else. 

After that strange encounter with the less annoying Stark girl, he went on with his duties as a guardian. The nice thing about possibly being promoted was not having to protect this family anymore. He didn’t mind Ned and Catelyn Stark, they seemed better than most families here, but guarding anyone was tedious. Better than the Lannisters. 

He had a meeting tonight with Tywin Lannister and his lackey commanders, probably about his potential promotion. He didn’t like that man, but he’d do what he had to do. He was just a dog to these people, after all. 

After checking to make sure there was nothing more he had to do at the Stark house, he went on with his night and made his way to the Lannister house. Well, it was more of a manor than a house. It was maybe the biggest house Sandor had ever seen and it put even the Tyrell’s to shame. He knocked on the door and one of their Martha’s greeted him. The whole Martha thing still weirded him out. He didn’t want any when he was a commander. 

As he was led into the drawing room, he felt nerves for the first time. While he was pretty sure he wasn’t in any trouble, this was Gilead and they could get you for anything. 

Tywin was already waiting for him, sitting in a chair by the fire, the other commanders surrounding him. He was clearly the top dog here. 

“Clegane. Please, take a seat,” the old man commanded him. Not wanting to upset the most powerful man in the country, he did as he was told. 

“We’ve been watching your achievements for a while now, and we’re impressed with your performance as a guardian. Especially considering your… upbringing,” Tywin said. He had the kind of glare that stared directly into your soul, as if wanting to know your every thought. 

“Thank you, sir,” he responded gruffly. 

“We’ve decided to promote you to commander status, as I’m sure you already know. This isn’t some honorary title. We really believe in you, Clegane. Don’t screw this up.” 

Sandor nodded, trying to act as grateful as he could. He hated lying, even in small ways like this, but it was difficult being an honest man in this place, despite how hard he tried. 

“Gilead has plans for you. Big plans,” Tywin said, a calculated look on his face. 

With that cryptic message, he sent Sandor away wondering what he meant by that. Big plans rarely meant that he would get to live a quiet life in a secluded place. He just hoped these plans wouldn’t involve his dead body hung on the wall. 

Sansa 

Sansa’s life had never moved quite so fast. First she got her period, then she was inducted into the greens in a strange baptism-like ceremony. After that, she had to get fitted for new dresses, and just yesterday she had to go to the dentist. She wasn’t used to these obligations, but she supposed a wife should be good at multitasking. Commanders also started to send her fruit baskets and cards, so her family would know she was interested. She didn’t get quite as many as some of the other girls, but it wasn’t nothing either. 

Today, the green girls were having a tea for the aunts, hoping to do well and win their favor. Everyone was incredibly stressed, as it was almost as high stakes as the commander's ball. If they didn’t impress the aunts, the aunts would never give them a good match.

The tea was being held at Margaery’s house, as she was the green with the nicest sitting room. Sansa used to have one of the best homes in the area, before the ordeal with her father and the Lannister’s. She wished she was living in her old house now. Maybe she’d be seen as close to Margaery’s level, or maybe even higher. She had to remind herself that it wasn’t a competition, and they’d surely both get blessed matches. 

She was going over her teapot pouring when her friend Jeyne came over. She had known Jeyne the longest, since they both lived in Denver before attending the Aunt Lydia School in Maryland. Sometimes she really missed Denver, when it was just her and Jeyne. 

“Are you nervous?” Jeyne asked. She seemed extremely nervous. 

“I mean, a little. But I have good etiquette, praise be, so as long as everything goes as planned, I should be alright. How about you?” she responded. It was true. Sansa was always praised by the aunts for her poise. 

“I’m terrified. I mean, what if I slip up? I could get stuck with a commander from,” she paused and lowered her voice “the colonies.” 

Sansa put a hand on her friend’s shoulder, trying to calm her down. 

“You’ll be fine, Jeyne. I’m sure we’ll all do good, and none of us will get stuck with a commander from the colonies.” 

“I know it’s unlikely, I just can’t stop thinking about it. I mean, I’m not Magaery. If the aunts don’t like me, there’s no way any commander will want me unless they’re desperate,” Jeyne said. Clearly, she was starting to spiral a bit. 

“Just don’t think about it so much. You’ll only drive yourself crazy,” Sansa told her. 

“I know, I know,” Jeyne finally seceded. 

After consoling her anxious friend, Sansa decided to take her own advice and stop overthinking it so much. She had been practicing for this for years. She’d be fine. Even if she wasn’t as high ranking as some of these other girls, she would always have her poise. 

Finally, it was time. She got in line with her fellow greens and met the aunts outside while they got out of the many cars parked outside. Sansa was terrified, but she was also determined to not let this show. There was nothing that would get in between her and a good husband. 

Once they were all inside and the aunts and wives took their seats, the green girls started serving scones and other sweets to the aunts and their mothers. She took a glance at her mother, who gave her a supportive nod. This gave her a bit of extra confidence, knowing that someone was looking out for her here. She took her time placing each one on the plate, arranging them in the most perfect way she could think too. 

In a careful dance she’d practiced a thousand times, she picked up the teapot next to her and carefully poured in just the right amount into the cup, no more and no less. So far, every other girl has done well too. The aunts seemed pleased, especially aunt Lydia. After pouring the cup of tea, she took a step back and waited to see aunt Mordane took a careful sip, seeming to be happy with Sansa’s performance so far. 

Aunt Lydia finally began to speak, leaving all of the green girls on their toes. 

“I am very pleased with this year’s batch of girls. You all seem to be doing very well, and I’m proud of each and every one of you,” she stated to the room, clearly actually happy and not just putting on a front. It made Sansa’s nerves cease a bit, but she was still on edge. You could never truly let your guard down. 

