This one is being truly hated at AO3, so I decided to put it in here too, in order to see what happens.

Warnings! I take Starks very seriously. I mean it, I love them all and hate all characters that did them any harm. I literally cried in anger when the Freys gave their version of Red Wedding to Davos. And I truly adore Sansa, but I think that, at some point, she must have felt the way I'm writing here.

So, leave your reviews and let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: ASOIAF belongs to George Martin.


Winter's Fault

Sansa closed her eyes to try and forget all that horror, but just the fact she was practically naked and lying beside that disgusting little man made all her efforts not to panic vanish as if she wasn't even trying. The tears that soaked her pillow were just inevitable. How stupid could she be? After everything she went through, she should have seen Cersei's intentions when she ordered that new dress. There was no reason for that loathsome Lannister to give her anything, unless, of course, if she was planning something. And, coming from a Lannister, cruel just wasn't enough.

Why hadn't she left with Sandor when he gave her the chance? She had learned to trust him with the time they spent together, she had understood him a bit and even liked him. Then why, for the gods, hadn't she left with him?

Because you are a stupid little bird.

Marring Tyrion Lannister was the biggest humiliation of her whole life. Her mother raised her to be the fair and kind lady to an important lord, to rule together with him, helping him with his burdens. She, however, had another dream, entirely. She wanted to be held by a handsome and honourable knight, one that would fall in love with her and protect her from all evil – just like Jonquil and Florian.

But cruel destiny gave her neither. Cersei Lannister gave Sansa her little brother, that not even the queen herself was capable of loving. Cersei gave her the Imp. Just thinking of it made her cry even harder.

For a moment she had thought she would find her happiness, just like Margaery's grandmother had promised. She thought she would escape to High Garden and marry Willas. She would be fulfilling her mother's expectations, which was way better than what she was living now.

At least he didn't force himself on me.

Gods, what would had she done if he had wanted to claim his rights as her husband? Would she puke in disgust? Or would she just cry and wait until he was done? Either way, just the idea made her sick.

For a moment he wore my father's colours. The giant wolf on the back of a lion.

It was wrong in so many levels that Sansa couldn't even begin to number them all. And it was her fault. Because she was weak and stupid. Arya was younger than her, but she had managed to escape on her own, keeping their name clean of the Lannister's miasma. And what did she, Sansa, do? She went straight to Cersei, to tell the queen her father would send them away.

And now he is dead. Because of me.

So, her destiny was her fault. Her being married with Tyrion was all her fault. She was the traitor, not her father. She was the Stark that deserved to be beheaded by Sor Ilyn Payne, not him.

She had tried to keep him alive. The queen guaranteed they would send him to the Wall. The queen promised her.

Suddenly, it was suffocating to stay in that room. She wanted to run away, far, far away. Go somewhere they would never find her. With Arya, with her mother, with Robb, with Bran, even with Jon, it didn't matter, as long as she was once again among Starks. Her family.

The winter will kill the lonely wolf, but the pack can survive. Her father always told them that. And the winter is always coming. She was a wolf. She was a Stark of Winterfell. And that was her winter, it was all her family's winter. They needed to be together, not spread around the map.

Not anymore. Now you are a lion. And it is all your fault.

That was no ordinary winter. It was winter she had brought upon all of them, so now she paid for it. For the winter's fault, the marriage with the broken lion.