DAGGERS TO THE HEART Part 1 - GAME OF THRONES

Sansa III

The thirteen year old Sansa had imagined her wedding to a prince. A large romantic affair with hundreds of guests and a handsome prince. Admittedly she got her prince, and objectively he was handsome, although he would grow more so over time. The wedding itself would have been the biggest let down of all. For the twenty year old Sansa, it was better than she could have ever imagined. The prince she was marrying would go on to become heroic and handsome (even if it would take time to get used to him not being her half-brother). However the wedding itself was the best part. She had her family with her, and that was the most important factor. The setting was beautiful, the red leaves from the weirwood were carpeting the floor red, the torchlights throwing just enough light to make it seem eerily beautiful. Now, for the third, and hopefully final time, she was married to a man who she knew was good and kind; strong and brave, who would die for her and never intentionally hurt her. Unfortunately he was currently in love with another woman, but not every marriage could be perfect, and the said woman would be out of reach for some years. Hopefully by then, Jon and Sansa would have solidified their marriage and maybe even have a babe or two, that was if Jon wanted to continue with the marriage.

After they'd finished their meeting, Sansa and Arya retired to Sansa's room, for Sansa wanted to talk.

"What?" Arya asked.

"Do you think Jon will be faithful?" Sansa asked.

"You know him better than I do. What do you think?"

Sansa sighed. "He broke his vows of celibacy to the Watch with a wildling girl called Ygritte. I know he loved...her, but I always got the impression Ygritte was his true love. He's going north of the wall, and she'll be there."

"Oh." Arya frowned. "Do you want me to threaten to chop his cock off?" she said light-heartedly.

"No." Sansa shook her head. "That won't help matters."

"You intend to fuck him don't you?" Arya raised an eyebrow.

"Well, if we feel we can when he returns, I suppose it is the only way." Sansa shrugged. "He's a better prospect than Tyrion. And we will need heirs." she sighed. "Him going north means he's going to need help when he gets back."

"What help?" Arya asked.

"He'll come across as a fool in Kings Landing if he's been spending too much time with the Freefolk." Sansa pinched her nose. "If he's going to be King, he needs to look like a King, and not the King in the North."

Arya suddenly came out with a loud belly laugh. "Seven hells Sansa, are you trying to force Jon into wearing fancy silks, dressing him like Joffrey? He'd prefer having my offer of cutting his cock off. Just threaten outrageous designs and you'll have him under control."

"It is lucky his house colours are red and black." Sansa smirked. "I'll order plenty of material, mother can help me with the sewing. He's got to look like a northern Targaryen King. A real northern dragon."

"Don't forget the wolf part."

"He'll always be a wolf to us and the north. But he needs to be a dragon for the rest of Westeros. This is going to be a balancing act." Sansa sighed.

"What do you plan on doing about Daenerys?" Arya asked.

"I'm hoping Jon can take the Iron Throne before she gets too many ideas into her head about her birthright." Sansa said, hopeful she was right. She walked over to a pile of eight books.

"What in the seven hells are they?" Arya asked.

"While Jon was looking up the whitewalker and dragon lore in the library, I asked Septon Chayle for books on courtly etiquette. I told him it was for the King's arrival. Of course, mother and father have no need for it, neither would Robb. Jon, on the other hand isn't overly familiar with southron rules.'' She looked Arya up and down. "It might help you to look too."