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nordschleifes · 7 months

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chapter five — inevitable

➝ trapped in imola after the torrential rains in the region, charlie and fernando are forced to cooperate with each other. however, what was supposed to be just one night in a tiny hotel in the city center becomes their moment of reckoning. and it only has one bed.

➝ word count: 9,2k

➝ warnings: panic attack, flooding, mentions of trauma, smut

➝ author's note: there is no little chapter here, as you can see. tagging @christianpulisic10, @alonsogirlie and @enaticosencantados as requested.

Leaning against the door of the white car, Charlie felt a strange feeling inside her chest as she stared at the bridge over the Santerno River, which was completely flooded. It was definitely not something she’d expected to see so close to the circuit.

— I don't think I'm going to make it through, miss — the taxi driver, a Moroccan man who spoke in heavily accented English, said.

— Is there no way across?

— I can't risk it, miss, I'm sorry.

She huffed in frustration. It was the last thing she needed that day, considering how hellish it had been so far. Charlie had left England early that morning after a battle of wills with Ron, who refused to get into his carrier to be taken to her grandparents' house. After arriving at the airport at the last minute, she had to wait for nearly two hours for the plane to take off for Zurich, where she would take another flight to Bologna.

There was another long delay from Zurich to Bologna, which turned an hour-long layover into nearly a three hour wait until her plane started boarding. Then, another hour of waiting on the runway for the plane to get takeoff clearance. It seemed like the universe was playing a bad joke on her.

It was already dusk when Charlie arrived at Imola, after spending even more time in passport control at the airport. “Thank you, Brexit”, she thought, as she put her passport in her bag and smiled at the agent who had finally stamped her entry document. However, instead of the charming city that she had visited several times, she found mud and destruction, the result of intense rains that had hit the region.

— Honestly, I don't even know if there will be a race if it keeps raining like this — the taxi driver said, as they followed the highway into the city.

It might seem like a selfish desire at the moment, but the last thing Charlie needed was for the race to be called off. She had gone through so much trouble to get to Imola that it would seem like an injustice. However, after seeing the bridge filled with water right next to the race track, the possibility seemed real.

— Miss? — the driver asked — Would you like to go somewhere else?

Charlie sighed, trying to collect her thoughts.

— Let me check my phone, just a second — she said, as she sat back in the cab and dug through her purse for the device. However, Charlie had another unpleasant surprise when she realized that her battery was dead.

— Is everything okay?

— I'm out of battery — Charlie said, a frustrated smile on her face — Everything is great.

— Well, if you want, I can take you downtown. I know there are some hotels and hostels there. I don't know if any have vacancies, but someone will be able to offer you some help, I'm sure — the man said, giving her a sympathetic smile.

“It’s not like I have much choice”, she thought, before accepting his offer.

After reaching downtown Imola, Charlie paid the man and thanked him for his help. She walked through the streets with her backpack on her back, dragging her suitcase behind her, trying to identify on the signs something that indicated that there was a hotel there.

After walking four blocks and not understanding anything she'd been told other than "no vacancies" at two hotels she’d found, Charlie couldn't get the idea of sleeping on the streets out of her head, a daunting prospect considering how cloudy was the sky over the town.

However, Charlie’s chest filled with hope when she turned a corner.

Parked near the town square was a grey SUV that she recognized as an Aston Martin. “A DBX 707”, she thought. She walked towards the vehicle, thinking that maybe not all was lost, even when she discovered that the car was empty. Maybe the car’s owner was nearby.

Releasing the handle of her suitcase, she walked around the car, spotting a Swiss license plate on the front bumper. “Maybe the owner speaks English”, she thought, smiling to herself.

— Charlie? — a familiar, accented voice said from behind her. As she turned around, she felt the smile fade and tension rise in her shoulders. Standing near the back of the car, wearing a dark green sweatshirt and holding a bottle of water, was Fernando Alonso — What are you doing here?

— What are you doing here? — she asked back, raising an eyebrow.

— I have a race here on Sunday, didn't you know?

— Of course I know, but — Charlie hesitated — It's Tuesday.

He smiled.

— I saw online that there could be problems getting there because of the weather so I decided to come earlier. And you, what are you doing here?

— I always come to the circuits on Tuesdays.

— Oh, I see — he said, taking a sip of his water — Are you staying around here?

— No, actually, I intended to stay close to the circuit but…

— The bridge is washed out — Fernando said — Yeah, I know.

— Were you going to stay at La Fondazza? — Charlie asked, as Fernando nodded — Did you already find another place to stay?

— I was talking to the people in the cafe about it and they told me about a place that might have a room. And you?

— I was looking for a place around here — she murmured, looking up at the sky at the sound of distant thunder. It made something tighten inside her chest — I've been to two hostels nearby but there's no room available. I don't know where to look anymore...

— Well, if they have room for me, they must have room for you. Do you want to come with me?

She couldn't hide her surprise at his offer. After feeling like she was at war with him for years, Charlie still wasn't used to him treating her with kindness. She dreaded this newer, softer Fernando disappearing any moment to make way for the Fernando she knew and hated.

— Yeah, I do.

She placed her bags next to his in the car’s lift gate and settled into the black and white leather passenger seat. As she buckled her seat belt, she couldn't help but notice the vehicle's dashboard and center console, whose design was strongly inspired by sports cars.

— Have you already seen the 707? — Fernando asked.

— Only from the outside, I've never been inside one — Charlie replied, her eyes glued to the dashboard — Which engine does it have?

— It's a four-litre twin-turbo V8, all hand-assembled. It produces 707 horsepower and more than 90 kgfm of torque. It has roller turbines and a different calibration to increase the turbocharger revs.

— Fantastic — she murmured as the driver pressed the button to start the car. The low sound of the engine made Charlie look up at him, a wide smile on her face. She was completely delighted — It goes from zero to 100 in about 3 seconds, doesn't it?

— 3.3 — he said, as he maneuvered the car out of the parking space — How do you know that?

— I calculated it in my head.

— So quickly?

— You know I have a degree in mechanical engineering and a graduate degree in automotive engineering, right?

— That doesn't mean you're necessarily good at mental calculations.

— But, I am. My grandmother was a maths teacher, so I grew up learning to love numbers.

Fernando smiled as he made a left turn.

— So, your grandmother was a teacher and your grandfather was a mechanic?

— Well, sort of. My grandfather was in the Royal Air Force for a long time, and he worked on airplane engines. He has always been fascinated by engines and everything about them. He met my grandmother during a visit with her students to the RAF museum.

— And where do cars come into this story? — he asked.

— He always liked cars and racing. And, considering he had a wife and daughter at home to look after, once he left the military, he started taking jobs in a body shop in Birmingham. He still does that today, even though his focus is on older cars, nowadays. I help from time to time when I visit.

— And that means you know how to work with engines? — Fernando asked, looking a little surprised.

— Of course I do! — Charlie replied, indignant — Remember that I have a degree...

— Charlie, having a degree doesn't mean you know how to disassemble and assemble an engine — he said, looking both ways before passing through an intersection. The sidewalks were smeared with mud.

— The point is, I know how to work with engines. In fact, I’m comfortable with the entire drive train. It helped me a lot during secondary school, when I needed to save money for university.

— You worked in a body shop?

— No, at a kart circuit.

Fernando glanced at her, surprised.

— You fixed go-karts?

— Yes, I did. Why is that surprising?

