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(Don't Fear) The Reaper

Summary:

'I disagree, I have come to the perfect place, I want to bring those who wronged me to justice and all those who have wronged me are right here'
They had that in common.

Accused of murder, Sansa Stark sees no way out, but the Red Viper of Dorne may have one, if she has the courage to take it.

Chapter 1: I Have Questions

Notes:

idek where this came from, but I've wanted to write this for a long time.

it is a wip, shoot me, currently planning out the main story, but I've got the next chapter almost done.

do let me know watcha think! it is going to be spicy! lots of canon divergences, and lots of scheming.

for the purpose of this fic: oberyn is like 33, sansa is 17ish.

also this is primarily a book fic, book lore/events etc, some show - but it fits in the asoiaf category ty.

songrecs: don't fear the reaper - denmark and winter (original is awesome but the d+w version is haunting) d+w version is haunting)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

'All our times have come, here but not they're gone. Seasons don't fear the reaper, the wind, the sun or the rain, we can be like they are, don't fear the reaper, baby take my hand, we'll be able to fly'

She has never been this filthy.

The cell is caked in mud, dirt, and other things she doesn't want to think about, dark and dim, a blessing so she cannot see her surroundings. There is only one tiny window, with bars obscuring most of it, and she is thankful for that, to sit in the dark, to not have to see what she has fallen to.

She is a prisoner, well … she has been for a while, hasn't she? A pretty singing bird, a little dove, locked away in a gilded cage, golden bars, and diamond locks. Now she sits in a box, cracked and worn, dirty and destitute, a prisoner as she was before, just slightly worse circumstances.

Oddly, she has never felt this peaceful in Kings Landing. Perhaps it's the realisation she'll die soon, be free of the suffering and finally know some silence, perhaps it's the quiet itself, surrounding her, wrapping into her like a blanket, allowing her mind to rest. Perhaps it is that she finally feels free, even surrounded by stone walls and metal bars. There is no one to please here, no courtesies to parrot, no true feelings to hide, no lies she has to tell.

She remembers when she had almost taken her freedom months earlier, arms wide, wind whipping around her hair and nightgown, feet planted firmly on the stone windowsill, one step forward to go tumbling, down, down, down.

It had been the middle of the night, the moon high in the sky, the breeze harsh on her skin like a violent caress, the offer right there, just jump, and she would be free, on her terms.

She hadn't been scared, hadn't felt the fear of being about to plummet, the fear of tumbling to ones death. Sansa Stark had just breathed in the air, calming, quiet, fresh, and contemplated tumbling to her death, contemplated ending it all, in her own way.

To be with them again…

Sansa wasn't sure what had stopped her, what had her stepping back, back to bed, not the bed of grass that had called to her, so far down on the ground. Now she wishes she had taken that way out, been found the next morning, pretty, broken, crushed, the little dove taken flight and plummeted.

It doesn't matter really, the result will be the same, perhaps even this will be quicker, easier.

It would be lying to say she doesn't feel a flicker of fear, to die, and yet it is so tiny it is easily ignored. This isn't living what she's doing now, trapped away in the cell, accused of murder, or at least as an accomplice to a murder.

And it isn't like she wasn't living before either, trapped as a wife, unbedded as she was but still trapped, expected to spawn Lannister babies, to let them take her name, her body, her claim. No.

Why would she be afraid to die when she wasn't living? How can a life be considered taken if already gone?

Sansa Stark had been gone for a long time.

And so, she will sit here, in her dirty dress, in a little heap next to the wall, Southern hairdo half undone and tumbling down her shoulders, the mouldy food ignored in the corner, lips cracked from lack of water. She will take nothing from them, not anymore.

Perhaps it will take a while for them to come for her, perhaps from lack of water, lack of food, lack of will she'll die first. That would be nice, to be found by the guards having already taken a way out, gone and not there for the entertainment of a trial.

Part of her things she should plead guilty, get it all out of the way, but no, she wishes she had killed Joffrey, she'd go with more satisfaction if she had, but she hadn't (to her annoyance), and she wouldn't lie again, not anymore.

