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VII SANSA "a sister's comfort" ⚜️
With Robb and Theon on the hunt and Arya preoccupied with her new southern friend, Sansa felt at peace walking through the halls of Winterfell. There was no brash sound of clanging swords coming from the training yard, no sounds of playful shouting erupting from the outer trees of the Godswood. The Sept had finally emptied out, thanks to the absence of the King and his men, and Sansa only came across the golden-crowned Queen, when she went to sit in front of one of the seven faces, head bowed low.
She smiled prettily when Queen Cersei came closer, placing a finger to graze against her cheek. Sansa had often thought of the knights and shining princes of Kings Landing, but when she thought about the Queen she wanted to be, she imagined the Lannister bride with her mesmerising smile and captivating aura. She became shy around the woman.
"Hello, little dove."
"Your Grace," she said, bowing her head again as the Queen stopped beside her.
"You pray to the Maiden." It was not a question, but an observation, and yet Sansa still felt as if an answer was required.
"For the good of my marriage to Prince Joffrey, your grace."
She dreamed of having children that took after Joffrey and his mother, uncle and siblings, babes with a crown of blonde hair and sparking green eyes. Her prince would be pleased with her then, she thought- her mother too. Lady Catelyn had always spoken of her pride of carrying such healthy children for the Lord of Winterfell. Sansa's own sons and daughters would be princes and princesses.
"You need not pray for your marriage. Joffrey is the crown Prince, heir to the iron throne. You will be a Queen," Cersei said, her head tilting backwards, looking down upon Sansa.
"I wish to be as good a Queen as you are," Sansa chirped, eager to please.
Cersei hummed with satisfaction. "As I'm sure you will be." A hand came to trail down Sansa's skin, admiring the smoothness of her pale skin- like snow, she'd been compared to. "A pretty little thing. Joffrey will enjoy you."
Sansa warmed at that, her smiling widening until her teeth were showing and rounded cheeks reddening. The Queen nodded as her departing sign and beckoned her ladies to follow, leaving Sansa and the Maiden behind. The sept seemed colder then, without the presence of the golden lady. It seemed smaller too and underwhelming without the Queen and her decadent, southern attendants to enlarge the space.
Sansa's prayers only lasted another minute. Her Lady mother would understand. With Winterfell so busy, their time in the sept could be nothing but short. But Catelyn would not understand her daughter's next destination. Sansa found herself heading towards the central courtyard, to the Godswood.