— Because I also fixed go-karts when I was younger — he said — I needed money to race, so I took care of the younger boys' karts, since I was strong enough to tighten the wheels and adjust the engine. That’s how I met Alberto.

— Were you his mechanic?

— Yeah — Fernando replied, as he slowed down the car — I think this is the place they told me about in the cafe. Ziò, they said.

Looking out the window, Charlie saw that there was a burgundy sign with that word, along with the outline of a moon and three stars. It sure looked like a hotel.

— Yeah, I think so — she murmured as Fernando parked the car between a Twizy and a Volvo.

They got out of the car and Fernando offered to take Charlie’s suitcase. Charlie declined, and they walked into the lobby and saw a man sitting at the wooden counter, seemingly distracted by something on the screen in front of him.

— Buonasera — Fernando said, making the man look up.

— Buonasera, mi chiamo Riccardo, como pode aiutarvi? — he said, smiling.

— Siamo del team Aston Martin e siamo venuti alla gara, ma la strada per l'hotel che abbiamo prenotato è allagata. Volevo sapere se avevi delle stanze dove stare per la notte — the driver said, in practically perfect Italian. Charlie, for a moment, wondered how he knew Italian so well until she remembered the five years he had spent at Ferrari.

The memory of seeing him for the first time, walking past her with a troop of Ferrari employees in Melbourne, made Charlie's skin tingle. “He should wear red more often”, she thought, while Fernando discussed something with the employee, the expression on his face looking less than happy with what he was hearing.

— Nessun'altra opzione, magari con due letti?

— Purtroppo ci rimane solo questa stanza — Riccardo replied.

Fernando sighed, before turning to look at her. He did not look pleased.

— They only have one room available, for two people.

Charlie pursed her lips thoughtfully. In an ideal situation, she would never consider sharing a hotel room with Fernando Alonso. However, this was far from an ideal situation. The entire region was in chaos, some hotels couldn’t take in guests, and the others were full. Most of the people due in town for the race hadn’t even arrived yet. A single room was better than none.

— Two beds? — she asked, with an almost naive hope.

— Just one — Fernando said — Look, it's not a problem for me, you can have the room and I'll find another place to sleep tonight...

— No — she said flatly — You found this place, it’s only fair that you stay here.

— Charlie, you're staying here, I'll find another place. That, or, I can sleep in my car, the seat is comfortable and…

— You're not going to sleep in your car, Fernando. You need to sleep well to perform well.

— So, what do you suggest?

Looking into Fernando’s brown eyes, Charlie hesitated for a few seconds. She knew she would regret it. “One night won't hurt anyone”, she thought.

— We can share.

He raised an eyebrow.

— Share?

— You know, when you distribute something proportionately between two people. I imagine you're not very familiar with this concept, but it's what normal people do, especially when they’re in situations like this.

Fernando rolled his eyes.

— I know what sharing is, I just didn't expect you saying you want to share a room with me. Especially after — he hesitated for a few seconds — Everything.

— So you can see the effort I'm making.

He smirked.

— Don't worry — the driver said, before turning back to the hotel employee — Prendiamo questa stanza.

After settling into their room, a small suite with mint-colored walls and a wooden floor, they went to a nearby restaurant that Riccardo had suggested for dinner. When they returned, Charlie took a shower and put on a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt.

— Seagulls? — she heard Fernando say, looking at her t-shirt with a small smile on his face.

— Yes.

— Why?

— It's my team's symbol.

— Team? Like, football?

— Yeah. Brighton.

— Really? Aren’t you from Northampton?

— Yes, I am, but my grandfather is originally from Brighton, though, so I grew up supporting Brighton. Anyway, we’re having a good year. I think we will play in the Europa League next season. It will depend on this Sunday’s match.

— Who do they play against?

— Manchester City — she said, making him chuckle.

— Good luck to them — Fernando said, setting his phone on the bedside table — Difficult team to face.

— I know. We already lost to them this season, but we only need a draw — Charlie replied as he sat down on the bed.

— We just needed a draw too — Fernando muttered — But it was at their stadium…

— The game is at the Amex, not at the Etihad — she said she pulled the duvet up — It will be alright.

— We’ll see — Fernando said — Good night, Charlie.

— Good night — she said softly. Then, the room went dark.

Charlie thought that, with travel fatigue, it would be easy to fall asleep. However, she hadn’t factored in the weather. It had started to fall more heavily on the area by the time they had gone to dinner, which made her apprehensive. Fernando had even noticed her unease, but Charlie managed to play it down.

However, in the dark and quiet of the hotel room, the sound of the rain pelting the window glass and the thunder that made the walls shake, she felt her fear and anxiety growing. She remembered that fateful Friday morning, several years ago, when Northampton was hit by a massive flood over Easter weekend. She remembered things in flashes — the texture of her soaked clothes, the cold of the wind that stung her face, her grandmother screaming as they watched her grandfather get knocked off his feet by a rush of water and disappear beneath the muddy surface.

“This can’t be happening again”, Charlie thought, remembering when she finally saw her grandfather in his hospital bed, covered with a thermal blanket and his hair still wet. Even though he was okay, his smile couldn’t take away the terror she’d felt from almost losing Jamie, the man who had loved her unconditionally and taken her in when Deborah decided she didn't want to be a mother anymore.

— Charlie? — she heard Fernando ask.

When she tried to open her eyes, she was blinded by the lamp turning on. After blinking a few times, Charlie felt his warm hand on her shoulder, thumb brushing against the fabric of her t-shirt. His touch made her freeze for a few seconds, her mind taking a few seconds to remember that she wasn't alone. “He can't see me like this, he can't see me like this”, she thought.

— Are you okay, Charlie? — Fernando asked her, his hand gently pulling her, making her turn to the other side, meeting his worried expression — Why are you crying?

She blinked again, her eyes feeling wet. Charlie hadn't realized that she was crying, but she couldn't answer his question either. She started crying in earnest, deep, sharp sobs that made her gasp. All she could smell was the putrid smell of floodwater churning the earth and mixing with whatever was washing out of the storm drains. She felt like a little girl, afraid of the cold, the murky water, the thunder — afraid of losing the people she loved in the water again.

Suddenly the cold dissipated. The smell of floodwater was replaced by something fresh and familiar. The sound of thunder subsided, giving way to something quiet and steady, a rhythmic pulse.

— It's okay — Charlie heard Fernando whisper — Nothing's going to happen to you.

— But… The water is rising so fast. It’s going to flood again...

— It's okay, calm down. You are safe. I’ve got you, nena.

Her fingers closed around the fabric of his shirt, and Charlie let herself be held. With the weight of his arms around her, the painful memories of the flood became distant, both in space and time. It was as if in that moment, wrapped in his body heat and in the fresh, lingering scent of his cologne, she was finally protected from all of it — from the cold, the wet, the pain of the past. She was protected from the turmoil building inside her.

She gradually managed to calm down as Fernando stroked his hand gently up and down her back. With the soft, calming sound of his voice whispering in her ear, Charlie was finally able to fall asleep.

Daylight was streaming in through the crack in the curtain when she woke up, and rubbed her eyes. She'd slept terribly, courtesy of the awful dreams she’d had.

Charlie dreamed she was on the flooded bridge near the circuit with her grandfather. Jamie was determined to resolve the situation, especially after some kind of siren sounded through the city. Pleas for him not to leave her alone weren't enough to prevent him from jumping into the muddy water, then disappearing. She even tried to jump after him, but felt a pair of arms holding her tight, telling her that she "wasn't going anywhere".

