After falling into and obsession with Game of Thrones I really became drawn to the relationship between Sansa Stark and Petyr Baelish. The age difference is weird but she looks older in the series-so hey! Why not. I'm just intrigued with both characters and I know i'm not the only one. In the series it's unlikely for my ship to happen so naturally I came flooding to fanfiction. I don't like how Sansa is made out-I feel she is a stronger character and that there should be more friction in their relationship. I really want to write more but don't know if the idea is supported. So let me know how you feel in the reviews and tell me about your opinions and thoughts. I really want to hear from other people.

Enjoy!

The situation at Castle Bolton had gone way out of hand. Sansa would never want to wear short sleeves again, for in doing so would reveal the many bruises and slashes around her skin. Each one was painful physically-but even more so emotionally. Once again everything she had hoped for when she married failed. Ramsay Bolton had pretended to be pleasant for a while, but after Lord Baelish had left for King's Landing he turned on her.

Fortunately, Sansa was less of the soft girl she was when she had first left Winterfell. No matter how bad it got, Sansa had remained strong. Every time he beat her she tucked it away inside her mind. She did whatever he wanted, pleading sometimes. Ramsay terrified her beyond words. There were times when he was so kind and even gave her gifts. Sometimes he would go out of his way it seemed, to make her feel safe and happy. It was all spoiled by his sparks of cruelty and even more so with the pitiful appearance of her child hood friend Theon Greyjoy. She could hardly look at him and he couldn't look at her either, after watching her consummation. Yes, Sansa lamented her marriage and position but she trusted Lord Baelish and knew she could persevere.

Everything changed one morning, when Sansa woke up to find that Ramsay was not next to her in bed. With a sigh of relief she slid out from beneath the sheets. The cold air hit her bare back making her shiver and rush towards her dress that lay cast aside close to the bed. Something was going on inside her the moment she got up. The room spun and she felt a pang of sickness in her belly. Her throat began to salivate. Sansa dove towards the chamber pot, getting there just in time to heave up the contents of her stomach—again—and again-and again. Finally she backed away. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Somehow she knew then, before she had even looked in the mirror. Sansa Stark was pregnant with Ramsay's child. Sansa was quick to rid the pot of her vomit.

Sansa kept the news a secret as long as she could. One night, after claiming to feel nauseated by supper, Walda, who was also pregnant, knew. In no time at all the news carried to Ramsay.

That day Sansa dug her nails into her bed as Ramsay interrogated her. Threatening that if she had a lover, not only would he flay the lover, but he would tie Sansa to a board and flay her to. Then he would feed the baby to the dogs.

"The child is yours Ramsay, I swear."

Ramsay grabbed Sansa's face and dug his nails slightly into her skin. He smiled in twisted kind of way, looking straight into Sansa's eyes.. "I'm going to be a father."

Sansa met his gaze. Her eyes frozen with strength and nobility.

Sansa whispered."He will grow up and carry on your family name with pride."

Being so close to her, Ramsay's foul breath hit her like a brick. The slight disgust shown on Sansa's beautiful face didn't stop him for pressing his mouth to hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth. He pulled her close to him, trapping her to him with a hand on each side of her back. He hungrily slid his hands around her. His hands were warm from the gloves he had been wearing. His touch seemed to burn Sansa's skin like poison. He cupped her fair face into his right hand and stroked her cheek. Then he moved his hands back to the strings of her gown. Pulling at them in an unsympathetic way. Rather than respond, Sansa focused on the wall in front of her.

Through the misery of her marriage for the next few weeks, the thought of her child helped her keep her spirits up. Together Walda and Sansa talked about the two children growing up together. How close they'd be and what they'd be called. Every night Ramsay grew more and more suspicious. Voicing threats on what he'd do if he found her lover.
Threatening to kill the child if it was a girl and then to kill the baby if it got in the way.
He even would threaten to kill her if she got too fat or too lazy.
Sansa lay awake thinking of Cersei's words, when the Queen mother advised Sansa that her children would be what kept her happy through an unhappy marriage

Another day later when Sansa was wandering through the kitchen after an afternoon with Walda a hand reached out to grab her.

"My Lady Stark. Please come with me."

"Who are you?' Sansa gasped.

"My name is Raena and I need you to come with me."

"Is everything okay?" Sansa demanded. "Where is Ramsay."

"I don't want to tell you that, but what I can tell you—"

"Where is my husband?"

"Sansa, he's not here. But his words have been heard and carried around. He means to murder you. He wants you and your child dead."
"Those are just threats-."

"No." Sansa turned to see another man walk through the door. He looked very dirty and very nervous. "Listen my lady, we've all seen Ramsay go through several women, you're no different. He'll kill you."

"I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell. He cannot hurt me."

Raena grabbed Sansa's hand and moved her hand softly up Sansa's arm. Her hand lifted up Sansa's sleeve revealing the bruises, yellow and blue—new and old. "He already has."

Sansa took her arm away. "I said he cannot hurt me."

"You are so brave my lady." The man said. "That's why we need you alive."

To Sansa's surprise and horror he burst into tears. "You're all we have left of the Starks, the rightful family of Winterfell...Look,my sons and my daughters have been slain in front of me and I'm not the only one. All we ask is that you go into hiding. Wait until the right moment to come back and bring the true Winterfell and family name with you."

