Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A.N- Hey, guys. I haven’t been around much these last couple of weeks- university has started, and it’s pretty time-consuming. Now, though, I am (sort of) back, and venturing into a new fandom- Game Of Thrones. This is similar to my Shadowhunters fic, The Vampire Of Notre Dame, in the sense that it’s the plot of the movie Anastasia with the characters from Game of Thrones. I’ve changed the dialogue as much as I could. As usual, I don’t own the characters or the setting. Hope you guys enjoy this, and don’t forget to read and review!

Prologue

Jon

Winterfell, 1916

The boy picked up the little box and turned it over in his hand one more time. He’d saved up for it, got it made specially. It was black and silver, with a direwolf sigil on the lid. Inside, it played a familiar tune, to which two little figures resembling his parents danced. Or at least, they resembled his father and his wife Catelyn. He smiled and tucked it into his bag, trying to imagine the look on his sister’s face when she saw it.

Occasions like these were rare, when Jon was permitted to leave Riverrun, where he lived on the sufferance of Lady Catelyn and her relatives, and return home to Winterfell. That was why it was important that he brought the box. Who knew when he’d get another chance to deliver it to Sansa?

When he reached the castle at Winterfell, the party was already in full swing. They were celebrating three hundred years in power, though Jon didn’t really care about that. He was just excited to see his half-siblings again- especially his sisters. Sansa, in particular, had pleaded with her mother not to send him back to Riverrun, but it had been no good. That was why he’d had the music box made, to make the inevitable separation a little easier to handle. He had a gift for Arya too, but that could wait until she was a little older- after all, giving a sword to a five-year-old was honestly asking for trouble.

Sansa was the first one to spot him. She was dancing with their father, Ned.

“Jon!” she cried as soon as she saw him. Just then the dance ended, and their father let Sansa go. She ran to him and threw her arms around him.

“Hello, Sansa,” he said, hugging her back just as tightly.

“Is Mother letting you stay long?” She asked this question every time he came to visit, and more often than not he had to shake his head.

“No, I’m just here for the party.” Her face fell a little, but she smiled again when he pulled out the box. “I got you a present, though. Can you guess what it is?” She took hold of it, and turned it over in her hands.

“Is it a jewellery box?” He shook his head, and produced the little necklace that was the key to the box. Fitting the key into its slot, he turned it. The little box opened, and the familiar lullaby that Jon had shared with Sansa when she was younger played.

“This way, even when I’m not here, you can still play our lullaby before you go to sleep. You did say that you missed it the last time I was here.” Sansa hugged him again. The tune continued, the words coming easily to the both of them. “On the wind, across the sea, hear this song and remember,” he began.

“Soon you’ll be, home with me, once upon a December!” Sansa finished. Jon removed the key and handed it to her.

“Read what it says,” he said, smiling at her. She looked at it closely.

“Together In Riverrun,” she read, then looked up at him. “Really?” he smiled back at her, knowing that he might not be able to make this a reality. “Jon, thank you!” She hugged him again. “I’m going to show Margaery.” With that, she ran off to find the young Tyrell girl. Both she and her older brother Loras were here at Winterfell, the idea being that a match could be arranged between them and Ned Stark’s eldest son and daughter. If all went well, Sansa would wed Loras, and Margaery would wed Robb, and the matches would be beneficial to both families.

However, things would not be as straightforward as that. A mere two hours after Sansa had run off to talk to her friend, darkness fell over the room. Silence fell with it, and the crowds parted to allow a man to stride into the room. He was known to the Starks, but that did not mean he was welcome in their home anymore. He walked straight up to Lord and Lady Stark, not caring what either of them had to say about it.

“Baelish,” Ned said, his voice tight. “What in the seven hells are you doing here?”

“I am here for the party, of course. I’m your friend, aren’t I?”

“No. You are nothing but a traitor, and you are no longer welcome here. Leave now, while you still can. This is your last chance.”

“No, Ned. This was your last chance, and you’ve just thrown it away.” He held up a strange glass cylinder, filled with what looked like green smoke. “Within a fortnight, you and your family will be dead. Every single one of you will meet your demise, and if I have to kill you myself, then so be it!” With that, he left.

At first, nobody took him seriously. Which was a shame- if they had, then some of them might have lived. As the days wore on, however, it soon became clear that maybe Baelish hadn’t been full of nonsense after all. There had been a spark of unhappiness amongst the poorer citizens of the North for some time now, but soon after the party, this grew into a flame, which threatened to burn House Stark to the ground.