— Good morning — she heard someone say.

When she turned her head Charlie noticed that she was still in Fernando's arms.

— Good morning — she replied, trying to disguise the nervousness in her voice.

— Feeling better?

— A little, yeah.

— That's good — Fernando said, running his hand over her head, seeming to smooth the strands of her hair — I was worried about you.

She stayed silent for a few seconds.

— Why?

— Because you had a panic attack, Charlie, and a big one.

Charlie shifted her gaze to the lamp, trying to avoid his eyes.

— Since when has this been happening? — he asked softly, his fingers brushing her bangs out of her eyes — Is it often? Does anyone know about this? Have you talked to anyone about this?

Something his rapid-fire questions made her uneasy. It was as if Charlie had allowed Fernando to see too much of her vulnerable side, which she didn’t typically show other people in the paddock. She put a lot of effort into making sure that all anyone saw was the smart, decisive, woman, and not the scared little girl she was at her core.

But, in her terror, she’d let the mask slip.

Sitting up, Charlie tried to think of something to say. Maybe she would lie, tell him she was sleepwalking or it was a side effect of some medication. Maybe she'd say he was crazy and that she'd slept soundly all night. Maybe she...

— Charlie, are you afraid of rain?

She looked over her shoulder at him.

— Why are you asking?

— Because you said everything was going to flood again last night. That the water was rising too fast.

Charlie looked down at her feet and imagined them submerged in muddy water.

— I'm not afraid of rain. — she whispered — I just don’t like storms. Or floods.

— Why?

— Because I saw my grandfather almost drown in some flood water when I was nine years old — Charlie said, her voice cracking — It had rained a lot the night before. To help keep the street from flooding, he teamed up with some of our neighbors to try to clear the storm drains. But, the river near our house breached its banks and he lost his balance in the strong current, and fell into the water and got swept away. He was carried a few hundred feet before he managed to stop himself.

She had discussed the incident with Hannah a long time ago, but part of her still struggled with similar situations, like at the Belgian Grand Prix in 2021. Charlie never knew how to thank Daniel Ricciardo for lending her his headphones and distracting her with silly stories as the rain pelted down the circuit during the hours-long red flag period.

— What? — he mumbled.

— They found him holding on to a lamp post and took him to A&E. He was fine, in the end. He had hypothermia and he needed a few stitches. He was very lucky, according to the doctors. But seeing him getting swept away was enough to make me hate storms from then on — she completed.

— Is that why you asked me not to leave this morning?

Charlie turned to face him, confused.

— I didn’t ask for…

— You did. I was going to go for a run at dawn and you asked me to stay, and said that it was dangerous. So, I stayed.

— Why?

— Because you needed me.

— I — Charlie started to say, but stopped herself. She hated to admit it, but she did need him. Fernando had been her safe haven the previous night, without even questioning her or teasing her about it. Heaving a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair — I appreciate you helping me, I really do. But you didn't have to give up your plans this morning on my account.

Fernando sat back down on the bed and put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

— I didn't give up any plans. It’s fine.

— I imagine you have better things to do than stay here with me.

— I don't mind being here with you. In fact, I'm glad you feel comfortable with me — Fernando said, making her turn her face towards him. Charlie felt her heart race in her chest, her eyes suddenly drawn to his mouth. Maybe she should kiss him.

“No, Charlotte”, she scolded herself.

— I think I'll go brush my teeth and get dressed — Charlie finally managed to say.

— Sure — Fernando replied — Then, shall we get breakfast?

— Yeah, okay — she said, smiling a little.

The two of them went downstairs and had breakfast, mostly in silence, something Charlie appreciated, especially with the jumble of thoughts inside her head, However, towards the end of the meal, the hotel owner approached their table, looking delighted to have a Formula 1 driver there.

— Vorrei ricevere te e la tua ragazza in modo più adeguato, ma purtroppo la situazione non è delle migliori. Mi scuso per questo — the man said, smiling. Looking at Fernando, she got the impression that he was blushing.

— Nessun problema, la camera è ottima, così come tutto il servizio.

Once they got back to their room, Charlie reviewed the previous week’s sim data from Stoffel, and Fernando studied an old race. Then, he asked Charlie if she minded if he had a quick video call with Alberto. She couldn't help but watch him as he jabbered in Spanish with his friend, eyes twinkling as Alberto showed him something.

— Déjame mostrarle esto a ella, un segundo — Fernando said, showing her some drawings of some caps on his iPad — Charlie, look at this and tell me what you think.

She smiled, glancing at the screen.

— Those are nice.

— Which one do you like best?

Charlie looked at the iPad again. Both designs were nice, but there was something about the camouflage pattern that reminded her of photos at her grandparents’ house from Jamie’s RAF days.

— This one — she said, pointing to the orange camouflage model.

— Great, thank you very much — Fernando replied, sitting back down on the bed — A ella le gusta el camuflaje, sigamos con ese, ¿de acuerdo?

They were returning to the hotel after lunch when Fernando received a call from Mike, confirming that the race had been cancelled. It wasn’t a surprise, especially after Nyck De Vries had messaged the drivers' Whatsapp group and said he was trapped in a village near Faenza, unable to reach Imola.

However, if getting there was a problem, leaving there would be too, and Charlie found that out the hard way in the afternoon. She sent a message to Sophie, the team’s travel specialist, to ask about her return to the UK. She got a response hours later, while she was watching the first episode of LOST with Fernando — he’d insisted, telling her that it was “the best series in the world”.

— Great, just what I needed — she mumbled, setting her phone in her lap.

— What’s wrong? — Fernando asked.

— Sophie said that the flights leaving from Bologna are all booked and that the best option right now is if I go to Milan and catch a connection in Frankfurt.

— Sounds reasonable — the driver said. Charlie looked back at him. He was sitting against the headboard.

— Of course it seems reasonable to you, you have a car. I don’t.

— I can take you — he replied quietly.

— The flight isn’t until tomorrow.

— And?

— You'll be leaving later today, right?

— I can stay one more night, no problem.

Charlie stared at him.

— You can?

— Of course.

— But, why?

— Because I want to, Charlie — he replied, putting one arm behind his head as he flashed one of his teasing smiles.

— That’s not an answer.

Fernando kept looking at her, seeming thoughtful, until he let out a sigh.

— Look, I’m not going to leave you alone here. What if you have some sort of trouble, and without knowing a word of Italian...

— I know some Italian, Fernando.

— Knowing how to order a spaghetti alla carbonara and water isn't knowing how to speak Italian.

— But it's something.

He huffed, sitting up in bed.

— It's not enough, and that’s not the point.

— And what is the point, exactly?

— The point is, have you forgotten what happened last time?

She blinked.

— You mean… In Jerez?

— Yes. The worst almost happened there — Fernando stopped for a few seconds — And I would never be able to forgive myself if something bad happened to you.

They remained silent for a few seconds, their eyes fixed on each other, as if searching for the right words. Charlie tried to find the courage within herself to finally ask the question that had been tormenting her for months.

— Why do you care so much about me?

Running a hand through his hair, Fernando sighed.

— Because I like you, Charlie — he said.

— Do you? But, like, do you like me as a co-worker? As a friend? You know we're far from...

— I like you as the beautiful woman you are — he said, making her heart skip a beat — I like you as the smart, extraordinary woman you are. I just like you.

