thesphererp | Memory Share: Sansa Stark (2)

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Memory Share: Sansa Stark (2)

Outside the gates, everyone is dead. Sansa's husband was a brilliant strategist, she would give him credit where it was due. He liked to pour himself into nooks and crannies and like ice in the winter, expand and destroy them from the inside out. He didn't play by the rules, and those that had played by them this long were now dead.

The last time Sansa had had a memory play out over the network, it had been of her father's death. She's grown considerably since then, blossomed into a beautiful young woman, very much the image of her mother to those who knew her, as she sweeps through the dark walls of Winterfell. She's stiff as she walks as fast as she can, her hood pulled up over her head to mask her bright red hair. Perhaps, in the hustle and bustle, she will be missed. She certainly looks worse for ware, her skin ashen, her blue eyes dulled. It's only a matter of time before her husband returns from the battle outside their gates. And when he came, he would bring pain with him.

She doesn't have much of a plan, truth be told. Get out, run as far, far as she could and hope some of the Baratheon army at her gates had survived and would offer her protection. She wouldn't survive outside the castle walls for long. She had no weapons, no training.

Ramsay will be returning soon, and she won't be around for it. She climbs the ramparts, as quickly as she dares so as not to attract attention, turning this way and that so as to avoid anyone. There's a way down into one of the courtyards, she realizes, that she could climb down and be out the gates before anyone noticed. Glancing behind her, Sansa steps out into the open, on a small platform high above the courtyard. When she turns her gaze forward, it's to see the sharp end of an arrow aimed directly at her.

She registers the woman holding the bow- Myranda Bones. Her handmaiden, and Ramsay's lover. She'd made it quite clear she was the favorite, only not wed to him as she was lowborn and Ramsay had only just been legitimized. Myranda, hoity and proud, stands with her bow drawn taught. At her shoulder- Reek.

Sansa stands tall. "My lady," Myranda says as pretty as she pleases, like she weren't moments from sending the arrow straight into her lady's heart. "I've come to escort you back to your chamber".

The shadow of the man she'd once known as Theon Greyjoy speaks, and when he does, his affection is clear, "Go with her. Please," is his plea.

There is a moment where no one breathes, but Myranda pulls back the string just a little bit more. Choosing her words as carefully as she always did, the Stark in Winterfell speaks, "I know what Ramsay is." A monster. "I know what he'll do to me." She can't help it, but her eyes drift toward Reek. He had been a beautiful piece of art in Ramsays' eyes. But he was the first, and Sansa would surely become the second. He'd already beaten her down, covered her skin in bruises, scars, cuts. He raped her every night, tried to break down what no one else had succeeded in doing. She didn't want what happened to Reek to happen to her. But it was only a matter of time. "If I am to die, let it happen to me while there is still some of me left."

Death would be a release. A sweet, sweet release from all of this hell, from the fighting she'd been doing since her father died. She was tired of it. If she didn't die now, her death would be slow and drawn out.

"Die?" Myranda could have been a sweet girl. She lowers her bow completely, unstringing the arrow. "Who said anything about dying?"

Her stomach drops to the floor 50 feet below.

"You can't die," Myranda continues on, and she's sure that this girl is just as bad as Cersei Lannister. Certainly she took joy in the other girl's torment. She had a nice scar on her thigh to prove that. "Your father was Warden of the North. Ramsay needs you."

She had made a terrible mistake. He did need her. Winterfell was not his. Not until- "Well. I suppose he doesn't need all of you." She held the arrow like it was a knife, her threats made all the more palpable by the ghoul behind her. "Just the parts he needs to make an heir." Her chest stung with the words. Needlessly, Myranda continues. "Until you've him a boy or two, and he's finished using them." Sansa steels herself against Myranda's eyes looking her up and down like she was a piece of meat and Myranda one of Ramsay's starving dogs. "Then he's got incredible plans for those parts." She draws her bow lovingly, raising the tip. "So, shall we wait for him to come back, or shall we begin now?"

She cannot speak. There is no answer here, nothing she can say to show her hate and fury. Myranda doesn't even let her try to come up with words, though. She's too eager- always too eager. "You're leaving it up to me? Good. Let's begin." The bow is drawn back, and Sansa stands upright, no emotions displayed on her face, ever the perfect mask. She is a Stark and she will not be afraid in the walls of Winterfell. This was her home, and these were her people. Her people that loved her and would do anything they could to protect her. She was confident in that, as she prepares herself for the pain.