Almost two weeks after the party, Lord Stark finally decided to flee Winterfell with his family. The two little ones, Bran and Rickon, had to be carried, and the rest of them ran. They were nearly out when Sansa turned back.

“I have to get my music box!” She started running back to the nursery.

“Sansa!” Their father called.

“I’ll bring her back,” Jon said, running after her. His direwolf, Ghost, followed at his heels. When he got to the nursery, Sansa had her music box in one hand. Margaery was still there- somehow, they’d forgotten about the Tyrell children completely. “You two, come with me.” He paused, looking around. “Margaery, where’s your brother?” She pointed to a seemingly ordinary-looking piece of the wall.

“He went in there. We were going to sneak out there and try to go back to High Garden. I was about to follow him when I saw Sansa come in.” Jon frowned, then shook his head.

“Alright. Can you show us how he got out?” She nodded, and opened up a hole in the wall. It must’ve been a servant’s entrance. Regardless, they had to go. In their haste, Sansa dropped her box again, and Ghost was left behind in the nursery.

“I have to get my music box!”

“I’ll get it.” Margaery snatched it up and stuffed it in her pocket. Then the door was shut, and they were left alone in the dark tunnel. Together, the three of them ran until they made it out in the snow. Loras was waiting by the entrance for Margaery, and while they reunited, Jon grabbed Sansa’s hand and ran away with her. They didn’t have time to linger- even if it meant Sansa had to lose her box for a little while.

They almost made it out of the palace grounds when Baelish found them.

“Not so fast, child. You won’t get away so easily!” Jon threw Sansa behind him. He knew that he wasn’t exactly very intimidating, being only eleven, but he had to try and protect her.

“If you want to kill Sansa, you’ll have to get through me first.” Baelish just shrugged.

“This curse is not yours, Targaryen. I will gain nothing from your death. The girl, however...” Targaryen? Jon frowned. The Targaryens were dead, and not only that, they were nothing to do with him. He didn’t have time to think about that, though. He had to protect Sansa. Grabbing her hand again, he tried to run. However, Baelish managed to grab hold of Sansa’s wrist.

“Jon, help!” Jon tried to pull her free. As he was doing this, the ice beneath Baelish started to break, and he fell into the ice. In the fall, he let go of Sansa, and they were able to make their escape.

They made it to the train station, and found a train about to leave. Neither of them knew where it was going, but it didn’t matter. Jon was helped up onto the train, but Sansa was still left on the platform, and the train was picking up speed.

Jon grabbed her hand and tried to lift her up onto the train, but as the train got faster, he found her hand slipping out of his.

“Sansa!” he cried, but it was no good. She was gone- he couldn’t even see her now. There was nothing to be done now, nothing except return to Riverrun and try to rebuild his heart from the shattered remains it was left in now. All he knew was that things would never be the same- and that the family he had loved- including Sansa- was now destroyed forever.

Chapter Text

A.N- Hey, guys. Sorry this took so long. I haven't had a lot of muse for writing, which sucks- I finally have time to write and my muse runs away from me. Anyway, here's chapter one. I hope you guys like it. Don't forget to read and review!

Chapter One

Margaery

Winterfell, 1926

It had been ten years since the Starks had died. Many of the other great families- particularly those who had allied themselves with the Starks, such as the Baratheons and the Tyrells- had been wiped out too. Among the few survivors of this were Margaery and her brother Loras- spared only because they hadn’t been in Highgarden when the rest of their family were slaughtered- and Renly Baratheon, spared only because he was clever enough not to make any loyalties he had to his brother’s best friend known.

When Margaery had imagined a life up North when she’d been little, she’d imagined being the Lady of Winterfell. She hadn’t imagined hiding in a crumbling palace with her older brother, trying to figure out ways they could make their money last and stay alive. The money that they’d inherited from their parents had run out last year, and since then they’d been struggling to survive.

Until now, anyway. Now, it seemed they might have a solution to their problem- namely, the Lady Sansa Stark, the eldest of Eddard Stark’s daughters, and the only one of his children rumoured to still be alive. The rumours had began a few months ago, when King Aegon had let slip that he had almost been able to save one of his cousins- or half siblings, as he had believed them at the time.

Since then, everyone had jumped onto this rumour- and tried to cash in on the ten million gold dragons that King Aegon had promised as a reward for Sansa’s return. Every red-haired girl in the country had tried her luck- or been recruited by a more intelligent con artist to try their luck- but so far none had been successful.

