I would just like to point out that I do not own any characters in this fic, all credibility goes to the great George R R Martin!

Also, the lemon scene in this is partly the same as one in my other fic, so apologies to anyone for that! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story, and leave comments and all that jazz! Love always xx


Chapter One - Arriving at the Eyrie

Her hands were cold, as she walked through the ankle deep snow. Small pieces of ice floated around her, as she walked toward the garden, now covered in ice. Sansa's beautiful auburn coloured hair hung low around her face, contrasting well to the outside, and warming her flushed cheeks. She had just arrived at the Eyrie, made a perilous climb to the top of the mountain, and was finally free; Cersei could not catch her now, though her heart wept for her husband. The look of utter shock was the last thing she saw of him, and would surely haunt her in her dreams.

Tyrion was a good man, she thought to herself. Yes, he had married her, even though she didn't want to, but at least he consummated her marriage with delicacy. It had hurt of course, but her deflowering was handled well, he was slow, and made sure not to hurt her. That was what hurt Sansa most, the fact that he had been nothing but kind to her, yet now was to receive a sentence worse than death. It was not fair.

Her breath caught in her throat as she sat down on one if the seats, covered in ice. Winterfell, she thought, such a resemblance. The time flew in the garden, and soon she found herself recreating Winterfell, but miniature version, and in the snow. Her fingers prodded the ice sculpture, and she almost missed the footsteps approaching. Sansa was so caught up in attempting to make the bridge of the castle, she didn't notice Lord Baelish standing next to her. He crouched down wordlessly, and began to help her.

His hands were warm, the complete opposite of her own, and she began to wonder about the man next to her. Sansa's thoughts were cut short as he began to speak. "The weather is freezing out here, and I can't contemplate as to why you want to stay out here much longer. Come inside, and I shall start a fire." He said huskily. They both stood, whilst Petyr snaked his arm around her waist and guided her through the heavy wooden doors. She liked his touch, for all the things people said about him, Petyr was one of the few people whom she felt completely safe with.

"Where is Lady Lysa? I have not seen her since we arrived, and surely it would not be proper to reside here, without meeting the person who is in charge of it?" Sansa asked, peering up at him through heavy eyelashes. He looked down at her as they walked through a long corridor, "My lady will be absent from us for the next two moons. She is attending business at Riverrun, which means that I am acting Lord on her behalf." He said plainly, though something in his grey-green eyes made Sansa get the impression that he was happy about it.

They arrived at his solar, and he let go of her to open the door, gesturing her forward. His solar was bright, and had windows in the ceiling, which allowed Sansa to breathe fresh air, and see without the help of candles. There was a heavy oak table in the centre of the room, with large backed chairs that stood around it. At the far left corner were cabinets filled with papers and scrolls alike, and next to it lay a desk; filled with ink and quills, as well as spare pieces of paper. Sansa assumed that was where Petyr spent most of his time.

A roaring fireplace grabbed Sansa's attention, it emitted brilliant orange flames, and the coals glowed a bright red colour. It was in the wall, at the end if the table, and surrounding it were huge sofas, filled with gold and white coloured pillows. The room all in all was spacious and comfortable, Sansa hoped she would spent a lot of time here, especially with him.

Petyr walked to the table and held out a chair for his guest; the one to the right of the head. She walked toward him, and then noticed all the food on the table. There was every type of fruit laid out, accompanied by cheese. Both dry and sweet crackers lay amongst, and to Sansa's delight, in the middle was a tray of the most decadent looking lemon cakes she had ever seen!

Petyr pulled out a chair for himself, and sat down at the head of the table; close to her. A maid entered the room, Sansa imagined that she could be no older than 11, as she began to pour the two some spiced wine. She took hers thankfully, and drew the goblet to her mouth, sipping deeply. By the time she put the cup down, her plate was full and the small girl was no where to be found. Sansa looked up at Petyr, who had a smirk plastered on his face. "Try not to get too drunk before the sun goes down." He said with humour in his voice, which caused Sansa to blush deeply.

