Comment fic meme #2
After the first round of got_exchange we had a surprisingly successful comment fic meme going for a while (here's a list of all the fics that were written last time), so I thought it might be fun to do this again. (Like last time, it's posted on the mod account journal because I don't want to enable anonymous comments on the exchange community.)
I changed the ( Read more... )
I changed the ( Read more... )
They’ve had this conversation so many times- while riding side by side through the dense woods, while sitting together by the weak campfire, while curled up against each other under tattered furs on a tiny camp bed. She always takes care to look him right in the eye- lack of eye contact is the easiest way to spot a liar, Petyr used to say-
And he always nods, always attempts to mollify her with a non-committal “As you say.” But his eyes seem to look past her, never locking on her own fervent gaze. Then he tries to divert her attention, whether with crude japes to make her gasp and laugh or with the deliberate movement of his hand over her curves, his lips on her collarbone-
But tonight, Sansa clenches her fingers in the short wisps of gold on Jaime’s head and pulls his face up. He knits his brows together with some annoyance, but she proceeds nonetheless-
“You don’t believe me.”
He sighs, a dry, heavy sound. “Why does it matter whether I believe you? I’ve sworn to protect you regardless...”
“It matters to me.”
She feels him shifting away from her, as much as he can in the narrow cot. “I’ve never known you for a liar. If you say that you didn’t, I’ve no reason to believe otherwise.”
That’s not an answer, she wants to scream, but he closes the space between them at once, his arms wrapping around her, his left hand slipping down the back of her shift to trace the thick ridges of scar tissue that cover her shoulder-blades.
Sansa shivers- she hates to be touched there, and he knows it- and Jaime whispers in her ear-
“All I am saying is that if you did do it, you’d have had every reason.”
A part of her wants to drop to her knees and thank the gods for this unlikely friendship, for Jaime’s choice to support her over his own sister, his own family-
And yet. Family.
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How can he feel that way about his own blood? How can he feel that way about his own son?
It is the latter that prickles her skin into gooseflesh, the latter that makes her want to slap herself silly- this man that she’s trusting to bring her North, this man that she’s accepted as her truest ally, this man that she’s taken into her bed- Joffrey’s father.
Yet if she’s learned anything from Petyr Baelish, it is the ability to sift through information, to keep what is useful and place the rest to the side- not discarding, never ignoring, but keeping it away from the here and now. Perhaps one day she’ll confront Jaime with what she knows and ask him how, ask him why...
But right now, his hand is so soft on the nape of her neck, his body so solid and secure- it’s a terrible weakness, but she likes to be held and soothed and gentled, and it’s too cold and too late to fight-
He tries to coax her onto her hands and knees, but she can’t allow that much- the last time he’d taken her from behind, he’d spouted his usual trail of epithets- she pretends to be horrified by his foul language, but it really excites her more than anything. But right before he came, he leaned over her shoulder and hissed in her ear: “Little wolf bitch.” And she’d bitten down on her lip to keep from crying out, hard enough to draw blood; the words echoed in her ears, this time in Joffrey’s triumphant crow- she could see him smiling down at her from the Iron Throne as she fell to her knees, back bloodied and dress torn-
The memory kills any flickers of desire within her, and she suddenly cannot abide the thought of having Jaime inside her. She guides him to lie on his back and takes him in her mouth instead, glad that the position will spare her the sight of golden hair and green eyes.
She lets him finish in her mouth- but while she would normally swallow it down, a thought pierces into her skull, aching and grotesque and horrifying- This is the seed that made Joffrey.
Sansa tilts her head and spits the liquid on the ground, doing her best to choke down the bile that rises along with it. She reaches for her flagon and rinses her mouth with sour wine, cheeks burning all the while- she can’t really bear to look behind, but knows that it will be worse if she doesn’t-
It is not as bad as she expects- there’s confusion in his eyes, a hint of affront, but nothing to suggest confrontation. He just waits for her to curl on her side before fitting himself around her, wrapping his arm around her waist and resting his face in the crook of her neck. He won’t ask, not tonight, just as she won’t ask, not tonight-
Maybe not ever.
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I really like this darker take on their relationship, how Jaime's lack of fealty to her family makes her second guess his loyalty to her (as it should tbh, because she doesn't inhabit his head and she doesn't really know), and the ending is perfect given where her thoughts were earlier--really beautifully done (as always hehe)!! :D
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Your comments are so so SO appreciated, as always, lovely. :)
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I like how Sansa has all these complicated feelings, how Littlefinger is constantly in her head and yet she's still distinctly Sansa underneath.
“Little wolf bitch.” And she’d bitten down on her lip to keep from crying out, hard enough to draw blood; the words echoed in her ears, this time in Joffrey’s triumphant crow- she could see him smiling down at her from the Iron Throne as she fell to her knees, back bloodied and dress torn-
My poor baby, everything about this just makes me want to hug her until the world is alright again (which it probably never will be).
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If Sansa knows about Joff being his son, it's definitely something that's interesting to explore how she might deal with that reality, and it's so believable that she might continue to seek him out, while being repulsed at the same time. So broken. The silence between them speaks volumes.
You should just write Jaime/Sansa for always. :)
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You should just write Jaime/Sansa for always. :)
If I could, I SO would. ;)
You. Are. Amazing.
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