Reunited

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To his surprise, the battle had begun and was on its way to being won by the time that Petyr arrived back in Winterfell. He felt like he had been away for an eternity, although in truth it had only been a handful of moons. He longed to lay his eyes upon her, to see her amongst the snow. He guessed that she would be angry and avoid him, forcing him to beg and grovel for her attention. However, when he arrived, there she was, stood with Jon Snow, in a deep red gown. Her skin blushed against the tone of the dress and her lips parted, the colour of two ripe strawberries. He felt the air leave his lungs. He was unsure how to think, his mind stopped all together. The soft smile that touched her lips was enough for Petyr to bite down upon his own and let his eyes fall shut.

Sansa had allowed herself to indulge. She had thrown herself into her occupation fully. She had made three fine dresses. One of red, one of gold and one of brilliant white. She had requested cream, but Gretchen had found her a far superior fabric that surpassed Sansa's plans. Whilst working, she realised that there was not a dichotomy between a respected woman and a woman besotted with a man. People would respect her no more if she closed herself off and became prudish. She would be far more liked if it were seen that she were a real woman, with real emotions, capable of being courted. News had come of the Targaryen girl and Sansa did not fear so much anymore. She knew, if what she had heard of this woman was correct, that Jon could continue being Warden of the North, as he wished. He did not care for the name "King" he had told her and had begun asking people to call him Warden instead. Sansa was grateful for this as she knew that it would secure the future of her house.

She decided to stand and wait for Petyr, as she had not when he left. Gretchen dressed her in her blood red gown.
"You look radiant, my Lady. The craftsmanship is beyond belief." Gretchen complimented Sansa. She had to admit that the dess far surpassed anything that she had made before. The cold turned her lips crimson and she looked quite the Lady, she believed. She joined Jon in position.
"The poor man. You'll shock him half to death." He jested, looking down upon her.
"Do you think I should change?" She asked, wondering if the neckline was indecent.
"No, you look marvelous. Too marvelous for poor Baelish, I dare say." Jon complimented her and chuckled.

They stood and watched as the carriage rode in. There were a few moments of anticipation before Baelish emerged. He was dressed all in black. His hair was freshly trimmed and he lacked all of the sickly trimmings that Sansa had expected. She watched as he attempted to keep his eyes off of her. He greeted Jon, stated how he had missed Winterfell during his time away. He then came to Sansa. His gaze burned with an emotion that she could not fully comprehend.
"Welcome, Lord Baelish. We are all so glad that you have returned." She curtsied to him, before he caught her hand.
"I can not tell you how glad I am to have returned." He placed his lips to her fingers before striding off, to his chambers.

Petyr breathed heavily, after having to show such self restraint. He wondered where she had acquired such a gown, but shook his head not wanting to ponder on such things. He expected a pile of letters to be waiting for him at his desk. However, it was only one that he was met with.

Lord Baelish,

I am writing to alert you to the swift nature of the battle between the Lannisters and Targaryens. The fighting should be over by the full moon and my Lady asks that you and whoever might accompany you to be in King's Landing by the end of this cycle. I hope that this is suitable for you, I expect to hear a reply if it is not so. Things are changing, my Lord and you should be glad that you are on the winning side.

Yours,

Varys.

Petyr rubbed the back of his neck in anxiety. He wondered what he should do. This was the biggest opportunity in his life. But could he take Sansa away from her home? He was unsure. But soon enough, the idea of spending the winter in the bitter cold of Winterfell became less alluring. He knew he would have to talk to Jon Snow about his situation sooner or later and Petyr preferred the idea of the former rather than the latter.