But the pain doesn't come. Instead, Theon throws himself on the small girl, grabbing her and grappling with her bow and arrow. She tried to throw him off, but he is larger, stronger. Angrier. There's a shriek as the girl is pushed up and over the thin wooden railing, plunging down into the courtyard below.

Myranda Bones was dead.

But that was the least of their problems. They had just killed Ramsay's mistress. His favorite toys had gone and broken what he cared about, and there would be hell to pay. Both of them know it- they have to get out of here. Quickly, the two take off across the same passages they'd known so well as children, running up and down the stairs, Sansa screaming for Theon to give her back her doll. But now they are silent as the horn rings to signal the troops' return.

Ahead of them is the castle wall. Below them is a fifty foot drop that will take them outside of Winterfell and close to the woods. Behind them is a fate worse than death.

Theon takes a step up on to the wall and Sansa joins him. There's only one choice here. They look at each other. One way or another, this is going to end. Right here and now.

Holding each other's hands, they plunge together into the white.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Okay. If you need an ear or a drink or both, I'm here, okay?

I don't suppose I'd say no to both.

At home I don't have anyone to speak to about what happened... Theon isn't there anymore.

Well, I'm in my office if you want to come over.

Thank you.

[It's a few minutes later, but Sansa's knocking on Alex's door, a dark shawl pulled tight around her slim shoulders.]

Alex?

Hey Sansa, come on in!

[The words come with a quick smile, and she takes her feet off her desk and sets the file that she was reading down on the place that they'd recently vacated. Already sitting on it are two clean crystal glasses and a bottle.]

Do you want a hug? I figured I'd ask first.

[Sansa enters with an easy grace. She regards Alex warmly, though her memory remains fresh in her mind.

She's about to take a seat when Alex asks her the most unusual question. Does she want a hug? An odd question she'd never been asked, and she finds herself realizing she knows the answer, deep down.] Yes, please.

[She gives Alex a good, strong hug, enjoying the comfort the other woman brought her. After a good moment, she steps back, taking Alex's hands in her own.]

Thank you, Alex.

I'm terribly sorry you had to see that memory.

[Alex Reagan is an excellent hugger, and she just gives Sansa a quick smile as she gives Sansa's hands a squeeze in return.]

It's no problem. And you don't have anything to be sorry for, Sansa. I know no one would ever chose to have their memories like that shared over the network. Especially ones like that. I'm just really grateful that you and Theon were able to get away.

Take a seat. Did you want a drink?

Thank you, Alex. I fear the next one will be worse- my living nightmares played out for all to see. [She shakes her head. She hoped not, for Theon’s sake more than her own.]

We did. We met friends who were able to take me to the Wall, and safety with my brother- oh yes please if you don’t mind. [Drinks were needed.]

I wouldn’t have made it without him. He is so good, Alex.

[The drinks that Alex pours them both are quite generous indeed, and Alex does it on purpose. If there's something that's earned a drink, it's definitely that. Handing one to Sansa, Alex just takes her own and moves into her chair, dropping into it.]

Yeah, the nightmares are no picnic, but it does help to know that they are nightmares and that you can flee from them. Just gotta get out of the dome that they're in. Which I know sounds simpler than what it actually is.

[Alex will never forget that fact as long as she's here. She can't.]

I'm glad that you came here then. Because he definitely strikes me as someone who really does need someone who thinks he's good.

[Because in her conversations with Theon, he'd told her repeatedly that he'd deserved what had happened to him. And more.]

[She nods solemnly.]

I am, as well. for all the bad, there's so much good here. [She takes a sip of the drink, allowing herself to relax lightly into the chair. Her posture is, and always will remain stiff.]

It's heartbreaking, Alex. He's made mistakes, we all have. But he's done his best to right the wrongs and no one deserves what that monster did to him. I wish he could see that. And I'll tell him so every day until he believe it.

Well, I think that telling him every day so he believes it might make him. Especially coming from someone that he loves.

[It's a bit of a leap, but Alex is rather known for making leaps in her logic. Besides, there's a softness in Sansa when she talks about him, and when he talks about her that makes her think that the two love one another very much. And love is important.]

