Work Header

There's No Way (that it’s not going there)

Chapter Text

Arthur didn’t need to look at Bedivere’s disappointed face to know he’d fucked up. He didn’t need to check Twitter or Facebook, or even fucking E! to know he’d said the wrong thing.


Especially because those few words were branded on his mind.


“There will always be someone to call your hard work ‘bullshit’. Never listen to them.”


Arthur might be a rockstar -even though he kinda hated the term-and have the fame of a bad boy, but he tried -quite hard -not to be a jerk.


He’d just failed miserably at that.


A few nights ago, he’d been getting out of a pub with two of his band mates. He was slightly buzzed and more than a bit irritated -a so-called fan had insistently yelled at him that Camelot had sold itself to the ‘industry’ -when they were mobbed by paparazzi.


Nimue had pulled her hood up, while Wet Stick had firmly pushed her ahead -she hated the attention of the cameras -leaving Arthur a bit behind.


Arthur hardly ever talked to the media, mostly because they annoyed him, but that night… That night he was tired and grumpy, so when they threw a question at him, he just snarked the first thing that came to his mind, which happened to be a major Freudian slip.


If he were to be completely honest, he hadn’t even heard the whole question. He just heard something like “what do you think” and one name: Sansa Stark.


Sansa Stark was the princess of pop, America’s sweetheart; she was beloved by the industry. She was a feminist and she advocated against domestic violence.


And he -stupid, tired idiot -had said, “I’m tired of this pop bullshit.” Someone recorded it and it went viral.


It was the most ridiculous Freudian slip he could have ever committed on tape. He meant to say, ‘pap bullshit’, he swore by it. But he didn’t, he’d said ‘pop’.


And the world saw it and the internet went batshit over it.


He woke up the next morning with texts from all his friends, from Bedivere and his Twitter was blowing up. It was only then he finally understood the question he supposedly answered: “What do you think of Sansa Stark singing at the opening of the Grammy’s?”


Arthur cringed.


There was way too much noise over this particular topic already.  Benjen Stark was a rock legend; his band -The Watchers on the Wall -was a reference when it came to the genre; they were right along big names like The Beatles, Queen, Led Zepplin. Fuck, Arthur himself was a big fan.


However, earlier that week, it had been announced that Benjen Stark would sing at the Grammy’s along his niece, Sansa Stark, and people had gone crazy.


Benjen was protective of her. That same year, someone had found a picture of him frowning and posted it with the caption: “The face you make when you’re a living rock legend and your niece sings pop trash”. Stark, who at the time didn’t even own a Twitter account, created one just to post a picture of himself with said niece, who’d clearly just finished one of her concerts, with the biggest smiles on their faces. The caption read: “The face you make when your niece is bright and talented and you’re fucking proud of her”.


Arthur didn’t even care that Sansa Stark was singing at the Grammy’s. They could sing whatever the fuck they wanted, in whichever way they wanted. It was none of his business.


But now people thought it was.


Some of his fans were saying how proud they were of his statement and screaming their support; they said it was high time someone positioned themselves against this ‘pop bullshit’. Other fans admitted being disappointed at his retrograde attitude.


People all over the internet had many opinions about it; some saying he had a right to have his own opinion and others claimed he’d been just an asshole. There were talks of sexism, prejudice and just plain rudeness.


Then Benjen Stark himself replied to the video with “That’s exactly the type of attitude we don’t need.” To make things better, Jon Snow and Arya Stark -the lead singers of The Direwolves and Queen Nymeria respectively -had also shown their support to Sansa; which was expected, considering they were a family. The thing was, Arthur knew and liked both of them.


Arthur was already feeling like shit by that point, but then Sansa Stark decided to say something.

“There will always be someone to call your hard work ‘bullshit’. Never listen to them.”


Classy, like her. She’d never be petty or rude, because that wasn’t who Sansa Stark was; she was a lady through and through.


It made him feel even lower. Bedivere’s face wasn’t helping.


“I know.” He said before his agent could even open his mouth.


“I know you.” Bedivere told him dryly. “You’re much smarter than this, you never said anything even remotely problematic before. Why start now and like this?”


Arthur sighed. “I didn’t mean to say anything. I know it makes no difference.” He said when he saw Bedivere opening his mouth. “You know I’m not that much of a prick, Bedivere.”


Now it was Bedivere’s turn to sigh. “I do. At least you apologized.”


He’d posted a formal apology on his Facebook the day before. He’d apologized not only to Sansa Stark herself, but also to all the pop artists, and made clear he respected them all.


There had been no further comments from the Stark Clan.


Arthur took a fortifying breath. “Call your buddies.” He asked Bedivere. “Get me in touch with Sansa Stark.”




Sansa had disconnected from Twitter since she wrote her reply to Arthur Pendragon a few days back. Shae, her assistant, was taking care of all the social media problem for now. She was tired of seeing the debate over the comment, and the support and attacks from all over the place.


She hadn’t survived under Cersei’s thumb to engage in a Twitter war with Arthur Pendragon of all people.


Her whole family had been beyond offended by his comment, but those were the Starks: always united, no matter what. Arya had wanted to go on a full rant over it, but Sansa asked her not to; she didn’t want to make this bigger than it already was.


If Arthur wanted to be the though rocker with a bad attitude, he could do it without her help.


Jon had also been quite upset about it, because he knew Pendragon and liked him -as much as Jon could like anyone he knew for less than a decade. He commented he didn’t think Pendragon was the type to make comments like these, but also admitted he might not know the other man enough.


Sansa had obviously never met the man, and only knew him by reputation. There was a lot of crossed information about him: some claimed he was as much of a bad boy as he looked, others said he was a caring, laid-back guy who just happened to like heavy rock.


Sansa didn’t particularly care who he really was, as long as he left her the hell alone.


Apparently, it wasn’t to be.


She was running on the treadmill when Shae appeared beside her, lips firmly pressed together like she was trying to contain a scream, and frenetically bouncing on her feet.


Sansa stopped the machine. “What’s wrong?”


Just then she noticed the phone in Shae’s hand. “It’s Arthur Pendragon!” Shae almost squealed, hand covering the receiver. “His voice is so sexy! Can you imagine him dirty talking?”


“Arthur Pendragon?” Sansa couldn’t be more shocked if Shae said it was Cersei.


“He wants to talk to you.” Shae whispered urgently. “Do you want to take it?”


What the hell? Sansa took a deep breath. “Give me the phone.”


Shae passed her the phone and stood there, almost dying of anticipation.


“Sansa Stark speaking.”


“Hello, Stark.” The rough, accented voice called from the other side. Shae was absolutely right; his voice was way too sexy. “It’s Arthur Pendragon here.”


“How can I help you, Mr. Pendragon?” She asked, her tone of voice a thing that would make her mother proud: polite and cutting.


He cleared his throat. “Listen, I was an asshole the other day and said something monumentally stupid. I’m not about to give excuses for what I said, but I’ll apologize again. So… Anyway… Sorry. It was a shitty thing to say.”


Sansa was shocked, totally caught by surprise. She hadn’t been expecting him to say anything of the kind just then. She’d thought he’d give some half-assed excuse and apologize, but he sounded genuinely contrite.


But then again… Joffrey had sounded sorry many times as well.


“I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Pendragon.” She told him politely. “It’s very thoughtful of you.”


Even Shae winched at the frosty tone. There was pause from the other side. “Now, Stark…” He drawled. “I have the feeling you’re being sarcastic.”


She rolled her eyes, happy he couldn’t see her. “I can’t imagine why you’d think that.”


He chuckled. “Charming one, aren’t you?”


The nerve of this… “You apologized, Mr. Pendragon, and I’ve accepted it… I think we’re ‘cool’.”