— But, I thought…

— I thought I had made it clear how I feel about you in Miami.

— What, when you said I was a thorn in your side?

— When I got my hands under your skirt and squeezed your ass while you were kissing me — he smiled — By the way, you should wear that skirt more often, your legs are beautiful.

Charlie couldn't believe what she was hearing.

— Are you flirting with me? — she asked, almost naively.

— Well, you could say that. Though I’d rather be doing other things with you — he said, moving closer to her — Much more interesting things.

— And why aren't you?

— Because you haven’t asked.

A tingle raced over her skin.

— And what do I have to say?

Fernando smirked as he took one of Charlie's hands in his, examining the skin carefully before looking into her eyes.

— Just say 'please, Fer’ — he said, placing a gentle kiss on her fingers — And I'll do anything you want.

Charlie's mind was short-circuiting. Her heart was pounding.

Before she realized what she was saying, the words had already left her mouth.

— If you're going to kiss me, do it properly.

— Which are the magic words?

Charlie smiled.

— Please, Fer.

— Much better, nena — Fernando murmured, leaning gently toward her, his lips soft and warm against hers.

In Miami, their kiss had been feverish and desperate, but this one was just the opposite. There was no rush, there was no anger, there was no desire to prove the other wrong, but it was not lacking in any passion. Charlie felt Fernando's fingers slide through her hair as he guided her moves, his tongue carefully tasting her, as if he wanted to etch what she tasted like into her memory. However, she didn't have to. She remembered exactly what he tasted like.

"Sweet, salty, sour", Charlie thought, as her hands slid down his chest to the hem of his shirt. Her unsubtle hint made Fernando move back a little, throwing the shirt to some corner of the room. Then it was his turn to do the same to her, leaving her only wearing her cotton bralette.

— Hermosa — he whispered breathlessly, his hands cupping her face as he brushed his lips over hers — Tan hermosa, nena. La más hermosa.

Charlie had no idea what Fernando was saying but it excited her. She didn't know what it was about his voice that made whatever he was saying sound delicious, sublime. She pulled his body against hers and kissed him hard, because she was sure there was no better answer than that, because it was impossible to put everything she was feeling into words

Desire, happiness, relief, excitement; everything mingling wonderfully just below her navel.

Fernando leaned over her, making Charlie lie down on the mattress. She closed her eyes, and his lips began to move down her skin, kissing and nibbling, as his hands worked to get rid of her pants and underwear. The feel of the cool air against her pussy, completely wet already, made her gasp.

— Are you okay? — Fernando whispered, making her open her eyes. He was just below her sternum, the stubble on his chin brushing softly against her skin. She felt those tingles again, not from cold, but from arousal.

— Yeah, just… It's cold.

He flashed a smile, his eyes darkening with desire.

— It's okay, I'll warm you up — Fernando replied, giving her a mischievous smile before kissing the spot just above her navel. Then, he continued his trek downward.

Charlie felt butterflies in her stomach as she felt Fernando's palms on her thighs, spreading her legs further so he could have access to her pussy. She lifted herself up on her elbows and saw him staring between her legs before he raised his eyes to look at her.

— You're soaking wet, nena — he said, softly — Is this all for me?

— Yes — Charlie murmured, as she felt his fingers brush lightly over her pussy, as if he wanted to become familiar with every spot, every fold. She bit down on her lower lip and felt her legs tensing.

— I haven't even started — Fernando whispered with a smile.

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. If he hadn't even started and Charlie was already like that, she couldn't imagine what would become of her when Fernando actually started to touch her.

— What are you waiting for? — she asked, as she felt his thumb slide easily across her labia.

— Calm down — Fernando said — What an impatient little thing you are. I'll give you what you want, don't worry. But first, I want to play a little. Can I?

— Of course…

— Then… Let's play, nena. — he murmured, before plunging between her legs, attacking her clit with his tongue.

Charlie's head fell back, her elbows collapsing under the warm wave that coursed through her body. Her eyes closed and her body tensed, the air trapped in her lungs. Then, Fernando's tongue found a more sensitive spot and she gasped, loud enough for him to chuckle. The vibration had Charlie's fingers gripping the duvet beneath her in an attempt to keep still.

It didn't take much for her to feel like she was at her limit already, her eyes shut tightly as he licked and teased her vulva. Despite not remembering being that sensitive before, there was something about the way that Fernando stimulated her that made the sensations more potent, a certainty growing within her: he definitely knew how to use his tongue, exactly as she imagined when she noticed it peeking out of the corner of his mouth while he was focused on some activity.

— What a well-behaved girl you are — Fernando said quietly, as he used his thumb to draw circles over her clit. It was difficult, but she opened her eyes and found him with his mouth glistening with her lubrication, his eyes dark with desire — I expected a bigger challenge coming from you...

— Fernando — Charlie whispered, as he placed kisses on the inside of her thigh, his beard brushing the sensitive skin.

— Come on, nena, tell me what you want — he said, the words drawn out in his delicious accent — Tell me and I'll give it to you.

— I want you.

— But you have me — Fernando replied, bending down slightly and giving her pussy a lick. The sudden stimulus made her let out a groan, her nails digging into her palms — I'm here to do whatever you want. Just ask me.

It took Charlie's mind a few seconds to form a coherent sentence. She didn't really know what she wanted. She wanted everything and nothing, all at once. She wanted Fernando to make her scream, but also to just stay there with her, kissing her and looking at her with his beautiful eyes.

— Make me come — she said — Please, Fer.

He smiled.

— Good girl — Fernando said. He repositioned himself on the bed, his hands resting on her hips as a way to keep her still, he started moving his tongue against her clit relentlessly.

Charlie was sure she was going to melt. She held his wrists and arched her spine with each lick, feeling like a New Year's firecracker, rising higher and higher into the sky in anticipation of the impending explosion. It was delicious and maddening, all at once. But, if she was going to be mad, let the reason be that man whose head was between her legs.

Charlie opened her eyes slightly, finding Fernando staring at her, almost as if he was intoxicated by the sight of her, squirming in the pleasure that he was giving her, and that only he could give her. And it was in that split second that the sky inside her lit up, the explosion of pleasure causing Charlie to squeal loudly, much to Fernando's delight.

— That's it — he murmured, as he moved one of his fingers over her clit, trying to prolong her pleasure as long as possible as her muscles tensed uncontrollably — That's my girl…

If he said anything after that, Charlie didn't hear it. Her mind was completely taken over by the pleasure that made her toes curl and her spine arch. It was delicious, sublime, unlike anything she had ever experienced. She could only moan, loud enough for everyone in Imola to hear.

Then, the sensation began to slowly dissipate. She was trying to catch her breath when she felt something warm near her navel. Then between her breasts and then on her neck. Charlie only figured out what it was when she finally felt it on her lips.

Fernando.

He was kissing her gently, the taste of his own pleasure on her tongue, making it all that much more erotic. “How could I resist you?” Charlie wondered, as she threaded her fingers through Fernando’s hair, pulling him towards her.

— Are you okay? — Fernando asked softly, brushing his nose against hers.

— Yeah — she said, in a thin voice. He smiled at her.

— You're beautiful, you know that? — Fernando said, bringing one of his hands to her face, brushing a few strands of hair away. She giggled and pulled him closer to kiss her with a little more intensity, her nails scraping down the back of his neck. As she moved her hips beneath him, Fernando smiled against her mouth.

