ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ sɪɴɢ

ꜰɪʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ

Two days had passed since their quandary in the Godswood, and Sansa had done everything in her power to avoid Tyrion Lannister around Red Keep at all costs, even if this would mean dining with the king and queen regent for the nights to come. It was only fortunate that Margaery, Lady Olenna and Ser Loras attended the meals and this ensured that Joffrey would conduct himself as gallantly as possible in the presence of his bride-to-be and the queen of thorns herself.

The Tyrells were gracious and diplomatic during these meals and no one at the table mentioned Sansa's new engagement, not even when Joffrey would often look across Sansa to smirk at her. On the first night, Cersei herself engaged in the conversations among Margaery, Ser Loras, and her grandmother, usually about ongoing battles and future plans regarding their families' alliance. As expected, Margaery was perfect during such talks, always so glibly charming and full of light. It was a completely disturbing sight for Sansa whenever Joffrey would respond back with an uncharacterized warmth and tenderness. It was clear that he was becoming rather fond of Margaery himself which only made sense to Sansa when he spoke of her own frigidity towards him as his former betrothed during the conversation tonight.

Margaery just smiled, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the observation. "The lady Sansa seems timid from what I can discern. Perhaps Your Grace merely perceived her shyness as a lack of warmth. Your Grace expects more from people around him which you should, of course. But your masterly presence can be intimidating and fearsome to frail girls like Sansa Stark," she shot Sansa a look as a dismissive way of acknowledging her but Sansa knew Margaery's ways and did not take offense. Margaery then glanced back intently at the king, beaming.

Joffrey, to Sansa's shock, smiled back without any trace of his usual dour countenance. "I have considered that. She's obviously afraid of me. After all, I did have her father executed before her eyes," he stated that without any hint of embarrassment or concern for how it would sound which made Sansa dig her fingers into her lap as she sat there and maintained her courtesy. Without missing a beat, Joffrey added. "The traitorous Ned Stark got what he deserved but it's only natural for a foolish girl like his daughter to feel like I'm an enemy who only wants to take away everything she holds dear." He sipped his goblet and went on. "And that is not my desire." He looked at Margaery and softly muttered. "I'm not a cruel tyrant despite all accusations. I only wanted to keep the lady Sansa safe and well-cared of. But she's pushing me away at every turn, as if her father's treachery is my own fault."

Liar, liar, liar, Sansa's head was about to explode. Now she knew exactly how Arya felt before when Joffrey made up that story about her friend, the butcher's boy.

"I'm sure she's learning to come around," Margaery smiled at Sansa this time as if to pity her but something in her eyes said otherwise and Sansa knew this was all for show and that she was on her side. Margaery is the closest thing I have to a family now, she thought to herself. That said, would she really trust her that much? Sansa was not a foolish girl dreaming of..."shitty" (as Cersei once put it) little fairy tales anymore. She had been hardened by countless experiences of betrayal. And just quite recently someone she treated like family had forsaken her. Sansa closed her eyes for a while to shake the thoughts of the Imp away, and then she opened them again with more clarity.

Margaery added. "I'm sure now she wants to be your friend."

"Is that what you want, Sansa, my sweet?" Joffrey was looking at her now. "Do you want my friendship?"

Sansa tried not to answer too quickly. "Yes, Your Grace, more than anything."

For a while Joffrey watched her carefully. Beside him, his own mother shared his scrutiny as well. But then the king broke into a grin which resembled something human for once, and reminded Sansa of the boy he used to be back when he visited Winterfell; how he sneaked glances at her and blushed whenever she caught his gaze.