She placed her cup down, and began eating her food. "What shall I do, now that I am here?" She asked Petyr, who was sipping at his own goblet. "Well, Lysa is absent, as is her sickly son Robert. So, for now you will be free to do as you please, but when they return, you will be asked to look after the boy." Sansa grimaced, to which Petyr replied "It shan't be too bad, I thought you were a maternal woman."

"I do love children, Lord Baelish, truly. But I am told that Lord Robin is quite a handful, what if I fail?" Petyr noted the worried tone in her voice and placed a hand on top of hers, which lied on the table. "Sansa, you are very beautiful, and I am sure that you are capable enough to handle Robert, but if not, your motherly instincts will tell you what you need to do. And please, call me Petyr."

Sansa smiled at him, and held his hand, as he traced circle on the back of hers, with his thumb. "I haven't thanked you yet, for saving me. You risked so much, when I know you would rather be doing other things." Petyr moved closer to her. "You have been so kind to me, and the thought of how much you could have lost hurts me dearly." She said, not one part being a lie.

He looked at her, and expression written on his face, though Sansa couldn't tell if it was happiness, worry, or something else. "You are right." He said, and the look on her face, one of clear confusion pushed him forward. "About what you just said, I do want other things, and what I would rather be doing, is this..." He grabbed the back of her neck, and his other hand snaked down to the small of her waist. Petyr's lips crashed against hers, and she stiffened, but almost instantly reacted. She grabbed his shoulder, and with her other hand, pushed herself up using the corner of the table. He stood with her and now that they were up, he pulled her to him, there bodies pressing together.

Her lips worked against his, as he fought to dominate. Sansa's lips opened to allow Petyr's roaming tongue to enter; He tasted like mint and cinnamon, and she tasted like honey. A moan could be heard, and Petyr responded to it, pushing her against the wall. He refrained his kiss, and looked back into her eyes. They were bright blue, completely the opposite of his penetrating orbs, filled with lust. Sansa held no sign of struggle, or worry, so Petyr continued his ministrations. He held both hands on her waist, and his form loomed over hers, kissing passionately. His hands gently moved backwards and sat on her behind. He squeezed her cheeks, to which she replied by pressing her pelvis forward, and letting out a loud groan.

She felt hardness pressing against her thigh, and smirked at the thought of it. One of Petyr's hands moved up, and groped her right breast, while the other steadied himself on the wall behind her. He let out a deep growl as he felt her nipples harden. Sansa moved her hand over his chest, and slowly started to move further south. She slide her hand down into his breeches, and cupped his hardness. Petyr suddenly groaned and his breath hitched; involuntarily his hips jerked forward, and he looked deeply into her bright blue eyes.

"Sansa, are you sure you want me to take you?" He asked, though it was clear how much he wanted to. "I know everyone is aware that Tyrion and I never consummated the marriage, however, that was a lie." Sansa blushed. Petyr stopped what he was doing and looked at her intently, "You let him be your first? No matter, I will show you how it should feel like."

Suddenly, he picked her up and carried her bridal style through the solar door, and into his rooms. When he arrived at his four poster bed, he threw her (rather unceremoniously) onto the bed, and climbed in on top of her. He looked at her on the bed, with glazed eyes, it was plain how much he wanted her. He unlaced his pants and let them fall to the floor, now left in just his underpants. Sansa felt very special, as his manhood was tented - all for her! He crawled onto the bed and laid on top of Sansa, one leg on either side if hers, his hands supporting himself above her head. Petyr leaned down, and gave a chaste kiss, which became more passionate each time he gave one.

Sansa's hands found their way into his back, pulling him closer. As his tongue worked in her mouth, he reached down and unclad per her bra with one hand. She retreated her hands and sat up, but before she could cover herself, Petyr grabbed her wrists and whispered in her ear "Don't, your beautiful."

