Blackbird
Author's Note:
Firstly and obviously, I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire or Game of Thrones and anything you recognise from either I make no claim to. That honour belongs to George R.R. Martin and HBO and may they have joy of it. Secondly, I have not read the books past A Storm of Swords so if elements of Blackbird are incorrect or in ignorance of the literature and vex you, then I apologise. Usually in this domain I prefer Tyrion/Sansa as a pairing (do check out my story Tyche), but during 4x07 this idea came to me and I do like the dynamic between Eyrie-Sansa and Baelish. This story is very centric on their relationship and attitude to Westeros and tells their story rather than the story of the 'verse as Martin does. I have fully planned how I want the story to go and I anticipate that it will conclude in Part Six, so don't expect an epic, but be assured it will be finished. Please do review it and send me criticism, as I am always glad to receive it and enjoy this little dabble of mine.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.
~ Music and lyrics by Lennon & McCartney
Part One
"Take charge of your life for as long as it lasts...that is what it means to be Lord of the Vale."
I heard 'my uncle' speak those words to my cousin as I stepped around the archway into view. His lilting voice had that hypnotising tone of deep-rooted wisdom and venomous danger that so entrammelled me. Sansa Stark had spoken to Petyr Baelish for the first time in King's Landing at the Hand's Tourney but Alayne Stone, the nobody, the free woman, had only met Petyr Baelish, her saviour, when he stole her away from the Purple Wedding to liberty.
Now, I am Alayne Stone and my raven-black hair and black gown which accents my newly formed womanly curves give evidence to the disappearance of the girl once known as Sansa Stark. As I enter the throne room of The Eyrie and my eyes meet those of he who saved me from my Lannister husband and captors. I hold myself tall and glide down the steps, uncaring for the boy that Lord Baelish has orphaned. There is something in my lord's eyes that pulls my gaze as I approach. It is not care as a parent would for a child. It is not love as a husband bears his wedded wife. It is not anger as a pimp feels towards his whores. No, indeed. It is lust. It is unadulterated, unashamed desire.
I remember his words clearly when he claimed my beauty outshone that of his beloved Catelyn Tully, my mother when I still was a Stark girl and the kiss he planted on my untouched virgin's lips. Every moment he pressed his lips to mine, I felt his need for me everywhere on my body. I felt his hardness against my belly, I felt the heat in his lips against mine, I felt his hands hold my alabaster cheeks, unwilling to let me go. It had been so long since I experienced someone, anyone desire me for more than my name and the titles and lands that accompany it. Joffrey felt no yearning for the softness and beauty my body had to offer him. Tyrion had his whore and was too gallant to display his want for me to my own person, and Robin - to whom my aunt foolishly thought I'd tie myself - was too young even to be aware of what it was to long for a woman's flesh.
All I can think now as my shoes click on the harsh stone floor and I come within his reach is how I long to feel that strength of emotion from the man I long to be grateful to for his saving me. Once Robin Arryn is safely away in Runestone, there will be nothing to stand between an alliance of names, minds and bodies between Alayne Stone and Petyr Baelish.
When I was less than a foot away, Petyr released his hold on Robin and elegantly proffered his arm to me.
"Shall we go?" I say with a confidence newly discovered, taking his arm and leaving a confused Lord Arryn in our wakes as we stride away from the moon door with our matching black trains billowing behind us.
Delivering Robin to Yohn Royce was tedious and was nothing but wailing and whining, so much so that Petyr and Yohn had to find some poor wet nurse in the youngest Royce children's nursery to present the Lord of the Vale her teat for him to suckle and calm himself. It was obscene and I had quit the receiving chamber in which the older men watched as Robin was breastfed, unable to watch as one who might have been my lord husband acted as does an infant.
"We can return to The Eyrie now, my lady." Petyr said, entering the small antechamber behind me.
"And what should we do when we reach it?" I asked coquettishly, not turning to meet his eyes that I now knew always brimmed with lust when they fell upon me.
I heard him walk slowly up to me, until I sensed his body so close to me but aloof, as was his nature, and he proposed, "Let's speak about that in the carriage. This minute, all I can think of is leaving this cursed place and that mewling pup of Lysa's here to return to The Eyrie...with you."
