Memory Share: Sansa Stark (5)

[toivory]

CW: Rape. Really awful directorial choices. Ramsay Bolton.



It was the second time Sansa lead a man into his bedchambers clad in white. Ramsay, at least, she could say, was a handsome man, though, like her previous husband, still short. Tyrion, she remembered, had stumbled drunkenly into their room and had passed out the moment he laid down. He'd been a hideous man, a pathetic drunk desperate for love of someone beautiful. Ramsay could not have been more the opposite.

To her surprise, Theon follows them in, looking handsome and regal, the man she was once supposed to marry instead. The room is unfamiliar to her, not her mother and father's bedchambers at all, which really was for the better. The room itself was almost like a prison, dark and windowless, only garlands of white flowers upon the bed frame to try to make it homely. Theon stood back as Ramsay moved toward her.

She knew she was on display, she always was, a woman of her standing. Winterfell was no different than King's Landing: one wrong move and she would be dead. Willing him to speak, she approaches the bed, but does not go to it. Instead, she turns slowly back to face her lord husband.

"Are you pleased, my lady?" He asked, hands behind his back, a smile upon his face. She said nothing, but only nodded. Let him make the first move so that she knew how to play the evening. She knew what would happen, at the end. The only question was how they got there. "I want you to be happy," he says, as though she can be happy in her ancestral home when it is in the clutches of the Boltons. He's a difficult man to read, though, and Sansa lets him lead, keeping her eyes on him, and off of Theon.

Ramsay crossed to the bed and continued on: "My father said you're still a virgin." It's almost accusatory. Ramsay knew she had been married once before, that such things are required of a man and a wife, particularly when one is a Lannister.

She looks over at Theon, hoping he could provide some sort of clue, some sort of anything. But he looks away, and Sansa remains alone.

"Yes," she admits, allowing herself to at least appear apprehensive about the act she was about to partake in. She hoped it would please him, to have a virgin bride.

"Why?" He asks, his tone even. Yet she hesitates, and he moves back over toward her, clarifying as if she's stupid. "Why are you still a virgin?" He smirks. "Afraid of dwarves?" An unnecessary remark, his smirk just as unnecessary. He laughs, and knowing Tyrion the way she had, she knows to defend him.

"Lord Tyrion was kind," she said, "He was gentle. He never touched me." As she tells him this, Ramsay smiles again. She doesn't like his smile.

"You're not lying to me?"

"No, my lord."

"Lying to your husband on his wedding night. That would be a bad way to start to marriage." She's not fully sure he's even speaking to her, but knows now what sort of man he is. He expects obedience, as all men do, obedience, honesty, and her submission. He makes it clear when he places his hand against her cheek. It is anything but a comforting gesture. "We're man and wife now," he owns her, "we should be honest with each other, don't you think?"

"Yes," she says carefully, not moving from where she stood, a statue clad in the very ivory her skin had been, before it turned to steel. She doesn't react other than to return his kiss as he leans in.

When he is satisfied, he pulls back. "Good." It's bone chilling. "Take off your clothes."

She turns toward Theon, still standing at the open door. He can't be here for this- he's as good as her brother, and such an act was a private thing between a man and a woman. She could do her wifely duty, like it or not, and she would. But she didn't want him here. As if reading her mind, Theon turns, head still down, to go.

"Oh no, no, no," Ramsay says, like he's talking to a naughty dog. He points at him, still close to Sansa. "You stay here, Reek." Theon. "You watch." He looks back at them, and Sansa can see something deep inside him, stirring. Just barely. Sansa looks on horrified as Theon steps back to the wall. Without ado, Ramsay turns back to his wife. "Do I need to ask a second time?" It is certainly a threat. "I hate asking a second time."

Trapped, she began to walk to the bed, turning away from them, her hands pulling at the stays on her dress. Slowly, slowly, buy herself some time to steel herself against what comes next. This was her husband. This was her home, and she was stronger in the walls of Winterfell. Her face doesn't dare betray emotion. Behind her, she can hear the heavy oaken door shut.

She cannot scream. She cannot show weakness. She has prepared for this moment her entire life, and if she must survive this, then she will. For her family, for Jon and Arya. So Robb wouldn't have died in vain, nor Bran or Rickon.

"Reek," she hears from behind herself, Ramsay's voice slick with poison, "I told you to watch. You've known Sansa since she was a girl. Now watch her become a woman."

Her entire body is on alert, tingling in fear. She doesn't want this. She doesn't want Theon here, doesn't want Ramsay, any of this. She doesn't want him to come over to her and rip the back of her beautiful dress, down and down again. She doesn't want him to force her head down, bending her body over his bed. She doesn't even want to bury her face in the comfort of the furs. She must endure and survive this, as she has all things before, even as she can hear him undoing his belts and trousers. She knows what comes next. What he's going to do to her, tonight and all nights after, until she bears him an heir. Until she secures Winterfell for House Bolton.

Ramsay, she thinks, the North Remembers. And like the wolves we are, we will rip bone from sinew for all you done. He will take her home, her body, but never her heart. Never the North.

Ramsay Bolton will pay for all he has done. And she will make sure of it.

Comments

[king_inthenorth]

[Hearing about it from Sansa had been terrible, but that can't compare to actually seeing what had led up to it. His response, when he can come up with one, is a single word.]

Bastard.

[In both meanings of the word.]

