Love is a Battlefield (a Game of Thrones fanfic)

Into the Rose Garden

“So what, you’re just going to take it offline completely?”  Arya is halfway through her dinner and is eating as grossly as she can possibly arrange in front of the webcam for Sansa’s benefit.  Distance, it seems, has made the heart grow ever-fonder, and the two of them have a standing Tuesday evening video call, because, like it or not, Sansa misses Arya’s face. That’s about it on most days, but today she’s found herself actually craving Arya’s opinion on all that’s going on in her life and she thinks it’s probably because Arya hasn’t matured past the age of five despite their mother’s best efforts and she always speaks her mind.  Sansa remembers back when they were both in secondary school for that one year together and how many times she’d have to collect Arya from the headmaster’s office for ‘stating her mind’ too well to a teacher. 

Sansa sips her tea and sighs.  She doesn’t really want to take it down, or even to disturb it at all, but she knows that she has to do something at this point.  The messages are starting to pile up and everyone from the publisher herself down to some of the commenters themselves have pointed out that if Sansa were to just make a post explaining why she took it down that it would all get a lot easier on her.  As it is, she’s taken to shutting all of her electronics down at night as she’s afraid that that threat of doxxing is still very real and she’s not sure what she’d do if they ever found out who she is or who her father is.

“I think I want to post a message saying that yes, I took it down because I’d been approached by a publisher and I was working out my options,” she takes a long time then, fiddling with her phone, smiling almost fondly at a message from Margaery telling her that she’d be running late – she had to go back to her’s to feed her cat before coming over for their shared study session.

Exams are fast approaching and the last thing that Sansa needs in her life is more stress.  She’s resolved to get this sorted before she starts to adhere to the patented Margaery-Tyrell-Gets-Great-Marks revision and cramming method that Margaery has sold to her like snake oil.  Besides, Margaery’s taken Professor Lannister’s class before and has something of an idea of how horrible his tests can be.  Sansa wants to pick her brain once she has the mental space to cope with it again. 

Arya eats piece of chicken with a relish.  “That sounds reasonable, so why are you hemming and hawing, Sans, this is great.  You said that Renly and Loras both love the story – and you’ve got a decent offer.  Why don’t you accept?”

“I don’t know…”  Sansa bites her lip.  “Do you think it feels somehow dishonest to change a story around and sell it as original?”

“I think it’s no weirder than writing nearly two hundred pages about two fictionally gay musicians and then surprise!” Arya throws her hands up in the air for emphasis. “They turn out to be actually hella gay and super closeted in real life, and you finally decide to pull your head out of your ass regarding your sexuality and start boning one of said musician’s hot sister.”

“Arya!” Sansa is flushed crimson, her face half-hidden behind her hands at the scathing accuracy of the statement.  “You’re so lucky she’s not here – she’d never let me hear the end of it.”

Arya chews thoughtfully.  “Because she totally knows that you blush like it’s your job, are still super innocent and generally fantastically easy to tease.  I gotta spend more time with her.  I have so many things I could teach her.”

“Seven help us all,” Sansa says, sticking out her tongue at Arya.  Arya returns the gesture and Sansa is reminded of three things in very short order: one, Arya is eating and that is super gross, two, Arya is five years old and three, she should never have even imagined that introducing Margaery to Arya was a good idea.  “But your and Marg’s conspiring to embarrass me aside, do you really think it’s dishonest, Arya?  I want you to actually answer that.”