However, Margaery had something that none of the others did- Sansa’s music box. Retrieved from Winterfell on the night of the revolution, it was a sure-fire way to guarantee that King Aegon would believe that the girl they brought to him was the real Sansa.

“Have you heard about Lady Sansa?” whispered a hundred voices as Margaery walked down the street. “They say she survived the revolution, that she might still be out there somewhere.” Margaery didn’t know whether or not these rumours were true any more. She wanted to believe that they were, but she wasn’t sure.

After continuing to walk a little longer, Margaery saw her brother at the street corner they’d agreed to meet at. Loras was four years older than her, though the older they got, the smaller that gap felt. It was no longer a case of him looking after her, as it had been when she was younger, rather nowadays they were more like equals- literal partners in crime.

“Margaery,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Did you get the theatre?” He nodded.

“We’ve got it for a few hours, that should be plenty of time to find someone to pretend to be Sansa.”

“Of course it will. I keep telling you, Loras, we’ve got this. All we need is a pretty redhead, a little time to prepare her and hey presto, we’re ten million dragons richer. We’ll finally be able to leave this place.”

That brought a smile to his face- they hadn’t left Winterfell City in almost two years, not since Loras had fallen out with the King’s Hand, Renly. They used to go to visit Renly in his summer home in the North at least twice a year. However, that now seemed to be a thing of the past. It was a shame really- Loras had been much happier when he was with Renly.

“I’m sure it will be easy enough to get someone to help us here. Who knows- we might get lucky.” With that, they started to make their way towards the theatre.

Sansa

It was San’s last day at the orphanage. Mrs Bolton, the woman in charge, had got her a job working in the fish factory. She was trying to give San directions, but San was busy trying to say goodbye to all the other children.

“Have you heard a word I've just said?” Mrs Bolton asked with a frustrated shake of her head.

“Yes, I go straight down the road till I reach the fork, then I turn left to the fisherman's village.” She sighed and turned back one more time, to shout one more goodbye. Mrs Bolton grabbed her by the sleeve of her coat then, and started tugging her towards the gate.

“That's quite enough, San.” She shook her head. “You've been nothing but trouble ever since you first came here- acting like you're some kind of fairytale princess, when you're not. You're no different than anyone else here, and you know it.” San did know it- it was one of the few things she did know. Still, she couldn't help feeling that her life should be better than it really was, like something was missing- besides her memories and her real identity. “Honestly,” Mrs Bolton said, interrupting her thoughts. “After everything we've done for you these last ten years, you'd think you'd be a bit more grateful. After we fed you, clothed you-”

“And kept a roof over my head, I know.” She'd also given her brutish stepson far too much power over the other children, but that wasn't important just now.

“I will never understand you, San. You claim you know nothing about who you are or where you came from, but you can also remember things like that?”

“That's just it, though. I do know something about who I am.” She produced the small pendant that she'd had all her life- or at least, for as long as she could remember. It was white and silver, with the words Together In Riverrun written on one side. Mrs Bolton looked at it with disdain.

“Yes, yes, Together In Riverrun. So that's your plan, then? Go to Riverrun, and hope your family are there?” San nodded. “San, just because you may look like a Tully, that doesn't make you one. It's time you let go of these silly dreams, and accepted your place in the world.” With that, she pushed San out the gate, and closed it behind her. “Be grateful for what we've done for you.” And with that she was gone, leaving San to walk away from the only life she knew.

Chapter Text

A.N- Hey, guys. I didn't expect to have another update this soon, but here we are. I'm not sure how long chapter three will take, though. Hopefully it won't be too long. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. Don't forget to read and review! As usual, I own nothing.

Chapter Two

Sansa

As San wandered down the path away from the orphanage, she couldn’t help feeling lighter. Was this what freedom felt like? If it was, then she liked it- she really, really liked it. At least, she liked it until she got to the fork in the road. Then she remembered what she was supposed to do, where she was supposed to go, and it was like a weight falling on top of her .

She looked up at the sign. On the left, a sign pointing to the fisherman's village, and on the right a sign pointing to Winterfell City. If she chose to go left, as she had been told, then she knew exactly what would happen. She would never stop being San Snow, the orphan girl who couldn't remember her past, and didn't really have much of a future. Go right, though, and anything could happen.

“Maybe the person who gave me this necklace is still out there,” she whispered, taking it out and examining it. “Maybe I'll find them again. The only way I'll know is if I go to Winterfell, and make my way to Riverrun from there.” San shook her head. “This is ridiculous. I can't just go to Riverrun, no matter what this necklace says.” She sat down on a rock, trying to think.