[Sansa looks up at Alex when she says the word love. That's exactly what it is. She loves Theon and he loves her, and it's so good to hear Alex say it, because it means she's seen him love her when she isn't there.]

I don't want to go back to Westeros without him. I've promised him a statue in our crypts, but that won't be the same.

[Alex's voice is soft and gentle when she speaks, because she's aware that this is a sore subject.]

So, he is dead at home? God, I can't imagine that. I'm so sorry for you both. But I'm so glad that the two of you have this time together.

Yes.

[She doesn't like thinking about it, but it weighs on both of them. She's trying to shed the weights of Westeros while she's here, but Theon... She's starting to believe he finds a sick sort of comfort in the sorrow.]

He saved my brother's life, before he died. He defended him even when hope felt lost. He's a good man. [She drank, her voice tightening slightly.]

I'm so glad he's here, Alex. That I have someone to wake up next to that knows and understands. I want him to have the best life here, once I'm gone. He deserves every bit of it.

I'm glad he's here too. I'm glad you're both here honestly. It really seems like you deserve a break. I know that this kind of doesn't count as much as one considering the nightmares and the memories, but it's definitely better than not being able to be together. And who knows, Max has been here for almost eight years now, you guys could have a whole lot of time together. I hope you do.

[There's a soft pause as she continues:]

I mean I know from a friend of mine who left and went home before coming back that when you're home, you go to the same moment that you left from, so you don't actually lose time there? So you don't need to worry that you're missing time or from your responsibilities or whatever.

Well, far fewer people here want me dead, so it is certainly something of a break.

Thank you. I do, too. [She presses her lips together, pained.] I just wish we could be more together. But Ramsay made sure that wouldn't happen. [She drinks.]

A small favor, then. I'd worry about the North without me.

[For a moment Alex just considers and she inclines her head to one side with her lips pursed.]

If it’s something he’d like to pursue maybe he can talk to Laurie or John in the infirmary? They may have an idea.

Maybe.

But he won't do it. I know him, and he won't think he deserves it. [She sighs slowly and takes a drink.]

I'm sorry. Maybe with enough time and distance between himself and the events he might change his mind? I mean, I know it's a long shot, but maybe?

[Alex wants to believe that it possibly could happen, but she also knows how stubborn people can be around things like this. How she probably would be.]

It's too bad we don't have a therapist here. Maybe if we did it might help.

I... [She looks down at the table, at the nails she'd had carefully painted like she'd some of the women here do.] He blames himself for my brother's death.I wish I could tell you more but there are so many details that I don't know of, that I don't dare ask him. Ramsay may have brutalized me, but he tortured Theon until he broke and had no choice but to join in. [She doesn't want to think about Theon's part in her torture, even if she found him as a port in the storm.]

What is a therapist? [Because she needed one, too.]

A therapist is someone who helps people deal with difficult things in their lives, especially in their pasts. They help give you the skills you need to deal with your problems, so that they don't like sort of eat you alive. I had one back home, actually.

[Had being the operative word, actually. Because there was something sketchy about Dr. Bernier and Alex hadn't trusted her, not really. Considering how much Alex trusted people everyone in her life said that she shouldn't, the fact that Alex didn't was a big deal.]

And she definitely taught me some things that helped with like having panic attacks and stuff.

[But not sleep. Never sleep.]

Sounds like something Westeros could use, [she said wryly, picking up her drink and swallowing.]

Panic attacks- like when the past starts happening around you again? Or something reminds you of something and you can't get out of it? Even if you know they're not that person and they're not going to hurt you?

[Is she getting too specific?]

Yeah, that's exactly it. It's reliving a trauma over and over even if you don't know exactly what was the reason for it.

[There's no judgment in Alex's voice--she knows exactly what everything is all too well for that. And she's got them too.]

Sometimes talking with someone about the past can help. And there's loads of grounding exercises for when you're in the middle of having one.

Like a waking nightmare, of sorts.

Thank you for putting the words to it.

Now we've just got to find someone here that'd be willing to take us on.

Yeah, it definitely really is.

[Alex just frowns and takes a sip of her drink, relieved that she's better now than she was last year. Or just after she died. Or just after... Jesus, it's been a hell of a three years hasn't it? And she knows that compared to a lot of other people (like Sansa and Theon for example) that's not even that bad. So, she just considers.]

Maybe the Sphere will send someone. I think we all sort of need someone to take us on, honestly.

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