“Are we?” She could her the amusement in his voice. “Good to know. Can I call you Sansa then?”


She snorted. “Dream on, Pendragon.” Sansa hung up, still hearing his laughter.



Chapter Text


Arthur’s sense of humor had always been peculiar, to say the least. Perhaps that was why he found himself completely charmed by Sansa Stark’s thinly veiled sarcasm. When people called her “a lady” they weren’t joking. She’d obviously wanted to tell him to fuck off, but chose to be coldly polite instead.


He wasn’t expecting it, but he’d liked it.


He was pretty sure she hadn’t forgiven him, though. Which, fair enough, was her right, but still…


Arthur could be charming when he wanted to; he could charm Sansa Stark into forgiving him.


“Thank you, Mr. Pendragon.” The boy shook his hand. “It’s going to be a pleasure working with you.”


“The pleasure is mine, lad. And call me Arthur.” He replied.


He thought the boy was going to wet himself with excitement.


“What do you think?” Bedivere asked once the boy left the table.


“I’ve always wanted to be in a comic book. Never thought it’d be as a demon hunter, but I like it.”


Bedivere snorted. The boy -Rubio -as a comic artist, who happened to be a fan of the band. He wanted to create a comic book of Camelot where they were demon hunters. They’d been discussing it for a while and now it was settled.


“Do you want to share a cab back?” Bedivere asked Arthur as they got up to leave as well.


“I have my…” The rest of the sentence trailed off as Arthur’s eyes caught a flash of red.


He liked this restaurant because of the privacy; it was the type of place where anyone could sit and enjoy good food and a well-deserved break from the paps.


Obviously, Sansa Stark thought the same, because she was there.


When he’d stopped talking, Bedivere followed his gaze and what had caught his eyes. “Don’t you dare.”


“Talk to you later, Bed.” Arthur winked at him, before marching towards her. She was sitting alone, distracted by the menu, so he just pulled a chair and sat down in front of her.


She put her menu down, her eyes rounding once she recognized him.


“Are you serious?” She threw at him.


Arthur gave her his most charming smile. “Hello, Stark.”


She opened her mouth, but the waiter appeared beside them. “Can I get the gentleman a drink?”


“The gentleman isn’t staying.” Sansa spoke, her eyes fixed on him.


Arthur chuckled. “I’m okay, mate.”


The man left, and Sansa sighed. “Can I help you, Pendragon?” She asked, not even trying to disguise the dryness of her tone.


“I think you should forgive me.” He declared, reaching for a bread stick and taking a bite out of it.


She arched a brow at him. “I thought I’d already accepted your apologies.”


“You did, but you didn’t forgive me.” He took another bite.


Her eyebrow -perfectly manicured -remained arched. “And my forgiveness is essential to you.” She said deadpan.


“Look…” He wiped his hands on his pants. “I’m not a complete asshole.” She snorted. “I know I didn’t make a great impression, but I’m honestly sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”


“So you keep saying.” She commented calmly.


“What do I have to do for you to believe me?” He looked deeply amused by the whole situation, which wasn’t helping Sansa believe in him. “Should I fall to my knees? ‘Cause I can do that.”


He made to get up. “Don’t even think about it.” Sansa hissed at him, looking around wildly. “Why are you insisting on this?” She asked tiredly.


“Because I know when I’m wrong.” He explained. “I promised myself, when I started this career, that I wouldn’t be the type of person that does and says things just to get five minutes of attention. I wanted to be careful with what I said, because I didn’t want to be influencing people with bullshit. I didn’t enter the music world to create polemic by running my mouth. And I’m sorry that, the first time I do it, it hits you.”


Sansa was giving him a measuring look, however her mask wasn’t in place anymore; he could see a bit of doubt and curiosity on her. “Are you doing this because you and Jon are pals or something?”


“Jesus Christ, woman. Are you going to doubt all my motives?” He groaned dramatically.


“Yes.” She answered as if it was that simple. “Saying you’re sorry is very easy; anyone can do it, and you don’t even have to mean it. Not repeating the same mistake is what makes a difference.”


It was then that something clicked inside Arthur’s head: his insistence was making her wary; she believed he had some hidden motive for it, that he was only saying what he had to get something he wanted.


Someone had probably burned Sansa Stark pretty badly.


He needed to back off.


“Fine.” He declared easily, leaning back against the chair. “I won’t insist anymore.”


That gave her pause. “No?” She asked warily.


“Nope.” He popped the p. “I see your point. I’ll just have to prove mine to you.”


She gave him a disbelieving look. “Really?”


“Wait and see, Red.” He winked at her.


She opened her mouth, likely to tell him off, but the arrival of her lunch date prevented it. “Sansa?”


Arthur had never seen Margaery Tyrell on the flesh before, though he’d seen many of her pictures all over the place. The young model was exceedingly pretty and well dressed. She was also looking at them with undisguised curiosity.


“Don’t let me ruin your lunch, ladies.” He said getting up. “Tyrell.” He nodded at the other woman.


She didn’t take the seat, just graced him with the smirk that made her famous. “Arthur Pendragon.” She offered her hand. “What a surprise seeing you here. I hope you weren’t giving dear Sansa a hard time.” There was an edge of a warning in her voice.


Arthur shook her hand. “Never. I’m trying to get her forgiveness, but so far…” He shrugged.


Sansa snorted and Margaery looked from one to the other, her face bemused. “Is that so?” She drawled. “Maybe you just haven’t tried hard enough.”


He grinned at her. “Yeah, I came to same conclusion.”

Chapter Text


Arthur did his best to stay out of tabloids and gossip websites, he also didn’t give those a lot of credit. For this reason, he hardly knew what was going on in the music industry. Every once in a while, he’d hear something about someone, but it was always some casual remark.


He knew very little about Sansa Stark, but if he planned on making her forgive him, he needed more information.


For the motives previously stated, he wasn’t about to Google her and see what he could find, so he went to talk to William.


William -or Goosefat Bill, as Arthur called the slippery fuck -was the producer that got Camelot on the map. He was an old mate of Bedivere, and he knew everything about everyone.


“Arthur. Good to see you, lad.” Bill shook his hand. “Take a seat. Can I get you a drink?”


“No, thanks.” Arthur dropped himself gracelessly on the closest chair.


“What can I do for you?” Bill asked, sitting across from him.


“What can you tell me about Sansa Stark?” Arthur asked directly.


Bill’s eyebrows almost disappeared on his hairline. “I thought this had been settled already.” He commented neutrally.


“Can’t I just ask out of curiosity?” Arthur asked innocently.


Bill snorted. “No, you can’t. That’s not like you.” He gave the younger man a long look. “What do you want to know?”


“What happened to her exactly?”


Bill hummed, drumming his fingers on the table. “Do you remember when she came out?”


“A bit.” Arthur shrugged. “She had a song… I have no idea the name, but it played fucking everywhere. I got that stuck in my head for weeks.”


Bill chuckled. “She was just a kid; 15 or 16, I don’t remember well. All American princess, great family. She was a sweet kid; a lot of critics called her naïve and childish, but the public loved her and her cute songs.”


Arthur remembered that much; she was everywhere, this pretty girl with songs about first loves and things like that. Her biggest hits were all pop songs that would glue to the brain and never let go.


“Then Baratheon, that prick, convinced her family to let his people produce her.” Bill snorted, disgusted by the name. “They got her all pretty and innocent, and -two years later -she had a new album and a completely different attitude. Her clothes became minimal and her songs were all about boys and parties. People got mad, because she was still 17 when she started singing about going crazy in parties.”


