Application: Sansa Stark, A Song of Ice and Fire

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

A beautiful girl dressed in a modest medieval gown appears in the Sorting Room. She looks around briefly, clearly surprised and disoriented, then takes a seat to fill out an application, carefully minding her sleeves so they don't get smudged with ink.


1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
White cheese? I didn't know they had names. I suppose I like white cheese because... blue and green smell horrible.

2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
Those are strange names, who are they? I wouldn't... Why should I kill either one? They're nothing to me.

3. What time is it where you are?
Just after breakfast, midmorning. I was going to the sept. Lord Robert hates it and won't go there, which gives me some peace. I don't know where I am though.

4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
Who? What? I'm married. Or betrothed, I suppose, whichever pleases you better.


5. If you are pushing to be in:

A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
Bastard girl I might be for now, but barmaid I am not. Not yet. Still, I have poured wine during my father's Petyr's Lord Baelish's meetings with the other Lords of the Vale, in the Eyrie and at the Gates of the Moon. Will either of those names do?

B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
Harry? Do you mean Harrold Hardyng? I don't know this Fred or George and Harrold Hardyng is by way of being betrothed to me, I'm told... neither one is a Royce? If one was, that would tie the... please, why are you asking me? I don't know these things.

C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
I have no head for paperwork, none at all, truly. You should talk to your steward.

...is there a fireplace near your desk?

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
I can sing, play the high harp, and sew very well. I know my letters and all my heraldry. Oh, and with the rest of my family dead (except for Jon Snow who doesn't count), I'm the heir to Winterfell and the North. Not that that means anything really anymore.

6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
I don't have a lot with me, but I suppose I'm willing to offer whatever I have. I'll sew, I'll play. I've got several stories about the Winged Knight memorized. I have gotten really much better at running a castle and managing things. And I suppose it's lucky I decided to wear some jewelry today.

I won't offer to sing, though, unless I have to. I have had my fill of songs.

Comments

[jaime-lackhand.livejournal.com]

"You're absolutely right. My apologies, little sister. Seeing Arya, and now you has been a shock to me, and it appears I forget what little manners I had." He rubbed his eyes with his one good hand, and then looked at her "One moment."

He turned, cupped his mouth (sort of) and yelled down the hallways "WENCH!" Then turned back to Sansa.

"Please tell me you know how you got here, and that Cersei isn't right behind you?"

[maid-brienne.livejournal.com]

A remarkably tall and muscular woman strode angrily into the Sorting Room. One might not have connected her appearance with the summons to a 'wench,' had she not stormed up to Jaime -- and then hung back a few feet away, strangely, as if at heel.

"My name is -- " she began, then caught sight of the girl to whom Jaime was speaking. She bore a marked resemblance to someone --

"She can't be," the woman breathed. Hope lit her face.

[jaime-lackhand.livejournal.com]

"Brienne. I know. And she is. And I believe I found both of them. Now be the good knight and fulfil at least one of your damned oaths."

[maid-brienne.livejournal.com]

Brienne narrowed her eyes. The provocation of Jaime's harsh words evoked an anger that blessedly drowned out the shame of having well and truly failed. She had found neither of the Stark daughters. Jaime had found them both, even if only by the chance of having come to the Sorting Room before Brienne did.

Her oath had not only been to find them, though; she was to protect them. She knelt before Sansa.

"You are the lady Sansa Stark," she said, not a question.

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

This was... what was this? "Yes?" she said, a little uncertainly. No one had ever knelt to her before, not really, except poor Ser Dontos.

[maid-brienne.livejournal.com]

"I was once sworn in service to your lady mother," said Brienne, a bit flatly, not wanting to think what Sansa's lady mother had become, and hoping the subject would not come up, though she would tell if asked. "I now am sworn to protect you, and to keep you from harm, especially from any harm that Cersei Lannister may bring upon you. Your sister has spurned my protection, yet still I will give it, and to you I give the same. I am Brienne of Tarth, called Brienne the Blue" -- and other things -- "once of Renly Baratheon's Rainbow Guard."

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

"I was protected well enough where I was," Sansa said reflectively. She had been - no one was looking for a bastard girl called Alayne Stone. Even when she'd run out of the Tyroshi wash and her hair had reddened, even Bronze Yohn Royce (who had actually met Sansa Stark!) still saw just Alayne. "But... here is different."

Brienne was a large woman, perhaps she really was a knight. She was definitely not beautiful... which was fine. Sansa no longer trusted beauty as she once had, and ugliness had been kind to her. The Hound, Tyrion, poor Ser Dontos. "I thank you for your kindness and your protection, my lady."

Brienne's vote: Gryffindor

[maid-brienne.livejournal.com]

"I could not find you in Westeros," admitted Brienne. Perhaps those into whose hands Sansa had fallen had done a better job than Brienne herself could have done.

Arya Stark had rebuffed Brienne's honest and humble service. That Sansa did not do likewise was more than Brienne had expected. Renly was the last to have accepted her devotion kindly and openly; Catelyn Stark had done much, but the Stoneheart she became had turned the sweet to bitter. Brienne found herself touched beyond words.

"I am in Gryffindor House," she said. "I will cast my vote that you be placed there as well, so that I may guard you. This blade's name is Oathkeeper --" she indicated the sword of Valyrian steel that hung, sheathed, at her side -- "and that is an oath I am sworn to keep."

