Little Wolf (Sansa/Petyr)

The Fire

Life had changed for both Petyr and Sansa since their announcement. Sansa had become the young blushing bride, surrounded by the women of Westeros, preparing for her life of marriage. Petyr had mixed reactions from his peers. Many had congratulated him and sung praises of his young, beautiful bride to be. However, others had insisted that she was far too young to become his wife and that there was a perverse nature about all of it. These protestations did not bother him so much, as he knew what the truth was and they could not take that from him.

However, the intimacy that Sansa had hoped to gain through the announcement seemed to be a distant dream. There was not a moment that they spent alone without someone coming and whisking her away. She missed the times when she and Petyr could sit and talk, without prying eyes watching their every move. Petyr could focus his mind with his work, but he did so miss her when he lay alone at night, their nightly meetings had been put to an end, Sansa not being allowed to leave her room once she had retired. He would count the days until they were married and they would once again share a chamber.

Daenerys was glad to be surrounded by so many people of Westeros. She felt like a true leader when she was surrounded by others. She had decided, after much deliberation, to ask a select few to remain in the Red Keep permanently.
"I suppose soon I must search for a husband." She sighed, sitting with Jorah in her chamber.
"I am afraid that you might be right. You are an independent woman, but the nation will expect a marriage soon enough." Jorah had given up on the idea of becoming Daenerys' bride. He knew that she should marry someone young, with power and wealth and he simply did not fit the description. But, this new arrangement suited him well. He could still love her and spend his time with her, and he knew in some way, that she cared for him in return.
"I do not enjoy the men of Westeros. Could I not take a foreign partner?" She asked and Jorah knew immediately of the men she spoke.
"I am sure if you could find a Dothraki Khal, who would stay with you here, that the people of Westeros would respect your choice." Daenerys laughed.
"I am sure that they would not. But what choice would they have? As the Queen, I can choose whoever pleases me. Would you set Varys on the task?" She asked and Jorah stood, accepting the job.
"Of course, my Queen." He bowed and left, going to find Varys.

Varys sat in his office, sifting through the reports he had received throughout the week. His work was interrupted when Jorah Mormont entered his office, standing silently for a few moments.
"Sir Jorah, how can I help you?" He asked, his voiced riddled with sarcasm and annoyance. However, Jorah did not notice the unfriendly tone of his voice and proceeded to explain himself, whilst taking a seat.
"I am here on behalf of the Queen, with a sensitive question to ask."
"Well, Sir Jorah, you are safe in my confidence." Varys spoke through the motions, wanting this meeting to be over with.
"The Queen has decided that it is time that she sought a partner." Jorah began.
"I see." Varys nodded along, now more interested in the conversation.
"However, the Queen has specific tastes that she believed that your skills would help her find."
"Please explain yourself, Sir Jorah. I am a busy man." Varys' tone was riddled with annoyance now.
"She wishes to find a dothraki man, a Khal." Without another word, Varys stood, ushering Jorah out of his office.
"Of course, I shall set myself to work immediately. Good day." And with that, he was alone, with a new task that he was sure he could sink his teeth into.

For Brienne, King's Landing was not all it had been when they had first arrived. She was alone, without the company of Tormund and she couldn't help the loneliness settle. She threw herself into her work with the Queen's guard and Sansa in order to combat this feeling. She ensured that Sansa and Petyr were never together alone. She knew Sansa despised her for this, and part of her knew she was doing it out of spite, but she convinced herself that she was merely doing her duty.

Sansa had been asleep for many hours when the smell of smoke began to fill her chamber. Her lungs filled with smoke almost instantly and she found herself gasping for air that she simply could not find.

Petyr was awoken by Tyrion banging on his door.
"What is it?" He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his mouth agape in yawn.
"Dro- Drogon has set the Red Keep alight." He panted and puffed.
"Sansa." He pushed past Tyrion, running down the halls of the Red Keep, towards her chamber. His legs moved fast, but not as fast as he wanted. His breath came short and quick, but he knew that he had to go for her.

Brienne saw him running towards Sansa's chambers, and part of her wanted to stop him and collect Sansa herself. But she was already supporting two Lords on her shoulders, so she simply hoped that he would not get there too late.

Sansa was unconscious when Petyr arrived. He battered down the door with a strength that he did not know he had. He panicked for a single moment, seeing her in such a way. However, he soon pulled her off of the bed, a dead weight, cradled her and began his exit.

The smoke had begun to affect him and his eyes began to falter. Petyr fought on, each foot hitting the floor harder than the last, and managed to get to the gardens, where he placed Sansa onto the ground, before collapsing himself.

The ladies immediately went to Lady Sansa's side. With some smelling salts and water, she was quickly brought around. When she saw Petyr, collapsed, she fought against the ladies restraints unsuccessfully and watched as Podrick poured a bucket of water of Baelish, summoning him back into consciousness.

Once they had been restored to health, Petyr took Sansa to his town home, as there was nowhere else to retreat to. He knew that he would have to deal with the damage and the loss of money in the morning. But, for now, he wanted to bathe and then rest, with her, away from prying eyes.