Chapter Text
Though the weather was mildly warm, the sky was grey, overcast above them. The Gatehouse Tower of Moat Cailin stood tall and imposing behind them, as Sansa waited for the Lannister retinue. With her was Lord Reed and Jojen, along with many Crannogmen hidden about in the ruins of the once ginormous castle.
It was strange to be back into a gown, having lived nearly a near in her breeches and tunics. The weight of the dress was a comfort and annoyance. She liked how it covered all her skin, still not used to showing it so much even in the swamp. But the heaviness of the dress had her worrying over how fast she could pull out an arrow from her quiver if need be.
The dress was plain, a simple grey dress, with embroidered wolves and lizard-lions in a subtle green around the bodice and hem. Her usual belt was tight on her waist, though it lacked the axe and machete.
Their plan was to greet the Lannisters and then move into the Gatehouse Tower, where a table had been set up for them to discuss the treaty. From there, Sansa hoped it passed quickly and without too many problems.
Rustle of movement had Sansa glancing over to the tall grass and spotted Lady, who came trotting to her. Bending down to scratch at her large head, Sansa could feel herself tensing. If Lady was here that meant that the Lannisters were not too far behind, the wolf wanting to stay near her master with danger nearby.
And soon enough, banners of golden and red flapped proudly in the wind, Lord Lannister riding at the front of the small group, looking terrifying as she had imagined. His hair was blond but greying, and those cat like green eyes that she saw in Cersei were just as menacing.
She only gave a small curtsey as he dismounted, striding to her with a cold air of indifference.
“Thank you for coming so swiftly, Lord Lannister.”
“Princess Sansa. Shall we get on with it then?” He said her title, but the derision was prominent in his words.
Smiling, Sansa ignored it and nodded, directing him to follow. “Of course, my Lord.”
Aa she led him into the tower, Lady moved ahead of them and she noticed how Tywin had paused for a split second at the massive creature next to her. She hoped that would dissuade any possible threats. Settling across from him at the table, there was a heavy silence as they observed one another, before finally he spoke, a low growl to his voice.
“Besides your demands for independence. Was there anything else your kingdom demanded?” She managed not to bristle at how irritated he sounded, as if she wanted to be here as well.
Still keeping to her manners, Sansa began with saying, “We would be happy to continue trade with the other kingdoms, as lumber and wool are out main supplies. Just because we have a different king does not mean we are to seclude ourselves entirely.” It was an opening to begin discussing trade, but it seemed that the lord still had some misgivings about this treaty.
An unimpressed expression was plain as day as he drawled, “And how do you think you will be able to keep peace between the North and the rest of the kingdoms?”
Hands clenched in her lap, Tywin could not see her tension as she answered, unimpressed with his attitude, “Well, I assume like how the kingdoms managed to keep peace before the Targaryen rule. With alliances and trade, just like what we are offering.” Trying to bring him back to the matter at hand but he just rose an eyebrow.
“Alliances.”
The polite smile fell as she looked at him unimpressed, “My lord, I am not so naive to think that everyone can just get along.” Here she couldn’t stop the roll of her eyes as she dryly remarked, “No, that is apparently something that many find very difficult to do, so I don’t hold out hope. But, war is not the way to go when it comes to differences.”
He snorted, “Then you shouldn’t have started one to begin with.”
Behind her right shoulder, she heard Jojen shift subtly, and Sansa couldn’t hold back her annoyance as she pointed out coldly, “But we didn’t. Your grandson did. And even after he declared war, we did not attack. You did. We were always on the defence, protecting out lands, our people, and our borders. From the very start, the North, did not start this war. We just wanted a peaceful removal from under the Iron Throne.”
A scoff and Tywin rumbled low, “Peace is an ignorant ideal, especially in these circumstances. A child’s wish.” His mocking was tiring. With a sigh, she decided to be frank with him, airing our her frustrations with the older generations.
Laying her hands flat on the table, Sansa fixed him with a firm look and said, “To be honest, Lord Lannister, I don’t see why we should continue to squabble over a title, and a hunk of metal, that was forced upon us by foreign invaders a measly two centuries ago. I do not understand why we didn’t go back to the way we were after Robert’s Rebellion. The Targaryen’s are gone from these lands, so why should we continue to follow their rules? We ruled our kingdoms for over thousands of centuries compared to their short dynasty.” These were all points she argued with her father years ago, and now she had argued them again. Then, sitting back almost indifferent with her speech, Sansa airily remarked, “But I guess, that is just the thoughts of an ignorant child.”
