What Women Like || Sansa Stark & Margaery Tyrell

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  1. [​IMG]

    Sansa Stark has nowhere to go. No family to shelter her, no lover
    to hold her, no sanctuary to find peace from Ramsay Bolton and his
    gang. It is hard, so hard to stay in the race when so much of her
    life hangs by a thread. With nothing but an ancient name, Sansa
    pushes onward, hoping to find something to keep her going forward.

    Highgarden is her answer. Margaery Tyrell is the beatiful heiress
    to one of the richest corporations in the world. She is beautiful,
    intelligent, driven, and most importantly, stable. When the two
    meet by tragic and unlikely circumstance, something blossoms that
    neither of the two women thought possible. Romance, danger,
    crime, safety; all things Margaery and Sansa must face to keep
    the little sanity they find in each other. Will it be enough?

    the lone wolf

    All she felt was the cold. Nothing else registered to her fragile senses, not the ache of her muscles, the throbbing of her bleeding head or the sharp spikes of her bruised ribs. Sansa held her arms and shivered in the pouring rain. Carrying nothing but abusive marks and a little sack of her belongings, Sansa Stark trudged helplessly down the side of the interstate, street lamps guiding her way to nowhere. Where would she sleep for the night? Where would she eat? How would she get to school, how would she get home? Ramsay had taken her home, taken everything. Even her inheritance. She was left only a skeleton, a shadow of her former self. But at least her bones had flesh, had a heart that kept pumping despite it's brokenness. She was wired to know no different. Her father taught her to go on, and so she did, even though her destination remained unclear.

    Hours passed. The rain did not subside and Sansa continued to walk, ignoring passing cars as they ignored her. She was soaked to the bone, ice cold of an autumn night piercing her core, making her ache. She half expected one of the cars to be Ramsay's, having finally discovered her escape, come to bring her back to his den of horrors. She would rather die. Let the Stark name fade from the world if it had to; at least then, she would be safe from his grasp.

    Sansa knew everything now. For so long her parents' murders had gone unsolved, brushed under the rug or putting innocent men in jail. Jaime Lannister had nothing to do with the death of her brother Robb, but that didn't stop him from rotting in prison all the same. Sansa knew the truth. The Boltons, the family she'd been tricked into marrying had devised it all at Tywin Lannister's behest, but who would believe her now? A broken girl from a broken family. All she had left was Jon Snow, away in Afghanistan fighting in the war, too far to protect her. She wondered if he knew everything that had happened. She wondered if he was still alive at all.

    Headlights flashed behind her. Sansa figured it was just another car come to pass and go on its way, but the car moved by and began to slow. She froze, mortified. The unidentified car pulled over in the middle of the storm--for her--and Sansa held herself in anticipation.

    Be it Ramsay or a complete stranger, she was prepared to run.​
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  3. Her upcoming marriage should have been embraced with excitement. It was a special time in a woman’s life after all, but the prospect left Margaery feeling conflicted and guilty. In less than one month, she would be wed to the young heir of another ancient house, a kind and generous man named Tommen Baratheon. He was surprisingly good to her considering his family and upbringing, but that didn’t stop her from dreading the day. Once again, she would find herself standing beside a man she barely knew and swearing her life to him for the world to see.

    Today had been overwhelming though, which is why she found herself cruising the interstate with no real destination in mind. Tommen had arrived early that afternoon to collaborate with the Tyrell’s regarding their marriage, but Margaery couldn’t concentrate. Tommen had brought his mother with him. The vile woman loved to sneer and make demands, all of which her father gave into immediately. It was difficult watching preparations be made for another engagement she had never agreed too. All she could do was sit and smile and laugh when need be. She wasn’t there to give her opinions. She was there to show face.

    The sky darkened, hours seemed to pass, and rain continued to fall with a vicious persistent. Margaery knew she would have to eventually go home. Obligations waited for her attention, but right now the freedom of the road calmed her nerves.

    That was when she passed a lone figure on the side of the road. The figure’s auburn hair, though drenched from walking, was strangely familiar. This is very odd. Her heart skipped a beat as the street lamps above illuminated them and Margaery saw what she thought was blood. Without thinking, she pulled her vehicle to the side of the road and popped out, leaving the car door open and the engine running.

    “Hello?” Margaery asked slowly, approaching the girl standing in the rain. It only took two steps for her to realize this girl was hurt. How badly, she couldn’t say, but there was definitely something wrong. “Are you alright? Do you need some help...?”
    #3 Margaery Tyrell, Jun 9, 2016
    Last edited by a moderator: Jun 9, 2016
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  4. Sansa blinked at the familiar face. It was hard to see in the darkness, but she could have sworn that the voice belonged to a wealthy girl from one of her morning classes. What was her name? Mary, Margy, something like that. She shivered as another burst of cold rattled her weary bones. She looked up to the stranger, no doubt looking awfully pathetic or more akin to a murderer than a broken girl. The last thing she needed was police involvement. Sansa struggled to gain her voice; how long had it been since she'd spoken aloud?

    "I--Yes," Sansa managed. "I don't...I don't know what you can offer, but I'm so cold, I have nowhere to go. Please, if you can spare anything. Even some change for the bus." Where Sansa would go, she wasn't certain, but anywhere was better than here. Here was place where Ramsay could find her. Until she was hidden away, she would not feel safe.

