Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire, GRRM does.
Author's Note: This is the ninth fic in my one-word prompt series. No scenes of a sexual nature, but there might be a sequel…
It was mesmerizing, watching the fire dance in its cage of stone and mortar. Sansa stared at it and felt its warmth creep into her bones. The Eyrie was cold in a way that Winterfell had never been.
There, she had been surrounded by her family and friends, cradled in the happiness they provided.
Here, there was nothing but high walls and strange faces, except for Lord Baelish.
His was the only familiar face, and yet his countenance had changed as well. What had once been an open and conciliatory face had become closed and predatory. He gazed on her like a fox did a chicken coop, licking his lips and preparing to strike.
She felt his eyes following her, felt the press of his hand against her waist, felt his breath in her hear as he whispered of plots and betrayals. What she feared to admit in her heart of hearts was that she enjoyed his attentions, had come to crave them. Lord Baelish's possessive gaze never failed to send a shiver up her spine while heat pooled in her belly.
This lust was shameful, unnatural, but every time Lord Baelish grasped her hand or kissed her cheek, she would come undone. He knew, she was sure of it. His smile was too knowing, his caresses lingered too long.
Sansa was aware, though, that Lord Baelish would do anything to win this game of thrones, and her current state of virginity was far too powerful a tool to waste between the sheets with him. For now, anyway.
She was sure that his resolve would be the first to break. Lord Baelish prided himself on his patience, his desire to wait and play the long game usually outweighed his other desires, but she knew he could be impulsive. His actions regarding her Aunt Lysa were proof of that, and if she wanted to, she could find a way to push him over the edge and into her bed.
However, as much as Sansa wanted to discover what the tittering of servants and the smirks of the Queen Regent were about, she also wanted to survive, to see this game played out to its end. To achieve that goal, she had to dance to Lord Baelish's tune, and he was a notoriously fiendish piper.
So, she would be silent and still, and she would sip from his cup of intrigue, all the while waiting for the moment when she could act. And in that moment she would witness Lord Baelish's eyes burn hotter than the fire that blazed before her know.
That moment could not come too soon.