At his silence and calculating stare, she then leant forward in her chair, speaking with heavy warnings, “You may continue to fight the North. But you will not win. You will throw soldier after soldier at our borders, and you will not win. When all the men are dead, and your people have starved, funding this war, we. The North. Will still be standing.”
After that, the meeting managed to move forward into trade and treaty, much to her relief. Despite being enemies, Sansa could admit that he was an intelligent man, once you got past the fact that he looked down on literally everyone he talked to, and knew how to forge a contract. He made no mention of Joffrey, as if the boy was more a title than his king, not even caring to think about running these plans by him in the future. Even Sansa could see that the real ruler of the South was Tywin Lannister.
When it came to a close, over an hour or so later, Sansa stood up from her seat at the same time he did. She was relieved for this to finally be over, holding the scroll of the treaty and trading deal in her hand. Walking out, Sansa spoke once more, turning to meet his eyes, “I do not know much of your culture in the Westerlands, my Lord.” With an amused huff, she continued, “I guess that was the folly with the Targaryens was that they tried to rule over people with so different of a life style. But I do know that, if you became the King of the West, like your ancestors were, I would support that claim.”
He looked completely unimpressed with her words, eyebrow once more raised, “You would so easily decide that the Northern army would support me?”
A laugh left her, “The army?” Before shrugging, “Perhaps not. But our kingdom couldn’t fault you for wanting independence too. We would not fight for you, but we would not fight against you either.” And that was the only thing she could offer in terms of alliance, and he registered that with a nod.
As they stepped out into the daylight, happy to finally be leaving, Sansa suddenly felt her arm tugged to the side, and a large body blocked her sight. A whistle through the air ended with the body jerking from a hit, Stumbling back under the weight, her hands came up to grip the shoulders of the person.
“Lord Reed!?” She cried out in confusion and fear, recognising his face and then heard Jojen yell, “Father!”
The older man then began to slump down to the ground, Sansa curling her arms around him to support his dead weight as much as possible, and noticed an arrow jutting out of his shoulder. An arrow meant for her.
Now kneeling, Sansa quickly took in the situation, seeing how a Lannister guard held a cross bow in her direction, and fear began to consume her. ‘Was this all a trap!?’ He mind screamed. Then Jojen reacted before she could comprehend.
Drawing a knife from his belt, he threw it, quick as a snake. It whistled in the air before piercing into the guard’s arm, causing him to drop his weapon. Another knife came flying from her husband and hit landed into the other shoulder, causing the soldier to drop to the ground. Shaking off her fear, Sansa brought around her bow hastily, pulling out an arrow, and aimed at Tywin.
Cold was her voice as she stated with false lightness, “I do hope this isn’t a trap, my Lord. As the entire place is surrounded with my people.”
The older man glanced at, before glaring back down at the fallen guard. Teeth gritted, he growled, “No. This was not planned.”
The guard began to beg and plead as his lord came marching over to him, “Please! Please, I’m sorry! I was ordered to! He was threatening my family, I didn’t know what-“ His frantic babbling was cut off as Lord Lannister stepped on his injured arm, drawing out a scream of pain.
“Who. Ordered. You.” The man demanded and the guard sobbed on the ground in reply. Continuing, Tywin rumbled a threat, pressing harder onto the arm, “If you think you would be more in danger from whom ever ordered you, you are a fool.”
Still crying, Sansa watched with bile in her throat at the torture. She had never seen someone lack so much mercy, and on a wounded and begging person at that. Still keeping her arrow trained on the older man, Jojen had swiftly come around to the other side of her, checking on his father. Behind her, Lady had a low growl rumbling in the back of her throat, ready to attack.
Quickly darting her eyes around, Sansa also noticed the Crannogmen in hiding. To an untrained eye they would be invisible, hidden deep within the bushes and grass, but Sansa had learnt. And all were ready to let loose their weapons when given the signal.
Sansa’s signal.
Another whimpering cry had Sansa focusing back on the guard who attacked them, and heard with no surprise, that King Joffrey had threatened the man to kill Sansa. Perhaps he never got over that slight those few years ago.
Listening to the man’s story, deciphering between all the sobbing, they learnt that his words were true. That his family was practically held hostage so that he would complete the order given.
