![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rodoTitle: The Bastard Daughter
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Length: 400 words (24k words in total)
Rating: 16+
Genre: AU
Characters: Sansa Stark, Ned Stark, Arya Stark
Warning: graphic depictions of violence, minor character death
Disclaimer: Not mine, of course
Beta: Isis
A/N: This story is based on a kinkmeme prompt over at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thekinksidoforlove that reads as follows:
So yes, this story is canon-divergent in more ways than one.
Summary: After Joffrey's death, Petyr Baelish tries to spirit Sansa away to the Vale, but fate intervenes, and she ends up in the last place anyone might look for her: Braavos.
Chapter I: Bloody Seas | Chapter II: The Bastard Daughter of Valyria | Chapter III: The Crane and the Pearl | Chapter IV: Weathering the Storm | Chapter V: Winter's End | Chapter VI: The Wolf of Braavos | Epilog: Home
Epilog: Home
A cool wind blew around them and disheveled Sansa’s hair as they rode the last stretch of road towards Winterfell. She had ample time to stare at the familiar gray stone and wooden palisades. The wood was new, as Winterfell had been put to the torch, but the stones still stood, even if they were a little blackened in places. The smallfolk assembled to watch them pass as they rode through the town, and every now and again her father stopped to speak to some of the craftsmen. On one such occasion, a little girl approached her horse with a wreath made of wildflowers.
“Thank you,” Sansa told her when she handed it to her. “A finer crown I could never wish for.”
The girl blushed at the compliment before disappearing in her mother’s embrace. Then a roar shook the earth, a bit like the Titan’s, only this one indisputably came from a living creature. A shadow rose behind the walls of Winterfell from where the broken tower used to be. The beast was huge, with dark green scales that had golden highlights, but it took to the skies like the lightest bird.
“That’s Rhaegal,” Arya said from her own horse. “Which means Jon is here.”
And indeed he was. Sansa saw him when she rode through the gates. They had all arranged themselves in front of the great hall to welcome back their lord. Jon stood in the middle, a modest circlet in his dark curls, next to Robb, who now sported a full beard. On Jon’s other side stood Sansa’s mother—an unusual sight, seeing them side-by-side, to say the least—followed by little Rickon, who wasn’t so little any more. And next to Robb stood the woman who must be his wife. She carried an infant in her arms and a shy toddler clung to her skirts.
“My lord,” Robb said with a bow. “Winterfell is yours.”
Beside her, her father nodded with a hint of a smile on his solemn face. He couldn’t take his eyes off the grandchild he hadn’t met yet. Then everything became less formal. Sansa had scarcely time to dismount before her mother hugged her fiercely, as if she were afraid that Sansa would disappear again if she let go. They were the same height now, she noticed. Over her mother’s shoulder, she exchanged a warm glance with her brothers, who all stared at her with love in their eyes.
“Oh, my little girl,” Sansa heard her mother mumble into her hair. “You’re finally home.”
“Yes,” Sansa said. “I’m home.”
Fin
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Length: 400 words (24k words in total)
Rating: 16+
Genre: AU
Characters: Sansa Stark, Ned Stark, Arya Stark
Warning: graphic depictions of violence, minor character death
Disclaimer: Not mine, of course
Beta: Isis
A/N: This story is based on a kinkmeme prompt over at
thekinksidoforlove that reads as follows:"Due to plot, Arya and Ned are able to escape Kingslanding, but they had to leave Sansa behind. I would love to read something where Sansa is smuggled out of Kingslanding, and sent to Braavos, where she is able to create a successful sewing business. After the war is over, her family finally start to search for her, and they find her. How would her family react to knowing that she is completely independent of them? How would Sansa react to seeing her family again? Bonus points for Sansa irrationally resenting Ned, and the rest of her family."
So yes, this story is canon-divergent in more ways than one.
Summary: After Joffrey's death, Petyr Baelish tries to spirit Sansa away to the Vale, but fate intervenes, and she ends up in the last place anyone might look for her: Braavos.
Chapter I: Bloody Seas | Chapter II: The Bastard Daughter of Valyria | Chapter III: The Crane and the Pearl | Chapter IV: Weathering the Storm | Chapter V: Winter's End | Chapter VI: The Wolf of Braavos | Epilog: Home
A cool wind blew around them and disheveled Sansa’s hair as they rode the last stretch of road towards Winterfell. She had ample time to stare at the familiar gray stone and wooden palisades. The wood was new, as Winterfell had been put to the torch, but the stones still stood, even if they were a little blackened in places. The smallfolk assembled to watch them pass as they rode through the town, and every now and again her father stopped to speak to some of the craftsmen. On one such occasion, a little girl approached her horse with a wreath made of wildflowers.
“Thank you,” Sansa told her when she handed it to her. “A finer crown I could never wish for.”
The girl blushed at the compliment before disappearing in her mother’s embrace. Then a roar shook the earth, a bit like the Titan’s, only this one indisputably came from a living creature. A shadow rose behind the walls of Winterfell from where the broken tower used to be. The beast was huge, with dark green scales that had golden highlights, but it took to the skies like the lightest bird.
“That’s Rhaegal,” Arya said from her own horse. “Which means Jon is here.”
And indeed he was. Sansa saw him when she rode through the gates. They had all arranged themselves in front of the great hall to welcome back their lord. Jon stood in the middle, a modest circlet in his dark curls, next to Robb, who now sported a full beard. On Jon’s other side stood Sansa’s mother—an unusual sight, seeing them side-by-side, to say the least—followed by little Rickon, who wasn’t so little any more. And next to Robb stood the woman who must be his wife. She carried an infant in her arms and a shy toddler clung to her skirts.
“My lord,” Robb said with a bow. “Winterfell is yours.”
Beside her, her father nodded with a hint of a smile on his solemn face. He couldn’t take his eyes off the grandchild he hadn’t met yet. Then everything became less formal. Sansa had scarcely time to dismount before her mother hugged her fiercely, as if she were afraid that Sansa would disappear again if she let go. They were the same height now, she noticed. Over her mother’s shoulder, she exchanged a warm glance with her brothers, who all stared at her with love in their eyes.
“Oh, my little girl,” Sansa heard her mother mumble into her hair. “You’re finally home.”
“Yes,” Sansa said. “I’m home.”