Arthur arched a brow. He remembered that too, but it was like his brain never really processed how extreme the transformation Sansa Stark had gone through was. Sure, he’d noticed -anyone with a pair of working eyes would -but he just shook it off at the time as another pop artist “reinventing” herself. He didn’t even realize how young she was at the time.


“How did that happen?”


“As far as I know, Baratheon and Sansa’s father went all the way back, so they trusted her to him, but she ended in Cersei’s hand.”


Arthur winced in sympathy. A person would have to be brain dead to not know who Cersei Lannister was. One of the most famous pop singers of her time, she left her singing career to work as a producer. She had a reputation for being brutal, and there were always nasty rumors around her, but nothing ever seemed to stick.


“What did the Wicked Witch do to her?”


“Officially? Nothing but nurture little Sansa Stark as if she were her own daughter.” Bill scoffed. “Sansa even dated her son, that little prick.”


Arthur snickered. Joffrey Baratheon had the fastest career he’d ever seen; he’d tried singing and didn’t even last his first single.


“Sansa even -supposedly- wrote a song bashing Margaery Tyrell for trying to steal her man.” Bill continued, clearly finding the whole thing ridiculous.


That was interesting. Sansa was having lunch dates with the Tyrell and the model seemed genuinely protective of her, so they’d obviously made up.


“So what changed?” Arthur asked.


“Sansa passed out before a concert.” Bill became serious. “They hushed it all up, but I have my sources. They had to take her to the hospital, she was dehydrated and malnourished. At the time, they claimed she had food poisoning, but it came out she had all the signs of anorexia.” Bill gave Arthur a look. “How come you don’t remember that? It was almost a national commotion.”


“I don’t pay attention to those things.” He sighed. He honestly didn’t remember anything on the subject. He was unlikely to think about Sansa Stark back then; she was another young pop singer and he couldn’t care less about her life.


“I heard she talks a lot about anorexia nowadays.” Arthur offered.

“Yes, because she went through that.” Bill pointed out like Arthur was a particularly slow student.


“After this she was done with the Lannisters?”


“Logically. I think there was some deal between them all, because they parted ‘amicably’, without getting the justice involved, even though she had a five-year contract.” Bill explained. “However, rumor has it that Sansa’s anorexia and all the problems that came along were because of Cersei. Some people swear she nearly destroyed the girl; there were even whispers of physical abuse from the little Baratheon prick. Stark never said anything, but…”


But she spoke openly against domestic abuse. She had a foundation to create awareness against anorexia.


Arthur cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. “ And then?”


“Well, after fainting and the ‘divorce’ from the Lannisters, she took a hiatus. People thought her career was over, but three years later… Here she is: full of Grammy nominations, including Album of the Year, being a streaming success… She’s back on top.”


“But whose style is she following now?” Arthur wanted to know.


“Her, supposedly.” Bill shrugged. “She gave an interview saying she was finally doing what she truly wanted. She wrote all the song of this new album.”


Arthur hummed his understanding.


“Why are you curious?” Bill asked, this time clearly interested in an answer.


“I’m just trying to understand her.”


“But why do you suddenly care?” Bill insisted.


“I don’t know.” Arthur replied honestly. “But she’s pissed at me and I don’t like that.”


Bill arched a brow. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He warned the other man.


“William, who do you take me for?” He gave his most beatific smile. “I would never.”


Bill clearly gave up on trying.

Chapter Text



Sansa almost rolled out of her bed with the shock of having her name screamed like that.


Arya was spending the weekend with her in New York and her sister had always been an early bird, but she hardly ever woke Sansa up like this.


“What the hell, Arya?” Sansa groaned, confused.


Arya barged into her sister’s room, skin almost vibrating with a strange energy. “You won’t believe this!” She was nearly screeching in her excitement.


Sansa couldn’t hold back a fond smile. Her relationship with Arya had come a long way in recent years. They had a hard time connecting as girls because they were too different. Then Sansa started listening to Cersei as if the woman was her new Messiah and things got even worse for a while. She could hardly believe how blind she’d been, and could only be thankful for her sister’s forgiveness and support.


Seeing Arya so at ease with her, to the point she entered Sansa’s room and threw herself onto the bed like this, made Sansa extremely happy.


“Sansa, you have to see this!” Arya was looking like a maniac, waving her tablet in front of her sister’s face.


“What?” She chuckled, picking the tablet up.


Then her eyes went to the screen.


She spent a whole minute in shocked silence, while Arya just bounced in excitement. “He’s got to be joking!” Sansa screeched.


She was going to murder Arthur Pendragon! He covered one of her songs!


And not just any song; he’d chosen “Soap Bubble” -which was from her first album and her first hit- and made a freaking metal cover of it!


It was on YouTube with thousands of views already, as he screamed the lyrics of her ridiculously sweet and innocent song.


It was absolutely ludicrous.


“How did you find this?” Sansa wanted to know.


“He put it on his Twitter.” Arya informed her in glee.


Sansa grabbed her phone and saw that Shae had called her 5 times and Brienne -her agent -another seven. She groaned as she went on her Twitter. Arthur had actually tagged her on the post.


“No hard feelings?” It asked.


The little…


“This is priceless.” Arya snickered, going back to the beginning of the video one more time. “He sounds stupid screaming how his heart is like a soap bubble.”


“That’s it!” Sansa kicked her sheets and got up.


“Where are you going?” Arya called after her.


“I need to find the poppest beat possible. I’ll show him.”




Arthur was a bit bummed out. It’d been four days since his cover of Stark’s song had gone viral and she hadn’t said a word.


The internet had gone crazy over it, retweeted it, complained about it, praised it, but nothing from Sansa herself.


Had she hated it?


It had looked like a good idea at the time…


“Hey, you prick.” Back Lack called, putting his head inside the room where Arthur was resting. “Check your Twitter.”


Arthur arched a brow, but grabbed his phone. The band had been weirdly cool about doing the cover. He’d expected protests; instead he got a lot of snickers and pitying looks he was still trying to understand.


Sansa Stark had replied his tweet.


Her reply to his “No hard feelings?” came with the words “None whatsoever” and a video.


He opened the link and almost died. “Holy fuck!”


She’d repaid him in kind! She got his song “Stone Saints” and made a fucking pop cover with it. It had a choreography and backup dancers! Dear Lord, it looked as ridiculous as his had.


He loved it.


The sheer cheek of that woman, using one of his heaviest songs to dance.


Arthur liked the tweet, then grabbed his tablet. He had some research to do.




“He did it again!” Shae announced, barreling into the room.


Sansa sighed. It was a sad state of affairs that she didn’t even need to ask who Shae was talking about.


After she replied Arthur’s tweet with her own cover the internet had nearly broken. There had been a lot of offenses coming from his fans, because she’d ‘desecrated’ the song. However, many people thought it was hilarious.


She should’ve guessed he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet.


“What song now?” She asked resigned.


“Oh no. You have to see it.” Shae seemed particularly delighted, and Sansa felt a bit worried.


She still hadn’t figured out Arthur’s game. What exactly did he expect? Was he doing this to promote himself? He didn’t need it. Or at least she didn’t think he did.


Sansa took a deep breath before opening the new link.


It wasn’t what she’d expected.


He wasn’t making a screaming cover of one of her popper ballads; he’d chosen one of her new ones, “Cathedral”, a slow and sad song she’d written for this last album. He was alone in this video, just playing the guitar and singing.


And he was good! His voice was strong and evocative; she’d heard some of his softer songs before, but this…


It should be annoying, she should be pissed at him.


But she wasn’t. Not even close.


And that pissed her off.


She threw the tablet on the couch. “What’s wrong with him? He has way too much free time.”


Shae was trying to hide her amusement and failing miserably. “I read his band is on a short break before going back to the studio.”