[toivory]

[It takes time before she responds. She didn't need to relive that night, or those nights. She didn't need her brothers to see it.

Her voice is tight when she responds.]

I wish you hadn't seen that. We spoke of it enough at Castle Black.

[She wants to go to Theon and be held by him. But she's going to have to take questions and comments about her rape now, from Jon and, worse yet, Robb.]

He deserved his fate.

[king_inthenorth]

You'll get no disagreement from me there.

[Even without this, there was plenty of terrible about Ramsay Bolton. He knows that it had been absolutely imperative that he was stopped, and he thanks the gods every day that they had managed it.]

[toivory]

It took a lot for you to let me do it. I admire your restraint.

[She breathes deeply, closing her eyes. Her chest feels heavy and tight. Exhale.]

I don't know what I'm going to tell Robb. [Would it be wrong of her to start drinking? Nope. No one would blame her.]

Audio; un: greyjoy

[beboth]

[ There's a start of a broadcast but he doesn't actually say anything. ]

private, audio; un: littlebird

[toivory]

please come home?

I need you.

[beboth]

I...

[ He doesn't sound quite like Theon. He sounds like reek. ]

I can't.

[toivory]

Theon... [Never Reek.]

Please.

[She knows he can't. She doesn't blame him. Not after all they've seen today. But she has to ask.]

un: youngwolf

[kingnamedstark]

[He takes the time after seeing this to let out his anger. Several things in his rooms are left broken or ripped apart, but his rage feels slightly more in control. There is still evidence of tears in his eyes as he opens a broadcast with her.]

I'm sorry, Sansa...

[Sorry he couldn't have saved her from this.]

I'm sorry.

[toivory]

Why?

[She keeps her face a mask, hoping her seeming indifference provided some sort of comfort for her brother.]

It was an inevitability, as a woman. I'm lucky such a thing didn't happen sooner. [She remembered the Hound in her bedchamber, Joffrey's threats of First Night, the men when they'd grabbed her in the street and held her down.]

You don't need to blame yourself for his actions. He made his own decisions.

[kingnamedstark]

It doesn't have to be an inevitability. If I had battled better and had listened to mother, maybe I could have saved you from this. Maybe we could have wed you to someone good and kind.

[But he's speaking as a man and, somehow, still an idealistic one.

If their mother was here, would she tell him that Sansa spoke the truth?]

It wasn't this way for mother...

[toivory]

Can you honestly say that, Robb?

[She knew her mother's history better than he did, and she was secure in the fact that Littlefinger never laid a hand on her.]

It's happened to Aunt Lysa. To Cersei. My handmaiden, Shae. [Whatever became of her, she never knew. She hoped she was safe somewhere.] It's a cruel reality. I was always scared on my wedding night, no matter who I was wed to.

Father wanted me to wed Theon, once. [So, you know. She's going to... mention that. Just a little bit. Get him on team Theonsa.]

text - un; angel

[unknownmoirai]

[Inesa knows what it's like to be in that position and she knows that there is nothing to say to erase the scar from Sansa's past. But she wants to be there for her friend, to let Sansa know that she has a future where she is safe and protected.]

I am sorry that you know what that is like and I am at the shop if you need me.

I can't stop these memories from being shared but I want you to know that you are safe while you are here. Both Jon and I will make sure of it.

[toivory]

Thank you. I know Robb and Theon will do the same, too, as will others I've met in my time here. This world is so much different from Westeros, and I pray there are none here who would do such a terrible thing.

I would like that. Theon cannot be here tonight, and I would like a friend. [Plus she's going to murder Robb any second now.]

[unknownmoirai]

I hope so as well and if there is someone like that here, well, we'll just have to stop them.

[Inesa smiles at the text.]

Then we'll have a sleep over tonight. You and me.

[She's sure that Jon won't mind her not spending the night with him.]

I can show you how to build a pillow fort and I'd love to be able to brush your hair. I used to do that with my sister.

[toivory]

Could we?

[She'd done such things with Jeyne when they were children, curling up next to one another in a large bed, giggling late at night when they whispered ghost stories to each other. They pretended not to be scared but they wouldn't dare get out of bed.]

I'd like that very much! I would be delighted if you would brush my hair.

Private Audio

[11calls]

Where are you? Do you need me?

[Because of course she'd be there, if she needs it.]

[toivory]

I'm in my room.

Could you? Theon can't be here. [She wishes he were, but such things were impossible, when Ramsay caused him such trauma. When his head was so torn asunder. It broke her heart, but if he needed to be away, it would be cruel to demand him to stay. Especially when she insisted they were equal in their relationship.]

[11calls]

Yes of course. I’m coming right now. Do you need tea? A drink? Anything?

[Other than Alex herself she means.]

[toivory]

Could you bring Apo? [Sometimes you just need puppy kisses. Right now is one of them.]

audio - un: whiteroad

[whiteroadrunning]

[The entirety of this memory makes Alec angrier than he can rightly process. But he knows, all too well, that anger isn't what she needs to hear right now.]

Please tell me you repaid him for this cruelty.

audio; un: littlebird

[toivory]

And I would do it again if I were able.

He was beaten within an inch of his life. Then I had him torn apart by his own hounds.

[whiteroadrunning]

Do you feel that was a fitting end for him?

[guerin]

You alone right now?

[toivory]

Please come.