— You want more?

— Yes, Fer — she replied, nibbling on his lower lip.

— What do you want?

It was a silly question, especially when Charlie was writhing under his body, still very obviously aroused. Sliding her hands to Fernando's face, she ran her tongue over her lips, her thumb lightly touching the scar at the corner of his mouth.

— I want you to fuck me.

He smiled, one hand resting on her waist.

— I do too, Charlie. It's what I want most now — Fernando replied, but there was an unpleasant pause in his sentence.

— But?

— I need to see if I have a condom.

Charlie blinked. She was a bit surprised by his concern, but in a way, it made sense. The last thing Fernando probably wanted in life was children, especially with a career as dangerous as his, and he had to take precautions.

— No problem — she replied — I have some.

— You do? — he asked, raising an eyebrow.

— Yeah, in my bag.

— Why?

— To use, duh — Charlie said — I like to be prepared.

— Are you always prepared to have sex?

— Maybe, but they’re of no use when the guy on top of me would rather ask stupid questions than fuck me — she said, some irritation creeping into her voice. Fernando smiled mischievously.

— You really are an impatient little thing — he murmured, giving her a delicate peck on the lips — Wait here.

He got up and went to Charlie’s bag, finding the two red foil packets quickly. She sat up and peeled off the bralette she was still wearing, running a hand over the marks the fabric had made on her skin. A shift in the mattress made Charlie look over to Fernando as he sat back down, already naked, and started rolling the condom over his shaft. However, instead of focusing on what he was doing, her eyes were drawn to the tattoo between his shoulder blades. It was the first time she had seen it up close and she couldn’t resist the urge to lean over to get a better look.

— A samurai? — Charlie murmured, his finger tracing over one of the dark lines that formed the sword. Seeing his skin erupt with goosebumps at her touch made her smile.

— Yes — Fernando replied, as her finger slowly followed the line of the banner that went up his neck, kanji characters in red highlighted against the dark ink — It is a symbol of Bushido, a philosophy that I study, which is based on Japanese samurai and their code of conduct. To many people, it is very similar to Western chivalry, however, I believe it is closer to our concept of honor in battle.

— It's really pretty — she said, placing her hands on his shoulder and bringing her face closer to his — Even though you sound like a nerd talking about it.

Fernando turned his head in Charlie's direction, giving her a small smile.

— A nerd, huh?

— Yes, a nerd. The biggest nerd in the world.

Fernando placed a hand on her face, tenderly.

— We’ll see, nena — he said, before repositioning himself on the bed, with his back against the wooden headboard, one hand holding his cock, stroking himself to full erectness once more. The vision made a warm wave go over her skin — Come here.

Charlie smiled and crawled towards him. She threw one leg over Fernando’s body, leaning on his shoulders and positioning herself above his dick. A shiver ran through her body as she felt him brush the head of his cock lightly against her clit, teasing her. Meeting his eyes, anticipation coursed through her body in hot waves.

— Can I? — she asked quietly.

— Yes, nena.

She lowered her hips, feeling his cock enter her slowly. The sensation caused a long sigh to escape her lips, while Fernando let out a low growl, throwing his head against the headboard. Once she was fully seated, Charlie took a second to breathe and process the sensations coursing through her body as she stretched around him. The pressure and heat that filled her felt like so much all at once and, in a way, not enough.

It was electric. Sweet. Maddening.

— All good? — he asked, his voice strained.

Charlie nodded as Fernando's hands landed on her hips, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, his eyes locked in hers, trying to concentrate on not getting lost in the sensation himself. Seeing him like that, enraptured by her body, by her touch, by her warmth, was delicious, and she wanted more.

Lifting her hips slightly, she felt the driver's thumbs press into her skin, a hiss escaping his lips. Charlie smiled, bringing her face closer to his.

— All this for me? — she asked, her voice teasing.

— Always for you, nena — Fernando replied, before kissing her slowly as he pulled her down again.

It wasn't long before she picked up the pace, going up and down his cock as moans filled the room. With her forehead close to his, she could see in his expression that Fernando was enjoying himself, his lips half-open as Charlie bounced on his dick. And that feeling of being the one pleasuring him was something amazing, powerful.

— You're so good to me, so good — Fernando murmured, his face against hers, his hands on her ass to try and control Charlie’s pace. With her hands in his hair, she allowed herself to be guided by him, feeling the bubble of pleasure rise below her navel. His movement was precise, making her clit rub against his pubic bone.

— My God — she moaned, as a warm wave spreaded through her body — Fuck, yes, just like that…

— So you like this? — he asked in a low tone, his lips brushing hers — You like to have my cock inside as I play with your clit?

— Mhm — Charlie nodded, as her nails scraped his scalp, as she could get him to get closer to her, even closer. As if they could become one in that bed, in that room, in that city. And there was nothing she wanted more than that.

And then, Fernando stopped.

A protest escaped Charlie's lips, her hips trying to move under his hands to no avail.

— Fer — she whimpered, her face close to his.

— Lay down on the bed, nena — the driver practically ordered, causing a shiver of excitement to run across her skin. Climbing off of him, Charlie didn't have time to feel uncomfortable with the emptiness without his dick inside her before he pulled her against his body, her back flush against his chest. With one of his arms wrapped around her torso, a sigh of pleasure escaped her lips when Fernando entered her again.

His pace was slow and provocative, his thrusts were long and accompanied by kisses and nibbles on the neck. Taking his hands to the arm that wrapped around her waist, Charlie felt like putty in Fernando's hands, completely at the mercy of his desire.

— Is that what you wanted? — he whispered against her skin — Was this what you were imagining when you saw me on the balcony that day?

A low gasp escaped her throat as she felt his fingers pinch her nipple lightly, her body tensing even more. He was going to drive her crazy, she was absolutely sure of that.

— You can't imagine how much I enjoyed seeing you there, watching me, devouring me with those beautiful eyes of yours — Fernando continued, each thrust eliciting a loud moan from Charlie's throat — Well, not just your eyes. I always thought you were beautiful, Charlotte. So beautiful…

— Fer — she moaned, throwing her head against his shoulder, her entire body begging for more of him.

— Your pussy is so soft, so warm, so wet, perfect for my cock — Fernando continued, while his hand squeezed her left breast — I wish you could see how well you take me. Next time, I'll fuck you in front of a mirror, so you'll understand what I mean.

Charlie groaned. She had completely forgotten every word in the English language other than ‘Fer’, because it was the only thing she wanted at that moment, in that bed. Him, only him, thrusting hard against her pussy as his hand massaged her breasts, pinching the nipples until they became rock hard.

And, when she thought that moment couldn't get any better, Charlie felt his fingers reach her clit. A whimper escaped her lips, the muscles in her legs tensing more and more.

— Are you going to come for me, nena? — he asked, not waiting for an answer to move his fingers even faster — Come for me then, show me how good I make you feel.

Resting her hands on his arm, Charlie continued to move her hips against his fingers, desperately chasing her release. And then, without warning, it arrived.

— Fuck!

The orgasm hit her like a sudden wave. As she gasped, her body arching forward involuntarily. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her vision had gone completely black as she shut her eyes tightly. There was only pleasure, pure and raw, capable of throwing a person out of space-time, into a state of complete ecstasy.