    It was the passing of another car that illuminated the features of the kind stranger. Sansa's blue eyes widened and she nearly dropped the bag she'd been clutching to her chest. "Margaery?" she asked in recognition. "Margaery Tyrell? From Humanities 204?"
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  5. Margaery gazed at the girl, tilting her slightly, trying to remember her from class. It took only a moment but when she recalled the shy red-head, she let out a small chuckle. “Yes, that’s right. You’re... Sansa? Sansa Stark?” Margaery was certain she’d remembered correctly. There was no mistaking that face.

    She began trying to decipher what was going on while approaching Sansa, a kind smile on her face. Change for the bus? Absolutely not. Margaery knew the kind of people who walked the streets at night, and she was not about to let this girl wander alone in the rain. Her eyes took in more of Sansa’s appearance the closer she got. The more she saw, the more she became worried. Margaery may have never been physically abused herself, but she had helped a lot of women in destructive relationships find escape from their tormentors. The signs were ever present here.

    “You’re head... you look like you’re bleeding.” Her tone was gentle, though a white fury filled her at that moment while she stared into those blue eyes. How could anyone be so cruel? It was literally like beating a small animal, so innocent and fragile. “I can offer you a car ride, at the very least. Come, let me take you to the emergency room. Someone should have a look at that.” Margaery was determined to help Sansa; she only hoped the Stark would accept.
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  6. Sansa's instinct was to refuse the hospital. She didn't know which of Ramsay's friends might be there, if they had followed her this far, if they were watching her this very moment. Was Margaery in danger simply by talking to her? But it was unlike Sansa to live in fear, and she clenched her eyes shut, summoning her father's wisdom in her time of need. Father would never back down, she thought sorrowfully. Evidence. Hospitals collect evidence, and a case can be made against Ramsay. The thought was enough encouragement, though exactly how much, Sansa was unsure. She was willing to go on a little faith if it meant being saved from the hell she was in.

    "Are you sure?" asked Sansa, and it occurred to her that she'd started crying. "I'm so sorry, I don't mean to trouble you, I'm sure you have places to be..."

    It was so embarrassing, so dangerous to let someone see her like this. But she supposed if it was anyone, better to be a girl known for her compassion than someone less heartfelt.
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  7. The moment Margaery noticed that tears were mingling with the rain on Sansa's face, her fury subsided and was replaced with overwhelming empathy. Whatever this girl had suffered must have been traumatic. She knew it best not to push Sansa into anything; the idea of going to the hospital obviously scared her. As much as she wanted to convince her that a quick look-over by a doctor was necessary, getting out of the rain took priority. Maybe once she's warm and dry, she'll change her mind.

    "You are not troubling me at all, dearest Sansa." Without waiting, she gently hooked her own arm through Sansa's and gave her a bright smile. Seeing anyone as troubled as this broke her heart, but one would never know by her demeanor. Margaery was very skilled at masking her emotions. "Besides, I have all the time in the world."

    By now, the rain had soaked through Margaery's blouse and goose-pimples erupted all over her arms. "Brrrr," she said in a small attempt at diverting the situation, even just briefly. "It's freezing! My heater is on full blast, let's go get warm." She smiled once more and began to lead Sansa to the car, whose engine continued to purr.
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  8. Her kindness was a rare thing. Sansa wasn't full receptive, not knowing what to do with someone so openly kind without anything to gain, but she could not turn down the offer of warmth and care. She stepped into the passenger seat of the car and closed the door. She kept her backpack clutched on her lap after buckling her seatbelt, and when Margaery was inside as well, Sansa expressed her everlasting gratitude.

    "You don't know how much this means to me," she said with a weepy smile. "I think...I think a hospital would be a good idea. For evidence." Sansa sniffled and hugged her backpack to her chest. "He's not going to get away with it this time, I won't let him."

    Sansa closed her eyes and let the heat pierce her bones, chasing away the cold. It was such a comfort that she almost began crying again. "You don't have to stay with me when we get there," she said, giving Margaery a small smile. "I can take care of myself. I'd hate to put you out of your way."
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  9. At Sansa's words, Margaery could only smile, feeling a sense of admiration for the poor girl. Regardless of what she'd been through, establishing a line of evidence was the right thing to do. It took a lot courage to stand up and admit being abused. Margaery was thankful it was now rather than later, before it was too late. The thought of reading about her in the media... She shook away the thought. That will never happen again.

    "I'd love nothing more than to be there with you," she said, taking one of Sansa's hands in her own. The girl's fingers were ice cold to the touch, as though they had never known warmth. She looked deep into her eyes, so blue, and managed the most gentle demeanor she could. "I don't know what's happened to you, but I assure you, whoever did this... They will pay for it." There was a sense of finality to her words. Margaery Tyrell very much meant them.

    Without waiting for a response, Margaery shifted the car from neutral and turned into the right lane, heading down the seemingly deserted freeway. The city passed by the windows, barely visible through the heavy rain, but luckily their destination wasn't far ahead. She felt conflicted, desperately wanting to ask Sansa what did happen, but also not wishing to pry into the girl's sensitive business. A couple moments passed before her curiosity won.

    "Hey," she began tentatively, trying to decide which words to use. "I... I know it is none of my business... but what happened?" She slipped a sideways glance at Sansa, hoping the girl didn't close up. "I understand if you don't want to tell me," she added quickly. "It's terribly nosy of me to ask." Silently cursing her need-to-know-everything agenda, Margaery turned down the freeway exit that would lead them to the hospital. Again, she glanced at Sansa, trying to decipher the Stark's reaction. If she closes down, then she won't be honest with the authorities, and this will happen again... damn it. It will all be my fault. She shook away those pesky thoughts.
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