Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters involved or anything related to Game of Thrones. This is a non-profit fanfiction and everything belongs to their rightful owners.

Rating: M

Pairing: Loras/Sansa

Context: This is just an AU fanfic that I've been thinking about for a while. Being a book reader I knew Sansa's marriage to a Tyrell wasn't going to happen but it still popped into my mind - hey, that's what fanfics are for! Hopefully you guys will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed reading it :) I don't know how many chapters this is going to last, it probably won't be a very long story but I wanted to share nonetheless - mind you the last time I said that I wrote a 50 chapters fanfic so you never know!

The Lady of Flowers

Chapter one: A bride of green and gold

Sansa smiled at her reflection in the mirror: her long auburn hair had been lifted in a elaborate manner that showed the length of her neck, drawing the focus to the necklace she wore, emeralds set in shining gold to match her earrings. Sansa herself was all emerald and gold but for the Stark cloak that had just been put on her shoulders.

"Do you think he'll like me?" she nervously asked as Shae dabbed some perfume on her elegant neck.

Margaery had a soft laugh.

"You tell me if he does not, sweet girl. I'll make sure to put some sense into his head."

She saw the queen-to-be smile to her through the mirror when she approached.

"You look marvelous, Sansa. The Tyrell colours fit you as though you were born to them."

"Thank you, Lady Margaery, you are most kind."

The brunette laughed again.

"What will it take for you to stop being so formal with me, Sansa? In just a few hours, we'll be sisters, you and I."

"I'm sorry - I think it's because I still can't believe it. It seems too good to be true."

Margaery seemed hurt.

"Didn't you trust me?"

"I did!" Sansa quickly replied, afraid she might have offended her. "It was not you I didn't trust, nor your family - I just - it seemed to good to be true that the Lannisters would let me out of their grasp."

"Do you think we asked them for permission?" Margaery asked, her voice not as light as it had been earlier.

"No, I would think not."

"Yet there is little they can do about it now, and nothing they can do about it once the marriage is consummated, and trust me, Sansa, it's killing them. They will probably try to ruin your day, but you need to remember..."

She brought her lips to her ear to whisper, her voice so low that even Shae, who was making final adjustments to her hair, could not hear her:

"They are powerless. You are getting out of this place and there is nothing they can do to stop you."

"What if they don't let me leave?" Sansa asked, biting her bottom lip nervously.

"The Lady of Highgarden belongs in Highgarden. What do the Lannisters have to say about that?"

She took her hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Shall we go?"

Sansa nodded, and the two young women left the bedroom.

Sansa was alone now, about to walk through the Great Sept: Margaery had left her to join the rest of her family. My family, Sansa thought, In just a short while they will be my family too. From where she was standing, she could see Loras, clad in Tyrell colours, waiting for her with the septon. As she attempted to make her first step towards him, she felt a hand tight around her arm, startling her. Sansa turned around, and her blood turned to ice when she saw that the hand on her left arm belonged to no other than Joffrey.

"What are you doing?" she asked, trying her very best to sound calm even if her heart was pounding in her chest.

"Your father's dead," he reminded her, his lips curving in a cruel smile, "As the Father of the Realm, it is my duty to give you away to your husband."

Sansa had a very hard time hiding her revulsion: how dare he think that he could stand there instead of her lord father? Sansa had expected to walk alone on her way to Loras, or to be escorted by a man of the Tyrell family, or the cook, anyone but by Joffrey himself. Her body stiffened when she felt his other hand pressed against her rear - even through so many layers of silky fabric, she could feel it burning her skin.

"Such a shame," Joffrey noted, everyone looking at them but no one close enough to hear their voices or to notice what he was doing, "To waste all of this on a man who has no idea how to use it properly."

They are powerless, Margeary's voice resonated in her mind, They are powerless, there is nothing they can do to stop you, they are powerless. She glanced over at Loras for a swift second, then turned back on Joffrey with a new strength in her eyes.

"But, Your Grace," she said politely, "I was to marry you, and you cast me away, remember?"

