Little Wolf (Sansa/Petyr)

Decision Making

Sansa sat with Jon, as she did most days. However, their topic of conversation was not as light as usual.
"Jon, I don't know what to do." Sansa began, sighing in desperation.
"Sansa. You don't have to please me, or Lord Baelish, or this new Queen by going to King's Landing. You only have to do what will make you happy. You have lived in such sorrow, I can not and will not see you like that again." He advised her.
"But, I fear that I want to go. I fear that it would make me happy." Sansa played with the fabric of her dress, embarrassed by the topic of conversation.
"Why?" Was Jon's only question.
"I fear that Lord Baelish makes me happy." Sansa stopped herself, not wanting to continue. Jon placed his hand over Sansa's and rubbed her skin softly.
"That is not something to fear. He brings out the best in you, the smart, talented side of you that sews dresses and thinks of battle tactics. I will not force you, but I think it would be positive for you to go. Do not fear for your claim in the North. Even if you marry Lord Baelish, Stark blood will run through your child's veins and it shall be they who will inherit Winterfell, as the rightful heir." Sansa smiled up at Jon, gripping his hand a little tighter.

Petyr sat with Sansa at dinner, but they did not speak of King's Landing. Instead, for dessert, the wench brought Sansa a plate of beautifully frosted lemon cakes. Sansa clasped a hand over her mouth in shock, hoping that no one had noticed the gesture.
"They are a gift. I found them on my journey." Petyr whispered in Sansa's ear. She beamed up at him and excitedly took his hand in her's under the table. She felt Petyr become tense and then immediately relax. His fingers intermingled with hers and he gripped her hand loosely, feeling her skin brush against his. Sansa revelled in the bittersweet taste of the cakes. She had not tasted a lemon cake since her time in the Capital. The sweet delight reminded her of the sun and the gardens and the diverse society.
"When do you leave for the Capital, Lord Baelish?" Sansa asked softly, trying to scope out the situation.
"In two days, my Lady." Sansa nodded and continued with her cakes. Petyr delighted in seeing her so happy with her gift. Their hands remained interlinked for the entirety of the meal, until they bid each other goodnight. The arrival of Brienne put their physical relationship on hold, which Sansa was grateful for. But still, as she laid in her bed, she missed his touch, his cool, yet tender hands holding her.

Sansa dreamt of fine wine and warmth, of old friends and the opportunity to make new acquaintances. She would go to King's Landing as the representative of the North. But she was sure that once she had a taste for the southern life, that she would not want to return. The only person left to consult was Brienne. Sansa found her, chatting with a certain ginger wildling, whose name she could not recall. Sansa remained quiet for a moment, in order to listen in.
"Jon has asked me to go and I can not deny him." She heard the man sulk in his gruff voice.
"I understand." Brienne replied curtly.
"I will be back." The man replied softly, after the lengthy silence.
"Yes. Yes I know." Brienne replied. There was a moment of silence and Sansa peaked her head around the corner and saw the man lean down to kiss Brienne on the cheek. She only then realised how massive the man was, to be able to lean down to kiss Brienne. Not wanting to barge in, Sansa returned to her quarters and asked for Brienne to be brought to her.

Brienne sat in Sansa's quarters and waited to hear the important news for which she had been summoned.
"I am journeying to the south, with Lord Baelish, to meet the new Queen." Sansa began.
"Would it be of any interest to you to join me?" She asked lightly.
"Yes." Brienne replied too quickly. Sansa raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Only there will be many new opportunities where the Queen's guard is concerned and I am very interested in the role." Sansa smiled, glad that Brienne was so enthusiastic about the journey, it made everything so much easier.

Sansa sat beside Petyr at dinner the following evening. She had informed Jon of her journey that afternoon.
"Oh good, I am sending Tormund with you to represent the wildling force." Jon informed her. Sansa now realised why Brienne had been so quick to agree to a trip to King's Landing.
"Very well, brother. I suppose this shall be our last afternoon meeting for a while." She noted with remorse in her voice.
"Yes, I suppose so." He replied, equally sorrowful.
"But listen, have a nice time. Let Baelish by you all of the finest silks and lemon cakes that he can afford. Let him indulge you. I am sure it will bring him the greatest of pleasures." Jon winked at her, before pulling her into a tight embrace. Sansa knew that he would be alright. He had died once and even death couldn't hold him down.

Sansa sat beside Petyr at dinner and, once again, took his hand.
"I shall travel with you, Lord Baelish, to the Capital." She informed him and he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his head. All of the lonely nights and empty days he feared he would have to endure were all wiped away with one breath from Sansa Stark. He chuckled and smiled down at her.
"I am so glad. I am sure the Capital has been dim without your light." Petyr complimented her and she blushed a deep shade of scarlet which made Petyr feel rather pleased with himself.

Sansa watched as Gretchen giddily packed her gowns away.
"Have you ever been to the Capital before, Gretchen?" Sansa asked, wondering where she had been before becoming her handmaid.
"No, my Lady. I have lived my entire life on the outskirts of Winterfell." Sansa smiled knowingly.
"Then it shall be very different for you, life in King's Landing." Sansa replied and Gretchen showed her gratitude for the opportunity.

Petyr packed his own things, not wanting a boy rustling around in his things. He wondered how life would change. He had lived for a long time in King's Landing. But it had been so different then. He had wanted the throne and nothing more. His days were filled with plotting and scheming. Only now did he realise that perhaps the iron throne was not all that it was cut out to be. He was sure, were he to obtain it, that Sansa would be in constant danger and he would have the responsibility of the seven kingdoms. He loved power, but he was not sure if heloved it enough to sacrifice everything. Life at the top was powerful, no doubt, but also lonely, and Petyr thought to himself that he might be happier as the Master of Coin, with a family, stability and enough power to sedate his lust.

Jon watched Sansa as she walked through Winterfell one last time before leaving. Part of him wanted to join her, but he knew that this was a time for her to be with herself, to think to herself and contemplate what her life was going to look like. Jon had never been to King's Landing, but he knew, for Sansa, that it was a place of great pain and violence, that she had been forced to experience terrible things. But then, she had also been forced to experience terrible things at Winterfell. He sighed, wondering when her life would finally settle itself enough to allow her to be happy and hoped that it would be sooner rather than later.

Sansa stood at the gates of Winterfell and looked back at Jon. He was stood, on his own, very unlike the masses of men that had been sent to send off Lord Baelish the last time he left. But it was appropriate that it be only him. In the end, he was the only one left at Winterfell who truly loved her. She embraced him and whimpered lightly into his ear.
"Now, don't be upset. I shall see you again soon. Please, try to enjoy yourself." He whispered into her ear and she nodded. He smiled at her, before handing her over to Baelish.
"Please take care of her, as well as yourself, Lord Baelish." Jon took his hand.
"I will strive for nothing else, Warden." He smiled and Jon thumped him on the back.
"Tormund! Remember what we discussed." Jon called to him and he nodded, calling back that he would never forget. Brienne and he rode off on horseback, as she had requested. Sansa then climbed into the carriage and looked back at Winterfell, bidding it farewell. Petyr soon slid in, sitting opposite her.
"I mean it, Sansa. No one will hurt you, I will take care of you." He promised her, the truth in his eyes penetrating her very being. She had never believed Lord Baelish before, but something seemed different this time.
"I believe you, Lord Baelish." She reassured him, looking back Winterfell, disappearing into the distance. She turned her eyes away from her reseeding home and looked to Petyr. And for the first time in a long while. the future looked bright.