Hush...

Petyr Baelish- Daughter of Winter Pt. 1

***** A Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark Short story  *****

There was little to be done about the current situation. As the Gods would have it, Jon Snow was now King of the North, and Winter had come, just like Ned Stark had been saying all along. House Stark was again proven right, and all there was to do was salvage what was left of the Seven Kingdoms after the destructive war that had raged for years.

And Sansa, sweet Sansa, had let yet another opportunity pass her by, refusing my offer as we spoke under the trees in the GodsWood. Rejecting me. Rejecting what I offered.

So here I was, standing in front of her bedroom door, deciding on wether or not to go in.

I had given her time. Given her space. Now it was time for us to talk.

"...Sansa?" I called, knocking softly on the door "May I come in?"

There was a long silence, an I was worried I'd have to let myself in.

"Yes, you may" sounded her voice from the other side of the door.

I smiled to myself, opening the door and slipping inside before closing it behind me.

"Lord Baelish" Sansa's melodic voice greeted me as my eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room. Even now, after all the hardships she'd faced, Sansa remained a truly beautiful young woman. Maybe a bit more stoic and distant than before, but all the stronger because of it.

Never would I forgive myself for having married her off to Ramsay Bolton. It was a guilt I'd have to carry with me 'till my dying breath, a burden that weighed heavily on me. It had shattered her trust in me, and now I'd  have to find a way to regain that trust. To make her see the truth of my ways, the potential of what I was offering her.

She'd taken up in her old room, having let Jon stay in what used to be her parent's room. The thought was maddening, but I could see the strong bond between siblings. The North Remembers, and the Pack stays together while the lone wolf dies. It was a lesson I'd learned the hard way.

The room was wide and had a high arched ceiling, with shapely windows letting in copious amounts of lights, although with thee falling snow and rapidly approaching winter there was little of that left to illuminate the room. Light blue curtains softly brushed the window-frame and and ocean blue covers with white embroidery lay on the canopy bed.

Sansa herself was sitting by the fire. I nearly forgot to breath as I saw her. She looked beautiful. So delicate and graceful. Her fiery hair was piled atop her head in a loose chignon, some strands falling to frame her face. And yet there was an edge to her, a strength that radiate from within.  It hadn't been there before, back in Kings Landing. She'd been so innocent, so naive. Now she was hardened by the world and the monsters that inhabited it.

Her pale blue eyes seemed to bore right into my soul as she looked up at me, her delicate hands clasped together and resting in her lap.

"I told you to call me Petyr" I said, making my way to the window and leaning against the wall, a few paces away from her.

"You know I don't care for your games any longer, Petyr" she said, the edge to her voice cutting like steel. Gone was the demure young girl I'd seen in The Eyrie. In her place was a willful young woman who'd just won back her home and lost a brother.

I sighed.

"Sansa..... What do you want?" I asked her.

Her head snapped up, her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at me.