The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

My Other Half

Morganna wanted to kill the king.

She had first hated Joffrey after hearing her brother talk of the spoilt prince when he visited home from King's Landing as a boy. Seeing it for herself, when the King came to Winterfell and Joffrey provoked Edrick into attacking him after insulting their mother, only solidified her poor view of him. Then when the prince's lies and cruelty had resulted in her own face being bruised and the direwolves all being sent back to Winterfell, she had hated him more than she'd ever hated anyone before.

All of that seemed so pathetic now. It had seemed real, at the time, but now she could admit she had known nothing of true hate. The kind of hate that had her mother glowering at the very mention of the name Targaryen. Morganna knew it now, after Joffrey had murdered her uncle, his wormy lips curl into a satisfied smile at Sansa's anguished screaming.

She did not regret punching him, as Lord Stark's head was raised above the cheering, baying crowd. Even though she had been paying for it ever since.

The consequences had been less dire than she expected, in truth. Part of her, once she thought for a second about what she had done, wondered if she would be killed herself. Joffrey no doubt wanted her head on a spike beside her uncle's, for daring to lay a hand on the King, and humiliate him in front of half of the city. Cersei would surely be out for her blood too; surely she would be left to rot in the Black Cells, at the very least.

As it was, Morganna had been thrown into a tower cell the morning after the execution. The room was bare and bland, and she was all alone with little to amuse herself with, aside from the few times a week that Sansa was allowed to visit. Whilst not quite languishing in a dungeon, it was maddening nonetheless. A year ago, she would've thought that the worst kind of torture, but now she knew better.

Her fist in his face had done little to curb Joffrey's evil nature.

"Gods," Morganna was on her feet when her cousin slipped into her cell, concerned at once. "What happened?"

Sansa was ashy pale and shaking like a leaf. "His Grace - he - he - "

"What did Joffrey do?" Morganna grabbed her cousin and led her to sit down on the narrow bed. "You don't have to pretend in here, Sansa,"

"They listen," The girl whispered, with a fearful glance at the closed door. "The walls listen, here,"

"Talk quietly, then," She lowered her own voice. "What did that nasty little shitstain do?"

Sansa let out a strangled laugh, though any amusement fast faded. "He took me - took me to the walls," She struggled to get the words out, her shaking getting worse. "He made me look - look at - " The wall she had used to hold back her grief in front of everyone broke, and great sobs wracked her body. " - Father,"

Morganna was confused for a moment, then realised the horrible truth of what her cousin was saying. She had no words to reply with, and her hand on Sansa's shoulder felt woefully inadequate. She barely noticed the silent tears falling from her own eyes.

"It's almost easier, in front of them," Sansa said, once her crying had abating slightly. "I can pretend it's happening to someone else, and hide behind my manners,"

"You're stronger than I am," Morganna managed to say.

"No I'm not," Her cousin scoffed slightly. "You're so brave. You punched Joffrey in the face in front of the whole city," She laughed, a little hysterical. "I wanted to push him, earlier. There was no barrier up on the walls. I could have pushed him, it would've been easy, and I didn't care that I might go over with him. I didn't, though,"

"As much as I would love to see him as a bloody smear on the ground, they'd have killed you," Morganna was a little in awe. "And what would I do, without you here?" Sansa was in control of herself in a way that she could never be, if she tried for a hundred years. Without a doubt, Morganna would have pushed him.