Aunt Lydia seemed to have jinxed it, however, because just after she commented on the success of the afternoon, Jeyne dropped her teapot and it shattered into a hundred pieces. 

Jeyne looked as apologetic as she may have if she had accidentally killed someone, her face turning as pale as a ghost. Sansa could see the tears welling in her eyes. Although she could show no emotion of her own, she truly felt bad for her friend. It must have been her nerves betraying her that made her drop the teapot. 

Jeyne’s mother looked just as distressed as Jeyne while Mrs. Tyrell called for one of her Martha’s to clean up the mess. The aunts tsked, while Jeyne looked as if she might curl up into a ball and sob right there. 

The tea continued, and nothing else went wrong. When all of the aunts went home and the greens and their mothers were left, Jeyne truly broke out into tears. Sansa gave her a hug, wanting to console her distraught friend. 

“I can’t believe I did that. Now they’ll surely pair me with a commander from the colonies,” she said through her tears. 

“You don’t know that. Maybe they’ll look past it?” she added hopefully, though she knew it was unlikely. Jeyne’s family were nobodies in Gilead, and it was almost impossible she’d end up with a high ranking commander already. Today just sealed the deal. 

“You know that’s not true, Sansa,” Jeyne contested, and Sansa had no further consolations for Jeyne. It was true. With that, she let Jeyne’s mother give her further hugs and reassurance. 

When Sansa finally spoke to her own mother, Catelyn seemed conflicted. 

“I feel sorry for Jeyne. I’m sure her mother is very distressed,” Catelyn commented. “But at least you did well.” 

Sansa knew her mother wasn’t as advantageous as the other girl’s mothers were. Catelyn Stark wouldn’t mind who she married, as long as they weren’t abusive and didn’t live too far away. She wouldn’t give up her baby girl that easily. 

“They won’t really ship her off to the colonies, will they? Surely the aunts know that she’s a good girl. This was just a slip-up,” Sansa tried to convince her mother. She was also trying to convince herself of this. 

“I hope you’re right. Perhaps I could have a talk with aunt Mordane and try to convince her of this. The Pooles are a good family, and they deserve a good match for their daughter,” Catelyn commented. Sansa couldn’t agree more. Although they weren’t really allowed to have best friends, if anyone was her best friend, it was definitely Jeyne. They had known each other their whole lives, and she wasn’t the kind of person who deserved a life in the colonies. 

The afternoon was a success for Sansa, even with the Jeyne situation. She was now one step closer to a husband and the life of her dreams. The next thing she’d have to get through was the commander’s ball, and if she could get through that night unscathed, she would be on the marriage home stretch. 

As she walked out of the Tyrell’s house with her mother, she wondered about Catelyn’s upbringing. She knew it was in the before times, which were surely nothing like what she was going through now. 

“Mother, how did you meet father?” she asked tentatively. Her parents had never told them what their lives had been like before Gilead. You weren’t really supposed to talk about the before times, but Sansa was curious anyway. 

Catelyn had a nostalgic look in her eyes before answering. 

“I was a freshman in college when he asked me to get coffee with him,” she told her. This puzzled Sansa. 

“What’s college?” she questioned. Was it some sort of wife school from before? Catelyn only sighed. 

“College was school, but it wasn’t for becoming a wife. I was studying English literature, and your father was studying history. He saw me one day at a party and decided that I was certainly the love of his life,” she said wistfully. These memories brought her joy. Sansa hoped that the memories of meeting her own husband would be as romantic. 

“Were you?” she asked, now smiling. Catelyn smiled back. 

“Oh, yes. Although at the time I thought he was a bit too much for me. He was from the mountains, and I was used to the men from Virginia. He puzzled me. But, eventually, I loved him back,” she recounted, still smiling. 

Her parent’s love story made her almost wish she could meet people authentically, like they did. But, perhaps she’d find someone just as perfect for her as her father had been for her mother. She’d seen girls’ from her school end up with commanders who were horrible, sure, but she’d also seen others live very happy lives. 

“I hope I meet someone I love just as much as you love father,” she told her. And she meant it. Catelyn smiled at this too. 

“I’m sure you will,” she said. Sansa wanted to believe it. 

Their drive home was pleasant, although she couldn’t shake her feelings for Jeyne and her situation. She wished there was something she could do, but intervening on something like this would only make everything worse. 

When she got home that day, she tried on one of her new dresses for home visits, fantasizing about the sort of man she’d meet while wearing this dress. She hoped he’d be gentle and sweet, and loved lemon cakes and stories like she did. Maybe he’d be the sort of man she could really fall in love with.

Chapter Text

Sansa 

It was finally time for the commander’s ball, and Sansa was a nervous wreck. She’d practiced the dance a hundred times already and knew how to waltz better than she knew how to walk. Her dress was beautiful and her hair looked nice, but still she was worried she wasn’t pretty enough to catch anyone’s eye. 

Jeyne was more afraid than she was, because if she messed it up tonight then she’d really have no future. But Sansa couldn’t focus too much on Jeyne. Tonight was about her success. Luckily, the first person she’d have to dance with was her father, so she wasn’t stressed about that. It was the other dances she worried about. 

Myrcella was helping her with her hair, since the plums who hadn’t gotten their periods yet couldn’t be a part of the ball. She was still a little wary of Myrcella, but the younger girl hadn’t done anything bad to Sansa, so she was kind to her in turn. 

Margaery seemed perfectly poised as always, with little to no fear on her face. What Sansa wouldn’t give to be more like her. 

She fiddled with a strand of her bright hair wishing it was a little duller. It’s never good to stand out in Gilead, even if it’s not for any bad reason. She wished her hair was more auburn, and her hair was less pale, and her eyes were less blue. She wished she was more average looking. Interesting looking girls always got unwanted attention from the more creepy commanders. 