— ¡Coño, Charlotte! — Fernando grunted from behind her. Her reaching her orgasm must have pulled him along into his. She wanted to open her eyes and turn back in order to see him reach his own climax, releasing himself into the condom, and enjoying the expression of pleasure on his face, but Charlie was too spent.

She allowed her body to relax into his, nestling her head in the crook of Fernando's neck, trying to concentrate on her own breathing, which was all she heard until Fernando until the driver started mumbling things she didn’t understand in Spanish against her neck. She didn’t have the energy to ask what he was saying.

— Eres la mujer que me volverá loco, nena — he said softly, as he caressed her torso, holding her against his body — Y te dejaré hacer eso. Vuélveme loco, por favor. No te arrepentirás de esto, te lo prometo.

They spent about ten minutes, as far as Charlie could tell from the clock on the nightstand, in the same position, still enjoined, neither of them wanting to move. Charlie thought that there was something deeply intimate about having him going gradually softer inside of her. She’d never done this with any other men she’d been with. But to her surprise, it made her feel comfortable. Safe, even. It was a mystery to her why she’d resisted this for so long.

Fernando pressed one final, soft kiss to her temple before making a move to get up.

— Stay here — he said, taking his dick out of her and getting up. She squeezed her thighs together to try to get rid of the strange emptiness that she felt without Fernando's cock inside her. “This feels awful”, she concluded, shifting to look up at the bedroom ceiling.

The sound of running water and footsteps made her look toward the bathroom door, where Fernando was walking back to the bed. He’d put his underwear back on and had a washcloth in one hand. He sat on the edge of the bed and put a hand on her knee.

— Can I clean you up?

Charlie blinked, not realizing what he was asking for a moment. Then, she smiled.

— Oh, yeah, yes, you can — she said, opening her legs slightly.

Fernando brushed the damp part of the cloth against her inner thighs, carefully cleaning the remnants of sex from her skin. When he brushed the fabric against her pussy, Charlie hissed.

— Sensitive? — he asked, pulling his hand away.

— Yeah, a little.

— Okay, I'll be careful — Fernando said, going back to his ministrations, the gentle touch in stark contrast to the way he touched her that had made Charlie come earlier.

He stood up again, leaving Charlie alone again, but returned holding her discarded panties, and a clean t-shirt.

— I thought you’d want to put something on… To wear to bed, you know.

Charlie stared at the clothes in his hand.

— Yes, thank you.

She took them and slipped the clothes on, only stopping when she realized that the t-shirt Fernando had given her was far too big for her. She looked down and saw a colorful logo for Kimoa, the clothing company he’d started.

Fernando smiled at her, clearly satisfied with himself.

— Did you give me one of your t-shirts?

— Yes. Is that a problem? — he asked as he grabbed a bottle of water.

— No, but I have some in my suitcase…

— But you look prettier wearing mine — Fernando replied, approaching the bed — Water?

She accepted the bottle and opened it, taking a sip as he sat back down on the bed.

— Thanks — Charlie said, handing the bottle back to him. He placed it on the bedside table and laid down on the pillow next to her, resting his hand on her back.

— Come here — he whispered.

— Why?

— Because I want to cuddle.

Charlie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

— Since when are you such a romantic?

— Since always.

— You never struck me as the romantic type.

— But, I am. And I want to show you.

She felt her heart pounding heavily inside her chest.

— Fernando…

— Come here, nena. Please.

Sliding down onto the duvet, Charlie lay down beside him, allowing him to envelop her body in a firm embrace as his lips placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. Surrounded by the warmth that emanated from Fernando's body and feeling his fingers lightly caressing her skin, she fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

She woke up with something warm touching her face gently, almost carefully. When she opened her eyes, Charlie saw his eyes, the soft brown blending with the green, as if they were the very image of spring, full of life and hope. “Maybe this is why he looks so good in British racing green”, she thought.

— Good morning, Charlie — Fernando said softly.

— Good morning, Fer.

— Did you sleep well?

— Yeah, like a log — she replied, smiling — And you?

— Yeah, for a while. But I woke up at dawn with the rain and couldn't sleep anymore.

— Why?

— I was afraid the thunder would wake you up and scare you.

Charlie couldn't hide her surprise.

— I didn't think you cared about me that much.

Fernando placed his hand on her cheek.

— But, I do. More than you can imagine.

Placing her hand over his, Charlie couldn't help but feel butterflies fluttering in her stomach. The peace and security he made her feel was strange. It was a good kind of strange, though. She moved closer to him and let Fernando embrace her. They snuggled for a bit longer, the serenity of the moment interrupted when Charlie’s phone rang, Sophie’s name flashing across the screen. The woman gave her the details of her flight from Milan, and she hung up with a sigh.

— What’s wrong?

— Sophie said that I have to be in Milan two hours before the flight, but that I might encounter problems on the road and I should leave early.

— Do you want to leave soon? We can pack up, eat something, and leave.

— Is that what you want to do?

Fernando laughed.

— You're the one with a flight to catch, not me.

Charlie shook her head.

— Okay, we can do that.

The two got up, showered — together, at his insistence — and got dressed. After packing their bags, they had breakfast together and checked out. Charlie tried to thank the staff in Italian that Fernando deemed “terrible”. After putting their bags in the car, they left Imola on the E45 toward northern Italy.

The five-hour trip was peaceful and enjoyable. Charlie and Fernando talked about a lot of things, including how he had started racing when he was three after his father had adapted a kart for his sister Lorena, who was eight at the time, decided she didn’t want to use it.

— I still have the kart today — he said, — It's in Oviedo, in my museum.

— You have a museum?

— Yeah, I decided to open one after Flavio gave me my 2005 car as a gift for winning the championship. I tried to store it in my garage, but with everyone wanting to see it, I thought I'd better create somewhere to display everything related to my career. There’s even a kart track.

— Let me guess, you designed the track layout.

— I did — Fernando smiled, glancing at Charlie — I put all my favorite corners in it. By the way, I think you would like to drive there, since you like karting so much.

— I like karting, but I’m not that good of a driver. I’m not very quick.

— I can give you lessons if you like. I like to think that I know a thing or two about racing.

Charlie rolled her eyes, laughing.

— It would be an honor — she said, sarcastically.

They arrived at the airport just under two hours before her flight, which was impressive considering the traffic on the highway, the detours caused by the rain, and the rather long stop in Verona for lunch. As Charlie got out and got her bags, Fernando nervously ran a hand through his hair.

— I think this is my stop — Charlie said, putting great effort into trying to sound calm.

— Yeah, I guess so.

— Yeah…

— Do you need help with your things?

— No, I can get it — she replied, giving him a small smile.

— Oh. Okay, then.

Silence hung over them. Charlie didn’t know what to say. Did she say goodbye and leave without another word? Did she give him a hug and wish him a safe drive home?

“For God's sake, Charlotte, he made you come twice last night. Say something”, she thought.

— Well, I guess I'll see you soon. Monaco, right?

— Yes, Monaco — Fernando replied, looking intently into her eyes.

More silence.

— This is ridiculous, right? — she whispered, a little embarrassed.

— Well, it's different, it's not ridiculous — the driver replied, giving a little smile — You will never be ridiculous to me.

Charlie looked at him again, realizing how much things had changed between them. They definitely weren't enemies, let alone rivals. However, they had stopped being just co-workers a long time ago.

She could contemplate whatever they were on the flight home.

— Can I kiss you? — Fernando asked.

— You can — Charlie replied, smiling.

