Little Wolf (Sansa/Petyr)

Three Days

Petyr and Sansa did not go to dinner that night. They each took a bowl of stew in his chambers.
"What have you been doing, Sansa?" Petyr asked, looking up at her as he laid.
"I have been making dresses, for the Queen." She smiled down at him.
"Is that all?" He asked and she thought for a moment.
"Sometimes I sit with Lord Arryn and tell him stories, or I take tea with Lord Tyrion or Lord Varys. I spend the rest of my time reading histories and writing letters to my brother." She mused. Petyr could have listened to her musings all day. He smiled up at her.
"I suppose it is not as interesting as your work." She looked down at her hands.
"Don't ever say that." He stopped her. "Your work is just as important as mine. The Queen must be clothed." He stated with seriousness in his face.

They lay together that night and she hummed songs of old while running her fingers through the hair on his chest. Petyr felt he was in heaven, not that he believed in those sorts of things. Sansa was all sweetness and good and he wondered what he had done to deserve her.
"I love you." He whispered against her hair and felt her smile against his chest.
"And I you." She replied and he was happy, simply happy for the first time in a while.

They took a morning walk together in the snow the next day.
"How is the Red Keep?" Sansa asked. No one spoke to her about such matters, but she wished they did. If she was anyone else, Petyr would have hated her for asking such a question, but he wanted to share his work with Sansa, he wanted her to be proud of him.
"It shall keep." Was all he said and Sansa placed a hand over her mouth as she chuckled at his word play.

After lunch, she sewed and he read. It seemed a perfectly productive way to spend the day with one another. Petyr enjoyed watching her fingers work with the fabric and she enjoyed the conversations they had while she worked.
"When does Tormund arrive?" Petyr asked her.
"In two days time, I believe." Sansa replied, looking up at him.
"And how are things in the North?" He asked and Sansa sighed, unsure how to answer his questions.
"Things are not good. Jon remains strong, but I know that he feels the war coming and he fears for his people." Sansa looked down at her dress, worrying about her brother and her land.
"Once the white walkers come, it shall not matter if we are North or South, it shall be our problem to fight together." Sansa thought aloud.
"If the Queen could cope better in the cold, I would take her to see Jon myself." She continued.
"Is it truly that bad?" Petyr began to worry.
"They are a threat to us all, not only in Westeros, but the whole world." Petyr looked into Sansa's eyes and saw a fear there that he had never seen before, a fear for the lives of all.

Tyrion was clued in to the war in the North. He had not told Sansa, but he had been keeping a correspondence with Jon Snow since they had been at the Vale.
"We need to be focusing on this and this alone." He advised the Queen.
"If you do not, it could mean the death of us all." He continued. Daenerys had not been aware of the scale of the issues that brewed in the North. She became worried, she had never even come into contact with a White Walker, let alone defeated one, she did not know what to do.
"Is there anything that kills them? Wounds them?" She asked, her voice slightly panicked.
"Dragon Glass and Dragon fire." Tyrion stated plainly. Daenerys sighed, her dragons had a purpose once again.
"Well, we have plenty of that." She smiled down at him and Tyrion knew then that she was the best leader to head the army against the forces beyond the wall.

Tormund hated long journeys, and although no journey had been as long as his journey from beyond the wall to behind it, he still detested travelling. The one thing that kept him going was the thought of seeing Brienne. He hadn't realized how much he would miss her, until he was parted from her. Once back at the North, he could not focus on anything. He missed the honeydew smell of her skin (that was always clean) and the golden tinge in her hair and the way that she admired him as nobody else did.

Brienne had heard the news of Tormund's return from Lady Sansa. She had thrown herself into her work since hearing, deciding that there was no use in standing around, daydreaming all day. However, when she was alone in her chamber at night, Brienne would allow herself to miss Tormund; his arms holding her tight, and the graze of his stubble against her cheek, these were the things she would allow herself to think and every night, before she fell asleep, she would send him a prayer, wishing him safe travels.

Daenerys was becoming acclimatised to the Vale's weather. On the odd occasion, she would go out for a walk with Tyrion or Lady Sansa. She enjoyed the Northern girl's company immensely and she wished that she could spend more time with her, but she would have to wait for her three days to be over with Baelish. She was glad that she had given Petyr the time off, for she hadn't seen him once and she was sure that he was having a very fine time.

Sansa laid beside Petyr, relaxed. These past three days had been the best she had experienced in a long while. It reminded her of her childhood, when she felt guarded from the gritty world of war. Petyr made her feel safe, as if he could fend off every whitewalker that may come their way. She wasn't sure if this was true, but it comforted her, nonetheless.
"This is our last evening." Petyr whispered to her and Sansa disliked his fatal tone.
"Don't say that." She whispered back.
"Why not? It is the last evening of the leave I have been given by the Queen. I must go back to work and my time shall be taken up once more, leaving us parted once again." Sansa frowned.
"But, if I could come to you in the evenings th-"
"Sansa, we are not yet married. We have broken the rules enough already, my love. I want to do this properly." Sansa pouted and Petyr clocked it. He placed a gentle kiss to her lips, then stood, to Sansa's surprise, to open the door.
"I will not have anyone think that we are doing anything unethical." He stood by the door. He was asking Sansa to leave, he was actually asking her to leave, she could not believe what she was witnessing.
"Very well." She frowned, storming past him, letting a tear fall once she was in the corridor and heard the door shut behind her.

Sansa was in shock. Petyr had asked her to leave. The one person who had always accepted her and cherished her had asked her to leave. Perhaps he was bored of her. Perhaps, after spending three days with her, he had had enough. Sansa could not help feeling hurt. She felt as if once again, she had been thrown from her comforting bubble, into the world of war. It wasn't fair, after the three wonderful days they had had, it wasn't fair for him to ask her to leave. But the world isn't fair. She thought to herself and Sansa supposed that was the only kind of peace she was going to get.