First Petyr/Sansa fic, I'm a bit nervous...
Some people interpret the poem literally, but most people believe that the vampire is an addiction (most likely a prostitute). I decided to treat the vampire of the poem metaphorically, so no, Sansa doesn't have fangs here (although she would totally rock a pair of those).
English is not my native language and this story is unbeta'd, so there might be some mistakes.
Cover made by hislotuseater on tumblr.
Thou who abruptly as a knife
Didst come into my heart; thou who,
A demon horde into my life,
Didst enter, wildly dancing, through
The doorways of my sense unlatched
To make my spirit thy domain -
Harlot to whom I am attached
As convicts to the ball and chain,
As gamblers to the wheel's bright spell,
As drunkards to their raging thirst,
As corpses to their worms - accurst,
Be thou! Oh, be thou damned to hell!
I have entreated the swift sword
To strike, that I at once be freed;
The poisoned phial I have implored
To plot with me a ruthless deed
Alas! the phial and the blade
Do cry aloud and laugh at me:
"Thou art not worthy of our aid;
Thou are not worthy to be free"
"Though one of us should be the tool
To save thee from thy wretched fate,
Thy kisses would resuscitate
The body of thy vampire, fool!"
"The Vampire" by Charles Baudelaire
She is so lovely. Sometimes he wishes he had never met her.
He first became attracted to her because of her resemblance to her mother. Catelyn. His Cat. His only love. His obsession. He had tried so hard to get over Catelyn, but his infatuation was resurrected at the sight of her daughter.
It got stronger as time went by. As Sansa grew up, she became more beautiful than her mother had ever been. And he could not stay away.
Her mother is dead now, but she is still very much alive. And she is with him. He saved her from her enemies, the dangerous family of her deranged boyfriend. He made her dye her hair brown so that she would not be recognised (she was known for her fiery locks) and change her name to Alayne, but she is still Sansa deep down.
Her mother was wicked; she is innocent. This is one of the things that draw him to her so strongly. In spite of everything that has happened to her, she is still the gentle soul that she used to be. Part of him wants to corrupt her and make her like him; another part of him worships her like men worship the Maiden.
He knows that she does not feel the same way about him as he does about her. He steals kisses from her (her rosy lips are impossible to resist) and although she does not push him away, not even once, he knows that she does not enjoy it like he does. Maybe she feels that she owes him for saving her and so denies him nothing. Perhaps, always being the proper lady, she believes that it would be discourteous and terrible of her to react negatively to his advances. He doesn't want to think about her reasons too much; he wants to keep things simple, to pretend that she wants him as much as he wants her.
He thought that he did not want Catelyn anymore, but when Sansa entered his life so abruptly everything changed. He knows now that he still loves Catelyn, just as he knows that, in his own twisted way, he loves Sansa. Catelyn is dead, but the addiction is still present. He still thinks of Catelyn – once he almost used her name when he addressed Sansa, so now he prefers less intimate terms of endearment like "sweetling" and "darling" – and he is obsessed with Sansa.
Somehow, along the way, Sansa became more than just Catelyn's replacement. She is his weakness. He knows that he won't stop feeling like this for her. There were a few times when he considered killing her. She would be out of his life forever, and he would no longer have a weakness that someone could use against him.
However, he could not do it. He could not murder such beauty. She had, unwillingly and without even trying, seduced him completely. She had taken over his heart. She has it in her delicate hand and can do what she wants with it. He cannot escape.
Perhaps he should kill himself. Perhaps that is his way out. And yet, he can't do that either. He values his life too much to take it. And he cannot deprive himself of seeing Sansa, of being with Sansa, of touching Sansa.
He has taken up drinking now. He tries to drown his problems in alcohol. The amber colour of bourbon reminds him of her auburn hair, and sometimes he sees her reflection in the scotch. Sometimes it's too much for him to take and all he wants to do is go to her room and have his way with her.
He never does it. Like the perfect fool that he is for her, he wants her to be willing. He wants her to want it, to want him, and not to just play her part like a good dutiful girl.
He knows that he is trapped. He drowns in the ocean of her brilliantly blue eyes. His name sounds like music when it comes from her lips, and her voice is a melody. His heart beats faster when he holds her, when she sits on his lap, when he kisses her.
He is doomed. All the alcohol in the world cannot change the situation he is in. He is a junkie, addicted to her. He knows that she is slowly tearing him apart, breaking him, destroying him; he knows that the way he feels about her will be his undoing, that it will bring his downfall when someone manages to use her against him although he has always been so meticulous about his planning, despite always being steps ahead of everyone.
He can't be liberated. He is drawn to her like a moth is drawn to the flame. Even though her hair is now brown, she is his fire and she burns him. There is nothing he can do in order to be free. Perhaps, because of all the things that he has done, he doesn't deserve to be free.
As he claims another kiss from her, he decides that he doesn't mind his sweet prison. He doesn't mind going down if he can have his temptress, his seductress. Sansa.
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