The Lives We Choose

The Pink Wedding

A/N Wow I haven't posted anything on this account for a long time... Mostly because I much prefer AO3s format but hey: I'm back again. So this story starts off a bit shit not gonna lie, but I started writing it a good few weeks ago on AO3 and I mean cmon I'm not gonna rewrite all that shit. But please please bear with it I'm gonna post the first six chapters in the same day so you can get a taste of the story and it does get better I promise!

Sansa had never been to a wedding party. But she was certain they weren't supposed to be like this. She'd spent hours of the past week deciding what to wear, how to do her hair and makeup and too much time on working out which jewellery would go best with whatever outfit she chose. The night before she'd found it. The perfect wedding outfit. It was a mint green dress that wrapped around itself, black wedge heels and a butterfly pendant and matching earrings; she wore eyeshadow of the same colour as her dress and a pretty pink lipstick that made her lips look natural still, but obvious enough to be noticed. She'd felt beautiful trying it on the previous night, but she couldn't help but feel overdressed at the actual wedding.

Her mother was wearing a plain green dress and her father a boring shirt and pants. Her brothers Robb, Rickon and Bran were all wearing suits, to their credit, but only Robb wore a tie. Arya, much to her dismay, was forced into a dress; but it wasn't even a nice dress, it was much too casual for a wedding. Plus it had multiple creases and unidentifiable stains that Sansa didn't dare ask where they'd come from.

She felt like she was the only one in her family who had actually put proper thought into her outfit. Until she saw her aunt Lysa.

She was wearing a repulsive pink dress that was far too tight and short for someone of her age. No makeup, nothing done with her hair (Sansa doubted she had even brushed it), and her she was wearing sandals for lords sake! Sansa nearly passed out when she saw her horrendous attire-and she'd allowed her nine year old son Robin to show up in scruffy jeans and a transformers t-shirt!-but of course she played the part of Catelyn Stark's perfect and well mannered daughter and told her aunt Lysa that she looked beautiful on her (second) wedding day.

Her first husband, Jon Arryn, had passed away two years ago and Lysa had been practically driven mad by his death. And yet here she was, hardly any time later, with her new husband on her arm, all smiles and laughter. Like Jon Arryn had never even existed.

His name was Petyr Baelish, her mother had told her. She'd also told her to 'be wary about him' whatever that was supposed to mean. He seemed nice enough, and said nothing out of the ordinary for a man meeting his new 17 year old niece for the first time. She didn't really understand what her mother meant. Plus, Sansa also liked him because aside from her, he seemed to be the only one here dressed appropriately for a wedding party.

So here she was, sat at the dullest wedding party in the universe. Not that she'd ever been to a wedding before, but based off what she'd seen on the television, there was meant to be dancing, and laughter and just fun in general. And the bride was meant to be wearing a beautiful white dress, not whatever the hell her aunt Lysa was wearing. At this wedding, there was about 25 people max, all sat around a long table in some sort of church hall, 'enjoying' a wedding meal. (It tasted rank.)

"Mum why couldn't I stay at home with Jon and Theon!" She heard Arya whine. Jon was her half brother, and Theon her adopted one. She didn't really mind either of them, they were still family to her, but her mother despised Jon.

"You know why!" Catelyn snapped at Arya, "because they are not Aunt Lysa's family and I doubt she would want them at her wedding party!"

Somewhere nearby little Robin was throwing a temper tantrum because he wanted more cake before he ate his meal. Her Aunt was far too soft with that boy, she'd already let him have one piece before dinner, and it was obvious she was soon going to give in and let him have another. Sansa just thanked the gods that she wasn't breastfeeding him anymore, as she had been doing two years ago.