Sansa studied his face as they rode in the wagon house. It seemed like so long ago that he had pulled her from that ladder and onto the safety of the ship leaving King's Landing. But it was only three nights ago. She found herself thinking about that night often. Though, if she were being completely honest with herself, she found herself thinking of his expression when he removed the hood of her cloak. It was an expression she could not fully decipher - with hints of joy, relief, love? Desire? She could not say for sure. Since then, she had made it her personal mission to learn to read Lord Baelish's face. All the better to play the game, she thought.

And yet, it was not the game she was considered with as she studied his face this evening. It was curiosity, maybe even longing though she'd never admit it. The salt and pepper of his hair gave him a distinguished attribute, but the lack of wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth indicated he was not as old as she originally thought when she first met him. I was a girl then. A woman now. After the torment she had gone through, she was definitely a woman now. And as a woman, she found herself attracted to his mischievous smirk, the touch of Braavosi accent, the gravel in his voice. It all effected her in a way it should not. But she wasn't going to deny it anymore. Not to herself, anyway.

She was jolted from her thoughts as the wagon house hit a severe pothole, the whole carriage tipped over. Petyr immediately opened his eyes and grabbed her shoulders, looking into her eyes. As the carriage settled to a stop, albeit tilted severely, he asked, "are you okay?" She swallowed and nodded. Relief flooded his eyes. "Wait here," he told her sternly. He exited the carriage to have a very, very stern talking to with the driver. After all, it was not just him in that carriage.

While she half-expected him to yell, she knew better. He was much more terrifying with his quiet anger. She guessed the driver was pissing himself at this very moment. All of a sudden, the carriage door opened once more.

"Come. There's an inn less than a mile away. It's still bright enough we should be safe walking." She took his outstretched hand as he helped her out of the carriage. She turned to find one of the wheels had completely detached from the wagon house. She let her hand linger on his longer than appropriate. But then propriety finally bested her and she let her hand drop.

"We'll stay here for the night. We should be safe now that you're hair isn't a dead give away." He said lightly, a twitch of his mouth. "I'm sure you've missed sleeping in a bed."

"Yes, my lord. But I'd sleep in a wagon house until the end of days if it meant I was free of King's Landing." She replied dryly.

"I'd agree with you there m'lady. But for tonight at least, we won't have to. And you are free from that hell forever."

Their eyes met, and she allowed herself to give him the softest of smiles before looking back down at her feet.

Soon enough, they arrived at the Hair of the Dog inn. After entering, Sansa realized she might have spoken too soon earlier. This was positively the most repulsive, filthy establishment she had ever had the displeasure to lay eyes on. As Peter spoke to the man at the front desk, Sansa stayed at the entrance, watching the men and women drink old ale and eat stale bread at dirty tables on grimy, sticky floors.

"Come, I've had supper sent to our rooms." Petyr told her, seemingly reading her mind. Like always. He handed her the key to her room as they reached the third floor landing. "We'll dine in my room, but yours is just across the hall if you need me." Sansa nodded. They entered his room to find a table with cheese, bread, meats and some fruit that was probably days away from fermentation. They both nibbled here and there, neither talking. After all the edible food was gone, Sansa excused herself, "I think I will retire for the evening Lord Baelish."

"Petyr."

"Goodnight, Lor- Petyr. Sleep well."

"You as well, Sansa." He said before she turned and headed for her room across the hall. She dressed in her night shift, but it was not nearly warm enough under the parchment thin sheets and moth-eaten blanket. Worse yet, she could here the rats scampering across her floors, the beetles scurrying around under her bed. She had no idea if she would ever get to sleep. Rats were always her biggest sense of discomfort. Lady was always around to scare them away - or kill them. But she lost Lady long ago. And now she was alone in this rat-infested room. But you're not alone. A voice inside reminded her. She thought about how inappropriate it would be to go to Lord Baelish in her night clothes, let alone share a bed with him. But that was what the old Sansa would think. The girl. She wasn't a girl, she was a woman. And there was no Father, or Mother, or Robb, or Septa here to keep her from sharing a bed with Lord Baelish. Petyr. She reminded herself. While she couldn't trust him, he made her feel safe. She could trust him to make her feel safe at the very least. She would never be truly safe, but after not feeling anything for so long, it was nice to have kindness and security for a change.

Another icy shiver wracked her body as she tried to warm herself. When she heard two rats fighting one another, that settled it. She steeled herself and exited the room, crossed the hall, and stopped at his door. She thought about knocking, but she changed her mind. She opened the door to find it unlocked, and she slowly and quietly closed the door behind her. He had blown out the candle, and his steady breathing signaled he had just fallen asleep. She tiptoed her way to the bed and lifted the covers before settling in herself. Unfortunately or fortunately, she wasn't quite sure, Petyr awoke.

"Sansa? What's the matter?" He asked, sleep making his voice even more gravelly than usual.

"I-I couldn't sleep. The rats, the cold. I-" He smiled and hushed her. "It's alright." He cooed as he wrapped his arms around her, her back to his front. "I'll keep you warm," He promised. In minutes,the two were sound asleep.

When Sansa awoke just before dawn, she could feel something pressed against her bottom. Something hard. Oh! She thought, and smiled to herself. His arms tightened around her as he whispered her name and bucked his hips into her. She turned her head to look see his face, but his eyes were closed, his breathing still steady. He was dreaming about me, she thought, triumphantly. She snuggled more deeply into him and closed her eyes for a few more moments of sleep. This time, when she awoke, he was gone. In his place, she found a note and a plate of lemon cakes. The note read, Eat and dress, my sweet. We will be back on the rode shortly.She dug into the lemon cakes with ferocity, finally having something to truly satisfy her appetite. They were fresh. He must have had the kitchen make them especially for her. Another smile teased her lips. When the plate was clear of any crumbs, she went back to her room and changed back into her travelling gown before heading downstairs.

There she saw Petyr. When he looked at her, he smiled. "Good morning, Father."

"Good morning, daughter. Did you sleep well?" He said dryly, though no one could have suspected a thing.

"Very well, thank you. And thank you for breakfast."

"Anything for my beautiful daughter," he mocked, kissing her cheek. "Come, we must ride on." His hand found the small of her back as he guided her from the filthy inn. The simple touch setting her whole body on fire. She didn't know how she was going to spend more time in such a small enclosure with him now that she knew just how badly he desired her. Or if she ever let herself acknowledge just how badly she wanted him.