After about five minutes, she gave up. There wasn't a weirwood in sight, but she could still pray for help. She'd always felt more connected to the old gods than the new, so asking them felt natural.

“Send me some kind of sign, or hint. Show me where I'm supposed to go, what I'm supposed to do.”

For a while, nothing happened. Then, she heard a rustling in the bushes next to her, and a little grey puppy came tumbling out into the snow. The dog resembled a very small wolf, and it immediately approached San, grabbing at her skirt, her scarf. Obviously it wanted to play with her. She sighed and shook her head.

“Leave me alone, alright? I don't have time to play.” The dog was persistent, though. It tugged her scarf free from her pocket, and started taking it down the path on the right. San got to her feet. Was this the sign she had asked for? A little wolf telling her to go to Winterfell City? It seemed silly, but still… it might be even sillier not to take the chance.

Bending down to pick up the scarf, which the wolf had dropped at her feet and somehow managed not to rip, she took one last look down the other path, before heading towards the city.

“I'm going to call you Lady,” she said after a while. “Is that alright?” The wolf seemed happy with her name, and together they walked down the path.

As they walked, San wondered what she would find when she reached her destination. Would she find the answers she was searching for, or would she just find more questions? Would she discover who she'd been before, or become someone else entirely? Surely she would find something- surely all this wouldn't be for nothing.

After about half an hour of walking, San came across a small cottage. The family living there invited her in for a drink of coffee, but they wouldn't let her bring Lady.

“Why can't she come in?” San asked, cuddling the little wolf close.

“Don't you know what that is, child?” the woman asked. When San shook her head, she frowned. “That's a direwolf. Nobody's seen a direwolf south of the Wall since the Starks died.” One of the children spoke up then.

“They say the king has a direwolf. A white one, with red eyes.”

“Really?” San asked. The boy nodded. His mother handed her the cup of coffee, and she smiled politely. “Thank you.” While she was waiting for the drink to cool down a little, the boy took a closer look at her.

“They also say the king's looking for a girl. Red hair, blue eyes, about your age.” San frowned, and set down her cup. The atmosphere in the cottage had changed, and a wave of unease hit her.

“I should go,” she said, and quickly made her way towards the door. She wanted to run, but she feared that this would make things worse somehow. It wasn't until she got outside that she started to run, Lady following at her heels. Clearly, there was something going on- something involving the king, and a girl who looked like her.

Margaery

This was starting to get ridiculous. They'd been sitting here for well over an hour, watching endless horrible auditions. When Margaery had first put the advertisement out, she'd hoped to get at least a few good responses. Surely there were still some girls left in the city who looked like Lady Sansa, and hadn't already tried their luck? Apparently not. Apparently she and Loras were left with the people who wouldn't fool anyone into thinking they were Lady Sansa, but were desperate enough to try anyway. The results were… interesting, to say the least.

Margaery didn't know whether to cry, scream or burst into laughter. Loras had given up somewhere around the fourth or fifth audition. He'd folded his arms on the table, and hid his face in them, so that he didn't have to watch any more.

“This is a disaster,” she muttered, glancing at her brother. They only had a few more to get through, but Margaery doubted that these would be any better.

“How many more of these do we have to sit through?” he asked, still not looking up. Margaery consulted her list.

“Three more. And you should really sit up and watch, you're making us look bad.” She poked him gently in the arm. “Think of what Grandmother would say.” Normally, they refrained from talking about their family- dwelling on the past could still be painful, even after so long- but their grandmother Olenna had been special to both of them, Margaery in particular. It was hard not to mention her from time to time.

“I know exactly what Grandmother would say,” Loras said, then continued in a slightly exaggerated imitation of their grandmother's voice. “The future Lord of Highgarden does not slouch, Loras. Sit up straight, for goodness sake.” He sighed, lifting his head a little and resting his chin on his arms. “I suppose it doesn't matter now. Even if I am the Lord of Highgarden now, it doesn't really mean anything, does it?”

“It still could,” Margaery said, consulting the list again. “If we pull this off, then it still could.” With that, she called in the next person, and Loras lowered his head again, not wanting to see what would await them.

Finally, they got to the last audition. Not wanting her brother to miss out on it, she nudged him in the shoulder.

“Whatever it is, Margaery, I don't want to see it.” Rolling her eyes, she decided to try a different tack. Grabbing a handful of his hair, she tugged it slightly. That did the trick- he sat up and glared at her. “Was that necessary?”