Slowly, Sansa loosened her position, and gave the signal to stand down to her people. Glancing down at Lord Reed who was still half way in her lap, she noticed that the wound wasn’t too serious if given medical attention. Jojen’s face was pale with worry though, and after she gave him a comforting touch on his shoulder, she called out to Lord Tywin.
“I hope in light of these events, you manage to bring your grandson to heel.”
He glared at her from the corner of his eye. “Do not. Tell me how to command my family.”
She continued on though, relentlessly pointing out, “He will bring destruction to your family, Lord Lannister.” And at her warning, he deepened his glare. But he did not fault it, as they both knew she was right. Looking down at the pale faced guard, Sansa then said, “Do not punish him. I think the fear of loosing his family was enough. We hold nothing against him for his actions.”
And with that, she stood up, Jojen and her working together to bring his father up into a stance. Lady came over, nudging Sansa out of the way and fulling supporting Lord Reed’s weight. With a curtsey to Lord Lannister, they left in silence.
She trusted the Crannogmen to keep watch of their backs until they were safe, and turned her focus onto her good-father. Her confusion and gratefulness was sincere as she stuttered out, “I- I don’t know how to thank you.”
He gave her a kind smile and waved her off, “No thanks is needed, Sansa. You are family. I promised to look out for you.”
She couldn’t hold her tongue as she blurted out, “But you could have died!”
“Happily, Princess.” He said with no regret and all promise. But seeing how pale and scared her husband still was, she argued on, not wanting to accept that sacrifice.
She was shaking her head in denial, in refusal. “No. No, you will never do that to me again. You will never do that to your children again!” It was a command, but he did not reply to it, just smiled and looked ahead.
When back inside the swamp, Sansa was quick to look at his wound. It was deep, hitting far into the muscle. But it did not hit anything important. He would have an aching shoulder for a long time, perhaps his who life. But he would still have his life, and that is what matters.
Jojen was quiet the whole time, shaken from his father being injured. Sansa too was not feeling that good, but she kept steady hands as she dressed his wound.
That evening, after getting Howland onto his float, Meera taking up the task to watch him, Sansa and Jojen fell into bed, exhausted.
Her husband was still so silent, so she offered him her arms, and he readily embraced her. His shaking did not stop until he was deep into his sleep. Sansa laid there, stroking his hair, listening to the sound of the swamp animals creak, croak, and chitter outside their four walls.
She hoped that now that the war had begun to close, they could fit back into their lives before. It was all she could hope for.
“Sansa.”
A groan. “Is it my turn?”
A sleepy grunt was her answer. With a heavy sigh, she snagged the snake before it could attack or hurry away. Yawning, she brushed aside the netting with one hand, ignoring the wiggling snake in her other, and shuffled out of the house.
Taking aim, she drew her arm back and watched as the snake squirmed and soar through the air before hitting the water with a splash.
Scratching at her head, Sansa came back into her home, closing the door with a soft thud. Climbing back under the netting, she readily collapsed into her husband’s arms. Snuggling into his chest, she let out another sigh.
“I hate snake mornings.”
He hummed in amusement, voice deep with sleep, “You deal with them so well though, Sansa.”
Tiredly laughing, her arm slid over his waist, holding him closer. She could feel his nimble fingers run through her hair, playing and petting the locks.
The air smelt like rich earth and home. The sunlight coming through their open window was warm as it caressed their exposed shoulders. The freckles on their bodies were abundant like the stars at night, and Sansa could not keep count no matter how long she spent trying.
“You are truly a part of the swamp now, wife.” A muttered, and feeling light with humour, Sansa pondered out loud, “A princess living in the swamp. The songs will be amusing that is for sure.”
He rolled up until he was hovering above her, hands on either side of her face. He gave small smile and leant down, placing a soft kiss on her lips. Sansa returned the gesture, hands drawing up his arms, over his shoulders, and into his hair.
The humidity hadn’t hit yet, so his curls weren’t too noticeable. But in the afternoon, when he comes into the house for some water, she will run her fingers through them like she always did.
Gazing up into those fond, green eyes, Sansa let out a peel of laughter as he flopped down onto her body, becoming a wheeze as the air left her lungs. He hummed thoughtfully in her ear a proclaimed with amusement, “A swamp princess. Is that what you are?”
Tracing her fingertips up his spine, she smiled up at the netting above them. “If you say so.”