“That explains it.” Sansa grumbled.


She felt challenged now. Like he was showing her he could do something different. “He asked for it.” She declared mostly to herself.


“Hey!” Shae ran after Sansa. “He might be on a break, but you aren’t!”


“This won’t take long.” Sansa threw over her shoulder.


Shae just sighed. Let the girl have some fun.




Arthur wasn’t sure what Sansa would do, but he knew she’d do something. He spent the next days glued to his phone and focused on his Twitter like he’d never been before.


His second cover of Sansa’s song hadn’t created as much noise as the previous one, probably for sounding more serious and being way less ridiculous.


When he started looking for a new song to cover, the pitying-slash-amused looks came back. His bandmates didn’t seem inclined to share the source of all those looks, just to keep providing them.


He’d thought long and hard before choosing “Cathedral”. He’d considered doing another funny one, but...


Why lie? He wanted to impress Sansa Stark. He wanted her to like his cover, but he didn’t want to analyze why he wanted that. It was already bad enough he was admitting he wanted it.


Two days after he posted it, he got an answer. He was talking to the band about the plans for the next album when his phone pinged, announcing he’d been tagged in a post by Sansa Stark.


“Just take it, mate.” Back Lack rolled his eyes. “We all know how much you want to.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?” He challenged.


Wet Stick snorted. “You’ve been sleeping with this phone for the last two days. Just check the fucking thing.”


He gave his bandmates his most unamused look, but he checked his Twitter anyway.


Fuck, she was trying to break him.


He’d chosen “Cathedral” because the lyrics were powerful, the words really made him feel something. He liked putting his touch into it, and just playing the guitar.


She’d done exactly the same thing, or so he believed. She’d picked “The Sword” and sang it alone, playing the piano. He didn’t even know she could play.


It was…


“Just call her.” Back Lack asked, clearly beyond tired of this bullshit. “Please, mate, do us all a favor, and call her.”


Arthur cleared his throat. “She probably doesn’t wanna talk to me.”


Nimue gave him an incredulous look. “Since when to you care about that?”


“Oy.” He hit her with a pillow. “I’ll just…” He indicated the door, and they all kept looking at him with those fucking pitying looks.


Arthur closed the door behind himself and cleared his throat one more time, before looking for her assistant’s contact.


He could do this. She was just a girl.


He pressed the call button. Shae -the amazingly nice assistant -picked the call in the second ring. “Took you long enough.” She threw at him, before he could say anything. He didn’t even have time to reply that before Sansa’s voice came over. “Why am I not shocked?” She asked bemused.


“Because you know I have no self-control, Stark.” He couldn’t contain a smirk. “Did you like the songs?”


“I didn’t know you could sing without screaming.” She teased.


“I didn’t know you could sing without backup dancers.” He threw back.


She chuckled. “Touché.”


“So… Friends now?”


He heard her scoffing, could even picture those pretty blue eyes rolling. “Don’t push your luck, Pendragon”. She hung up.


Arthur knew he had the stupidest grin ever on his face, so he decided to take a break before going back in. His friends would never let him leave this down otherwise.

Chapter Text

Catelyn Stark was a force of nature, there wasn’t a person in this world that was brave enough to disagree with her when she used her mom’s voice.


This was the reason that one Saturday a month, no matter where her children were, they all had to go back home to have dinner. That meant all the Stark children had to find a way to get back to Montana, no matter where the hell they were. Robb once had to fly in from London and then go back in less than 12 hours.


There were no excuses. (Sansa, Arya and Jon learned not to have concerts scheduled on the first Saturday of the month. It was that serious.)


Sansa normally loved those dinners -it meant she could see her parents and her siblings -but today…


“I just think that boy is extremely rude.” Cat Stark commented as she cut her steak.


“Arthur Pendragon is the coolest guy ever!” Rickon protested.


Cat glared at her younger son.


“He apologized.” Arya reminded everyone. “Sansa even forgave him.”


“I’ve accepted his apology, it’s different.” She indicated.


Arya arched a brow at her sister. “That’s why you two are exchanging covers now?”


Sansa showed her tongue to her sister.


“The internet likes it.” Bran commented. “They’re shipping you guys.”


Ned stopped cutting his food. “Shipping? Where to?” He asked confused.


Arya snorted, and Jon hid his grin on his napkin. “No, dad. It means they want them to be a couple.” Bran explained.


Ned frowned. “I don’t like this.”


“Dad, that’s just people talking.” Sansa assured her father, after sending a glare to Bran. “It doesn’t mean anything.”


“Fortunately.” Robb grumbled from his place.


Rickon and Bran started trading strange looks, then Bran shook his head urgently.


Cat arched a brow at the display. “What is going on?”


The two boys traded guilty looks. “You guys didn’t see his interview?”


“What interview?” Arya asked.

“He gave an interview to a podcast.” Bran explained. “We heard it…”


Sansa threw a suspicious look at her younger brothers. She was well aware that Rickon liked Camelot, but she didn’t know Bran was also a fan.


“Did he say something about Sansa?” Robb demanded.

“Kind of…” Rickon shrugged.


“What was it?” Jon asked, clearly bothered by it.


“Jon.” Ygritte, his girlfriend, rolled her eyes. “Relax. He just talked more about the whole thing. He even apologized again.”


“Oh, that’s nice of him.” Talisa, Robb’s wife, cooed.


“You’ve heard it?” Sansa asked Ygritte.


“Yeah.” Ygritte confirmed. “It’s a cool podcast, and they have good interviews. Haven’t you checked your phone? Because it’s probably blowing up because of it.”


As a matter of fact, Sansa hadn’t checked her phone since she’d arrived at her parents’ house, because her mother always complained when they did it.


She shook her head.


“I have it here.” Bran offered.


“Show us now!” Arya demanded.


“No!” Sansa protested, but it was too late, her brother had already pulled his phone.


“I don’t like phones at the dinner table.” Cat reminded her son.


“It’s short, I promise!” Bran indicated, then just went ahead. He found whatever he was looking for, fiddled with his phone for a while and then...


“…some interesting covers.” A male voice Sansa didn’t recognize.


The chuckle that came after was all too familiar to her. “You could say that.”


“So, what’s up between you and Sansa Stark?” The man pressed.


“Just friendly banter.” Arthur replied, and she could just imagine that prick, sitting back, completely relaxed.


“People are saying your kids would look great.” The interviewer teased.


“If they took after her, they would.”


Arya snorted.


The man laughed. “And you say nothing is going on?” It was obvious he didn’t believe it.


“Nope.” He popped the p.


“But can we expect something soon?” The man pressed. “Maybe a duet?”


It was Arthur’s turn to laugh. “Who knows?” Sansa gasped at his audacity. “The thing is, I was an asshole, and I have no problem admitting it. I’ve repeatedly said I was sorry, but I’ll say once again. I shouldn’t’ve said what I did. Sansa Stark worked a lot to be here, and I have no right to call it bullshit just because my style is different.”


“People are saying you’re only apologizing because you got caught.” The man pointed out.


“I’m more concerned with Stark’s forgiveness.” Arthur threw back, completely unaffected.


“And has she forgiven you?”


“If she hasn’t, I can always cover ‘When you pass by’.”


Bran stopped the audio. All the heads turned to Sansa. “I’m going to murder him if he covers ‘When you pass by’.” She hissed.


Arya decided it was the perfect moment to laugh her ass off. “This is the best thing I’ve ever heard.”


Jon, Talisa, Ygritte and Rickon were also laughing.


“He did sound contrite.” Ned observed.


“I still don’t like him.” Cat decided.


“I second that!” Robb hurried to say.


“This is not a vote.” Sansa pointed out. “And there’ll be no more covers and definitely no duets.”