"Then, I would hate to deny you, Lord Baelish. We should depart so that we may arrive home as soon as possible."
I turned swiftly so that he would not see the traitorous blush creeping up from the peaks of my breasts to my cheeks displaying my desire for my companion. When I took his hand firmly in mine, I led him away, not sparing a glance for Robin, still in the wet nurse's embrace or Yohn, who looked at his new ward in disgust. All that mattered was the man I would be going home with and what would be said between us during the journey back to our castle.
Once we boarded the carriage and were sheathed in a sheep's wool blanket to keep out the cold, wrapped up intimately together, I met Petyr's eyes for the first time since we took Robin away from his ancestral home.
"What are you doing, Sansa?" He asked, feeling me inch towards him underneath the blanket.
"Don't call me Sansa. Sansa Stark is dead."
Petyr grasped my hand and looked about, "No. She's very much alive and sits beside me here. And we are alone, my lady. It is quite safe here. No harm will come to you if I call you by your name here. You need not be Alayne Stone all the time."
"What if I want to be? What if all I want is to be Alayne Stone?"
"Why should you wish to? Alayne Stone is nobody…"
I smiled at this, at Petyr's overwhelming desire for power and position which eclipsed everything else, "That is the point. No one is hunting Alayne Stone. Alayne Stone is free, whereas Sansa Stark has no future of liberty, merely one of loss and sadness. Sansa would have to return to Winterfell as a captive and chattel, but Alayne can remain in The Eyrie and be free to love and live."
"To love, my lady?"
"Yes," I reply, watching as his pupils dilate in anticipation and his grip tighten, "Sansa was a foolish chit who fell in love with a monster. Alayne is not so foolish a woman. I have made a much more prudent choice in the matter of to whom I wish to give myself. He is a man who has the capacity to do monstrous things to achieve his goals, but I have seen the good in him, the strength he has, strength that wasn't given to him by his blood. You, Petyr, Lord Baelish, have done deplorable things to my family and the Seven Kingdoms for your own gain and I have hated you for them. Sansa hated you for betraying her father and for giving Joffrey whores to mutilate without regard for their suffering, but when you survived you taught me what is necessary to survive in this world. I have since done terrible things. I abandoned a husband who was a friend to me when no other was to a horrible execution for a crime he had no part in, I singlehandedly put my family in front of the Lannisters and their enemy just so I could be Queen. I have acted and lived without honour, without conscience for so long that I can no longer truthfully call myself a Stark. My father's honour got him killed and I will have no part in something that will spell my end. So, I can no longer be a Stark. Better to be a Stone and survive without honour than die an honourable death. I want to live, Petyr, and I want to live as Alayne Stone but more importantly, I want to be yours. You created me as Alayne, you spirited me away from a life as the Imp's wife, the butt of the citadel's jokes and Lannister wrath. I am a new person because of you alone and I am yours and only you will have me. I have been made out of what was left to Sansa Stark: the beauty of Catelyn Tully, the wit of Tyrion Lannister, the heart of Eddard Stark, the cruelty of Joffrey Baratheon and the chicanery of Petyr Baelish."
Once his name had fallen from my lips, I could say no more. I was silenced as his lips covered mine and kissed me ferociously, with all the lust and love he held for me pouring into me as he ravaged my lips mercilessly. I let myself creep onto his lap and straddle him, yearning as I was to feel every inch of his body beneath mine, as we headed back to The Eyrie, to our life together and our destiny.
"My lord," I interrupted, finding breath hard to come by and words harsh to say through bruised lips, "when we return to The Eyrie, let us be married before the Old Gods. I want the Vale. I want to rule the Vale at your side as Alayne Baelish. And, later, when we have built up our army and forged alliances through our children, I want to recapture the North and rule the North and the Vale as King and Queen. It is my birthright and that I will never forget no matter what name I have. Do you accept me as your lady, wife and lover and as your Queen?"
Petyr leant towards me and kissed me chastely on the lips but smiled, and did so without guile or subterfuge, and said, "Yes, Alayne, I accept you and will take you to wife and furthermore, I vow to you that you will rule the North again and our children will inherit it."