At last, it was time to enter the ballroom and get into place for the opening. The opening dance was a beautiful intricate dance with lots of members of the Aunt Lydia School, not just the greens. As she got into her place, she noticed the high commanders watching from above, like the girls were gladiators fighting to the death and the commanders were the roman nobles enjoying it like a show. 

The first dance went perfectly, thanks to rigorous practice with the aunts. Sansa was glad it went well. Even if it wouldn’t directly look bad on her if anything went array, it was still good not to begin on a bad note. 

The first dance of the night was the father daughter dance, and Sansa spotted her father in the crowd. She smiled as he took her hands, moving into a smooth waltz. 

“You’re so big now, Sansa. All grown up and getting married soon,” he said, a hint of melancholy in his expression. 

“I know. It’s a little frightening,,” she said, speaking honestly for the first time this evening. She had always felt safe with her father, and she knew nothing bad would happen to her as long as he was there with her. 

“Well, I’ll personally go through all of your suitors and ensure you get the best one. Only the best for my baby girl,” he remarked. She smiled at his words, as she knew they were true. 

“I’m grateful for it, daddy. Really. I know some girls whose fathers really don’t care,” she told him. He had a dark look on his face at that information. 

“Well, I’m sorry to those girls, but you’re not one of them, lovebug,” He said. Being with her father made this big night seem a little less scary. 

“Am I dancing well?” she asked teasingly. 

“Oh, you’re dancing terribly, dear,” He responded. She smiled again, knowing he was only joking. She was dancing perfectly, and the night was going perfectly so far. “Seriously, though, love, you’ll be fine. Just be yourself when they ask you questions, and don’t oblige anyone if they’re making you uncomfortable, no matter how high ranking they may be.” 

She nodded, knowing there was no way she could stick to this promise, and with that the father daughter dance was over, and the real ball began. 

Sandor 

Sandor was glad to know that the rumors of him soon being promoted were true, as it gave him more security in his place in Gilead. He was not so happy about now having to attend the commander’s ball as a suitor and not just a protector. 

He didn’t want to marry any of these girls. For one thing, none of them were over the age of sixteen, and Sandor wasn’t a pervert. How could he possibly be a husband to a little girl? What would they talk about, the weather? Secondly, he knew these girls, at least in passing. They had been over to the Stark’s house to see Sansa often. He knew that nearly all of them were shallow, childish, and painfully naive. Not one of them was someone he would ever want to spend his life with. 

However, duty was duty, so he now found himself putting on a suit and getting ready for this stupid ball. 

A driver took him there and he rode in the backseat, which was strange to someone not used to being the highest ranked in a car, or any space really. He was used to being seen as little as possible, doing his job with no frills. Now, however, he was being treated like the commander he was soon to be, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. 

When he got there, he supposed he should mingle with the other young commanders before the ball actually started and the girls got there. These young commanders were just as dull and innocent as the girls were. None of them had ever truly known a life outside of Gilead, and not one likely ever would. This was their world and they knew no different. He suddenly felt all of his twenty-nine years while interacting with them. 

One overexcited boy seemed like Sandor would be a good person to talk to and came up to him to strike a conversation. 

“Blessed evening,” the boy said to him. Sandor just nodded. 

“I’m Podrick,” he went on. “Well, technically, now I’m Commander Payne. It’s strange to be a commander now, isn’t it?” the boy asked. 

“Yeah,” was all Sandor could muster. He really wasn’t in the mood for smalltalk. This boy, who couldn’t be older than seventeen, however, did not understand Sandor’s unwillingness to talk and tried his luck anyway. 

“Do you hope to find a wife tonight?” He asked.

“I doubt I will,” Sandor replied. This kid was getting on his nerves, as well meaning as he seems to be. 

“I know. They always give the good ones to the old men. Well, maybe I’ll get lucky. I’ve been sort of interning for one of the Lannisters, so maybe I could have some sway with them. If you can get in with the Lannisters, you can get anything you want.” 

Sandor scoffed at that. It was the first smart thing the boy had said the entire conversation. 

“Well, I hope it works out for you,” was all he could say before moving on to get a drink. He’d need as much alcohol as they would let him have to get through this evening. 

He noticed the doors opening, and assumed it was probably their cue to enter the ballroom. He’d have to dance for some girl for a bit before giving her off to an old commander. He only hoped the unlucky kid wouldn't be too scared of his face. 

As he entered the opulent ballroom and the others started to pair up, he noticed Sansa Stark in the middle. Her head was held high and she seemed completely confident in this sort of environment. He almost envied her. 

While watching Sansa, he noticed her expression immediately shift. Following her gaze, he saw Joffrey, the Baratheon boy, walk up to her. Seeing her clear distress, he walked up to her without thinking, beating Joffrey to a dance with her. 

“Blessed evening,” she says tentatively. She’s clearly relieved to not be dancing with Joffrey, but a little confused as to why he’s even here. 

“Blessed evening, girl,” he responds, following her steps in an awkward dance as the string quartet picks up a new tune. 

“We’ve.. We’ve been sent good weather,” she says, obviously puzzled. 

“Yes, and I received it with joy. Are you wondering what I’m doing here?” he asks. She nods sheepishly. “I’m being promoted to commander, and commanders need wives. Thus, commander ball.” This seemed to make her less puzzled, but no less uncomfortable. The girl was clearly hoping to dance with some pretty young boy. 

“You looked like you needed saving,” he said, referring to her reaction to Joffrey. 

“It’s complicated. But thank you,” she replied curtly, never losing her courtesy. Damn this girl and her courtesies. One could never tell what she was really thinking. 