Jon opened his mouth, then closed it again.


“What?” Sansa asked, resigned. Besides, Jon was the quietest among them. If he had an opinion, normally it was worth listening to.


“I just think you guys would sound nice in a duet. Your voices would compliment each other.” He offered.


Robb protested and Sansa threw a piece of bread at her cousin. Her mother was not amused.




Sansa almost called Arthur to ask what the hell he was thinking about. He was only adding gas to a fire that was burning quite well on its own.


After dinner finished and she went to her old room to hide, she decided to check the internet to see if people were really shipping them.


Oh yes… They were.


There were some fanarts and a dozen fanfictions. It was embarrassing and it reminded her why she shouldn’t Google herself.


She didn’t read anything and ignored the terribly photoshopped montages of them.


Tomorrow it would be gone.




Why Sansa was still so optimistic was a mystery to herself. Of course nothing was gone in the morning.


It was actually worse.


God worked fast, but fangirls worked even faster.


In the few days after the interview, someone had made a fan video of one of her songs. Which, fair enough, happened sometimes. But never like this!


They picked a song from her second album -when she was under Cersei’s influence -called “Love won’t let me go”. She wasn’t fond of this song anymore, because she basically wrote it to say she loved Joffrey too much to leave, even though he was an abusive fucker.


However, they hadn’t used only her image for it. They’d used Arthur’s as well.




All in all, it was ridiculously well done, and in many moments it actually looked like they were together in scene. The person who’d done it used scenes from Sansa’s and Camelot’s music videos, a few from red carpets and even Arthur’s special participation on a biker series.


They also used some other actor and actress to complete some parts. Sansa was pretty sure some scenes with Arthur were actually shots of Scott Eastwood’s back.


It obviously wasn’t official or real, but it still looked good. A for effort and dedication.


And the person had posted and tagged them both in it.


Now, Sansa was tagged in a lot of fan posts, so she hardly ever saw them all-unfortunately- but this time, Arthur had replied to it.


“Hey, I don’t remember recording this. How drunk was I?”


Was he serious? Did he want to die?


A mischievous voice that Sansa hardly ever listened to, told her to say something clever back. He always thought he was oh so charming, right?


“Plenty, but you were very cooperative.”


That would show him.




And once again she'd overestimated Arthur's common sense. She shouldn't have encouraged him.


“Can’t believe I forgot it. Can we redo it? I don’t like my hair on this one.” He’d attached a still that was quite obviously not him, one of the parts where whoever made it used Scott Eastwood.


Who said things like that? After the interview and now with this, people were seriously thinking they were about to work together on a song.


How would something like this even work? It wouldn’t! Arthur had to stop encouraging those rumors with this type of comment.


Honestly… His agent should take over his Twitter account.


“Just answer him!” Shae insisted.


“Do not!” Brienne cut in. “I’m already drowning in phone calls. Everybody wants to know if you’ll be recording something together.”


Sansa snorted. “Sure we will. As soon as he learns how to dance.”


“Don’t say that to anyone, even as a joke.” Brienne begged.


“Let her have some fun, Brienne.” Shae rolled her eyes. “There’s a hot rockstar wanting her attention. This is the American dream.”


Brienne was clearly unamused with the idea. “I can talk to his agent if you want.” She offered Sansa.


“Please, don’t.” Sansa asked. “It’d be embarrassing, like my parents are calling his. I’ll deal with it myself.”


Brienne didn’t seem convinced. And when later Sansa tweeted a reply to Arthur -“Sure. Get your people to call mine.” - Brienne made sure to show her displeasure over text.


Sansa didn’t mind. She was having fun.




Sansa had just finished rehearsal with her uncle Benjen when she saw Shae waving her cellphone, a smirk on her lips.


She didn’t even have to ask to know who it was.


“You can’t possibly be serious.” She said by way of greeting.


“You did tell me to contact your people, Red.” Arthur drawled from the other side. “I have to say that I looked amazing in some parts of that video, not much in others.”


Sansa snorted. “You have way too much free time. Don’t you have a song to record or a beer to drink?”


“Now, that’s offensive, Stark.” Arthur said dramatically. “Is this how you see me?”


“I see you as the annoying man who won’t leave me alone.” She threw back, but there was no bite in her tone. She wondered when she started enjoying these little chats with Arthur.


“Talking about my stalking techniques…” She couldn’t hold a laughter at that. “Do you have a date for the Grammy’s?”


She leaned against the wall and glared at Shae who wasn’t even pretending not to be listening. “Yes, and his name is Benjen Stark.”


He groaned. “Fuck, I can’t compete with that.”


That made her arch a brow. “Do you want to compete with that?” Shae seemed curious about this question, and was unashamedly demanding to know what was going on.


Arthur’s chuckle was rich and made Sansa blush for some stupid reason. “If you have to ask, Stark…” He drawled. “You haven’t been paying attention.”


She was still sputtering when he say goodbye and hung up on her. Shae let out a low whistle. “That boy is good. He’s got you blushing like a school girl.”


“I think…” Sansa cleared her throat. “I think he just said he wants my attention or something…”


Shae snorted. “Darling, he’s been desperately trying to get your attention for a while now. At this point… I’m pretty sure he wants your body too.”


Sansa just gaped at Shae, getting red all over again.

Chapter Text

Arthur and Wet Stick were playing FIFA, while Back Lack and Percival drank beers and offered useless advice, when Nimue entered the room, grabbed the remote and put on some channel.


“Hey!” All the men protested at the same time.


“Your girlfriend is giving an interview right now.” She told Arthur dryly. “Watch it.”


Arthur cleared his throat, as all his friends turned their attention to him. “She isn’t my girlfriend.” He indicated unnecessarily.


“Because she’s a smart woman.” Back Lack snarked.


Arthur threw a cushion at him. “Shut up.”


“Thank you for being here today, Sansa.”


That brought Arthur’s attention immediately to the TV. As she exchanged pleasantries with the hostess, he let his eyes take her in.


She was ridiculously beautiful. That hair of hers… He’d never seen a red like that unless it came from a bottle. The blouse she was wearing was white and it showed off her shoulders and the thigh-high black boots were really working for her. And for him.


“Are you excited for your big presentation at the Grammy’s?” The hostess asked, a perfect smile on her face.


Sansa beamed. “Yes, I am. Uncle Benjen and I have been working really hard to make it special.”


“Can we have a clue of what song you’ll be singing?” The woman asked, sending Sansa a conspiratorial wink.


She chuckled. “No, I’m sorry.” She smiled to take the sting off the denial. “We don’t want to spoil the surprise. Let’s just say that uncle Benjen has been working on his moves.” She teased, making the viewers applaud.


“It must be amazing having such a legend as a family member.” The hostess said rather dramatically.


“Uncle Benjen’s always been extremely supportive of all of us. He is amazing.” Sansa agreed.


“And talking about Grammy…” The woman drawled, a sly look on her face. “Did you know Camelot was nominated for Best Metal Performance?”


Arthur snorted. It was quite obvious she’d been dying to ask that question.


To her credit, Sansa didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Yes, and so are the Direwolves.” She indicated. It was graciously done, indicating that her cousin would be there, and a prod to change the subject.


However, it backfired, making the hostess decide to be direct. “How are things between you and Pendragon?”


“We aren’t fighting if that’s what you’re wondering.” Sansa replied smoothly. “We’ve settled our differences a long time ago.”


“But he’ll be there watching you sing. Does that make you nervous?” The woman pressed.


Sansa arched a brow. “Why should it?”


Oh, that coldly polite tone… Now that it wasn’t directed at him, Arthur thought it was even hotter.


“He’s the one that put the spotlight on you.”