No, she'd profess her innocence but watch them condemn her anyway, and she'd go to the executioners block with her head held high, no shame, no begging, no lies, she'd die like her Father had, honourable until the end.


At some point she had fallen asleep.

Not for long though, just drifted away, weak, and hungry. Sleep offered some respite, she had, had so little since news of her family, and so she managed an hour or so, she did not dream.

The sound of the door jolted her awake.

It was the lock first, and at that she quickly sat up, arranged her skirts, she was no pretty picture, filthy as she was, but she sat back straight, head high, they wouldn't take her dignity, they had already had everything else, that was all she had left.

Again, she felt calm, if this were to be her end, so be it.

I can be with them again…

It was the light she saw first, the cell was dark, the black cells as they were called, for her station she should have been in a tower cell or under guard, but Cersei had ordered her here, face full of hatred and malice, she wished she had ran, but felt too tired to care that she hadn't.

Part of her wanted to raise a hand, as even the light from the torch made her squint, but she did not, instead she just sat still, she wouldn't show them her discomfort.

But there was no them, just him.

He followed the light of the torch, and it was only through her time here, in Kings Landing 'we're all liars here' did she manage to keep her composure, her eyes widening a touch but nothing else betrayed her, nothing, not a flicker, not a sound. Her surprise near swelled over her heart, her curiosity biting at her throat, but she made none of that known.

Prince Oberyn seemed to regard her with curiosity himself as he stepped into her cell, the light of the torch throwing his handsome features into focus.

They'd had little interaction since he'd arrived, she knew of him of course; the Red Viper of Dorne, for his losses, his sister and niece and nephew cruelly ripped away, she knew that had been the source of her Fathers first falling out with the King, though they'd reconciled; perhaps if they hadn't, she wouldn't be here, she'd be in the North where she belonged.

Regardless, they'd been introduced in court one morning, she'd curtsied, eyes hard, barriers and courtesies firmly up, no more than an empty platitude spoken to him. She hated court, hated being dragged to it, but she stood alone, slightly off to one side, Tyrion usually missed it and so she stood firm and still, not drawing attention, ignoring any attempts to catch her eye or talk.

They'd been introduced and that was all, she couldn't imagine why he was here.

She should stand, courtesy, after all she was just Lady Lannister, the wife of a 2nd born son, the heir to Winterfell yes but nothing more, Prince Oberyn was a Prince of Dorne, she should stand and courtesy and know her station.

Sansa didn't though, for the first time in years she let her courtesies slip for a moment, just a moment, she'd be leaving this place soon anyway, and she was tired, so very tired, eternal sleep couldn't come soon enough, so why bother?

"Prince Oberyn" She was still polite, that had been taught to her by her mother and she wouldn't dishonour her now, "I didn't expect any visitors" Polite, kind, very voice a little cracked from disuse, but she'd done her part, she didn't know why he was here, but she could hardly ask him to leave.

Sansa wished he would though, so she could sit here in peace until her time came. Perhaps she'd pray, she'd tried for years and nothing, but if she were to go to the grave soon it might be good to talk to the Old Gods, she just had to hope the Weirwoods would hear her from here.

"I apologise for not coming sooner" Her eyebrow raised at that, why would he have come sooner? Why had he come at all? "I was spending some time with an absolutely stunning blonde"

Her cheeks heated a touch at that, she was still unbedded after all, a maiden proper, but she just nodded, "Oh?" What else was there to say, she was still trying to discern why he had come.

"Your once good-Mother to be" Without meaning to her hands screwed into fists at his words then, nails biting hard into the skin, she remained silent then, why had he come? To taunt her? He hadn't struck her as cruel, but then perhaps she had been wrong, most people in the world were cruel.

"Cersei approached me, we spoke a great deal about her daughter, how worried Cersei is about her, she was trying very hard to pretend she had not come to sway me against you, I think she may have even believed it herself" Ahh.

Sansa had been told the day before her trial would sit three judges; Lord Tywin in King Tommen's place, Mace Tyrell and then Oberyn Martell, all to decide her fate for Kingslaying. She had barely been listening, she didn't care about a trial, only planned to assert her innocence with her head held high and then leave it at that.