“Don’t thank me. I’m just sorry you can’t dance with these other boys,” he said. She didn’t say anything, but he could tell she was sorry about this fact too. 

They didn’t speak much the rest of their dance, but at least he had saved her from Joffrey. Even if he found her annoying, she didn’t deserve to be with someone she clearly had an uncomfortable history with. He had only met that boy a few times, but even he could tell there was something wrong with him. He only hoped he hadn’t hurt Sansa. 

Eventually, their strange waltz came to an end and he parted ways with the oldest Stark girl. While he wouldn't say he enjoyed her company, perhaps she wasn’t as vapid as he thought. At least she never commented on his appearance. 

As he left the ballroom, he saw the older men walk in, and he felt sympathy for all of them. It was cruel, really, to let them dance with boys their own age only to be rudely awoken by their true suitors. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sansa’s face drop even more at the sight of the old men, and it made something unwelcome pang in his heart. 

Sansa 

Her run-in with her guardian, who apparently was about to not be a guardian at all, was strange to say the least. While she didn’t particularly mind dancing with him (he was far better than Joffrey) she had originally wanted to dance with Margaery’s brother, Loras Tyrell, and she was a little disappointed that he went for Dany instead of her. After the young commanders left she was met with the men she was actually going to be courting. 

These men were much, much older, and their wives had either vanished or passed away and now they were looking for fresh meat. A few of them looked her up and down before moving on, which made her feel strange. All her life she had been anticipating this day, but really she was just being shown off like cattle for sale. 

After a few moments of being passed over, a tall man with scary eyes and a stern expression on his face came up to her. After a beat she recognized him as Tywin Lannister. He must’ve noticed her face turning paler, as his turned into a slight smirk. 

“May I have this dance, Miss Stark?” he asked politely. Far too polite for the sort of man he was. She nodded, of course. 

“Yes, sir,” she said kindly. One could never be rude to someone like Tywin Lannister if they didn’t want to end up in the colonies or on the wall. 

He took her hands in his, which were nearly as cold as his expression, and began a slow dance with her. He was not one for smalltalk, clearly, as he didn’t speak to her at all. While they danced, he looked at her like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve. She couldn’t tell if he was actually interested or just playing her, but either way she silently prayed he wouldn’t be one of her matches. 

After a few moments of dancing together in silence, he did end up speaking to her. 

“How are you liking the ball?” he asked. The question felt like a test. 

“It’s lovely, sir. I’ve enjoyed it very much so far,” she responded, knowing it was a safe answer. And it wasn’t a complete lie. She wasn’t miserable, it just didn’t quite live up to her idyllic dreams. 

He seemed to immediately see through her half-lie, but only smirked further. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. You’ve grown to be such a pretty girl, haven’t you?” he comments. Sansa wanted to crawl out of her skin. 

She nods, unsure how to respond to his strange behavior around her. She’s barely even been around men who aren’t her father, let alone have them comment on her appearance like this. She’d just realized that she was completely out of her depth here. 

He didn’t say anything to her further, much to her relief, and their dance soon ended, leaving her feeling strange. 

After her dance with Tywin Lannister, one of the lesser commanders pulled her aside and led her to the interview room, where they’d ask her questions so that every eligible commander could understand the kind of person she was. 

As she was led into the dark room, she was suddenly more terrified than she’d been the entire evening. The questions mattered more than anything, and would be a big factor in whether or not she’d find a good match. 

The commander who’d be interviewing her had a kind face and seemed more understanding than the other commanders she’d seen tonight, so that was a relief. 

She stepped into the room and sat down in the chair that was pulled out for her, the weight of everything happening starting to crash down. 

“I’m just going to ask you a few questions, alright Sansa?” the commander asked. She nodded, and the interview began. 

“So, what values do you think are most important in a wife?” he asked. She paused before answering, giving what she thought would be the best answer, not necessarily the one she believed in. 

“Well, it’s important to be obedient, and to always listen to everything your husband says, and… you have to be fruitful, and you have to be firm but fair,” she responded. He just nodded, jotting down notes. 

“Sansa, What would you look for in an ideal husband?” he questions. This one was definitely a test. 

“Someone who supports the ideals of Gilead, of course, and someone who is a strong leader, who serves their country well,” she said, still not being fully truthful. While those things weren’t a lie, what she really wanted was someone who would try to understand her and be not just her husband, but her friend too. 

“Those are good traits, certainly. This is the last question, Sansa, you’ve been doing very well so far,” the commander reassured. “Now, what do you like the most about Gilead?” 

She took a second to respond. She had not anticipated a question like this. 

“I like that women are so protected and looked after, and I’m glad that we’re so focused on God. I’m glad I live here and not somewhere else because I get to serve my godly purpose here, and in another place it would be harder,” she said, spewing what she had heard from others her entire life. She fully believed it, of course. Gilead was all she had ever known, why wouldn’t she love her country? The before times were corrupt, and now life was better. She had no reason to question anything. 

He smiled, seeming to approve of her answers. 

“Thank you, Sansa. You seem like a very good girl. You may go now.” 

She was still feeling nervous even as she left the room. The entire prospect of marriage was starting to feel less like a romantic fairytale and more like she meat being sold at market. She hated to admit this, but what if Arya was right? What if marriage really was to be avoided? 

No. She couldn’t think like that. This was her future, and it would only be what she made of it. So, she picked herself up and kept her head held high as she walked back into the ballroom where the old commanders were still dancing with her classmates. 

A commander she didn’t recognize, this one seeming a bit younger than Tywin Lannister and a bit less scary, asked for a dance and she accepted. She was determined to get a good match and still have the wedding and marriage of her dreams, even if she was starting to have her doubts. 