“Sorry,” she muttered, then turned towards the stage. “Just watch this last one with me, and then we don't have to see any more. Okay?” He nodded, and reluctantly turned to the stage too. “Alright, next!” she called, and the final person walked out onto the stage.

Margaery thought she'd seen desperate. She thought she'd seen people who were trying too hard to pretend they were Lady Sansa, when they clearly looked nothing like her. Then the last person on their list came out. Dressed in a large fur coat and holding a long cigar, Margaery could tell that this person would be the one to push her over the edge. She strongly suspected that this was a young man in drag, and while that wasn't enough to drive her insane, what followed probably would be. Straight after walking onto the stage, the person dropped their coat in an exaggerated fashion and held out the cigar.

“Jon, it's me, Sansa.” That was the last straw for both of them. Loras flopped back down onto the desk, and Margaery almost froze in place.

“Seven Hells...” she muttered, before dismissing the person on the stage.

When they left the theatre out the back door, Loras sighed heavily.

“Now what are we supposed to do?” he asked. “We only had that theatre today, and even managing that was hard.”

“Okay, so the auditions were a bad idea. It's fine, we just need to think of a new one. I know it seems hopeless now, but I'm sure we'll figure something out.”

“I don't know, Margaery. Maybe we should give up now.” Margaery rolled her eyes.

“This change of heart wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that, if we do find a Sansa lookalike, we'd have to take her to Renly first, would it?”

“No, of course not.” They continued walking towards the old castle. “That's got nothing to do with it,” he added, which Margaery didn't think was necessary.

“Whatever you say.” She paused. “Maybe we just need to go home and call it a day. We can try again tomorrow, and maybe this time we'll have more success.”

Chapter Text

A.N- Alright, guys, this may be my last update before I return to university on Monday. We'll see how that goes. The next chapter will probably be a bit shorter in comparison to this one, too. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Don't forget to read and review! Once again, I own nothing.

Chapter Three

Sansa

The first thing San did once she reached Winterfell City was seek out the train station. She wasn't planning to stay here very long- she had bigger things to do. Once she got to the train station, she quickly made her way to the nearest ticket office.

“I'd like a ticket to Riverrun, please,” she told the man at the desk, once she'd got to the front of the queue.

“Show me your exit visa.” He held his hand out. San frowned in confusion.

“I don't have a-”

“If you haven't got an exit visa, you're not getting a ticket. End of discussion.” With that, he turned his attention to the person behind her in the line. Feeling discouraged, San started to walk away, when an old woman grabbed her arm.

“Hey, let go!” She struggled to get free, but the woman's grip was firm.

“See Margaery, at the old castle. She'll be able to help you.” San frowned, but nodded.

“Where's the old castle?” she asked. The woman let go of her arm and pointed out of the station.

“You go out here, and turn left. Keep going for about five minutes, then turn right again. You'll know it when you see it.” She looked around quickly. “You didn't hear that from me, though.” San nodded again, and turned to leave the station.

The castle itself was in a better condition than San had expected. The windows were boarded up, along with the main doors, and the roof looked like it had collapsed in a few places. Other than that, though, it didn't look too bad. Stepping through the broken down gates, San wondered who this Margaery was. What did she look like? Had she always lived here, in the North? Maybe this was all a trap. Still, it was the only idea she had.

Lady ran on ahead of her, and squeezed her way through a gap in the boards. San shook her head, and followed her wolf. Taking a look at the boards, she spotted a loose part that, if she could pull it free, would allow her to get into the castle. Grabbing it, she gave it a hard tug. The boards came loose with a loud crack, and San fell backwards.

The castle itself was dark inside. Perhaps nobody lived there after all. Still, she wanted to have a look around anyway. There was something about this place that struck her as… familiar. Like she'd been there before, but couldn't remember when. Maybe she'd dreamt about it, or seen it in a painting or a book.

Walking up a wide staircase, she came across a cobwebby table, covered in several dusty plates and other objects. She picked up one of the plates and wiped it clean with her sleeve. As she looked at it, she could've sworn she saw an image of a little girl and a tall, serious-looking man. Before she could take a closer look at it, though, it was gone. San put the plate down, and continued exploring. She soon found herself in a large ballroom, which was as dark and shadowy as the rest of the castle. As she looked around, though, a wave of memory hit her.

The ballroom was full of dancing couples. San danced among them, a little out of place in her worn grey dress. Despite that, she felt exactly like she belonged there.