Prince Oberyn was here no doubt to play with her, like a cat plays with a mouse, she wished he would go but her politeness won out, even as her annoyance wouldn't leave her, did everyone feel a need to play with her? Mess with her head and treat her like a toy or a pet? Why couldn't she be left alone? Why couldn't anyone leave her alone?

"Making honest feelings do dishonest work is one of the Queens many talents" The words were stupid to say, foolish, dangerous, but then she almost laughed; what did she have to fear now? Still, she almost gasped at the end of the sentence, she hadn't known she had it in her.

Prince Oberyn didn't seem to mind though, not as he levelled his gaze on her, Sansa kept it, didn't look away, yes, she was a little scared but her blue gaze was clear and cold, she wouldn't flinch, he seemed to like that, she could see respect in his gaze.

I am a wolf; I can be brave.

"It was difficult for her to hide her true intentions" Oberyn said with a shrug, Sansa had come to learn to read people in Kings Landing, but she knew with Prince Oberyn she was outclassed, "Which is rare, to meet a Lannister who shares my enthusiasm for dead Lannister's?" He laughed then, but there was no humour, none at all, "She desperately wants to see your husband, Lord Tyrion and you killed"

She still didn't know why he was here, but she didn't ask, not yet.

"I don't think she needed to bother you" Her tone again was polite, clear, though some anger had crept in, rare for her, but again it wasn't directed at Prince Oberyn but the world, the whole cruel world, "I think she'll get what she wants, and I imagine she'll feel great joy when my head leaves my neck"

She paused then, her fists were still curled in, blood likely welling under her filthy nails, she didn't care, maybe an infection would take her, maybe that would be easier, "She'll be more pleased about Lord Tyrion of course, she has wanted that for a long time"

Sansa spoke clearly, as though just relaying facts, not as though she were talking about her own demise, perhaps it was apathy, perhaps it was resignation, perhaps something else.

"Yes" Prince Oberyn nodded, "But with Lord Tyrion she will not get what she wants"

"No?" Sansa asked almost idly, she didn't care for Tyrion, she could never care for a Lannister, but he had been kind to her, "Why is that?"

"He escaped" Prince Oberyn said with a shrug, "This morning, no one knows how but he's gone, the guards were drugged, and a ship bound for Pentos left this morning"

And at that Sansa Stark laughed.

Laughed so loudly it was unladylike, laughed as though it were coming from her very heart, laughed, and laughed, not even noticing Prince Oberyn's sad smile. She was suddenly glad he had come, if only to deliver her that news, his motives didn't matter to her anymore, not when he had given her such a gift, which she felt a need to say.

"Thank you" She said, her giggles petering out but her smile clear, she didn't realise she looked beautiful, even caked in filth, her beauty shone through, "That will see me to the executioners block with a smile, to know the Queen will be so furious and disappointed, thank you for that gift"

"You're welcome" Prince Oberyn said, with a smile of his own, deadly, but she could see some pity in his gaze, that was not good, and it took all of her courtesies not to throw it back in his face, "But Lady Sansa, don't be foolish"

"Foolish?" She asked, and there was some defiance in her tone, broken as she was, she knew she was going soon, so what did she care for the consequences? What did she care at all anymore? "What can they do to me now Prince Oberyn? They will take my life, why should I be scared anymore?"

"Sweet girl" He said it with endearment, it was the first time someone had called her that without any underlying intentions, not since her Father maybe, it felt strange and a little bit sad. "They aren't going to execute you"


Fear, it was an odd thing, a strange thing. It crept up on a person, or slammed all at once, made itself known with a cackle and a boot through the door.

Until now Sansa had felt flickers of it, sat in her cell contemplating her fate, but it had been mostly absent, to know it would be over soon, it would all be over, and she would be with her family again. Fear had left her alone for once, perhaps in respite, and she had been okay, peaceful even, even with knowing what was to come.

But now, at Prince Oberyn's words … it, fear slammed into her, like a gust of wind whipping across a valley, like a horse and cart knocking her off the road, like the smack of a sword against her back as Joffrey ordered her beaten.

