GoT Secret Santa. I sincerely apologize for taking so long with this, and I hope you enjoy the read.
It was such a pleasure to write for this pairing one of my favorites! Sansa shivered and wrapped her cloak around her. She should be inside by the fire, warm and with a needle in her hand and Lady at her feet. Her mother was not happy about it, but her father had insisted. He had took them aside and told them that while Gendry was here, they were to treat him as a brother.
50 must-read game of thrones fan fiction
So when the carriage pulled into the Winterfell courtyard, Sansa was half-curious, half-wary about the dark-haired boy who stepped out. As he walked towards them, he looked to her father and smiled nervously. He was taking his final steps, when a blur of black—Shaggy Dog—shot out from nowhere and startled him. Slipping in the mud, Gendry fell, splattering muck everywhere. Sansa shrieked as it hit her face.
Frantically she wiped it away, glaring at Arya as she started laughing. Glancing down, she realized her cloak—and all of her new embroidery on it—was covered in mud.
Letting out a cry of dismay, she tried wiping at that too. She had spent months on this new de, and this boy had ruined it. She looked up to see him standing and talking to her father, who was seemed to be comforting him.
Something hot and hard formed in her chest. He caught her staring, cheeks flushing even redder, and started turning towards her. She fled back into the castle with a cry.
Servants startled as she hurried through the halls, tears streaming down her cheeks. Even if her mother took away her lemon cakes or if her father forbade her from going out riding, she would never treat that boy like a brother.
Sansa nodded in agreement with Jeyne. Her friend bounced on the balls of her feet, and Sansa knew she wanted to in on the snowball fight fun. Only last year, they had been building their own fort and scheming about how to outwit Arya and Bran.
They had both had their twelfth namedays, however. They were almost ladies. She looked to her eldest brother as well.
He was building a fort with Bran, and next to them Jon was trying to build one with Rickon. She huffed under her breath and frowned at the reason her brothers were paired with their youngest siblings. Arya and Gendry were having a grand old time, laughing as they piled up snowballs.
Soon enough they had two dozen ready. As Rickon was more amused by knocking down his own fort than helping build it, her sister and Gendry started fighting each other instead of the other boys. Snowballs started flying, and then just snow, because Bran and Rickon were too impatient.
A clump came her way, and Sansa yelped and leapt out of the way. Jeyne used the excuse to in the fray. Sansa just hovered on the sidelines, watching her siblings, Jeyne, and Gendry mess about. She liked being a lady, but the fight also looked It hit the back of her head with a thud. She shrieked as snow fell inside her cloak collar, melting and dripping down her back in a cold trail. Turning around, she glared at her giggling sister. Before she knew it, she was gathering snow in her hand and forming it into a ball. By the time she threw it, though, Arya was long gone.
By the time she came close to cornering her sister, she was out of breath and her cheeks felt hot. Her sister let out a discontented cry, and Sansa grinned.
She should have known that her sister would not be fooled by easy tactics. As she contemplated her next move, Arya popped up from behind the wall. She lobbed a snowball and ducked back down too quickly for Sansa to retaliate. The next time she thought she was ready, but Arya was fast.
They continued exchanging shots, and finally, finally Sansa felt that the next time she would get her.
She waited, and as she sensed movement, she threw her last, very large snowball as hard as she could. Indeed, Arya was popping up behind the wall again, but then something—someone—ran between Sansa and the fort where her sister was hiding.
He spun to the side, stumbled a step or two, then steadied. He was just standing there, looking a bit dazed. Snow clung to his face, starting to melt and drip off his chin. Sansa watched worriedly as he just stared at her. I suppose we could be called even now. Sansa let out a distressed cry.
Gendry, I promise! I would never!
Her mouth popped open in surprise, and she was lost for words. She heard Arya let out a muffled laugh, and then the dam broke. Sansa started laughing, and then Gendry ed in. Soon they were all laughing, and then someone threw a snowball, and the fight started up once again. Sansa took one last look at Gendry, who was looking at her as well. Suddenly, Sansa remembered who she was, and who he was. She smiled at him, but it was polite, nothing more.
Something flickered over his face, and then he smiled tightly back at her and turned to make more snowballs.
Walking through the flurry of siblings and snow, Sansa made her way back to the castle. The fight had been fun, but she was a lady, after all, and ladies did not spend their whole afternoon playing outside in the snow.
Ladies did, however, find it in their hearts to forgive, and Sansa was at the very least glad that she could say that although she did not love Gendry, she might just like him. Her fifteenth nameday was everything she had hoped it would be. The celebration was full of her favorite food and music, and Sansa could not wait to dancing.
Post–a dance with dragons game of thrones fan fiction
She just had to wait for the right boy to ask for her hand. Hearing Jeyne laugh nervously, she turned back to the women and girls seated around her. Jeyne blushed, but Myranda Royce just laughed. She had suggested that she would dance with him, in front of all of these lords and ladies. Sansa had moved past her childlike disapproval of Gendry years ago, and she felt for him greatly when he lost his father last year.
However, it had barely appropriate for him to be in noble company when he was the bastard son of the current king. As the bastard son of a disavowed king, however, it would be a scandal for him to dance with any noble lady.