“Agree to disagree.” Sansa said breezily. “But I have nothing to prove to anyone at this point. As I said, Arthur and I settled our differences.”


He was blown away by her class. Fuck, if someone said something like this to him, Bedivere would already be preparing himself to do damage control.


The hostess seemed unfazed. “Is Arthur, hum?”


“She’s like a dog with a bone, man.” Wet Stick grumbled.


“He covered ‘Soap Bubble’. I feel like I should call him Arthur.”


“Can we expect to see you and Arthur singing together? Perhaps any time soon?” The woman pressed.


We don’t have any plans for a duet.” Sansa answered, unbothered.


“Would you like to have plans with him?” At this point she wasn’t even trying to be subtle anymore. It was clearly a question with double meaning.


Arthur saw himself leaning forward, eager to hear her answer to this question.


Sansa appeared ready to give another polite and vague answer, but then she paused. Arthur was distinctly aware of the silence around him, as his friends also waited for an answer.


The something he’d never expected happened: Sansa Stark, all-American princess, smirked in national television. “Only if he learns how to dance.”


The hostess was clearly caught by surprise with the answer and took a second to recover. She laughed. “I’d love to see that. This is Sansa Stark, everyone.” She called for applauses, as she promised something or another for when they returned from commercials.


Nimue turned off the TV. “I won’t play if you sing a pop song together.” She declared. “But other than that…” She shrugged.


Arthur sighed. “We won’t sing together.”


“How do you know, mate?” Back Lack asked. “She didn’t look that against it.”


She hadn’t, had she? Not for the first time, Arthur wondered what Sansa thought about all this situation. In the beginning, he was reasonably sure she hated him, but that he could get her forgiveness. After a while, he started to think she tolerated him.


Now… Now he was a bit worried about getting his hopes up. And the thing that freaked him out the most was exactly this; he was hoping. Hoping for her attention, hoping she didn’t think he was a jerk.


He wanted to impress Sansa Stark. The Sansa Stark.


It was absurd and still…


“Oh fuck.”


Percival snorted. “Took you long enough, mate.”


“Fuck you.” Arthur grumbled. “This is ridiculous.”


“We know.” Back Lack said as he munched on some Doritos. “You’re still hot for the princess.


“Just remember… Your kids will look great.” Wet Stick offered.


Arthur gave them all the finger and left. They were too busy laughing to notice.




“So… How are things with Arthur dearest?”


Loras snorted, as Sansa just arched a brow at Marge. “Arthur dearest? I’m pretty sure you called him ‘a minion of Satan’ not long ago.”


“That was before he started begging for your attention.” Margaery drawled. “That man wants you.”


Sansa snorted. “I don’t know why I told you that.”


“Because you’re freaking out and need help.” Loras informed passing her a margarita.


Sansa sighed and eyed the glass. “I probably shouldn’t drink.”


“It’s just a glass, darling.” Marge waved her hand dismissively. “The question is: do you want him too?”


“I…” Sansa groaned. “I don’t know. I won’t lie; I am a bit flattered by the attention, but my last relationship was Joffrey.”


Margaery shuddered. “Ew. Are you worried he might be like him?”


“Joffrey was really charming in the beginning.” Sansa indicated. “He made me feel extremely special; he was attentive and nice. And we all know how that ended.”


Margaery hummed an agreement. “You do have a point. However, I’ve been keeping my ears open, and I haven’t heard one bad thing about our friend Arthur. Quite to the contrary.” She wiggled her eyebrows.


Sansa snorted. “He does have something about him.”


“That he does.” Loras agreed. “But I also heard he isn’t the relationship kind of guy.”


“That’s not a problem, if you aren’t looking for that.” Margaery indicated.


“I’m a relationship kind of girl.” Sansa remembered her.


“Maybe you need a hot affair with a hot rockstar before you settle down.” Marge insisted. “Just a little something to blow some steam off.”


Sansa didn’t seem so sure.


“If you want to blow some steam off…” Loras drawled. “He’s definitely the guy.”


“But what if I’m not the girl?” Sansa insisted.


“You won’t know until you’ve tried it.” Margaery pointed out.


And Sansa caught herself considering it.




Arthur couldn’t play the piano for shit. He was a good guitar player, he could play the bass and even the drums a bit, but no piano.


Sansa played the piano. That was his dilemma of the moment, as he sat there and stared at the piano.


Nimue could play, and -technically- he could ask her to help, but he wasn’t interested in being teased again.


Hence, the dilemma.


The studio door opened and Back Lack came in. He threw Arthur a look, then sighed. He sat beside his friend and gave him one of the beers he had, then said nothing.


“I wrote a song for her.” Arthur admitted after one whole minute of silence.


Back Lack hummed. “Like a love letter?”


Arthur sighed and ran a hand down his face. “No. Not a song about her. A song for her to sing.”


Back Lack chuckled. “Mate, you got it bad.”


Arthur was thoroughly unamused. “Thank you, Back Lack, I’m aware.”


“So what’s the problem exactly?”


“I don’t know how to play the piano.” He indicated the instrument in front of them. “And it has to be on the piano.”


“Why?” His friend asked confused.


“Because she can play it.”


Back Lack sighed like Arthur was trying his patience particularly hard. “And you can't ask our help because…?”


“I'm an idiot?”


“I'm glad you acknowledge it. It's the first step, or so they say.” Back Lack patted Arthur's shoulder. “Now that's solved, when do you plan on doing something about her?”


“I don't even know what I plan on doing.” Arthur admitted.


“You're obviously trying to woo her with your music. Just show it to her.”


Arthur, who was about to tell his friend to fuck off -honestly, woo -paused. “I might.”




“The Grammy is this weekend. Let's survive it first.”


Chapter Text

These few days before the Grammy had been insane for Sansa. The pressure was increasing, everybody was talking about her presentation. In addition to that, she was dealing with the whole Arthur thing. Brienne had not been amused by her sassy answer on the interview, but the internet had.


They were being shipped.


By many people.


Many people.


It was strange. She'd only been shipped with Joffrey, but they'd been a real couple at the time. However, even then, many of her fans didn't actually like the relationship. Maybe they'd known something she didn't.


She wasn't sure what to think about this whole mess and Margaery’s advice had hardly been helpful. She wasn’t about to have some affair with Arthur Pendragon of all men.


As if.




“Are you okay, Sansa?”


Sansa smiled at her uncle. “I am.”


“Are you nervous about the presentation?” He asked frowning.


When he frowned, uncle Benjen looked so much like father and Jon. The men in this family were way too serious. Good thing Robb, Rickon and Bran apparently took more after the Tully side.


Sansa did what she always did when her father or uncle frowned: she smoothed it out with her fingers.


Uncle Benjen smiled at her. “I’m fine.” She assured him. “I’m ready to rock.”


Benjen chuckled. “Then let’s do this.”


He left the limo first, the offered a hand to help Sansa out. She took a deep breath before being nearly blinded by all the flashes. People were calling her name, paparazzi asking for a smile or something, fans begging for autographs.


She let go of Benjen’s arm and went to talk to her fans. She took pictures and signed magazines and basked in the positive energy. This was why her job was worth it.


She had a good feeling about this day.




Arthur hadn’t planned on showing up to the Grammy. He knew Camelot wasn’t going to win this one - The Direwolves had a much better chance - and he thought the event was unbearable and fake.


However… Sansa was going to be there to sing and he wanted to be there to watch it.


His bandmates had offered their solidarity, then decided to stay home. The traitors.


He was taking the mandatory pictures on the red carpet -and feeling absolutely ridiculous wearing a suit-, when he heard someone calling Benjen Stark’s name.


He turned immediately.


