Ficlet: Blowback (Sansa, Arya)
Title: Blowback
Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire
Characters/Pairings: Sansa, Arya (mentions of Sansa/Littlefinger)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 919
Warnings: Mild Spoilers for A Game of Thrones, mentions of suicide and torture.
Written for girlupnorth who wanted Sansa and Arya meeting after the war. Possibly this was a little heavier than she was thinking.
Sansa is there the day that they bring Arya in, kicking and biting with every step and screaming at the guardsmen to unhand her. She turns her face away, afraid for her sister’s eyes to spot her in the crowd. Still the image of Arya, dirty and bruised, hair matted and clothes in rags, stays with her. Some say that she was caught sneaking into the dragon pits; others say that she murdered a member of the Queensguard; there are even rumors about an attempt of Daenaerys own life. Sansa knows that, while one should never take rumors at face value, gossip often holds a kernel of the truth amidst absurdity.
Petyr tells her that Arya is to be tried for insurrection and disloyalty to the crown. He says she should prepare herself for the worst. She kisses his cheek dutifully and tells him that she is only sorry for the shame Arya is bringing on the family. She says to him she hopes people will understand that she would never condone her sister’s actions. He kisses her sweetly and swears that no one could confuse her for someone of her sister’s base ilk. Cleary Arya is just a bad seed.
Sansa agrees, she’s always said so. No good would ever come of Arya’s wildness.
Knowing the charges, helps Sansa discover the crimes. Petyr would tell her, but she prefers not to worry him regarding the connection. The Lord Hand has more important things to concern himself with than his wife’s wayward sister. Information is power, however; he’d be proud to know how well she understands this now. She learns the how and why of her sister’s trespasses almost too easily. More importantly, she learns that Arya will not confess or repent; the inquisitors are at a standstill.
She always was more like a rabid animal than a young lady.
Sansa lets them think that it is their idea to send her down to reason with her sister. Not that Sansa expects Arya to be reasonable, but it’s important to do all that one can in these circumstances. She sounds terribly cool and removed, even to herself. She wears a green dress when she goes, lifting her skirts to try to avoid the grime of the dungeons. The torches cast a violent light on the walls and one of the Queen’s tall Dothraki escorts her. She chooses not to consider whether she is being guarded for her security or because they do not trust her.
The cell is filthy, although it was obviously made less so for her visit. It stinks of fear and urine and Sansa is filled with pity, suddenly, for her sister. It is the sort of compassion one might have for an animal, but it is more charitable than her usual feelings. Arya shivers in the corner, and does not look up as they approach. Sansa does not enter the room, but stands against the bars. She fears the rabid nature she sees before her.
It seems like forever, before Arya seems to respond to their arrival. She stares at Sansa blankly, her eyes strangely dull.
“You don’t belong here.” Her voice is low, harsh, as if she has gotten out of the custom of using it.
“They sent me to reason with you. Presuming that is possible.” Sansa speaks loudly, so that her guard can hear every word.
“I won’t let them have the satisfaction of breaking me.” Arya seems strangely calm.
“They’ll keep you here, until you confess, make sure you stay alive so they can keep pushing…”
“Don’t you think I know? They’ve taken everything with an edge or I’d have long since ended it.”
“Don’t you know that suicide is a sin? The Stranger comes in his own time.”
“There are other places, Sansa, where they do not see it this way.”
“I would that you had stayed there then, Arya. It would have been better than returning her to burn in infamy.”
“Better for whom? Does this upset you, sister? I am surprised it was worth your taking time out of your busy embroidery schedule to see me.”
“Whether I like it or not, you are my blood. It pains me to see you so degraded.”
“You want me to confess, so that you can ease your conscience.”
Sansa takes off one of her gloves, reaching her bare hand through the bars, “No, take my hand and let there be peace between us. I may not approve of anything you’ve done, but I would not want our last visit to be as childishly cruel as those that came before it.”
Arya’s hands are filthy but Sansa presses hers against them.
“Goodbye Arya.” She says at last, turning to leave.
Back in the light, she orders a bath drawn up and scrubs herself clean. Purified in body, she takes her ladies down to the Sept. She lights a candle for each of her fallen siblings. Arya’s candle is last and she watches it burn for a long while before she turns around towards the Red Keep. The city seems brilliant after the cold dark cell and Sansa enjoys the trip back.
Petyr’s face is somber when he greets her. Sansa pretends not to notice and seems more surprised than anyone when she is told that Arya has found a way to kill herself. Her sister is dead with no trace of any accomplice. He stares into her eyes, questioning momentarily, but she only looks up at him in shock and horror.
Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire
Characters/Pairings: Sansa, Arya (mentions of Sansa/Littlefinger)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 919
Warnings: Mild Spoilers for A Game of Thrones, mentions of suicide and torture.
Written for girlupnorth who wanted Sansa and Arya meeting after the war. Possibly this was a little heavier than she was thinking.
Sansa is there the day that they bring Arya in, kicking and biting with every step and screaming at the guardsmen to unhand her. She turns her face away, afraid for her sister’s eyes to spot her in the crowd. Still the image of Arya, dirty and bruised, hair matted and clothes in rags, stays with her. Some say that she was caught sneaking into the dragon pits; others say that she murdered a member of the Queensguard; there are even rumors about an attempt of Daenaerys own life. Sansa knows that, while one should never take rumors at face value, gossip often holds a kernel of the truth amidst absurdity.
Petyr tells her that Arya is to be tried for insurrection and disloyalty to the crown. He says she should prepare herself for the worst. She kisses his cheek dutifully and tells him that she is only sorry for the shame Arya is bringing on the family. She says to him she hopes people will understand that she would never condone her sister’s actions. He kisses her sweetly and swears that no one could confuse her for someone of her sister’s base ilk. Cleary Arya is just a bad seed.
Sansa agrees, she’s always said so. No good would ever come of Arya’s wildness.
Knowing the charges, helps Sansa discover the crimes. Petyr would tell her, but she prefers not to worry him regarding the connection. The Lord Hand has more important things to concern himself with than his wife’s wayward sister. Information is power, however; he’d be proud to know how well she understands this now. She learns the how and why of her sister’s trespasses almost too easily. More importantly, she learns that Arya will not confess or repent; the inquisitors are at a standstill.
She always was more like a rabid animal than a young lady.
Sansa lets them think that it is their idea to send her down to reason with her sister. Not that Sansa expects Arya to be reasonable, but it’s important to do all that one can in these circumstances. She sounds terribly cool and removed, even to herself. She wears a green dress when she goes, lifting her skirts to try to avoid the grime of the dungeons. The torches cast a violent light on the walls and one of the Queen’s tall Dothraki escorts her. She chooses not to consider whether she is being guarded for her security or because they do not trust her.
The cell is filthy, although it was obviously made less so for her visit. It stinks of fear and urine and Sansa is filled with pity, suddenly, for her sister. It is the sort of compassion one might have for an animal, but it is more charitable than her usual feelings. Arya shivers in the corner, and does not look up as they approach. Sansa does not enter the room, but stands against the bars. She fears the rabid nature she sees before her.
It seems like forever, before Arya seems to respond to their arrival. She stares at Sansa blankly, her eyes strangely dull.
“You don’t belong here.” Her voice is low, harsh, as if she has gotten out of the custom of using it.
“They sent me to reason with you. Presuming that is possible.” Sansa speaks loudly, so that her guard can hear every word.
“I won’t let them have the satisfaction of breaking me.” Arya seems strangely calm.
“They’ll keep you here, until you confess, make sure you stay alive so they can keep pushing…”
“Don’t you think I know? They’ve taken everything with an edge or I’d have long since ended it.”
“Don’t you know that suicide is a sin? The Stranger comes in his own time.”
“There are other places, Sansa, where they do not see it this way.”
“I would that you had stayed there then, Arya. It would have been better than returning her to burn in infamy.”
“Better for whom? Does this upset you, sister? I am surprised it was worth your taking time out of your busy embroidery schedule to see me.”
“Whether I like it or not, you are my blood. It pains me to see you so degraded.”
“You want me to confess, so that you can ease your conscience.”
Sansa takes off one of her gloves, reaching her bare hand through the bars, “No, take my hand and let there be peace between us. I may not approve of anything you’ve done, but I would not want our last visit to be as childishly cruel as those that came before it.”
Arya’s hands are filthy but Sansa presses hers against them.
“Goodbye Arya.” She says at last, turning to leave.
Back in the light, she orders a bath drawn up and scrubs herself clean. Purified in body, she takes her ladies down to the Sept. She lights a candle for each of her fallen siblings. Arya’s candle is last and she watches it burn for a long while before she turns around towards the Red Keep. The city seems brilliant after the cold dark cell and Sansa enjoys the trip back.
Petyr’s face is somber when he greets her. Sansa pretends not to notice and seems more surprised than anyone when she is told that Arya has found a way to kill herself. Her sister is dead with no trace of any accomplice. He stares into her eyes, questioning momentarily, but she only looks up at him in shock and horror.