She waited till Sansa might bid her to rise.

Re: Brienne's vote: Gryffindor

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

"I was very carefully hidden." Brienne would probably have to know the story eventually. Sansa being Alayne sometimes might help her keep

Sansa looked at the sword... lions, was it? And red. Very Lannister, for someone in her lady mother's service. She frowned, very slightly and very briefly, trying to work it out, then smoothed her expression to a smile. Oathkeeper, that was promising. "Rise, Lady Brienne." After a moment, she added, "Please."

She was neither Lady of Winterfell nor Lady of Casterly Rock, and Brienne was a lord's daughter too (Tarth!) and deserved the courtesy.

[maid-brienne.livejournal.com]

Brienne did not catch Sansa's attention to the hilt of Oathkeeper. It was a good thing, too. If there were ever a conversation on the origins of Oathkeeper, and whose sword it was part of, it might not be a very pleasant one.

She rose, obediently, and casting a last narrow-eyed look at Jaime, took her place behind Sansa, hand ready at the hilt of Oathkeeper lest anyone offer insult or harm to the Stark girl.

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

Sansa forced herself not to react, not to insist that she wasn't the Kingslayer's 'little sister'... because she was, wasn't she? My lord husband is fled, not dead. Though she did wince a little at the bellow of WENCH! "I don't know, ser. I was going to the sept, and ended up here."

She thought a moment, then offered, "I was in the Vale, and the Queen still in King's Landing." Dealing with troubles entirely of her own making, Petyr said. HA. "If she's right behind someone, it is not me."

[jaime-lackhand.livejournal.com]

"Thank the Seven for that small mercy at least. I don't have to strangle anyone." What a bloody shame.

He paced as he looked her up and down.

"My little brother is here, you realise? It seems we're having a family reunion."

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

Strangle? Sansa had thought the Kingslayer and his sister were quite close. Very close indeed, depending which rumors you believed. It wasn't her place to ask, though, so she simply said, "I... have heard that, ser. If he ahs been here, it's no wonder the Queen's offer of a lordship has gone unclaimed."

[jaime-lackhand.livejournal.com]

"The Queen's offer of Lordship will go unfulfilled, if I have anything to say about it. You can thank me for still having a husband. As twisted and cruel as my brother sometimes is, I do love him."

He shrugged.

"Which is more than I can say regarding my sweet whorish sister."

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

I didn't want him in the first place. But she'd meant what she said: Tyrion was no worse than anyone else, and much better than many - especially by comparison to others she'd met much more recently. And being married had protected her at least a little in the Eyrie, she thought, even without an actual husband there. "Then you have my gratitude, ser."

[jaime-lackhand.livejournal.com]

"I don't need your gratitude. What I need is to get you and your insane little sister back to your mother, so that she'll free the wench from that oath to kill me."

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

Oh, he'd gone mad. Well, that... explained nothing at all, actually. "My mother is dead, Ser Jaime. At the Red Wedding."

[jaime-lackhand.livejournal.com]

"Oh Gods, why this conversation again" He'd raised his eyes to the roof, and then looked at Sansa.

"Apparently, the Red Priest and his Lightning Lord decided to bring your mother back to life. Congratulations, you still have some members of your entirely deranged family."

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

"Some people may not get told anything by other people." Good ladies were not waspish to the mad, but Jaime was getting on her nerves a little. If it was true, though, if her lady mother was alive....

It wouldn't really change anything, would it? Father and Robb and Bran and Rickon would still be dead, Winterfell would still be burned, Lord Bolton and the Greyjoys would still hold the North, and she would still be Tyrion Lannister's wife. "Some people might have been on top of a mountain for months and months. Ser."

[jaime-lackhand.livejournal.com]

"A mountain? As in the Vale? Baelish you sly..." He appeared to pay attention again.

"Stop calling me Ser. I'm no Ser here, and barely a Ser back in Westeros. Jaime. Or Kingslayer. Whichever takes your fancy at the time."

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

"Yes." You have no idea. She certainly didn't, and she knew quite a bit more than most.

She smiled, a particularly empty one that she'd gotten really very good at in King's Landing. "As you say, ser. Jaime." It would be best if she got used to calling him by his name, in any case, if she was back to acting his sister-in-law as well as being it.

[jaime-lackhand.livejournal.com]

Twitch. Twitch. That vacuous smile was setting off warning bells in Jaime's brain. His sister smiled like that at times. It was all he could do to not throttle the girl with his remaining hand.

"Pfaugh. Where do you want to be sorted? You don't really fit Gryffendor, or Ravenclaw. Possibly Hufflepuff. But then again, you also seem eminently suited to Slytherin." You scheming little minx. Some of us remember you being the dutiful little fiance of my gods-damned son. Selling out your own father.

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

"As a loyal wife," though of course there would have to be words about whether or not that was true, later, and she dreaded them, "my duty is with my lord husband. Slytherin, please."

Vote: Slytherin

[jaime-lackhand.livejournal.com]

"Bugger than loyal wife crap. As much as I love my brother, if he were my husband instead, I'd not be loyal what-so-ever. But if you're sure it's Slytherin you want."

Re: Vote: Slytherin

[castleinthesnow.livejournal.com]

"I'm not you," Sansa pointed out. "But thank you."