As she moved around the floor, she became aware of a group of people appearing at the top of the stairs. A tall, dark-haired man, a woman with red hair. Two boys a few years older than her- one with long, black, curly hair, the other with red hair like the woman. A girl with unruly hair and a tear in the skirt of her dress, and another girl her age, with brown hair. Finally, there were two little boys, both with the same red hair as the woman.

Their names were as clear in her head as if she'd known them her whole life- Father, Mother, Jon, Robb, Arya, Jeyne, Bran and Rickon. She knew them all, and they all seemed to know her. Jeyne and Arya surrounded her- Jeyne giving he a sparkly necklace, Arya messing up her hair- and soon she was dancing again, this time in a sapphire-blue gown and glittering jewels to match.

She danced with many handsome young men, as well as her two older brothers- they were her brothers, she was sure of it. Finally, she found herself dancing with her father- again, she was sure that he was her father. The song was coming to an end now, but she wished it wasn't. She wanted to stay here forever, in this place that may well be a dream for all she knew, but also felt more like home than anything had in a long time.

“Hey!” a voice shouted from above her. Suddenly, San snapped out of her dream, which danced away from her memory without a trace. Quickly, she scrambled to her feet, and ran towards the stairs. Clearly, the castle wasn't as deserted as she had believed it to be.

Margaery

When they first heard the noise outside, neither Margaery nor Loras thought much of it. After all, there were many things that it could be- the wind, maybe, or a stray cat. Apart from anything else, they were both too tired after their long day to really pay much attention to what was going on.

However, when Margaery heard footsteps, she decided to go and investigate.

“There's someone in here,” she said, getting to her feet. She left the room, and crept along to the ballroom, Loras following behind her.

“I'm sure it's nothing, Margaery. You know what this place is like- it's all creaky floorboards and doors that never stay shut. You're probably just imagining things.” She knew that he was trying to reassure her, to make her feel better. Being her level-headed, logical big brother- though neither of those things were really his strong suits. As much as she appreciated it, she wished that, just once, he would remember that she wasn't a little kid scared of the dark any more. He didn't need to be brave for her.

“We should still check it out, just in case.” He nodded, and together they walked along the corridor.

Whatever Margaery had expected to see when she got into the ballroom, it wasn't this. A red-haired girl, maybe a couple of years younger than her, was crouched down on the floor.

“Hey!” she shouted. Instantly, the girl got to her feet and started to run. Margaery started running after her, taking the stairs so quickly she almost tripped up at least three times. “Hey, slow down!” Despite her best efforts, the girl had reached the top of the stairs at the other end of the room by the time Margaery caught up with her.

Margaery didn't know who the girl was, but at that moment she could've sworn she was looking at the Lady Sansa Stark herself. The girl was standing in front of a portrait of the Starks, and as Margaery looked from the picture to the girl she was taken aback by the resemblance. At that point Loras caught up to her.

“Hey kid, who-” Margaery nudged him, cutting him off. She nodded towards the picture, then towards the girl. “What am I meant to be looking at?” he whispered. Margaery once again nodded to the picture and the girl, and this time Loras connected the dots. “Oh, right. I get it.” It was at this point that Margaery heard a noise on the ground, and a feeling as though something was licking her foot. Great, the girl had a dog. It looked a bit like a wolf, but it probably wasn't. Reaching down, she picked it up.

“Are you Margaery?” the girl asked after a minute. Margaery smiled, and handed the dog to Loras.

“I might be. That depends on who you are, and why you want to know.”

“I'm San. I'm trying to get travel papers, and apparently you're the girl to see.” She looked around, before leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, “I can't tell you who told me that, though.” Margaery smiled, looking the girl up and down. She really did look like Lady Sansa… the resemblance was so perfect, it was like the girl had been made specifically for their plan.

“Alright, Sam. We may be able to help you. Where do you want to go?”

“Okay, first of all, my name's San, not Sam. Second, I want to go to Riverrun.” Margaery nodded. That could cause a few problems- she would have to word this very carefully.

“Well, we're going to King's Landing. We have a ticket to spare, and we could stop at Riverrun on the way down, but...”

“But what?”

“But we're saving the third ticket for Lady Sansa,” she explained, gesturing to the picture behind them. San turned to look at it, frowning slightly.

“Our plan is to reunite her with her cousin, King Aegon,” Loras added. San's frown deepened at this.

“I mean, you do look a lot like her. You're, what, eighteen?” San nodded. “Lady Sansa was eight when she disappeared, and she had your colouring, too.”

