Little Wolf (Sansa/Petyr)

Playing Games

Petyr watched her leave. He wondered what had made her panic, what made her flee in such a manner. He kissed her, no doubt. But he had kissed her many a time before and she had not fled. He was unsure and this uncertainty brought with it an unnerved feeling of the unknown.

Sansa sat with Jon in their small comfortable room. He did not wish to speak of tactics or war games with her, he had done too much of that already. His time with Sansa was his opportunity to unwind, to speak of truly unimportant things, subjects of little consequence, but entertaining nonetheless.
"What is going on with you and Baelish, Sansa?" He asked her, wanting to hear her side of the events.
"I hardly know myself, Jon. He seems kind and loving. But this is Petyr Baelish, the same man that sold me the Ramsay Bolton, the same man who left me to be raped and tortured. He can come and profess his love, but until he proves himself, I simply can not trust him." She said to him, clearing her own mind on the subject.
"I am glad you feel this way, sister. Only a fool would trust Baelish blindly, and you are no fool. He speaks in pretty words but you must wait and see if there is any meaning behind them before you rush into something." He reassured her.
"You are quite right, brother. May I sit with you at dinner this evening? We have not sat together in so long." She asked, wanting to be away from Lord Baelish to prove her point to him that she was not so easily conquered.
"Of course, Sansa." He replied and just like that their conversation moved onto the supposed affair of the stable boy and her Gretchen.

Petyr sat at dinner and looked across the table at Sansa, laughing and joking with her brother. He ground his teeth. It should be he who she was joking with, laughing with, not them. But no, of course she could sit with her brother after sitting for so many nights with him. Petyr felt ashamed of himself, allowing his pride to be wounded by jealousy of her brother of all men. If it were a knight or a flowery man from King's Landing, he could understand his jealousy, but her brother? He was in no way a threat and Petyr had to check himself.

He watched her leave, in that beautiful green gown. Just as she was leaving the hall, she turned and peaked at him with a small, supposedly subtle glance. When he caught her, she quickly turned away, walking with perfect posture. So that was how she wanted to play. She wanted to play a game with Petyr Baelish? Well, he was sure that she would find herself quite taken aback, playing with the likes of Lord Baelish.

She shouldn't have looked back. Sansa sighed, scolding herself. She wanted to ignore him completely, but she just couldn't help herself. She shook her head, feeling utterly ashamed. Did she honestly have feelings for Petyr Baelish? Could she truly love such a man? She was unsure, but her dreams that night were shrouded in a grey green haze and an aroma of peppermint. She could not even sleep without him invading her mind. She was lost, utterly lost , she was sure.

Sansa spent the next day with an old friend, one of the girls from the Karstark family. Freda was pretty and good company. She and Sansa had played when they were young and had found each other's company incredibly enjoyable. They sat in the middle of the dining hall, on a blanket and spoke of boys and songs, as they had when they were young.
"Do you know who I like? That man you sit with sometimes at dinner. What is his name? B-"
"Baelish, Lord Baelish." Petyr happened to be walking past the hall on a leisurely stroll and heard the girls, so decided to linger and listen in.
"He is handsome and clever, and something about the way he talks is so alluring." The unknown voice praised him and he smiled, puffing his chest, feeling inflating with pride.
"I suppose, if you like that kind of man." Petyr chuckled to himself. She knew he was there, or one of his minions. She was playing the game and he was more than willing to play along.
"What kind of man do you like, Sansa?" The girl asked and Petyr pricked up his ears.
"I like the valiant kind of man. Sir Jaime Lannister is very handsome as was Loras Tyrell, seven blessings to his name." Sansa replied and Petyr now knew for certain that she was playing with him. As he knew for a fact that she found the Kingslayer repulsive and that Loras was far from her tastes now. He did not stay to listen further, he walked and concocted a plan to counter Sansa's move.