The rest of the evening went on without a hitch and before she knew it she was back in the getting-ready room with the plums who were all eagerly asking how the night had gone. Still a bit dazed from everything she had experienced, Sansa let the other greens take the lead explaining all the excitement. 

Maybe the night wasn’t exactly as she’d pictured it would be, but it wasn’t bad either. She could still have her fairytale life, she may just have to adjust the way she thought of it. 

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.

Chapter Text

Sansa 

Her feet were sluggish as she walked into school today. 

She had finalized her engagement last night, and broke her plate to make it official. Clegane had quickly turned her down, and Loras Tyrell sent her family a long letter about how he liked her but it wouldn’t work out. A long way to say she and her family weren't good enough. This left only one person, who seemed all too eager. 

She was going to marry Tywin Lannister. 

Her pillow was probably still wet from all of the crying she had been doing the past few days. He may be powerful, and some would even see marrying him as a big win for her family, but she knew her life would be miserable with a man like that. She hoped all of her friends got horrible matches too, so they could be sad together. 

As they got to their lockers, each green girl pulled out a bag with their shattered plate in it, proving their engagement status. Sansa still looked like she might cry, and Jeyne came up to her to make sure she was alright.

“Is it that bad?” Jeyne asked. Sansa knew she shouldn’t be so visibly upset, as Jeyne’s own match was probably worse. Still, she couldn’t help it, and nodded. 

“Did you get that horrible man with the scar?” Jeyne questioned, seeming afraid at the very thought of Sandor Clegane. Sansa shook her head and lowered her voice, not wanting to make a spectacle of the moment. 

“No, I got Commander Lannister,” she said with a grimace. Jeyne now looked confused. 

“But Lannister was your best match! Why would you be upset at that?” Jeyne asked, looking truly puzzled. 

“It’s just, he’s so old, and honestly, he scares me a little,” Sansa confessed. Jeyne only scoffed. 

“Sansa, you’re crying over marrying a Lannister? I’m marrying a minor commander. I thank god every day that at least it’s not a commander from the colonies,” Jeyne reminded, and Sansa suddenly felt foolish. Of course, her problems weren’t as bad as they might have been. But she was still sad. 

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” she replied, not able to force a smile right now. 

“At least we’ll be close together,” Jeyne pointed out. This was a benefit, at least. She’d be near her family and her friends. 

“Praise be to that.” 

___________

The next few days had been tortuous. Tywin had been over to her house a few times for wedding planning, and each time had been its own sort of misery for Sansa. She didn’t know why this man even wanted her, considering her messy history with his grandson. For whatever reason, he seemed to be entirely too taken with Sansa. Perhaps it was all a big joke. Maybe he’d leave her right as they were meant to marry her and her shame would be the punchline. Margaery had matched with Joffrey, and she hoped he wouldn’t be as horrible to her as he had been with Sansa. 

It was finally time for her engagement party, and the Stark house was respectfully decorated, with platters of appetizers and flowers dispersed. She was sitting on her bed, peeling off her fingernails in anxiety, when she heard a knock at her door. 

“Yes?” she called out. 

“Just me, Sansa,” her father’s voice called out. She opened the door to find him dressed in a nice suit, seemingly ready for her party. 

“You look pretty,” he said. She smiled halfheartedly at the compliment. 

“Thank you, father,” she replied. No matter how she felt, she could never shake her politeness. 

“Hey, maybe it’ll be a nice afternoon. All of your friends are coming, after all,” he reminded. “And we’re serving lemon cakes. I know how much you like them.” 

“I don’t want to marry him. Why do I have to marry him?” she asked, starting to cry. Her father sighed. It was clear he knew they’d have to have this talk eventually. 

He sat them down on her bed, putting his hand on her shoulder comfortingly. 

“I don’t want you to marry him either, lovebug. You deserve someone who loves you as much as I do. You deserve all the happiness and kindness in the world. But that’s not how it worked out, and there’s nothing any of us can do about it now. Do you trust me?” he asked. Sansa was confused. 

“Well, yes, but-” he cut her off before she could question. 

“Do you trust me, Sansa? I may have a plan. But you have to trust me,” he asked again. She only nodded, now truly puzzled. Was this what all of his cryptic messaging lately was about? His ‘plan’? 

“You should try to enjoy yourself today. It’s your party, after all,” he told her before standing up from her bed and leaving her room. 

She quickly followed after washing her face. She couldn’t let anyone know she had been crying, of course. 

The house had filled up with a few people already when she came downstairs, all of them looking at her. She wasn’t usually one to shy away from attention, but right now all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide. 

She spotted Cersei Lannister from across the room, who was giving her a nasty glare. Luckily, her son was absent from the event. 

Not as many people were in her garden, luckily, so she went out there as a form of escape. What a strange idea, she thought. She needed an escape from her own party. While outside, she spotted Sandor patrolling since he was technically still her guardian. She was suddenly very angry with him. If Loras was already going to turn her down, why couldn’t he marry her? She didn’t like him very much, but he was leagues better than Lannister. 

While sitting down on one of the benches near their small pond, she noticed something else. A van slowly pulled up and parked in the back of her house. It couldn’t have been one of her guests, as they would never drive in a van and would never park in the back. The only way anyone would park in the back of a house would be to take them by surprise. The big van almost looked like the ones meant to take people to prison. She’d never really seen one, but she knew they were big and imposing. 

If the eyes were here, they must have had the wrong address. There was nothing at her engagement party that would warrant any questioning or god forbid an arrest. 

As she saw figures in black emerging from the van, she quickly went inside fearfully. People wearing all black who weren’t guardians meant only one thing: the eyes. 