“The Tully colouring,” Loras added again. San turned to him, looking at him as if she'd only just noticed him. She stared at him for a solid minute before Margaery decided she had to do something.

“What's your name?” she asked. Loras replied with a slightly exaggerated bow that definitely wouldn't help matters.

“Loras,” he said simply. They'd both agreed to leave their surnames and titles out of this. Margaery took San's arm then, leading her away up the stairs.

“I wouldn't if I were you. My brother's heart belongs to another, I'm afraid.” San looked disappointed, and Margaery felt bad for a moment. She hadn't meant to hurt the girl's feelings, she'd just hoped to steer her away from future heartbreak. “Anyway, he's right- you have got the same colouring as the Tullies, just like Lady Sansa. I know this might sound crazy, but have you ever considered the possibility that you might be her?”

“Me?” she asked incredulously.

“Why not? It adds up, doesn't it? Your appearance, your age, even the fact you're looking for family in Riverrun, the home of Lady Catelyn's family and the place where the king lived as a child.”

“I didn't know that,” San said. “I suppose that makes sense, but still...” She shook her head. “I just wanted to go to Riverrun, nothing else.” Margaery smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. She knew that, for all intents and purposes, what she was about to say would make it seem like she was giving up. However, in reality she knew exactly what she was doing- or at least, she hoped she did.

“That's understandable. I hope you find what you're looking for.” She turned away. “Come on, Loras, let's go.” Loras frowned, but started walking down the stairs with her.

“What are you doing?” he whispered once they were almost out of earshot.

“Don't worry. I've got this completely under control.” She slowed down a little. If they just gave San a minute, she may well change her mind. Right as they got to the bottom of the stairs, she was proven right.

“Margaery!” San called. Margaery turned to her brother and smiled, before looking back at San.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you are onto something here. I mean, I've got no idea who I am, so for all I know I could be a lady, couldn't I?” Margaery nodded in agreement. “If I'm not, then I'm sure that the King will be able to tell, and it's no big deal.”

“And if you are, then that means you've found your family, haven't you?” Loras added.

“He's got a point. Regardless, it'll still mean you get to Riverrun. If it doesn't work, then we'll come back up north, and we can drop you off there at that point. Does that sound fair?” San nodded, and they shook hands. “Come on, let's go. We have to pack our bags.”

With that, the three of them walked across the ballroom to the small corner of the castle where Margaery and Loras had lived for ten years. She couldn't help feeling a slight pang at the thought of leaving it, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. If they could pull this off, then hopefully they would be able to return to their real home, Highgarden. That was all she wanted, to go home. She just wished that she didn't feel so mixed up inside about the whole thing.

Chapter Text

A.N- Sorry this took so long, things have been crazy the last few weeks. I've now technically finished my last year at university, all that's left are my exams. It's possible that there won't be any more updates until those are finished, but I'll do my best. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. It's a little different, but hopefully it's still as good as the rest. Let me know what you guys think! As usual, I own nothing.

Chapter Four- Varys

Up in the rafters, a lone spider sat and watched the events which unfolded. For ten years he had been cursed with an unnaturally long life- forever, in fact. Which would've been fine, except for the fact that he was also cursed with the body of a spider, and confined to the castle rafters.

At first, it hadn't been so bad- until it became clear that he was going to have to spend eternity watching the comings and goings of the Tyrell boy and girl, and that was going to be all. They weren't exactly the most exciting children to watch- in fact, sometimes he couldn’t tell one from the other. That was the problem when you only had the top of their heads to go on.

He did have their voices, but sometimes he wished he didn't. The boy was insufferable at times- going on about some other boy he'd met somewhere, until Varys was sick of hearing about him. The girl was a little better, though. She was smarter, that was plain. Always coming up with cons and schemes to stretch their money further.

As the years had passed, Varys had paid less and less attention to the two of them. Whether he meant to or not, he lost interest in what they were doing. At the end of the day, they were just a couple of orphans, who may have been rich once but now probably weren't worth very much to anyone.

By the time the red-haired girl arrived, therefore, he had reached a point where he didn't even listen to their conversations any more. It didn't matter what they had to say anyway. Until that girl arrived. Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity in the ballroom, and Varys couldn’t help feeling interested. So, he peered over the edge and watched as the boy and girl asked questions of the red-haired girl, trying to find out who she was. They seemed to think she was Sansa Stark, but that was impossible.