Sansa put her hands down, and Petyr looked at her, his expression was one of absolute pure amazement. He grabbed the back of her head with one hand and laid her back down, while the other hand pressed on her stomach. He was back kissing her again, never getting enough. His hand roamed up and massaged her left breast, she moaned and arched her back into him, and he smiled. He flicked one of her nipples with his thumb "Oh Gods!" She yelled, and Petyr looked into her Tully blue eyes. "Would you like more?" he teased, and all Sansa could do to reply was moan. He traced her stomach down to the top of her panties, to which she opened her eyes wide, looking worried. "Don't fret, my dear beauty. You are safe with me." She rested her head down on the pillow again yet wasn't quite as comfortable as before.

His hand slipped into her knickers and he moaned as he felt her wetness. One of his fingers ran along her slit, and stopped at her hard nub. "Dear Gods!" Sansa screamed and held onto Petyr tightly. He was relishing in the feeling if being able to make her feel this way, and loved how she clung to him. His fingers started tracing circles on her clit which elicited more loud moans, and Sansa started rocking her hips into him.

Once she was wet enough, Petyr removed his hand. Sansa stopped stroking and Petyr stood off the bed, removed his underwear and stood there. As naked as his nameday. Sansa stared in awe, "Your huge!" Petyr just smirked, and laid back on the bed. He gently removed her panties and they were both completely naked. He pressed his warm body on top of his, and started to kiss her. At this point, it was purely need that drove the kisses, and once it was too much, he whispered in her ear "Are you ready to be mine, my beautiful Sansa?" "Oh, dear gods! Yes Petyr...take me!" Was her needy reply.

He crawled down her body, hands leaving prickles in her skin, wherever they touched. He spread her legs open, and placed himself at her entrance. Petyr stretched back up to Sansa's level and looked into her eyes, flicking her clit as he watched her. "Are you ready?" "Gods..Yes, do it!"

With another look into her eyes, he thrust his hips forward and plunged into her, moaning at the feeling of being inside of her. However that moan was drowned out by Sansa's heart wrenching scream. She lifted her head, and buried her face into his shoulder, and hugging his back so tightly, it was sure to leave a mark. He embraced her, held her, for he knew the pain she was in and it was all for him. She was his, had given herself to him, her innocence, there was no better thought than that. She gently let go, and fell back onto the pillow, he held her cheek as she adjusted to his size. "My dear, are you okay?" "Yes, you are with me, my love." At that reply, Petyr started to move inside her, in and out until Sansa's whimpers because moans of pleasure.

She struggled to find her voice, "Harder," she said and that was all it took. Petyr grabbed her waist and filled her with him, right to the hilt. "Ohhh... Fuck!" He yelled, at finally being fully inside her. His yell was met with a moan, as there was no more pain in it for Sansa, just pure ecstasy. She moved her hips up, to join his thrusts, and Petyr placed his elbows on either side of her face, above her shoulders. He looked into her eyes, and could tell how much pleasure there was, for he felt it as well. He began a rhythm, thrusting in time. Petyr was close, he could feel it, however he wanted Sansa to release before him so he moved his finger down and started rubbing her sweet spot. She was trembling and moaning already, so when the touch came, she gripped his back, her nails digging in. "Ahhh" his thrusts became erratic.

The pleasure finally taking over her, she came to her climax. "PETYR!" She screamed and clenched her walls around his throbbing member. At hearing her name, Petyr grabbed her hips and slammed into her, thrusting hard and fast. "Oh, Petyr, oh Petyr..." She mumbled, which was heaven in his ears. Petyr knew it was him making her cum, his name she was shouting, and that was what brought him over the edge screaming "Sansa!" as he filled her with his hot seed. They both jerked in their orgasms and Petyr pulled out, he lay down next to her, lying on his side. Sansa lay on her side as well, staring into the depth of Petyrs eyes, she smiled an so did he.