Pairing: Ned Dayne/Sansa Stark
Disclaimer: All ASoIaF belongs to Martin, no money made, no ownership claimed.
Prompt: From the "Valar-MoreKinks" meme.
It wasn't fair and yet...
Daenerys knew herself well enough to know this, she was jealous of Sansa Stark.
She shouldn't be, but she was.
Sansa was a beautiful woman. She herself had been called beautiful, some even said she was the most beautiful woman in the world, yet, standing next to Sansa, she felt plain. Even if her silver locks shone and with bejeweled eyes, she felt nothing compared to a woman who was, in her opinion, a far greater beauty.
Sansa was tall and lean, but with curves that made many men look at her. A face that seemed to be carved of the finest marble, with high cheekbones, rosy lips and sparkling eyes. A soft and kind voice rounded her physical attributes.
And she was loved. Oh she was.
While people both lowborn and noble alike flocked to her, she was under no delusions as to why. She had regained a throne by conquest, with three ever growing dragons, she who had not hesitated to end her enemies. So people came to her, for power, for greed, for desired, but none of them came for love.
Sansa was loved in court, she made herself loved by being kind and gentle. She had time for all who went to her. War and suffering had made her wise, and she used her wisdom in favor for those who needed it.
She had been the one to answer the call in the name of Little Lord Arryn when it came to the battle to prevent the Long Night. She had even distributed food wisely to both the Riverlands and the North. And whenever she was needed in the capital, she made sure she did charity freely and joyfully. The people loved her. She was tolerated and feared.
And she was loved in a more intimate manner too.
Her own marriage lacked love, it had yet to come and she wanted it. She hoped for it, but so far, it was only a political marriage, no more.
She had seen the way Lord Dayne looked at Sansa, and every time she felt a knot in her throat, it was the same way her Sun and Stars looked at her. So full of love and devotion, like she could do no wrong. But then, maybe in his eyes, she didn't.
Once, she had asked them to join her for a private dinner. She wanted to know more, she wanted to satiate her curiosity, so she had asked how they met. Lord Dayne had recalled with perfect detail when they had met in Winterfell, what now felt seemed a lifetime ago, when the former royal retinue had gone North.
But he had confessed that they had not been properly introduced until the war. He had gone North again, he said, to fight the coming darkness when she had been the one receiving visitors and he had been left speechless, struck dumb by her beauty.
Sansa had laughed then, and admitted that she had found him handsome then, but was wary, after all, many had tried for her hand and her inheritance. But after the war, when her sister Arya had been the one to declare him one of the good ones, she gave him the chance.
And now there they were, married and in complete joy. She had smiled politely then, but had felt an enormous amount of jealousy then.
And now? It seemed like the slaps never stopped. Sansa had announced that she was with child, four moons gone, and was glowing with happiness and she? Nothing. The Maesters told her to wait, not to rush, babes took time they said.
But she remembered her Rhaego and felt a bitterness unlike any other. She wanted a child more than anything. A babe to love and felt joy over, another member of House Targaryen. An heir, but so far, no luck.
And the jealousy she felt over Sansa Stark was irrational and deep.
...and yet she was The Queen.