"Stannis Baratheon and his armies are due to come and take Winterfell, Lord Baelish said so himself." Sansa put her hand sympathetically on the man's shoulder. "If given the chance I will become the Wardeness of the North and I will finish the job of ridding Winterfell of its rats."

The man grabbed her hand and kissed it. "My sweet, noble Lady…but what if you were dead. You can't become anything if you have been murdered by the hands of your husband."

"You don't understand." Sansa said sadly. "If I leave I can't come back—not until Winterfell has been reclaimed"

"The odds are better that way." Raena stated.

Sansa was speechless for a moment. She was terrified, truly terrified. The thought of being anywhere else (With the exception of King's landing) sounded brilliant to her. Petyr had given her the choice to turn and run, but she didn't. Being at this castle was her chance to get vengeance on the Bolton's. It was her duty—one that Petyr Baelish had delivered to her. He believed in her it seemed. He was more than family to her now so she wanted to go through with his wishes. She wouldn't let the opportunity go to waste—one way or another.

"Give me time to think." Sansa said at last.

"You may not have time." The man sighed.

"Please, don't think too long." Raena begged.

"What, no." The man cried. "You must go now."

"I'll send for you when I have decided." Sansa stated. "She bowed and then left the room."

The next night Sansa Stark and the man, now revealed to be named Caen, ventured through the woods. The soft dusting of the snow that had fallen earlier helped light the way. Sansa went as fast as she could, trying not to feel nauseous. He hurried her into a carriage, paid the driver and the two of them got in together. The carriage and Sansa was on the way far away from Ramsay Bolton.

It was a bit after high noon. The carriage bumped on. Sansa slept roughly on the wooden carriage seat while Caen sat watch. Suddenly the carriage slowed to a halt. The sound of footsteps—a sword being unsheathed—pleading—grunts—and the sound of a body falling to the ground.
"Sansa."
"I heard it too, he's found me." Sansa said with despair. She sat straight up on the seat and tried to remain composed.
"I'm so sorry my lady. I'm so sorry." Caen grabbed a dagger and waited at the door.
"There's nothing to forgive." Sansa sighed
The door swung open and a greasy man jumped through only to have the dagger stabbed through his neck. He fell pitifully down the stairs. Dagger and all.
Ramsay peeped into the carriage and looked at Sansa. "There you are wife." He grabbed the dagger and pulled it out of his still gasping knight's neck. He then with a flip of his wrist sent the dagger flying straight and true into Caen's heart. Caen gasped Sansa's name before he fell. Sansa bit her lip and closed her eyes.
"Sansa my dear." Ramsay called. "Come here—now."
Sansa prayed to the gods and then rose to exit the carriage. "Ramsay I-."
Smack!
Sansa knew it was coming she didn't make a sound.
Ramsay grabbed her shoulder and in a stormy kind of calm said. "How dare you attempt to break my heart. You dare abandon the father to our child. You tried to take him from me."
"I had to save him from you" Sansa said lowly.
Ramsay then did something that Sansa didn't see coming. With a woosh he sent his fist into her gut. Sansa bent over in anguish. He hit her again.
"Stop! You'll kill him!."
"Do NOT give me orders!"
"Please."
Ramsay carried on.

A half a mile away Lady Brienne and Podrick sparred inside the shelter of the trees. He had yet to achieve victory but even Lady Brienne would agree that he was improving.

"There just might be enough man in you to make a good knight after all."

Podrick took this as a compliment and proceeded to remove his sweaty jacket.

"Wait-." Said Lady Brienne. "Do you hear…"

The sound of a woman's cry carried over to them.

"Lady Sansa's in trouble." Lady Brienne gasped. She quickly sheathed her sword and made a break for the source of the sound. With a sigh Podrick ran after her, struggling to put his jacket back on.

"Unhand her!" Lady Brienne cried as she came upon Ramsay pushing Sansa up against the carriage. Sansa gritted her teeth, but still remained strong.

"I am Lord Ramsay Bolton , since you obviously don't know. Leave. Now. Before I slice you up through your pretty armor."

"That there is Sansa Stark."

"Once, but now she is my wife. She belongs to me and she belongs to the Bolton name. The Starks are no more."

"You've put your filthy hands on her, now let her go."

Ramsay grabbed his sword from his sheath and pressed the tip against Sansa's neck. Brienne swallowed and held her sword more firmly.

"Walk away now, or I will kill her."

At that moment Podrick leaped from behind the trees and chunked a stone at Ramsay's head. It hit him with a Thunk! Sansa took her chance and kneed him with a good amount of strength. Having her chance she hurried to Brienne's side. Brienne didn't waste time. In a hurry she had her sword against his breast.

Rather than look afraid Ramsay stared right into Brienne's eyes. "Do it, and see what happens to you."

"I have sworn an oath to protect the stark girls."

Ramsay smirked "Even if you did kill me, my father will find out. Your death with be slow. You're oath is worthless, Sansa is mine and the property of the Bolton name.

"I will now break her from your chains" Brienne thrusted her sword straight through Ramsay.

Ramsay laughed and then fell silent.

Sansa gasped.

"Oh my gods." Podrick gasped.

Brienne wiped the blood off of her sword before returning it to her sheath. When she turned and saw Sansa doubled over in pain, her heart fell.

"My lady!"