He brought his face close to hers, placing a hand on her cheek. Then their lips touched lightly, almost as if he was afraid of breaking her. A few seconds later, he pulled away, but stayed close enough so that their noses were still touching.

— Bye, nena. I’ll miss you.

— I’ll miss you too — Charlie said, before giving him another peck on the cheek and shutting the car door.

As she walked into the terminal, pulling her suitcase behind her, her heart felt light enough to carry her all the way back to Birmingham, no airplane required.

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wendynerdwrites · 6 years

Conversation

Meta Repost: A Study in Adaptation and "Empowerment"

Book!Sansa:

Often spouts off random historical and literary trivia, referencing various Westeros myths, historical events, and figures such as Queen Naerys, Aemon the Dragonknight, the twin knights Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk, Baelor the Blessed and his trials walking through the snake pit, the lineage of House Tyrell and how it traces back to Garth Greenhand, the Arryn family tree, Florian and Jonquil, and Jenny of the Oldstones and Prince Duncan. Has an encyclopedic knowledge of every house and sigil in Westeros. Can also read and write better than her much older brothers, play two instruments, and eventually gets to the point where she can sniff out little plots of Littlefinger's.

Show!Sansa:

Thinks "shift" is the rude word for dung. Doesn't appear to have any actual interests or skills beyond sewing (sometimes), eating lemoncakes, and fawning over boys.

Book!Sansa:

Can identify Barristan Selmy and Renly Baratheon on sight, even when she's never met them before.

Show!Sansa:

Doesn't even recognize the man whose life she saved, and doesn't pick up on the fact that Tyrion and Shae know each other despite their obvious signals.

Book!Sansa:

Carefully inspects a secret message she gets for signs of a trap, carries a knife with her to a clandestine meeting and threatens the person there just in case it is. Spends months plotting a potential escape, even trying a different route independent of her former plans when her co-conspirator is evasive and slow to act. Also refuses to speak to any of her maids, who she knows to be spies immediately. By Joffrey's wedding, though she doesn't know about the poison, she does know she's meant to escape and already has things packed. She immediately realizes who was behind the poison and how it was transmitted through her hairnet, which she knew would play a part in her escape without being aware of the poison plot. Does not trust her "rescuer" at all, refusing the food he offers her and confronting him on his lies, constantly trying to work out what he's up to.

Show!Sansa:

Just sort of sits around and cries a lot without any sort of active involvement in insuring her escape. Trusts Littlefinger even though there's no reason to because he says he's her friend. Just sort of randomly gets accosted by Dontos months later in a garden and accepts his random and suspicious gift without any hesitation or questions asked. Later happily walks into the home of the family that killed hers for "revenge" without any knowledge of what the actual plan is, what the situation is, or means to protect herself or take action in case things go wrong. Is eager to bond with Tyrion at first because he promised he would never hurt her (a promise Joffrey made her before almost verbatim), even kneeling to him at once with little prompting. Also blindly trusts this random maid for no reason. And is totally okay with believing Ramsay has "already fallen for her" with no question as to how she's supposed to handle things if he hasn't. Also trusts the broken down Theon (whom she has already verbally abused) with an errand integral to her escape from Winterfell. And just blindly offers up her secret identity (while being wanted for regicide) to a bunch of strangers after having been betrayed repeatedly.

Book!Sansa:

Sees Lancel Lannister, a young man who taunted her and took active part in her abuse, bleeding on the floor from a terrible wound, and makes sure he sees a maester, just in time to save his life.

Show!Sansa:

Looks at the physically and psychologically tortured and mutilated Theon Greyjoy, who can barely walk or speak properly anymore, and tells him that she doesn't care what Ramsay does to him and later tells him that she'd do everything Ramsay did to him if she could.

Book!Sansa:

Fights off Lysa Arryn when she tries to kill her by grabbing her by the hair and pulling herself from her mad aunt's grip.

Show!Sansa:

Just cries and fidgets helplessly as she is abused even more and is utterly helpless until Petyr comes to save her.

Book!Sansa:

Risks herself to save Dontos, talks Joffrey out of running down a beggar woman and instead convinces him to throw her a coin because she knows it would be better if he appeared gentler. Listens to Cersei preach about how fear is the only way to rule and, even after all the terror she's experienced and all the awful people she's seen rise to power through violence and fear, reflects internally that love is definitely, surely the better path to loyalty and devotion and vows that if/when she is queen, she will make the people love her.

Show!Sansa:

Is so oblivious that she doesn't understand what poverty is and has to have it explained to her. Upon learning that Theon didn't kill her brothers and instead killed two farm boys, doesn't seem to give a shit that two other innocent children were still fucking murdered.

Book!Sansa:

Is often threatened and taunted by Sandor Clegane The Hound and always responds with kindness, courtesy, and sympathy. When he responds to a compliment upon their first private interaction by taunting her, telling her a violent story, and belittling her, she is sweet and kind. She stays this way even after he threatens her life. Then she includes him in her prayers. When he breaks into her room, forces her onto a bed, holds a knife to her throat, and demands a "song", she responds with a kind and soothing hymn that calms him, reminds him that there is goodness in the world, and gets him to back off. Eventually this helps inspire him to change his life entirely and pursue a path of peace and public service.

Show!Sansa:

Just acts generally freaked out by the Hound, even though his threats are FAR less explicit and only ever accompanied by well-meaning advice. Is not sexually assaulted by him the night of the Blackwater, just sort of talks to him and rejects his offer to help her escape. There is no sign that she thinks of him again.

Book!Sansa:

Is offered a marriage to Willas Tyrell, heir to Highgarden. While she is attracted to Loras and has a sort of schoolgirl crush, she notes that he doesn't care for her too much. Upon being told Loras is off the table, accepts this without a second thought and turns her thoughts to the scholarly, disabled, older Willas, whom she has never met. She eagerly awaits and fantasizes about him because it is her path out of King's Landing and her new friend Margaery assures her that he is kind and intelligent. Knows him to be disabled, and actively thinks about how she won't care if he's fat or unattractive like his father. She still sees him as her rescuer, a man she is eager to marry despite his disability, and decides she'll make him love her and give him sons. Upon having the marriage to Tyrion sprung on her (after she's in the damn dress, when she is dragged to the sept and told she's going to get married and raped whether she likes it or not), she looks at his disfigurements and acknowledges that he is not so bad as the rest, and notes that he was kind to her once, even while actively insisting she just doesn't want to marry a Lannister (any Lannister, regardless of appearance). Still manages to hold back her tears for fucking HOURS and hold her resolve through numerous threats, sexual assaults, and humiliations that happen throughout the day. Refuses to kneel at first because she's just so fucking sick of being expected to just take the cavalcade of abuse, but eventually does kneel and kiss her husband because she feels bad about people laughing at him. Feels active pity for him (even after he molests her, even after she finds out her mother and brother were killed by one of his family's plots, even though she doesn't trust him), despite her constant fear of him raping her and her ongoing trauma, all while withholding her secrets and still pursuing escape.