"No" She spoke too soon, should have processed, understood, and responded calmly, as she had been so good at doing. Many had commented on it, 'nothing rattles her not anymore', 'she is so calm', 'I've never seen anything flicker in those blue eyes', but now it had all fallen away from her, as a horrid, ragged gasp left her lips, threatening to choke her, to strangle the life out of her.

"No, no, no" She had fallen to a whisper, she only didn't stand because she felt too weak, her hands shook now, uncurled, blood on her palms, "No, they will, they will"

"No" Prince Oberyn offered, and his kindness; he didn't know her after all, was almost too much, "You're far too important, they will see you live"

"But the Queen" She said, her gaze meeting the Princes then, and she knew as before her gaze had been clear, now it was brimming with terror, not that she might die, but that she might live.

"The Queen will be overruled by the Hand" Again his tone was gentle, and that near killed her, "They will likely put it all on Lord Tyrion, see you innocent and married again, you're too valuable to kill"

"I won't do it" Her tone was harsh then, all of her courtesies forgotten, unravelled, as she looked at the Prince, who she realised wasn't playing with her, wasn't mocking her, but had just come out of kindness, she was thankful for him, but part of her wished he hadn't come, so she could live in ignorance and perhaps make for the nearest window when she had the chance. "I won't"

"You won't have a choice" Again gentle, and it near made her scream.

"No, no, no" She had promised herself she wouldn't cry, but soon tears were mixing with the mud on her face, with the dirt from how low she had fallen, would she ever rise? She didn't think so. She dropped her gaze, her eyes falling to look into her lap, at the blood half-moon marks on her palms, she'd never felt such despair.

"No, the Queen wants me dead, and sooner or later Cersei always gets what she wants" She insisted but the fight had left her voice, for what else did she have?

Nothing.

"And what about what I want?" It was Prince Oberyn's tone that had gaze lifted again, the sheer anger she could hear, and somehow, for some reason, something came to her, something blossomed in a place that had been dead and barren for so long, something in Oberyn's words, his fury, it allowed it.

Hope.

"Justice" He paused, "Justice for my sister and her children"

"If you want justice, you've come to the wrong place" Sansa said, for he had, there was no justice here, no honour, oh how she missed the North, the snows of Winterfell, maybe one day she'd return, in another life after this one.

"I disagree" Tears continued to leak down her cheeks as Prince Oberyn spoke, though that tiny spark of hope was not extinguished, not yet.

He stood, tall and imposing, and then he held out a hand to her.

Why she took it she didn't know.

But she did, tired as she was, as much as she had given up, she took it, allowed him to guide her up, his calloused palm gentle as he clasped her hand, her skirts rustling on the floor as they fell around her, wobbling a little bit but steadying somewhat. She stood tall, head held high now, even as tears decorated her cheeks, there was hope but even if it was gone, she would not be cowed, not again, not ever.

And yet the hope wasn't gone, and as Prince Oberyn continued to speak, it bloomed.

"I've come to the perfect place" He released her hand then, moved to stand next to the torch he had brought with him, and whereas when he had arrived, she had seen his handsomeness reflected, now she saw his fury. "I want to bring those who have wronged my to justice, and all those who have wronged me are right here"

That they had in common.

"I will begin with Ser Gregor Clegane who killed my sisters' children and then raped her with their blood still on his hands before killing her too" Prince Oberyn said, his expression fierce, his tone held no room for argument, and Sansa wouldn't have argued.

"How?" She asked, her voice no longer a whisper, the tears had stopped, and she took a step forward then, the most important step of her life, "Tell me how"

"You know how" He said, gentle once more, but the venom cut through his tone, not for her, for them.

All of them who had wronged him, who had wronged her.

She did know how, she nodded, and then he spoke the words out loud.

"I will be your champion"

And even though she had vowed it, even though she had stood strong, she near crumpled, she wept, but Prince Oberyn caught her before she could fall.

'Valentine is done, here but now they're gone. Romeo and Juliet are together in eternity, 40,000 men and women everyday, another 40,00 coming everyday, don't fear the reaper, baby take my hand, we'll be able to fly'

Notes:

sooo thoughts?

ahhh, I so enjoyed writing this! adapting a scene to fit this pairing, I loved it, and I hope you did too!

there is going to be fireworks to say the least, and you can already see major canon divergences.

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