Challenge 11: Weekly Quick Fic 4
Title: Not Just Pleasantries
Prompt: Cold steel, eggcup
Bonus? N
Word Count: 288
Rating: K+
Original/Fandom: Game of Thrones
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc): none
Summary: Modern AU. Sansa meets Olenna Tyrell.
“You must be Sansa Stark. Margaery has spoken a great deal of you.” Olenna Tyrell takes on the role of doting grandmother well, so well that Sansa can almost forget the rumors about her, about how she is the true power behind her son’s political career and the slew of backroom deals she has negotiated and the fact that all the power in the state originates from her now.
Margaery takes after her grandmother; one second she is a sweet college student, the next a viper waiting to strike, and Sansa is sure that Olenna can go from grandmother to politician just as easily.
“I am,” Sansa says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Tyrell. Margaery always speaks so fondly of you.”
Olenna smiles a touch, and the look is both warm and full of steel. This is the smile she has cultivated for greeting others of her ilk, the politicians and the businessmen and the other sorts of people she went to battle with, and Sansa wonders if she has a true smile anymore or if she simply felt Sansa was deserving of this one.
She drops her eyes to the hardboiled egg in sitting in an egg cup in front of her. The Tyrells have put together an impressive brunch, but meeting the matriarch for the first time leaves her feeling more nervous than hungry even though Margaery is there with her.
“I’m sure my granddaughter has. Of course, we are not here just for mere pleasantries.”
Sansa’s stomach drops. She had known this moment was coming, had known since Margaery had first started to befriend, but just because she knew didn’t mean that she wanted to talk about it.
“Tell me about Joffrey Baratheon, Sansa.”
Prompt: Cold steel, eggcup
Bonus? N
Word Count: 288
Rating: K+
Original/Fandom: Game of Thrones
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc): none
Summary: Modern AU. Sansa meets Olenna Tyrell.
“You must be Sansa Stark. Margaery has spoken a great deal of you.” Olenna Tyrell takes on the role of doting grandmother well, so well that Sansa can almost forget the rumors about her, about how she is the true power behind her son’s political career and the slew of backroom deals she has negotiated and the fact that all the power in the state originates from her now.
Margaery takes after her grandmother; one second she is a sweet college student, the next a viper waiting to strike, and Sansa is sure that Olenna can go from grandmother to politician just as easily.
“I am,” Sansa says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Tyrell. Margaery always speaks so fondly of you.”
Olenna smiles a touch, and the look is both warm and full of steel. This is the smile she has cultivated for greeting others of her ilk, the politicians and the businessmen and the other sorts of people she went to battle with, and Sansa wonders if she has a true smile anymore or if she simply felt Sansa was deserving of this one.
She drops her eyes to the hardboiled egg in sitting in an egg cup in front of her. The Tyrells have put together an impressive brunch, but meeting the matriarch for the first time leaves her feeling more nervous than hungry even though Margaery is there with her.
“I’m sure my granddaughter has. Of course, we are not here just for mere pleasantries.”
Sansa’s stomach drops. She had known this moment was coming, had known since Margaery had first started to befriend, but just because she knew didn’t mean that she wanted to talk about it.
“Tell me about Joffrey Baratheon, Sansa.”