Her words seemed to anger him.

"I cast you away because you are a traitor's daughter and unworthy of being my queen!"

"I realize that, Your Grace. Your Grace was wise not to sully himself with me, and let the Tyrells have me."

He did not know how to respond to that: fortunately for Sansa, he was not given any more time to formulate a reply:

"Well," Lady Olenna's voice rose, loud enough to be heard in the whole sept, "Were we not here for a wedding? I seem to remember we were here for a wedding. Of course, I can't know for sure until the bride is escorted to her husband and the ceremony can actually start."

Sansa had never felt so grateful to anybody in her entire life: his face still flushed with anger, Joffrey began walking, slowly leading her to Loras. On their right stood the Tyrell family, smiling: on their left stood the Lannisters, sulking. Margaery was right: they didn't take the news very well. Joffrey's grasp was still firm around her arm, and she knew she should not have provoked him, but she did not care about it anymore: her blue eyes were set on Loras. Just a couple more steps and I'll be with my Knight of Flowers, just a couple of steps and I'll be free of Joffrey...

Finally, they reached their destination, climbing the final steps towards Loras, and Joffrey left. Ser Loras had always been handsome, but this day Sansa found him particularly beautiful: tall and lean, clad in green and gold just like her, with soft curled hair and a kind smile on his lips. In his hands he held a Tyrell cloak, carefully folded. He told me he wanted a bride in gold and green, she remembered, The most beautiful bride in the world... does he find me to his liking?

Once she was in place next to her husband-to-be, the septon looked at Loras.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."

"By the Sevens, finally," she heard Lady Olenna sigh as she moved her upper body slightly, turning her back on him so that he may switch the cloaks.

As she did so, her eyes met with Tywin Lannister's, who stared at her with such intensity that he seemed to think his glare alone could stop the ceremony. Right next to him stood Joffrey and his mother, both of them seeming as angry as the Hand, although probably not for the very same reasons. Loras' hands unclasped the Stark cloak and replaced it with the Tyrell cloak: the new cloak was heavy with green velvet and golden embroideries, yet Sansa had never felt so light. He protects me, she thought, My knight protects me, Joffrey and the queen can't harm me anymore.

"Your Grace, Your Grace," the septon said towards Joffrey and Cersei, "My lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever..."

The rest of the ceremony was like a dream to Sansa: everything felt blurred until it was done and Loras took her hand and kissed it gently.

"You look absolutely radiant, my lady."

She smiled.

"Thank you, my lord. You are most handsome as well."

It is done, she reflected as they walked down the stairs under the cheers, Done, done, I am Sansa Tyrell, Lady of Highgarden, the Lannisters and Joffrey can't hold me here anymore, they can't hurt me anymore.

"Ah, finally-"

Lady Olenna smiled to her warmly as Margaery hugged her and congratulated her. Her smile refusing to leave her lips, Sansa hugged her back before nodding her head respectfully towards her grandmother.

"I thank you, my lady, for your help earlier today."

She knew full well that Lady Olenna had only voiced her impatience so that Joffrey would stop tormenting her.

"Oh it was nothing," Olenna dismissed her with a wave of her hand, "Nothing at all, really."

As Olenna walked away to sit down, Sansa heard a man's voice raising:

"Lady Sansa, you look more beautiful than ever."

The voice belonged to Mace Tyrell: Sansa, out of reflex, gave him a polite curtsy.

"You are too kind, my lord. I'm just so happy. I'm really glad and grateful that you would welcome me in your family."

"It is a pleasure to have you join us, Lady Sansa."

The rest of the Tyrells followed, each of them congratulating her and welcoming her in the family. Sansa politely thanked them, and it went on and on until Olenna's voice rose again:

"Is there going to be a feast?" she asked. "I'm quite hungry, and I've always thought the highlight of any wedding was the food."

On those wise words, the guests started leaving the sept to make their way back to the Red Keep: Sansa walked out with a newly found confidence, her arm under Loras' and a smile plastered on her lips.