Benjen Stark was cool in a way that Arthur would never be, even if he died and reincarnated. The man was wearing a black jacket that had fur on the collar, his hair tied back in a simple ponytail. He was wearing all black, his shirt opened a couple of extra buttons and no tie. Arthur was almost sure his boots were real leather. Probably a crocodile he killed with his bare hands or something similarly badass like that.


However, as cool as Benjen Stark was, Arthur took him in on a second, because who was beside him as a much more beautiful view.




He knew she was beautiful, he did. He wasn’t blind, but tonight…


Double fuck.


Her hair was hanging free over her shoulder, exposing her elegant neck. Her dress was a classic model, light green and as amazingly lady like was she was.


When Arthur came back to his senses, he was already walking in their direction.


“Mr. Stark.” He called as he approached.

Uncle and niece turned in his direction, and Benjen’s glare was a frightening sight. “Arthur Pendragon, right?”

Sansa intervened. “No need to scare him, uncle. He’s apologized.” She hurried to say.

“Repeatedly.” Arthur added, offering his hand.


Benjen gave him a extra firm shake, then gave Sansa a look. “I’ll be over there if you need me.”


He walked away leaving them together.

“He’s so scary.” Arthur murmured in awe.

Sansa snorted. “You asked for it.”

“So… Are we friends now?” Arthur grinned at her ignoring the photographers calling their names.

“Only in your wildest dreams.” Sansa replied with a polite smile, turning for pictures.


Arthur chuckled, but followed her lead. They ignored the questions about their relationship, but when someone asked them to stand closer, Arthur threw a questioning glance at Sansa, and at her nod, put his hand lightly on the small of her back.

“You know…” She told him conversationally. “They’ll have their eyes on you, so look impressed.”

Arthur turned to her, a smirk on his lips. “Then impress me, Red.”

She arched a brow. “More?” Then nodded at him, and left.

Arthur stood there for a second, a silly grin on his lips. “Shit.”




It was almost time. Sansa’s heart was beating like it never had before. She felt excited but there was a lot of anxiety running through her.


This song was uncle Benjen’s baby. She wanted to do it justice. Not because of everybody else -screw them -but because he deserved it. She wanted to make him proud, since he’s always supported her.


She could do this.


And okay, fine. Maybe she wanted to impress Arthur too.


But just a little bit.




Arthur had a suspiciously good position to see the stage. The kind of place normally destined to people that were way more influential than he was on the industry.


Apparently there would be a camera focused on his face the whole time.


Just great.


He didn’t care, he’d only come to see Sansa singing.


Sansa’s and Benjen’s names were finally called and the lights were turned off.


“Night gathers, and now my watch begins.” The smoky female voice sang on the silence.


Fuck! She was going to sing “Brothers in Black!


The lights came back gently, illuminating only her. “It shall not end until my death. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory.”


Her voice… It gave him the chills as he watched her there, hair a living flame, wearing black leather pants, eyes closed as the song consumed her.


“I shall fear no foe, even as the cold takes my soul. My watch begins.”


A guitar sounded behind her and the lights came on, as Benjen Stark appeared beside her as the god of rock he was.


Arthur fell in love all over again.




Sansa had been right: it was an amazing night. She won all the categories to which she was nominated, including Album of the Year.


She could hardly believe it when they'd called her name. Uncle Benjen had to help her stand, because her legs had turned to jello. She'd cried as she made her speech.


She dedicated that victory to all the girls out there who’d ever doubted themselves or had people doubting on them.


It felt like a true victory.


She went to the after party only because Margaery had insisted and many people wanted to talk to her.


However, as she looked around, she wondered if Arthur had come as well. She didn’t think so, since this wasn’t his crowd, and she hadn’t seen him yet.




She smiled as Jon gave her a water. His band had won a Grammy as well.


“Thank you.”


“Arthur is here.” He told her. “And I think he’s looking for you.”


Sansa felt herself blushing immediately. “I…”


Jon just gave her a look. “Go talk to him.”


“It’s not like that.” She hurried to say for some reason.


Jon huffed a breath. “ You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He pointed out. “If you want to talk to him, just go.”


Sansa sighed. “OK.”


She found Arthur by the bar. She already knew he could fill a jeans quite well, but what he was doing to that suit should be illegal.


He was wearing all black-predictable- but his tie was a deep red, and he had a couple of skull rings on his fingers. He looked kind of scrumptious.


Perhaps totally scrumptious.


He saw her coming in his direction, and opened one of his amazing smirks. “Stark.”


She couldn’t hold back a grin. “Pendragon.” She stepped to his side. “Impressed?” She challenged.


Arthur left out an amused snort. “Red, I’m almost falling to my knees and asking you to marry me.” He said dramatically.


Sansa rolled her eyes. “Please, refrain.”


He chuckled, then his face took a more earnest look. “It was beautiful, Sansa. You have an amazing voice.”


She smiled at him. “Thank you.”


“Why don’t you…” He started, then seemed to think better of it. “Forget it.”


Sansa arched a brow in his direction. “You were going to ask why I waste my time singing pop songs when I can sing like that, weren’t you?” She asked dryly.


Arthur winced. “Thank you for rubbing in my face how much of an asshole I was about to be.”


“You deserved it, for even thinking about it.”


He sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He told her honestly. “I’m not perfect. I try to understand, I really do…”


“Why do you sing screaming?” She cut him bluntly.


Arthur was completely caught by surprise. “I beg your pardon?” He sputtered.


“Why do you sing like you’re about to blow your lungs out when you can sing like a decent human being?” Sansa asked, her face a perfect mask of polite interest.


Arthur was incensed. “Now, wait a minute…” Then he saw her smirk. “You little minx.” He groaned.


“I love pop.” She said simply. “I like singing songs that people can dance to, rock in their cars and laugh about with their friends. I sing pop because I’ve liked it since I was 8.”


“Fair enough, Lady Stark.” He bowed to her. “You’ve put me in my place.”


“Remember to stick around there.” She told him regally.


He chuckled. “You’re way too cruel to me today.”


“It’s my revenge for all you’ve annoyed me in these last weeks.”


“Does that mean we still can’t be friends?”


“It means you should stop calling Shae everytime you want to talk to me.” She passed him the napkin she’d been holding the whole night. “Good night, Arthur.”


He only opened once she was out of sight.


It was her phone number.

Chapter Text

Four days after the Grammy, Sansa had just finished rehearsals when her phone rang and Arthur’s name -she’d saved his number, to Shae’s delight -flashed on screen.


She was smiling like an idiot when she answered it. “Well, I expected I’d regret giving you my number, I just didn’t think it’d be this fast.”


“Very funny, Stark.” He drawled. “How is your extremely busy schedule going?”


She thought of all the rehearsals and interviews she had scheduled. “Extremely busy.”


“Can you spare one hour?” He pressed.


“What for?”


“To come to a studio.”


That gave her pause. “Is this that duet story?”


He hummed. “Not at this time.”


Honestly, that man. Not at this time? What was that even supposed to mean?


“Can you imagine the reactions if we’re seen together at a studio?” She asked instead.


“Then sneak in. Sneak in to see the bad boy.” He paused. “Oh I like that. I’ve always wanted to corrupt a good girl.


She laughed. “You’re ridiculous, Pendragon.”


She could picture his grin perfectly. “Does this mean you’re coming?”


She didn’t even have to question herself. “Yes. Make it worth my while.”


“I will, Red.” His voice was full of promise. “When are you free?”




Sansa’s schedule was insane since she won her Grammys, so it took a while to find a date to go to the studio.


Brienne wasn’t happy with this at all, specially because they had no idea what Arthur was up to.


