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Sansa the Vampire Slayer

Summary:

Sansa and her family have just suddenly moved from their comfortable home in the affluent town of Belvedere, California to Cleveland, Ohio.

Notes:

OKAY. SO. This is GRRM's ASOIAF set in Joss Whedon's Buffyverse. You don't have to have watched/read Buffy for this to make sense, but if you have, you'll probably know where this is headed. I will almost exclusively be using ASOIAF canon characters, but no Whedonverse ones. There will be no character crossover. This is not quite a "crossover" fic in that respect- these events take place after Sunnydale closes shop for good. (Rated T for now, but obviously I'll obliterate that eventually and aim for E.)

Chapter 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sansa’s eyes shot open the moment she heard the soft squeak of her bedroom window being opened. She waited for a moment for the sound to continue and this moment to clarify itself. Once it opened further, she slowly reached for the wooden baseball bat she kept under her bed and kicked the covers off herself with as little noise as possible.

It was so early in the morning that it was still quite dim in her room, especially with the curtains pulled shut. The window creaked again, and a small figure began to enter. Sansa glanced down at her pajamas, wishing she hadn’t decided to sleep in tiny turquoise satin shorts. She took a deep breath and raised the bat, readying her swing. The small creature landed softly in a nimble crouch, and Sansa swung with all her strength.

“Hey!” Arya hissed furiously, ducking quickly.

Sansa advanced, pointing the bat squarely into her sister’s chest. “This is what you get for breaking and entering.”

“Sorry.” Arya shrugged, nonchalant.

“What the hell are you doing? Are you kidding me right now with this rebel teen bullshit behavior? Did you seriously sneak out last night? Also, more importantly, you snuck out wearing that?” Sansa demanded angrily.

She tucked her long red hair behind her ears and stuck her hands on her hips. “It’s our first day of school. We haven’t even been here a week. What were you doing?” Sansa hissed in a whisper.

The room had lightened some with brighter morning light and a breeze ruffled the curtains from the open window. Arya rolled her eyes, pulling her dirty sweatshirt over her head and going to her dresser across the room, rifling through a drawer for a clean t-shirt.  Their new bedroom was still full of unpacked boxes.

Sansa went to her bed and rolled the bat back under it before sitting down in the middle of it with an impatient huff. She watched Arya finish yanking off her muddy jeans before flouncing onto the other bed, face down and sprawling. Sansa sat primly, arms folded, staring at her sister’s back, hoping that she could feel her eyes boring into her and it was making her too uncomfortable to sleep.

Arya sighed, and turned her head to face Sansa. Half of her face was smushed into the pillow, so she looked at Sansa through one squinting eye and mumbled exhaustedly into it rather than to Sansa.

“Look, I promise I’ll tell you everything, okay? But I’m really beat, and unlike you, I didn’t get a full night’s beauty rest. I’d like to sleep at least a little before I have to put on that ridiculous uniform and parade around St. Marks.”

“You don’t like the kilts we have to wear?” Sansa asked, glancing over to where hers was hung, neatly ironed, on the back of her closet door.

“You do?” Arya asked incredulously. “Ugh, yeah, I guess you would.” She mumbled with finality and distaste before turning her face away again and dozing off.

Sansa rolled her eyes at her little sister’s remark. When they’d been picking out school uniform outfits for their new school, Sansa had gotten the last of the plaid kilts and Arya, scowling, had chosen some matronly navy slacks. 

Sansa liked her little uniform. It made her feel cute. They’d just moved to Shaker Heights, Ohio from Belvedere, California. Her father, Ned Stark, had been the city attorney there. At their old school in California, uniforms hadn’t been a requirement and the dress code hadn’t generally been enforced.

Sansa drew her thin knees up to her chest and watched her sister’s back rise and fall with slow, steady breaths. The room was getting brighter and hotter with the morning sun creeping in.

She missed their old house. She missed it so much. Their home was built into a cliff above the Richardson bay and from all windows on the southeast side of the enormous, palatial home perched high above the cove- you could see the golden gate bridge alighting the horizon. She’d had her own room, and the walls had been painted robin’s egg blue- a shade lighter, like you were on the inside of the egg about to poke through to the sunshine on the other side of the shell.

Arya and Sansa had haphazardly taped paint swatches to their new bedroom wall. Sansa was favoring delicate turquoise colors and periwinkles, with a few beautiful mint greens, while Arya had selected some harsh fuchsias and greys.

Sansa sighed. She picked up the small alarm clock off the nightstand between their beds and saw she still had three hours until she even had to be at school. The house was still and quiet, except for the faraway rough snores coming from one of her three older brothers sleeping upstairs. They each got their own bedroom up there, in a converted and enormous attic. It was a decision that Sansa contested heatedly in the first few days in their new home.

Her and Arya’s bedroom was at the end of the hall from their parents, while Bran and Rickon were downstairs. Bran had it worst, she mused while stretching her arms above her head. At least she and Arya were relatively close in age, while Bran, eight, had to share a bedroom with Rickon- who was just a baby still, only three years old.

Her satin shorts pooled around her ankles and she kicked them off, looking for a pair of clean leggings on the floor by her bed. She grabbed a ratty Runaways shirt of Arya’s and pulled it over her head before grabbing her sneakers and iPhone and tiptoeing out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.

