Ever After AU

The Return

The only thing Sansa got to keep of her life at Winterfell was the clothes on her back and the memories she had made. She was exhausted, miserable, and had discovered she hated everything about this man and his home. Sansa had thought nothing could be worse than losing the woman she loved and being forced to live with her step-family in the home she was the rightful heir to but denied. She took a deep semi-calming breath to settle herself before knocking on the door to the dining hall. A jangling sound rattled behind her as she moved.

"Enter." Littlefinger announced to the room, and the dirty redhead came in with her cloth wrapped burden. "Oh, I do so hate to see you in irons. I'd remove them if only you would promise not to run away again."

Littlefinger stood from where he had been working at the long table and stood across from her with one of his crooked and slimy smiles.

"You belong to me now." he said lowly.

Sansa spread a series of rapiers across the table to clean them.

"I belong to no one and the least of all to you." she growled back, feeling as though she were having that conversation for the four hundredth time.

"Oh, I do wish you would reconsider my offer." Littlefinger leaned across the table to stare into her face.

"I would rather not." Sansa scoffed, truly disgusted by the older man as she tossed another sword into the pile.

"I had a horse like you once-" Petyr began as he stepped around the table and placed a hand on the small of her back, leading her to in front of the fireplace for a moment. "It was a magnificent creature. Stubborn, just like you. Willful to a fault. It, too, just needed to be... broken."

Sansa turned away from Lord Baelish, no longer able to look him in the face without feeling vomit rise up in her throat. Distantly, as though it were happening to someone else, she could feel his fingers in her hair.

"You will maintain your distance, sir." Sansa said in a low growl of a voice.

"Oh, but you didn't say please." Baelish whispered, bringing the lock of hair up to his nose and inhaling deeply. Sansa swallowed the lump of fear that had formed in her throat as though it were a rock of some kind. She could feel him closing in behind her and what she assumed (and hoped) to be his dagger against her derriere.

Sansa whirled around, grabbing the hilt of the weapon. The tip ended up directly pressed beneath Lord Baelish's chin. His eye crossed almost comically as he attempted to keep the dagger in his view.

"Please." she said in a low and broken growl of a voice, her pale blue-grey eyes intense and determined.

"I could have you hang for this." Baelish said in a warning tone, slowly pulling the key to Sansa's bonds from his pocket.

"Not if you are dead." Sansa growled, her hatred boiling up from deep inside of her.

"I do love your spirit." Baelish chuckled darkly. He grabbed the hand that held the sword and dragged Sansa in towards himself, mouth open. Sansa wrested herself from his grip and dragged the blade across his face. He groaned and covered his face. Sansa whipped away and grabbed a sword off the table, and she leveled both weapons at her enemy. He fell back into the chair with a shriek.

"My father was an expert swordsman, my lord. He taught me well." Sansa chuckled darkly. "Now hand me that key or I swear on his grave, I will slit you from navel to nose."

-----/////-----

Margaery galloped into the courtyard of the Baelish estate. The princess could feel her heart in her throat as though it were trying to escape out of nerves. Podrick and Margaery dismounted with a jump and suddenly she only wanted to be where Sansa was. She took a run for the door just as Sansa was running out. She seemed exhausted but pleased with herself.

Just as soon as the young redhead met Margaery's eyes she looked as though she would burst into tears. Sansa was plainly crestfallen. She had so many things she wanted to tell the girl she didn't know what to say. Margaery stopped around five feet away from her and looked morosely down at her. Sansa smiled slowly back.

"Hello." Margaery said softly, by way of greeting, unsure of what to do now that she was in front of the other woman.

"Hello." Sansa replied, unsure of why the princess was there and worried about what trouble she might get into for having escaped her 'master', or even still for having lied to Margaery herself. "Uhm, may I ask why you have come here?"

"I- uh, I heard about your being sold and I had uhm, come to rescue you?" Margaery said sheepishly. It had become clear Sansa had already saved herself.

"Rescue me?" Sansa asked sadly in almost a scoff. "A commoner?"

Sansa chuckled darkly and began to walk away. Margaery was still in her gown from her wedding. She clearly seemed uncomfortable in it, fidgeting with her skirts. Sansa still thought she looked truly beautiful, meanwhile, she was covered in dirt and ash; hair matted and filthy.

"Actually, I have come to beg your forgiveness." Margaery turned to watch her leave and called out after her. "I... I offered you the world at your fingertips, and at the first test of my honor, I have betrayed your trust. Please, Sansa."

Sansa whirled around to look Margaery full in the face again.

"Say it again." Sansa said shakily.

"I'm very sorry." Margaery said, trying to put as much of her heart and her feelings into the words as she could.

"No, not that.' Sansa choked out. "The part where you said my name." A few tears escaped and trailed through the grime on her cheeks.

"Sansa." Margaery said softly on a heavy exhale. Sansa laughed softly and wiped at her cheeks. "Perhaps you would be kind enough to help me find the owner of this rather remarkable shoe."

Margaery presented it kindly to the girl with a flourish and Sansa gasped.

"Where did you find that?" Sansa asked.

"That girl is my match in every way." Margaery added. "Please tell me I haven't lost her."

Sansa turned away to hide her face as she began to cry quietly once more. She choked down her feelings and did her best to say what was best for them all as opposed to what she was truly feeling.

"It belongs to a peasant, Your Highness, who only pretended to be a courtier to save a man's life." Sansa sat down heavily, only barely catching herself as her knees gave out on her. She looked pitifully up at the princess, her heart giving out after all she had been through. Margaery knelt down on one knee before her.

"Yes, I - I know," Margaery said. "And the name is Margaery if you don't mind. I kneel before you not as a princess, but as a woman in love, but I would feel like a queen..."

Margaery picked up Sansa's foot and dirty shoe, slipping it off of her.

"If you, Sansa de Stark, would be my wife." Margaery slipped the delicate glass slipper onto her foot as she quirked an eyebrow with a soft and vulnerable smile.

Sansa laughed and cried brokenly, a smile crossing her face as her eyes squeezed shut in disbelief. She covered her face and fell forwards into Margaery's arms. The princess stood quickly, Sansa held tightly against her and swung her about, not caring about her dirtied and wedding gown. They both laughed in amazement and happiness. Margaery kissed her suddenly, still unable to keep from smiling and laughing. Sansa's feet didn't even touch the floor.