Lesson Learned

"Alayne, Alayne, I'm Alayne, not Sansa." She tried to convince herself. "But if I'm Alayne then why – why did he?" Sansa closed her eyes as she remembered the day's events. So much had happened when all she had wanted to do was build a snow-castle. Build Winterfell. He surprised her when he offered to help with her castle, Sansa recalled. She was even enjoying herself for the first time in, well, she couldn't remember when. She giggles at the memory of throwing a snowball at Lord Petyr; she had no idea he could be any fun at all. Truth be told, he had always frightened her a little. In Kingslanding, he had kept his distance, standing aside as Joffrey had his Knight's beat and humiliate her; but she always noticed him watching. No matter where she was in Kingslanding, he seemed to be nearby. He was always calm and when her blue eyes met his grey-green ones, they never smiled along with his lips.

Sansa paced her chambers and found herself standing on the balcony over-looking the Vale. It was beautiful she thought, but not as lovely as Winterfell had been. Staring out over the clouds, Sansa moved two fingers over her lips as she thought of Lord Petyr. After the snowball, he moved in close, closer than he'd ever allowed before. He spoke of warming her and before she realized what he had planned, his lips were on hers.

At first, she had resisted, tried to pull away but that only pulled her closer into his embrace. Caught in his grasp, the taste of mint on his tongue. Sansa found herself enjoying his touch, more than she expected to. It hadn't been her first, Joffrey had kissed her, his were rough and painful. The hound too kissed her after he demanded a song; his kiss was cruel and demanding. Her Lord husband Tyrion had kissed her on their wedding day, while his touch was light and kind, Sansa still couldn't find pleasure there. Lord Petyr though, his touch, his kiss, it seemed to stir within her like none other. Sansa found herself replaying their moment over and over again.

While she wished her mind would stay on their kiss, it kept dwelling on what happened afterwards. Little Robert destroying her castle and Aunt Lysa. Aunt Lysa haunted Sansa. Watching Littlefinger push her out the moon-door. His murderous moment put Sansa on guard, his own wife, he showed no remorse for her death and she worried he may turn around and hurt her, murder her one day. As her thoughts lingered on his Littlefinger side, she thought about his breathtaking kiss again. How he thought her more beautiful than her own mother. Sansa's hand to believe Petyr would never hurt her, not like all the other men in her life.

Coming back in from the cold, Sansa continued to pace her chambers thinking about Lord Petyr and their kiss. She wondered if he would kiss her again if he could bring back that unknown feeling she had felt? As the hour grew dark, Sansa realized she spent the majority of the evening thinking of Petyr. Yet, she continued to pace and wonder. Finally, when she knew the castle would be asleep, Sansa found her courage and left her chambers in search of Lord Petyr.

She found him sitting in the library, sitting in one of the tall wingback chairs by the fire, book in his hands with a glass of wine on the table next to him. Sansa stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him slowly take a sip of wine and setting his glass back down without a glance away from his page. Silently talking herself up, she made her mind up and decided she finally wanted to know what all the fuss was about. She knew what kissing felt like, but all the rest; so many songs and tales told of what beholds a man and a woman. Sansa was once wed, shouldn't she know? Her thoughts continued to spiral.

"I wonder?" Sansa said softly.

"Wonder what sweetling?" Petyr inquired as he turned a page, unsurprised by her presence.

Sansa looked back to the closed door, hoping everyone truly was asleep.

"Father," Sansa began in her best Alayne impression. "Except you're not." She fell silent as Petyr finally looked up from his book.