===+=== 

She ran along the sidewalk with her carefully curated Spotify workout playlist pumping in her ears and urging her forward. It was currently on “Roar” by Katy Perry but before that had been “Party Up” by DMX.

She had to give Ohio credit for one thing, though, and that was the authenticity of the approaching autumn. The way the old oak trees curled over the quiet street and dripped leaves of gold and orange was amazing, and the air had a crispness to it that felt bracing. Autumns in Belvedere had been very rainy and wet, for the most part. Sansa ran past Victorian-style homes similar to her family’s, all towering monuments to 1920’s craftsmanship.

She took a sharp and sudden right down another street at random, figuring she could always use Google maps on her phone to find her way back home later. The street sloped downwards gently and wound off to the left, and Sansa kept running full-tilt down the decline. Ahead, she saw a wrought iron fence encasing idyllic grassy lawns and a small duck pond. Assuming it was a park, she sprinted into the road to get a closer look.

Her music had been too loud for her to hear his motorcycle roar around the bend.

She felt the vibrations on the road, though, and snapped her head around just in time to see an enormous and scarred hand close around the hand lever brake. When it wasn’t enough to stop in time, he used his massive bodyweight to countersteer the bike and she heard the tires squealing as the huge man on the motorcycle barreled towards her.

She didn’t know what instinct it was that made her get out of the way in a nanosecond, but she was thankful for it. She also didn’t know why the instinct instructed her to leap as she had, over the man and the motorcycle like she was diving neatly into a lake, but instead of hitting the water, she hit the pavement with her palms and somersaulted forward. She stood upright neatly and immediately, and jogged back to where the man was laying under his bike, trying to remove his helmet.

She yanked the earbuds out of her ears and wound the cord around her wrist. She pulled the motorcycle off of him; surprised she was able to do so. She’d always thought they’d looked much heavier than that. Technology these days, she supposed.

The man was built like an ox. He was built, period. He had strong arms and broad shoulders and from what she could see, a perfectly tapered waist that made her feel like a cartoon wolf- cartoon hearts for eyes, cartoon tongue unfurling on the floor. Ah-ooo-ga.

He pried his helmet off with a groan, and from where Sansa knelt; she saw all high cheekbone and full lips. He had dark hair that was nearly black, and it was longish and falling into his eyes. 

When he sat up and turned his head to look at her, she saw the burns. Half of his face was covered in burn scars that had long since healed, but still tugged at one corner of his mouth. His eyes were grey and glinting with what she interpreted as fury.

He stood upright and advanced on her and Sansa felt a sudden stab of fear- he was huge, he was so tall. He was wearing a dark grey t-shirt under a worn brown leather coat that fit him perfectly, and she saw beneath the hem of his dark rinse jeans that he was wearing steel-toed work boots. He had to be in his late 20’s, at least.

She stood up and backed away a few steps as he got closer, but she didn’t run away.

“Stop, lass.” He commanded gruffly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He was a full foot taller than she was, at least. He towered over her. He gazed at her, top to bottom, his brow furrowed.

“There’s not a mark on you.” He said.

Sansa shrugged. She suddenly wished she’d worn makeup.

“Are you alright?” He rumbled. She nodded.

“Good.” He exhaled. “Now you can tell me what the fuck you were doing running out into street like that. What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you some kind of idiot? Don’t they teach little girls to look both ways before crossing the street?” He growled menacingly at her.

Sansa backed away from him again, rolling her eyes and unfurling her headphones and beginning to put them back into her ears. What a fucking asshole.

“Hey, girl, what are you even doing coming to a bloody cemetery this early?” He asked to her retreating back.

Sansa paused in her scrolling through tracks and turned back around to look up at him. He pointed behind her, to her right. She looked in that direction and saw old and crumbling gravestones she hadn’t noticed before, edged with dark green moss and dusted with autumn leaves.

“What are you even doing leaving a cemetery this early?” She shot back rudely. He glowered at her.

“We’re done here. Thanks for running me over, mister.” She told him, and turned around again.

When she reached the gates of the cemetery, her speed picked up to a jog. After a few seconds, her curiosity overcame her and she left the path to duck behind a thick maple tree. With her music still blasting through her headphones, she peered around the tree’s trunk to watch him.

He was stuffing the spilled contents of his leather satchel back inside it. He slung it across his shoulder and reached for his helmet, placing it back over his head.  He walked to where his motorcycle lay on the road. He easily pulled it upright again, and swung his legs over to straddle it.

He looked in her direction and Sansa yanked herself back behind the tree. She heard him kickstart the bike and she didn’t move again until she heard its low rumble fading in the distance.

She only ran for another few minutes, sprinting through the beautiful cemetery and autumn leaves until she decided it was finally time to get ready for her first day of school. When she was leaving Lake View Cemetery, she saw something on the road where the man had crashed.

She picked up the large wooden crucifix curiously. She might have been able to justify a crucifix in a cemetery, but the most peculiar thing was that the end of it had been crudely sharpened into a dangerous-looking point. She lightly pressed the pad of her fingertip to it, wondering. 

Notes:

ARE U GUYS READY FOR THIS

BC I AM SO EXCITED