She was about to find her father and tell him what she’d seen when an unfamiliar commander came through the door with an unfriendly expression on his face. Whoever he was, he wasn’t here to celebrate a young girl’s engagement. 

“Where is Commander Stark?” the man asked and Sansa felt her blood run cold. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Why would anyone come for her father? 

Jeyne found her frightened eyes in the sea of people, looking just as confused as Sansa did. Jeyne went over to Sansa, looking entirely perplexed. 

“Why would they want your father?” Jeyne asked in a hushed voice. Sansa couldn’t respond. She didn’t know how. 

Then she remembered his words to her earlier that day. 

He had a plan, he had told her. A plan to save her from marrying Tywin Lannister. Only a treasonous plan would involve going against one of the most powerful commanders in the country. 

Suddenly her father emerged from the kitchen with his hands behind his back, looking resigned but not surprised. Why wouldn’t he look surprised, she thought. How could he ever anticipate this? 

“Whats going on?” she called out, wanting someone to tell her anything for once. 

“Your father is a traitor,” the unfamiliar commander spat at her, scowling. She felt tears welling in her eyes as the world seemed to spin. A traitor? There was no way. 

“No, this is a mistake, you have the wrong person!” she felt herself nearly yelling. She just about ran to help her father before she felt Jeyne pulling her back. 

Sansa started sobbing. Bran and Rickon came out of their rooms to see what the commotion was about then, and quickly retreated once seeing the eyes. Sansa spied her mother, hoping maybe she could help. 

“Mother you have to tell them, he didn’t do anything, he wouldn’t!” she cried, her tears overpowering her words. Some people were laughing at the spectacle she made, but she didn’t care about public appearances for the first time in her life. 

“She’s coming with us too,” one of the eyes said, while another one put her mother in handcuffs. Sansa didn’t understand. They couldn’t do this. Her family was good, they served their country. They weren’t traitors. 

“Leave the children for now,” she heard the commander tell the eyes. “We’ll move forward with the assumption that they’re innocent. They'll be taken for questioning soon.” 

Sansa’s sobs were so loud she thought the whole world might be able to hear them. She looked over at Sandor, who was standing in the corner of the room. Wasn’t he supposed to protect them? How could he just stand here and let them take away her parents? 

Jeyne pulled her into a hug, trying to console the broken Sansa. She watched as the eyes dragged away her parents. Her mother was thrashing and trying to fight them off, but her father seemed much more stoic about it all. 

Sansa ran out of Jeyne’s grasp to watch them be taken away into that big scary van. She watched the van drive away, and it was like all of her happiness and childhood was taken away with it. Another arm pulled her away, this one much stronger than Jeyne’s had been. She looked back and saw Sandor holding her back. 

“Don’t watch,” he said gruffly. 

She pulled her arm away before running upstairs to her room. Everyone was probably staring and would go home to their families and laugh about the Stark family's newest scandal. But Sansa wouldn’t sit at the dinner table with her family tonight. 

Suddenly, she had a horrible, sinking thought that she tried her best to get rid of. 

What if she never did again?

Chapter Text

Sansa 

Sansa was still sobbing into her pillow when more people came to her house. 

Commander Judd, who she later discerned was in charge of criminal investigations, came up to her room and found her crying. 

“Miss Stark?” he asked. She jumped, not having anticipated anyone being there.

“Yes?” she responded, her voice cracking from emotion. 

“We need to take you in and your siblings in for questioning. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” he told her, speaking calmly. 

“What’s going on with my parents?” she asked softly, slightly afraid of him and still on edge from everything that had happened that day. 

“I’m afraid we can’t tell you anything further,” he said, his voice a bit more stern now. He then left her room, and she assumed she should follow him. 

Bran, Rickon, and Arya were already downstairs, standing next to two of the eyes. They weren’t crying anymore, but they were obviously very distressed. Sansa wondered what that would be like, especially for Rickon, to be so small and have your entire world change so quickly. 

Rickon immediately gave her a hug when he saw her and she instantly returned it. Bran was a little more standoffish and didn't go in for an embrace, but she could tell he needed her support too. Arya was clearly more angry than sad, probably planning how to get back at the entire country of Gilead for wronging them. 

The eyes and Commander Judd led them to a car waiting outside their home. Rickon still clung to her and Bran wasn’t far away from the two. Even Arya was clinging a bit, though she would never admit it. Sansa wondered what it was they thought her family had done. Surely it was all a mistake. They would do some questioning, realize they got the wrong people, and send them on their way with profuse apologies. Yes, that had to be it, she thought. 

The car was a little cramped with the four of them stuffed into the backseat. Sansa didn’t say a word to her siblings, just staring at the window as she watched trees and other houses pass by. 

After about thirty minutes of driving, they reached a large imposing building she supposed was some sort of jail. There were eyes patrolling the perimeters and a big gate protecting whatever was held inside. They went through a check point at the gate before their car pulled up in front of the entrance. 

She and her siblings were ushered out of the car by the eyes and Commander Judd went with them into the large building. She was quickly separated from her siblings and ushered into a room that seemed to be for interrogations.

She sat down in a chair across from a large desk. Commander Judd sat down across from her. 

“Now, Sansa, I only want to ask you a few questions. Have you ever heard your father mention anything suspicious?” he asked. Sansa considered telling the truth and mentioning their conversation prior that day, but she didn’t want anything bad to happen to her father, so she decided to lie. 

“No, I've never heard him say anything strange. Please, can’t you tell me what they think he did?” she asked again. The commander sighed. 

“I’ll be honest with you. Your father is potentially being charged with treason. You were probably too young to remember The Night of Tears, weren't you?” he asked. Sansa had heard of it, of course. Nearly a hundred young children from Gilead were taken on a flight to Canada, never to be seen again. 

