Loki: Game of Thrones

Chapter 82 - A Dornish Wedding

Sansa was wakened the next morning, and saw that Loki was quickly getting dressed. Sitting up, she held her hand before her eyes to shield them from the sun's rays. "Why are you up this early? Shouldn't you be resting for another couple of days?" Sansa asked, stretching and ending her sentence with a yawn. Loki glanced at her as he quickly put a green silk shirt on.

"I should, but my schedule doesn't allow for that. Especially today," Loki said as he combed his hair back and grabbed a black vest with golden stitchery on it.

"Why especially today?" Sansa posed, climbing out of bed and smoothing her nightgown.

Loki turned to face her and said, "Because today is the day I walk Myrcella through the sept to be wed to Prince Trystane of Dorne." Sansa 'ahed' before she nodded her head and smirked.

"Well then, I don't have much time to get ready, but I'm sure I can do something," Sansa said as she passed Loki. Loki's head snapped up and he looked back at her.

"Um, what do you think you're doing?" he asked her, following her out of his chambers towards hers. She arrived at the door without acknowledging his questions and closed it in his face. Loki took a step back so as to avoid getting smacked in the nose by the hard wood. He stood outside and waited for Sansa's answer. A second later, Sansa stuck her head out, a few strands of her fiery red hair falling across her forehead.

"I'm coming with you to the wedding," Sansa told him. She rewarded Loki's outraged scowl with a winning smile, before she closed the door in his face again.

"Uh, no, no. No. And... no; no, no, and no! Absolutely not!" Loki insisted. The door opened again several minutes later and Sansa stood before him. She was in a gown of emerald green, with sleeves that were see-through, and a low neckline. Sansa was putting her hair up beneath a white silk wrap, and she had dangly earrings on. The necklace that Loki had given her for her sixteenth birthday was around her neck, and all in all, Sansa looked stunning.

"I'm not staying put. This is Dorne! Nobody's seen me there and nobody knows me. If you want to give me a false name, then by all means do so. But if you think I'm staying put for this, you're insane," Sansa told him. Loki opened his mouth to protest, but Sansa silenced him with a light kiss to his cheek. "Be quiet. It is pointless."

Loki walked Myrcella Lannister, now Frostborn, through the sept and towards the priest and Prince Trystane Martell. Sansa was standing beside Prince Doran, Oberyn Martell, Ellaria Sand, and the three daughters of Oberyn: Obara, Tyene, and Nymeria Sand. She had been introduced to them as Alayne Stone, another ward of Loki's. This had earned him the title the Waif Keeper in Oberyn's mind, but Loki had brushed it aside. Now, he was leading a child he cared for to a marriage where she would be happy, and that was what counted to him. Sansa watched as he arrived at the bottom step with Myrcella and stopped. He turned her to face him, and kissed her forehead. She smiled at him before walking up the steps to where Prince Trystane was standing. Loki walked back to where Sansa was and stood a little behind her. As the ceremony proceeded, Sansa reached her hand back and clasped Loki's. The little gesture of affection did not go unnoticed by Prince Doran, Oberyn Martell, and Ellaria Sand.

The musicians played their instruments well, and the music was lively. Myrcella was seated at a table on the dais beside Trystane, and they watched as everyone else feasted and danced around them. Sansa was seated at a table beneath them, but the chair beside her was empty. Loki had left her side to speak with Prince Doran on the dais. Sansa indulged in a little wine, but not too much. She remembered her drunken tirade to Loki, and sure enough, the day after, she had woken up with a headache. Loki affectionately called it a 'hangover', and stayed with her until her sickness passed. As such, she was more cautious of what she drunk and in what quantities. "Such a crime!" said a voice and she glanced up. Prince Oberyn Martell was looking at her from across the table.

"I beg your pardon, ser?" Sansa asked, genuinely curious as to what he was talking about. He shook his head and tutted as he circled the table.

"To leave such a beautiful woman like yourself all on her own," he said, and Sansa felt a slight heat coming to her cheeks.

"My guardian will return momentarily. He has gone to speak to your brother. Oh, I've been meaning to ask: since Dornish customs are so foreign to me, are you his whole brother, or only a half? Since you Dornish men are so fond of spreading your seed," Sansa pointed out. She knew she was being impudent, but since Oberyn was trying to charm her, she was going to be as difficult as she could be. Oberyn understood what she was insinuating and he chuckled. Taking Loki's empty seat, he looked at her. He picked up Loki's half empty goblet and took a sip.

"I am his brother. We do have half-siblings from our father, and we love each of them. Unlike you Northern clans, who insist on alienating them," Oberyn said. Sansa nodded her head before she stiffened when she felt a hand on her thigh. She quickly drew a knife she had strapped to her calf, and placed it on Oberyn's inner thigh. This was all done beneath the covering of the table cloth, so nobody noticed. The two people: the Northern woman, and the Dornish man; looked into each other's eyes.

"You are strong, madam," Oberyn said.

"I can thank my guardian for that strength," Sansa said firmly, the knife still on Oberyn's vein. Oberyn opened his mouth to respond when somebody clapped him on the shoulder. They both looked up and saw that Loki was standing behind him. His expression was still friendly, but there was a hidden menace in his eyes.

"Something I can help you with, Oberyn?" Loki asked, his voice laced with a threatening tone.

"Oh, actually yes," Oberyn answered, standing up and facing the head of House Frostborn. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind sparring with me. Please feel free to bring the Lady Alayne Stone. I've heard that you are a master of many weapons, but I wanted to see if you were as good at wielding a spear as I am," Oberyn challenged, and a smirk flitted across Loki's face.

"I would be my pleasure. However, it will have to wait a little while. There are some important matters I need to deal with before I can take another day off," Loki said, and this earned him a frown from Sansa. Oberyn gave them both a slight bow before he left them alone. Loki muttered something in Norse before he took up his seat beside Sansa.

"I had that sorted," Sansa whispered and Loki glanced down, seeing her putting the dagger back in its sheath on her calf. He looked back up at her.

"Of that I had no doubt. But, I saw that he touched you. I could feel the elevated levels of adrenalin flooding your system," Loki said and Sansa smiled. She knew what he was talking about. She had discovered a book on the human anatomy in the library and studied it thoroughly.

"Is that the only endorphin you can sense? Or can you detect my mood swings now too?" Sansa posed mischievously. Loki shot her a look and saw the twinkle in her blue eyes.

"If you're talking about the emotional instability most women suffer from during their time of the month, no. I don't feel like being privy to that information," Loki responded coolly, and they held each other's gaze. After a moment, Loki smiled and leaned in. He pressed his lips to her forehead before they turned back to the wedding. Sansa's hand went out and rested over his and he grasped it back.

"You know I don't approve of you leaving for business so soon after the Twin Wedding, right?" Sansa reminded. Loki sighed and rolled his eyes.

"When did you become my mother?"