When the day finally came, Sansa put her most inconspicuous attire and went to the address Arthur had provided.


She was received at the door by Bedivere, Camelot’s agent. “Miss Stark.”


“Hello.” She felt embarrassed for some reason.


“He’s waiting for you down here. Follow me.”


Sansa nodded and went after him.


“Does he annoy you too much?” She asked, because Bedivere seemed so serious and sensible, and Arthur… Was Arthur.


Bedivere chuckled. “Less than he did a few years back. But, at this point, I’m not about to leave the kid.”


She gave him a smile as he stopped in front of a door. “In you go.”


“Thank you.”


It was a recording studio. Arthur was standing by a piano with sheets of paper on his hand. He hadn’t seen her yet, because he was on the other side of the glass.


“The lad has been waiting the whole day.” Bedivere informed her. “Drove us all mad. Please, save us.”


She laughed a bit awkwardly and went ahead. When he heard the door he looked up and opened a huge smile. “Red.”


“We’re not that close yet, Pendragon.” She told him dryly.


“I’ll hold on to that yet.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.


She snorted. “You got me here. What do you have for me?”


Just like that, his cocky attitude seemed to disappear. Sansa watched in wonder as he got… Was he getting shy now?


“Right.” He cleared his throat. “I wrote a song, and…” He scratched the back of his head. “It’s for you. If you want it, of course.”


Sansa wasn’t expecting that. “You wrote a song and want to give it to me?” She was bewildered.


“I wrote it for you.” He clarified, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “It’s meant to be sung by you.”


“You…” Sansa was frozen, caught between shock and elation, and just plain amazement. “You wrote it for me?”




“I…” She felt her face heating up. “I don’t… Thank you.”


“You might wanna see it before you thank me.”


“Arthur.” She called softly. “Thank you.”


He just nodded and passed the papers to her.


Sansa read the title. “Porcelain, Ivory, Steel.” She hummed. “It sounds intense.”


“Shut up and sit.” He pointed at the piano, clearly embarrassed.




As Sansa sat and tested a few keys on the piano, Arthur became acutely aware that this was the first time they were actually alone.


They’d met in person only a handful of times and it was never in a place where they could talk alone.


He had Sansa Stark all to himself.


Arthur wondered if he’d screw this up. He used to mess a lot of things up back in the day. He couldn’t go one day without getting into a fight, trying to prove himself to some invisible power.


Even music, something he’d always loved, was more an excuse to go to pubs, to show how fucking good he was, and -eventually -fight.


Fortunately Bedivere found him and slapped him on the back of the head. Repeatedly.


However, that old voice of insecurity was whispering to him again, letting him know that she was way too much for him. Sansa Stark deserved way better than him and his stupid songs.


“How do you want to do this?” Sansa asked, turning to him.


“Hum?” Arthur’s head snapped in her direction.


“Earth to Arthur.” Sansa smiled at him. “Are you here with me?”


“Yeah, sure.” He cleared his throat. “How about you play and I sing it, at first?”


“Works for me.” She turned back to her music sheet.

Arthur cleared his throat and waited for her to start. Once she did, he focused on his part. This song wasn’t made with his pitch in mind, so it took some adapting for him to sing it.


Once it was over, Arthur waited for Sansa to say something, but she remained silent, staring at her hands on her lap.


Oh fuck.


“Sansa?” He called, slightly concerned. Had she hated it? “Sansa?”


She took a deep breath before turning to him, her eyes misty with tears. “You really wrote this for me?”




She gave a watery laughter. “I love it. I truly do.”


“Fuck, Stark, you almost killed me here.” He chuckled, a lot of tension leaving his body. “You weren’t supposed to cry.”


“I’m sorry.”


“No, Red. I’m not upset.” He hurried to say, then he raised his hand and wiped a stray tear. “Not if these are happy tears. I’m glad you liked it. It’s all yours.”


“Thank you.” She told him heartfeltly. “What you did… Honestly, I have no words.”


“I’m fine with ‘thank you’. Maybe one ‘I completely forgive you’...” He teased.


Sansa laughed. “So all of this is for my forgiveness?”


“Red… What did I tell you about paying attention?”


Sansa bit her lower lip. “Yes… I promise I’m paying attention now.” She cleared her throat. “My turn?”


“Please.” He indicated the piano.


She started playing again and this time he let her sing on her own, and just watched.


And as he watched her there, so close, singing the song he wrote just for her, Arthur felt his heart growing so big he feared it might not fit his chest anymore.


If he was in love before, he had no idea what to call this feeling right now.




Sansa couldn’t believe he’d written her a song. It wa the most ridiculous thing someone had ever done for her.


And it was freaking perfect. The lyrics, the melody… She couldn’t love it anymore if she tried.


What was this man doing to her?


Once she sang it alone, they discussed some changes in a few parts to suit her voice better.


They worked on it for the whole hour she had, but then she needed to leave.


Arthur walked her to the door. “Thank you for coming, Sansa.”


“Are you kidding? Thank you for the song.”


He shrugged. “It was my pleasure.”


“Can I remix it? Make it dancey?” She teased.


“I swear to God, Stark, you turn this into a pop song, my next album will be exclusively of covers from your first.” He fake growled at her, making her laugh again.


It was ridiculous how much this man was making her laugh.


“It might be worth it just to see you trying.” She grinned at him.


“Cruel woman.” He sighed dramatically.


They stood there in silence, just looking at each other for a minute. Strangely, it didn’t feel weird doing it.


Sansa shook her head. “I have to go.”


“Don’t be a stranger, Stark.” He told her.


“I won’t.” She promised him.


Sansa wasn’t sure what took over her, but she wanted to hug him, so she just went for it. Since she was taller than most girls, it was easy for her to just throw her arms around his neck.


“Thank you again.” She murmured against his ear.


Arthur seemed surprised, but was quick to hug her back. “Stop thanking me. I did it because I wanted to.”


“Shut up and let me thank you.” She grumbled.


“I’ll just accept it because of the hug.” He hummed, giving her waist a squeeze with his arms.


Sansa snorted, but stayed there for just a minute longer than she should’ve had.


When she finally decided this was probably way too long hug between people that weren’t exactly friends, she pulled back gently.


She didn't actually go that far; her hands were still on his shoulders and his were still on her waist. She was looking into his eyes and he was looking into hers like the world had faded around them


Arthur chuckled. “Goddamnit, I could get lost in those eyes of yours.”


Sansa wasn’t sure if she’d moved first, or if it’d been him; they were so close it might’ve as well been both of them. She just knew that one minute they were looking into each other’s eyes, and -in the next- they were kissing.


She was kissing Arthur Pendragon.


It was soft and tentative and everything she’d never expected from a supposed bad boy, and -exactly because of it -it felt perfect. Her arms went back around his neck and he pulled her tighter against him. There was no hurry in it, just a strange connection that kept pulling them together.


Sansa let go of his neck to put a hand over his heart -it was beating insanely - and Arthur took the moment to cradle her face and kiss her deeper and sweeter. She hadn’t been kissed in a while, but Sansa didn’t remember it ever being like this before.


When they parted, they were both breathing irregularly.


“I…” Suddenly she felt incredibly awkward.


“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Arthur cleared his throat. “I wasn’t planning on kissing you just like this.”


“It’s okay.” Sansa took a step back, feeling overwhelmed. “I need to go.”


“Sansa, wait.” Arthur asked, but didn’t grab or crowd her. “Are you okay?”


“I’m fine.” She took another step back. “Thank you for the song.”


Arthur was looking a bit unsure then. “Are you sure?”


She gave him a weak smile. “I’ll talk to you later.” She just said, as she turned and -basically -fled the scene.


She heard him calling her name one more time, but she was too scared to turn.