Sansa doesn`t know what to do, that is, she doubts being capable of doing anything, really. How to respond? There`s a growing sense of helplessness…a strong temptation to stop dusting herself off whenever things fall apart, to stop carrying on seemingly unharmed while her wounds are bleeding furiously torn red drops. Learned, hopeless footsteps drifting decisively towards giving up on this sick game that threatens, that harms, that kills in so many ways.

'Open the door'. Nothing more than a whisper pouring into her room, through the lifeless piece of wood she bars with her own body, a plea she doesn`t know what to make of. Her ear deciphers the sincerity in it, even though it comes from a most insincere person. 'Yet he saved you an awful lot of times…but now he wants to marry you off. Again. For his own personal benefit.'

She wishes they were smarter, capable of finding another way out of this crumbling mess of deceits. But she, alone, cannot. And it seems his mind is made up. So why not let him in? She couldn`t stay locked up forever, but she`d very much prefer to, like a porcelain doll behind cold, familiar castle walls.

'But I am not porcelain. I am steel. I fought so hard in my own way. Too hard to give up now.' So she carefully picks up the remaining shreds of her dignity, glues them together and opens the door.

He is standing there, hands covering his face, having seemingly lost any hope of reasoning with her. And now that she seems calmer, willing to hear him speak his impressive load of words in order to convince her of the necessity of their move, he finds out he cannot. What could he say? What unfamiliar truth could his lips utter, what could be enough to console her( and himself), to reason with her( and him) and to ultimately change her mind?

For the first time in many, many years, Petyr cannot think of anything.

' I would. I swear I would. Without a doubt, even if it meant seeking the annulment of your false marriage, back in King`s Landing.'

'You would what?' she repeats, incredulous. It`s not what she expected, not at all. He seems like a scholar who forgot his lesson, like Petyr Baelish, not Littlefinger.

'Marry you. Today. Without stranger`s consent, without guests or wedding banquets. Because we don`t need them, we`re above them.'

'And instead you command me to marry someone else. Petyr. You are a liar, you are just like them, the vermin of King`s Landing, always deceiving others for your imaginary purposes.'

'I saved your life, ungrateful child. But no, you`re not a child, we taught you too well. It pains me. More than it should really, because you clearly don`t care about me at all, yet it does. Because I wanted to take you away from them, to open your eyes and teach you how to play this silly game better than anyone else. It`s not my fault it is all spinning out of control, out of my hands. Everything.'

'But you want everything' she almost yells. 'You want it all ,don`t you? You said so yourself on the ship, while you caressing me. You want the world to spin out of your hands just so you can regain it, to control everything even more, no matter the consequences for others, the despair you leave behind.'

'I am aware of the consequences of everything I do, but…'

The next statement, spoken decisively, as if it`s common knowledge, as if she is so sure of it that she could bet her life on its truthfulness, shatters his train of thought and interrupts his already rambling sentence.

'And you want me.'

She stands taller, closer to him, aware of the fact that he`s staring at her, unsure of himself, of whether to explain or let it go. But she won`t let it hang in the air so easily, ready to be forgotten.

'You do want me. I feel it in your stare, I read it in your touch, I am aware of it in the way you talk. This is the real reason why you saved me, why you even bothered to think of my rescue. Because I remind you of my mother. And you want me since you couldn`t have her. Second chance, right? It surprises me that you could be so unselfish as to marry me of, given the immense opportunity you have to relive your passion for her. But there`s also a game, isn`t it? The politics, the lies, the wrong. It`s worth it, really?'

'What could he say to that? It is true, partially. She reminds him of Cat, she is desirable, he wants her, but that doesn`t even begin to cover the extent of his feelings for her, of the damage and reconstruction she has simultaneously made in his life.

'I do.' He takes her roughly by the chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes as he reiterates her accusations. 'I do. Very much. Insanely much, actually.'

'So what, my sweet girl? As you coldly pointed out, I am, unfortunately, low born. Much too low born to expect anything from you rather than polite conversation. My apologies for believing that your kisses and caresses where something more than polite, excuse me for extending my disgusting advances towards your delicate highborn self and allow me to assure that it is not likely to happen again.'

She looks hurt, again. But he cannot help it, the familiar pang of unworthiness he feels at her veiled rejection, at her silent confrontation and probable disgust at him.

'But let me ask you one single question, Why then, when I offer you a chance to escape this captivity, to live far away from my kisses and wants and marry a highborn with a solid claim to the Vale, handsome and charming like a knight from your songs, you lock yourself in your chamber and refuse to talk to me again?'

She looks taken aback, as if she hasn`t considered that Petyr`s offer meant in a way the coming true of her childhood fantasy of marrying a handsome knight in a faraway land. Because she hasn`t. Not in a long, long time, except maybe with condescendence for the impossible dreams of King`s Landing. She has known all along, ever since she came to the Vale, that the time of fairytales had passed, drowned in blood, beatings and humiliation.

'Because I want you too.'

He laughs then, refusing to believe her. 'After everything you`ve said to me today, you expect me to believe your jape? Sweetling, I am a grown man, after all.'

'I know. And this is why I want you. You have power, you have a past full of crimes and deceit, you have the ability to do whatever you want to me. Yet you`ve shown me a strange sort of kindness, which, by the way you`ve defended yourself earlier, I now believe sincere. And I do. Even though I really shouldn`t, despite my better judgment and my own mind, I do. I know the Game requires a mind, but it takes a heart to want. And mine is full for you. This is why I don`t want to marry Harry the Heir, not one bit.

Petyr wonders if he has lost his mind. Completely, totally. He wants to laugh, cry, rewrite the past, forget the future. He wants to go insane because, like Sansa said, it takes a heart to want. It`s incredibly good he still has one.