Jon sat in his quarters, with his letter from King's Landing in his hand. He was unsure about this new Queen. But, he wanted to keep his mind open and he thought about who he would send to represent the North and Winterfell. His musings were interrupted by Lord Baelish knocking at his door.
"I have a dilema, your highness." Petyr began.
"Please, call me Jon." He stated, wanting to be on more personal terms with Lord Baelish.
"As you may have heard, there is to be new rule in King's Landing." Petyr stated slowly and tentatively.
"Yes, I have been made aware of the fact." Jon gave little away of his feelings.
"I have been informed that my presence is required to keep control of the funds under the new Queen." Petyr explained his situation.
"I see. And have you grown to love the North so much that you do not wish to leave it?" Jon asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"It is not the North so much as a certain inhabitant of Winterfell." Jon chuckled at the diplomatic nature of the man's speech.
"Sansa may journey with you if she wishes. I need somebody to represent the North and as the last remaining Stark, I believe that it would be appropriate for her to attend." Petyr felt a smile creep to the corners of his mouth.
"But I will not force her. You must understand this, Lord Baelish. You may take away your forces and deny me your allegiance, but I will not force her." He stated in a solid voice that allowed no room for discussion.
"I would not expect you to, and I would be upset if you did, I daresay. All I ask is for permission to enquire, to see if she would come with me." Petyr bowed his head, knowing that he would have to be reverent to Jon Snow to get what he wanted.
"Why of course, Lord Baelish. She is a free woman, she should be able to make her own choices. By all means ask her." Jon allowed Petyr what he wanted.
"I shall not be taking the army of the Vale out of the North. They are yours to man. Please, see it as a gift, a token of forces in a time of desperate need." Petyr stated as he stood.
"Thank you, Lord Baelish. You are a good man." Jon replied, shaking Petyr's hand. Petyr laughing internally at the thought that he was a good man, based on his past. But thanked Jon for the compliment nonetheless.

Sansa spoke with Brienne in her entertaining quarters. After Petyr had left, Brienne had arrived, making Sansa's time alone rather less dull.
"I am so sorry that you had to bid farewell to Sir Jaime." Sansa comforted Brienne, who put on a brave face, but was hurting inside.
"I am not sure such sentiments are needed. He loved the woman who killed so many innocent people. I am unsure if he is dead or alive, but he is not the man I thought he was." Brienne looked to her hands reverently. Sansa placed her hands upon Brienne's.
"We have all loved those we do not truly know. I thought myself in love with Geoffrey, but that was quite a fantasy." Sansa reassured Brienne, who broke into laughter.
"I still cannot believe a girl as smart as you could ever be engaged to such a brat." Sansa laughed along with her, until they heard a knock at the door. Brienne stood to answer it.
"Lady Brienne, I did not know you had arrived." Petyr greeted the Lady, in shock.
"Yes, Lord Baelish. I have been here some days now." She replied in a flat voice.
"Brienne, it is quite alright. You may let Lord Baelish in. I shall see you at dinner." Sansa insisted and despite Brienne's disapproving looks, she left them alone.

Petyr sat opposite Sansa and drank her in as if she were a tall goblet of the finest Dornish wine he had ever tasted.
"You returned." She stated simply, an impressed tone flourishing her voice.
"As I promised, my Lady." Petyr replied.
"Was your trip productive?" She asked, wanting to snoop into his business.
"That is what I am here to speak with you about." He began carefully.
"Oh, please continue, Lord Baelish." Sansa sat back comfortably and waited.
"You may have heard that there is to be new rule in King's Landing." He began, ensuring that he worded his sentiments properly.
"Yes, the Targaryen girl." Sansa followed.
"I have been asked by one of her closest advisers to travel to the Capital and take up the office of Master of Coin." He stated suggestively. He saw her face sink, but quickly recovered.
"However, the reason that I am here, is because I would like to ask you if you would journey with me?" He asked outright, not wanting to fluff up his proposal. Sansa sat in awe for a moment.
"Your brother is in need of a representative and I can assure you that no one could do more justice to the North or to Winterfell as you." He added. Sansa furrowed her brow and pondered for a moment. She loved the weather and the company in King's Landing, and she certainly did not want to be parted from Petyr when things were going so well. She sighed and shook her head lightly, instilling the greatest fear within Petyr.
"I love Winterfell, it is my home. But it does not feel like home anymore." She mused aloud.
"I shall have to speak to my brother about it. And also Brienne. She is my closest friend." Petyr nodded.
"Of course, my Lady. I would expect no less. And where Lady Brienne is concerned, I am sure our new Queen shall be able to put her to fine use." He bowed, before leaving her to her thoughts. He wished that he could stay. But truly, he knew that a moment in solitude and the in the company of her thoughts was what was best for Sansa in this moment. Because, much like her brother, Petyr would not take her to the Capital by force.

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