Show!Sansa:

Is totally into marrying Loras, constantly waxing on about how hot he is even after she's alerted to the Tyrion marriage weeks ahead of time. Seems far more interested in his pretty hair and nice ass than his personality or getting the fuck out of King's Landing (something that only occurs to her when Margaery brings it up weeks later. It never occurs to Sansa because she's too busy staring longingly at Loras's pretty hair to consider this). Mulls on about the contrast in her suitors' physical appearance, despite Loras's repeat displays of a complete lack of interest (which she never seems to recognize). Upon learning of the new marriage arrangement, spends hours crying as she gazes at Loras. Kneels immediately at the wedding when prompted, then later totally starts confiding in and bonding with Tyrion (even after learning of the Red Wedding, she tells him the real reason she goes to the Godswood for no fucking reason).

Book!Sansa:

Notices hostilities from Loras at once. Upon learning the Tyrells want her for political purposes, just accepts this and decides to make the most of it. Highgarden is still a lovely place, she'd be safe, and she can make Willas love her even if he only cares about her claim right now.

Show!Sansa:

Never notices how uninterested Loras is and talks about how she "feels like she is in a dream" even as Loras is looking around with an "EWWWW! GIRLS!!!" face.

Book!Sansa:

Cares for the sickly, disabled Robin Arryn all while firmly instilling some (grievously needed) boundaries upon him, managing at thirteen to be twenty times the mother thirty-something Lysa Arryn was. Even manages to get the epileptic, panic-attack prone kid across a narrow mountain path a mile into the air beset by winds as she talks him down from an attack. Is the only one who can control him, and is adored by everyone in the Vale for it.

Show!Sansa:

Never takes responsibility for anyone, never really charms anyone, is totally content to just leave her cousin with some people she doesn't trust to set off to wherever the man in her life wants her to go (even without knowing where that is).

Book!Sansa:

Manages to get some of Littlefinger's plans out of him, and learns of his means of accomplishing his goals. Keeps all of these things in mind constantly and notes subtle facial ticks and movements he makes when he is wearing his "Littlefinger" mask and playing people.

Show!Sansa:

Just sort of takes his word for it when he says she should marry Ramsay for "vengeance" without asking for specifications as to how. Later is willing to accept the plan B of just "making Ramsay hers" even though he's a fucking Bolton and that doesn't really clear up how this is supposed to lead to vengeance. She takes Littlefinger's word for it that Ramsay has fallen for her. Is totally okay with being left in the den of her enemies without any means of protection.

Book!Sansa:

Charms and manipulates people she needs with subtle hints of snark. Uses this to not only occasionally talk Joffrey out of violence, but later starts seducing Harry the Heir, acknowledging that she needs him to like her even if she doesn't like him.

Show!Sansa:

Openly antagonizes Ramsay when she even bothers to interact with him, showing no sign of trying to "make him hers" or confirm that he's fallen for her. Continues to taunt her rapist and abuser even after he's revealed how dangerous and temperamental he is.

Book!Sansa:

Knows immediately that Marillion is a creep, that Lyn Corbray is a fucking scumbag, that Harry the heir is a douche.

Show!Sansa:

Can't even realize how much of a psycho Ramsay is even after he parades his torture victim around, doesn't realize Loras isn't into her, doesn't realize that maybe the mutilated, brainwashed, obsessively obedient and cowed Theon might not be the best person to trust with her one means of escape from his master.

Book!Sansa:

Actively forces herself to think as her alternate identity "Alayne", purposely picks clothes that will disguise her better, thinks up little details to add to her character, and tries to be careful around people who might recognize her, like Bronze Yohn Royce.

Show!Sansa:

Can't even think to cover her distinctive red hair when walking out in the open. Later just decides a dye job is enough to hide herself even after she's dispensed with the false identity. Travels out in the open and greets people as Sansa Stark even though SHE IS STILL WANTED FOR FUCKING REGICIDE.

Book!Sansa:

Doesn't really trust anyone. The last person she trusts is a man whose life she saves (who turns out to just be acting on Littlefinger's orders). After that, no one, though she still tries to reach out and make friends.

Show!Sansa:

Randomly trusts this random old lady with a dumb plan, walks into the dark Bolton kennels at Myranda's bidding, then lets her bathe her, reveals her secret identity to strangers in the Vale, trusts Theon with the candle plot. But either dismisses or insults almost everyone she encounters.

Book!Sansa:

Intends to go into the North with an army and proclaim her rights to Winterfell.

Show!Sansa:

Let's Littlefinger lead her all the way to Moat Caillin without a word about where they're heading. When she finds out they're heading to the Bolton-controlled Winterfell, agrees to go with only a small group of guards (despite the price on her head and the war torn area), and is later way too cool with letting Littlefinger ditch her for King's Landing without even leaving the guards. Is ready to just rely on Stannis winning and just handing over Wardenship of the North, even though none of these things are assured.

Book!Sansa:

Doesn't voice all of her thoughts to anyone, particularly regarding her loyalties. Twice she tries to warn Margaery away from marrying him. The first time when there is a cover of singing and tons of pressure. A second time without prompting or pressure, purely out of the goodness of her heart, and only when she is riding out in the middle of the Kingswood with Margaery, where she is far more assured of privacy. Takes a similar route with Dontos, only meeting him in the godswood.

Show!Sansa:

Will openly talk about hating Joffrey to a maid hired by the Lannisters right smack dab in the middle of the Red Keep.

Book!Sansa:

Carries a dinner knife with her to a clandestine meeting just in case it is a trap, even threatening to stab a potential attacker. Makes frequent trips at night to meet with her ally, using religious fervor and prayer as an alibi to the point where she spends hours upon hours during the day praying in the sept to reinforce this show of piety. It fools everyone, including her usually perceptive husband who expresses an interest in getting to know her. Even after she's escaped and she's accused of regicide, people talk about how pious she was.

Show!Sansa:

Grabs a corkscrew and instead of using it as a weapon (or grabbing a knife from her food tray) against her rapist (who likely sleeps next to her after he's done raping her), uses it to.... pick a lock? And then just walks out in broad daylight in front of her rapist's men, expecting not to be caught. This works until it doesn't.

Book!Sansa:

As of the latest installment, is making close friends, has figured out a way to draw all the power players in the Vale to the same location, is charming Harry the Heir and all the Vale lords, eating lemon cakes, dancing, eavesdropping on Littlefinger's conversations, and caring for a sick kid.

Show!Sansa:

As of the latest installment, is (kind of?) rescued by a man when he kills her husband's mistress, grabs her, and they jump off a wall. This is after weeks of being locked in a room where she is raped and beaten nightly and spending some time in a tower.

Book!Sansa:

All this happens ages 11-13

Show!Sansa:

All this happens ages 13-15.

Game of Thrones defenders and creators:

The Sansa of the show is smarter, stronger, more likable, and more active. She's actually started to play the game. We wanted to make her more empowered. This seasons especially was all about her taking action and putting the skills she's learned to good use, no longer being a bystander who sits around and weeps but actually being a player. This Sansa is no weak little girl!

Me:

Yeah, I can totally see how people think this is a progressive show that makes the "weak, passive, stupid, mean-spirited, shallow" Sansa of the books a more likable, resourceful, intelligent, empowered, and stronger character. Look how much better she plays the game! Look how likable they've made her! Look at that black dress! Yes, this show DEFINITELY improved upon the source material and gave us a far more feminist and empowering storyline. The show gives us a Sansa who can FINALLY play the game! This is the Sansa who knows what she's doing, who is a REAL player, who isn't some weak, shallow, stupid damsel in distress. I'm so glad they went in this direction, it's so much more empowering! Yay! A Sansa who is finally learning and taking on a cool and active story!

#sansa stark #game of thrones #sexism #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #long post tw

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