“May I present Lady Sansa of House Stark!” the girl declared. Varys just shook his head.

“Sansa Stark? That won't be her, I'm afraid. She's dead, along with all the other Starks, and that's an end to the matter.” Then he heard a sound beside him, and turned to the glass cylinder that had been sitting beside him, empty and lifeless, for ten years. A small winged shape had emerged from it, made of green smoke. Another joined it, and another, and another.

“Alright, I understand, you can stop now.” But it didn't stop. He looked down at the three of them again. “You must be joking. She can't really be...” But there was no other explanation. Otherwise, why else would the cylinder have come back to life, after all this time?

No sooner had he thought that, however, than one of the green creatures grabbed him, and before he knew what was happening, he was being pulled down, down, down…

He found himself in a shadowy room, beside the cylinder. In a tall-backed chair, facing away from him, sat a man he had not seen in years. Except, that was impossible. He had been dead this whole time, too. However, the lines between possible and impossible, and the living and the dead, were becoming so blurry today. Maybe it was possible. Then the chair spun around, and he saw who was sitting in it.

“Lord Baelish? I didn't know you were alive.” Baelish got to his feet, and as he did so his left eye popped out of its socket.

“I suppose you could say that, Lord Varys,” he replied, picking up the eye and putting it back in place. The casual way he did this suggested that it was not the first time it had happened.

“What happened to you?” He wasn't really concerned, though- he was merely curious. Once, he had aided Petyr Baelish, helping him to gain access to Winterfell so that he could kill the Starks. The cost of this favour had not been part of his plan, and now he held no respect or loyalty for the man.

“Ned Stark's daughter is what happened. Her and her cousin.” He shook his head slowly, as if he was afraid it would come off if he wasn't careful.

“They say he's a king now, King Aegon Targaryen.” Though unfortunately, he knew more about the king's Hand than he did about the king himself. That was the downside to being confined to one place for so long, forced to listen to a boy who was in love with the king's Hand.

“Of course, I thought as much.” Baelish picked up the cylinder, bringing it over to a table next to his chair. “What is it that brought you here, Lord Varys?”

“Ned Stark's daughter, she's alive. I saw her myself, just ten minutes ago.” He decided to be honest- after all, perhaps if he could help him now, then he would be rewarded with his freedom.

“Are you sure?” Varys nodded.

“She's being taken to King's Landing, by Mace Tyrell's children. I believe they plan to return her to her cousin, and collect the money he's offering as reward.”

“I'm sure they are. But I have an incomplete curse that says otherwise. The only way it can ever be satisfied is if that girl is killed- only then will I be free from this half life, this inbetween state where I'm not alive or dead.”

“Yes, it must be dreadful to be cursed, however do you cope?” Varys muttered, with a slight shake of his head. In a clearer voice, he said, “What do you plan to do about this unfortunate situation, then?”

“That's simple. We just have to find the girl, and kill her before she can reach King's Landing. It'll be a shame about her accomplices, but I suppose it can't be helped. No victory without sacrifice, after all.” He was right, of course, and Varys knew it. Both the boy and the girl would have to die- otherwise they could intervene in the plan. Their best bet would be to kill all three of them at once, but how would they go about that?

At that point, he remembered something the boy had said. He must keep referring to them as the boy and the girl. It was the only way he could stay detached from them, stop himself from seeing them as the children he had watched grow up. So, on that note, he remembered that the boy had said they had to catch a train. Just as he was about to relay this information to Lord Baelish, a little mockingbird flew to him, and perched on his shoulder. It tweeted something in his ear, and he nodded.

“I see.” He turned to Varys. “They're boarding a train that'll take them straight to the capital. The King's Road line, I believe.”

“That bird told you that, did he?” It was then that Varys noticed that there were hundreds of other birds- mostly mockingbirds- sitting on shelves high above them.

“My little birds tell me everything, Lord Varys. They have served me well these last ten years.” Varys felt robbed. The idea of little birds had belonged to him first, and he couldn’t believe that it had been stolen so easily. Still, he forced himself to ignore the sense of betrayal. He was still playing along, pretending to be loyal in the hopes that he could win his freedom. He couldn’t stop for anything.

“Very well. What do you suggest we do with this information?” Baelish smiled, and picked up the cylinder again. More of the green creatures came out of it, and they flew upwards, the way that Varys had entered. Once they had disappeared, Baelish set down the cylinder, his smile now a little more ominous.

“I think we'll teach Lady Sansa a little lesson, on what it really means to be afraid.”