“No, I don’t remember it,” she responded. 

“Well, we have reason to believe that your father may have aided the terrorists in stealing our children. You know what this would mean for him if proven to be true, yes?” he asked. Sansa froze. 

They thought he was a terrorist who would steal children? Her father, who told bad jokes at dinner and hugged her when she cried? Now she was sure they were wrong. 

“There’s no way that’s true. My father loves his country, I’m sure of it. He would never do something like that,” she desperately tried to explain. 

“I know you believe that, Sansa. You seem to be a good girl.” 

“What about my mother? Why did they take her too?” she inquired. 

“She may have conspired with your father in aiding these terrorists. And it’s not just The Night of Tears. We have evidence to suspect that your parents may have been helping Mayday for years now,” he told her. Sansa didn’t know what to do. 

This just couldn’t be true. 

“But they’ve served Gilead for years. How could they possibly be terrorists?” she asked, tears threatening to spill once again. 

“Many people we’ve thought were good, God fearing people have turned out to be spies or conspiracists. You truly never know. But you and your siblings have nothing to fear, I can assure you,” Commander Judd tried to reassure her. 

“But what would happen to us if they were convicted? They would be…” she couldn’t finish her sentence. 

“Well, you’re to be married soon, aren’t you?” he asked. In all of the events of the day, she had forgotten about her impending marriage. She nodded. 

“Well, then, you’ll live with your husband. I’m not sure where your siblings would end up, but they would be safe. You’re free to go back to the waiting room, Sansa. For your sake, and your family’s sake, I hope we’re wrong.” 

“Can I see them?” she asked. She knew it was a long shot, but perhaps if she could only speak to her parents, she could get the truth. Commander Judd considered it for a moment, before nodding. 

“You’ll be allowed to speak to them for a few minutes. Your conversation will be heavily monitored, of course,” he told her. Sansa let out a breath. She would at least be able to see them before it went to a trial. If it went to a trial. 

She left the interrogation room with an eye leading her down a long hallway lined with cells. She shuttered at the thought of her parents being kept in these conditions. 

As she got to a cell towards the end of the hall, the eye leading her stopped and motioned for her to go into the cell. Inside was her father. 

She immediately went up to hug him, and he squeezed her back so hard she thought her organs might burst. 

“Oh, dad, they were asking me questions and saying the most horrible things about you,” she said, her long held in tears finally pouring out as she spoke. 

“Shh, it’s alright. It’ll all be alright,” he tried to reassure, still hugging her tightly. 

“Father, you have to tell them it’s not true. We’ll prove your innocence, we have to. You’re not a terrorist,” she said, truly believing her words. He only sighed. 

“Listen to me. No matter what happens, I need you to look after your siblings. They need you. Even Arya. You’re the oldest besides Robb, and you’re all they have right now,” He told her, his voice firm in its resolution. This only made her cry harder. 

“Don’t talk like that. You’ll get out, I’m sure. They’ll figure out you didn’t do anything and they’ll let you go,” she pleaded with him. He gave her a kiss on the forehead. 

“You’ll be okay, lovebug. I know you will,” she nearly sobbed at the nickname. She used to be embarrassed of it and would tell her to stop calling her un ladylike names, but right now, that silly nickname was the greatest word she’d ever heard in her life. 

Entirely too soon, one of the eyes came back, signaling it was time for her to leave. 

“No, please, just a few more minutes, please!” She was so distraught. Her father gave her a soft smile. 

“Go with him, Sansa. You have to be strong now.” 

Sandor 

This had to be the strangest few days he ever had. 

He felt bad for the Stark girl having to marry Tywin Lannister, but there was no way he was sticking himself with a wife already. He could surely avoid that particular peril for a few years. 

Sansa looked so miserable at a party that was meant for her that he almost considered taking it back entirely, but he knew better. She knew this was an outcome she needed to be prepared for. 

What no one had considered as an outcome of the day was the state coming to arrest Ned Stark at his daughter’s engagement party. As their guardian, he was usually informed of everything that went on at their home even when the Starks didn’t, but he was just as taken aback as the family was. 

Sansa’s violent sobs wrang through his ear drums even now, standing in front of these people in this church, taking his vows to become an official commander. He said what he had to say, but his heart wasn’t in it and he wasn’t even really listening. He couldn’t stop thinking about that damn girl. 

The look she gave him when he pulled her back yesterday was haunting him. Her eyes were so full of hurt. She’d been betrayed by every institution she was taught to believe in. She truly thought these people would always protect her and they had just stolen away her family, maybe for good. That look of betrayal reminded him of himself a lifetime ago. Perhaps that was how he looked at his brother when he burned him. 

As he stepped out of the church, now officially a commander, he was met with an unexpected face. 

“Aunt Lydia? What are you doing here?” he asked. He didn’t know the woman very well, but he knew she was to be respected and sometimes feared, depending on who you were or what you had done. 

“The Stark family has had quite a few days, haven’t they?” she asked. He scoffed. 

“Quite a few days isn't doing it justice. Wouldn’t want to be Commander Stark right about now,” he told her. She had this look in her eyes, like she could see through every thought he’d ever had or would ever have. 

“You know their girl, Sansa, don’t you? You were matched with her if I remember correctly.” 

He nodded. 

"She's marrying Lannister, isn’t she?” he asked. He knew it was true, of course. He wasn’t sure why they were both asking questions they already clearly knew the answers to. 

“She was. He’s ended the engagement now that her family are potentially criminals,” she explained. Her face told him there was something she wanted. 

“What are you asking me to do?” he asked, although he had his suspicions. 

“You should marry her. If her parents are convicted, which I strongly suspect they will be, they’ll be hung as traitors. She’ll have no one and nothing. The younger ones could be placed in new families, people are always desperate for children, after all, but she’s too old. You could protect her. If you don’t take her, no one will,” she explained, her voice all too calm for the kind of talk they were having. 

“So either I marry her or what, she stays in your school an extra year? Maybe goes to live with her brother?” he asked. He wasn’t sure if the stakes were truly as serious as Aunt Lydia was acting. 

“Either you marry her or she’s hung along with her parents.” 

This made him freeze. 

“They wouldn’t do that,” he said, hoping she was just bluffing for her own agenda. 

“Oh, but they would. Children of traitors are rarely treated kindly, I’m afraid. They’d hang her along with her family as an example of what will happen if anyone aids terrorism,” she said. He knew she was probably right. This country loved their examples. 

Sandor just sighed. He knew what he had to do, even if he really didn’t want to do it. A wife was something tangible and real, truly tying him to Gilead in every way. It would crush every hope he had of escaping this hellhole. But he wouldn’t let this little girl die, not when he could prevent it. 

“Fine. I’ll marry her,” he told her, already having made up his mind. Aunt Lydia gave him a slight smile. It was a little scary. He had never seen this woman smile, not even a bit. 

“Good. She's a nice girl. I’d hate to see such potential wasted like that,” she said before leaving. 

He put his head in his hands, unsure what to do now. He thought he had avoided marriage, but apparently he had to marry Sansa or else she’d be hung, and he wouldn’t let that happen if he could help it. 

Being a commander, he now had a driver and his own car. He knew where he’d need to drive first. 

Sansa 

Sansa had stopped crying a day ago, and now just felt empty. Her parents were arrested, her engagement had been broken off, and now she had no real direction or future. She hadn’t been to school in a few days, afraid of the humiliation that surely awaited her. Not only was she poorer than the others and less powerful, but now her family were seen as traitors too. Living without her parents at home was hard, but she was grateful for her Martha. Without her, she would surely have starved by now. 

Before she could get too deep in her thoughts again, she heard her doorbell ring. Probably the eyes coming to take her away too, she grimly thought. 

She was pleasantly surprised to see Sandor Clegane. 

“Sansa. Can I come in?” he asked with no formalities or courtesies. She didn’t understand how he’d made it so far in Gilead with such terrible manners, but she let him in. It was nice to see someone who wasn’t a member of her household. 

“What is it?” she questioned, her tone more rude than she would have ever been before all this. 

“We need to talk. Can I sit?” he asked. She nodded and sat across from him in the living room. 

“Is it about my parents? Do you know anything?” she questioned, a little too eager. He grimaced, so she knew it could be nothing good. Her heart sank instantly. 

“Not directly. But I've heard things,” he told her. 

“What things?” she pressed. She knew she was being pushy, but she didn’t care. This was her family, and she was getting answers. He sighed, bracing himself to tell her what was surely soul crushing news. 

“I’ve heard they’ll almost certainly be convicted,” he said bluntly. If her heart could sink anymore, it did. She had secretly thought this would be the case since they hadn’t come back for a few days, but a part of her still hoped it wouldn’t be so. Any naive part of her that thought maybe truth and reason would prevail had just been crushed. For what felt like the hundredth time in the past few days, she started to cry. 

Sandor looked very uncomfortable with her tears, unsure what to do or say to make her feel better. She was almost glad he never minced his words and never spoke more than what was necessary. She didn’t need kind words right now. 

"There's more,” he said. She almost didn’t want to hear it, not wanting to know if anything else could possibly go wrong in her life right now, but she nodded anyway. 

“I heard,” he steadied himself before going on. “I heard that they’ll execute you too.” 

She froze. Her too? But she didn’t do anything. They promised her nothing would happen. Why would they lie like that? Her crying only got more intense. 

“But they won’t if you’re married. Lannister won’t marry you anymore, so… I will,” he said. She froze again, but this time in bewilderment. 

“But you already turned me down,” she said. “You can’t accept a match you already turned down.” 

“Aunt Lydia gave me special permission, considering the unorthodox circumstances. I’ll be frank. I don’t want to marry anyone, girl, least of all you. But I won’t let you die for something you didn’t do.” 

She wasn’t sure what to say. He was doing her a great kindness, maybe the greatest kindness she’d ever received, saving her from execution, and yet she was still distraught. She still couldn’t believe that her country was willing to kill her for something that happened when she was a toddler. 

“...thank you,” she finally managed to get out. 

“Don’t thank me, girl. Any man with a spine would do the same thing,” he told her. 

“I don’t think many men have spines,” she responded. This made him laugh, albeit only a little. 

“You’re right about that. Especially here,” he replied. 

“Especially here?” she questioned. She wasn’t sure what she meant. Here, like their district? 

“Gilead. I’ve never known so many horrible men as I do here. I don’t care who hears me say it or what kind of trouble I could be in. They’re all bastards who want to take advantage of girls like you, and I think it’s a horrible excuse for a system,” he said. Sansa was truly shocked. She had never heard anyone disparage Gilead like that without getting put on the wall. 

“How can you say that? They made you a commander,” she defended. She wasn’t sure why she was defending the country that may have killed her had he not intervened, but she found herself doing it anyway. Like usual, he only scoffed. 

“I only got here for killing better men than me. I’m sorry about your parents. I don’t know them well, but they seem like good people” he said. She could tell he meant it. 

“They are,” she told him. 

After he left her house, Sansa was left feeling even more adrift. She was extremely grateful that he was marrying her. She shuddered to think of the alternative. But she couldn’t get over the things he said about Gilead and himself. She cried herself to sleep again that night, thinking about her parents and their probable fate.