SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY

PART 1

He had waited until she laid herself out for him, her throat bared like the little wolf she is. He waited like the mature lion he is: he enjoyed having her, but would never act as though he needed her. It was she who needed him.

Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

Some fool had said that, in the days before. What did he know? Tywin Lannister had the power of life or death over millions and he enjoyed it as much as he enjoyed the girl, and in the same cold-hearted way.

Stark's daughter, he scoffs haughtily: how the honourable have fallen. Stark was one of the first to be round up when the regime came to power: a war hero, he was one of those too idealistic, or too stupid, to know that democracy was a failure and the masses were stupid morons. They needed guidance and control to maintain order; and Tywin Lannister loved order. He could herd them about like sheep…like the girl.

He looks down on her, leaning back naked over his great desk, and laughs cruelly.

"They all think you are so pure and innocent," he mocks. She is a beautiful girl, with long legs, a small waist and full breasts; but it is her face, her sweet, vulnerable smile and deep blue eyes that entrance men.

She opens those eyes at that, and has the decency to look ashamed.

"My father was a traitor to the regime, Herr Lannister," she tells him sadly, "No one thinks of me as innocent."

"That's because you're not," he counters snidely. "Look at you: you're a whore with open legs for any man who says he'll protect you. Trant…Clegane…" He names the men under him whom he knows have had her. Normally, he would have had such a girl fired, if not sent to a camp for re-education, or worse; but this one…this one he had wanted for himself. "They can't keep you safe, only I can…if I want to. Do you think I should want to?"

"Please, Herr Lannister…" she murmurs.

"I can't hear you, girl: speak up," he barks.

"Please…please, Herr Lannister," she pleads softly. "I will to whatever it is you wish…to please you. I only want to be loyal…and safe. My father-"

"Your father was a traitor and you're a whore. Now spread your legs and shut your mouth."

Though she complies, he slaps her for good measure, and her head falls back in some kind of weak ecstacy. The lower classes, the lesser races, women: treat them half like dirt and half like children and they love you for it. He thrust hard and fast into her, gripping her hair and her throat when she moans and sighs too much; women should submit to want and not be a slave to it; and so he slaps her again harder when he is done with her.

"You're a slut."

She blinks and drops her eyes. "Y-yes, I'm sorry, Herr Lannister. Please forgive me."

"Clean this up." He means his desk: the blotter is crooked now and some papers have fallen to the carpet. Tywin zips his fly and straightens his tie and walks away to pour himself a drink. They play this same scene over every time she comes at night with the locked bag sent by the ministry. His second-in-command, Herr Baelish warned him not to trust her, but Tywin knows she is weak and scared and foolish. Besides, he has Clegane drive her to his home and escort her to his library. She is nevernot watched. And Clegane's presence gives him more reason to mistreat her. After all, she did have relations the big ugly dog before him after Clegane took her from Trant. Brainless thugs, the both of them: no wonder she is so meek and compliant. Any vestiges of Stark idealism or heroism had surely been beaten out of her long before he began. And if not…well, the girl Shae had tried to use and betray him and had died screaming: he had Payne see to her after he was done. This one…in time, he might turn her over to the Mountain, since she had a taste for Cleganes, after he had tortured her himself. If she thought he liked hearing her beg now…

"Aren't you done yet, girl?" he demands as he turns back around. She is half-dressed and busy straightening the papers that had fallen.

"I am sorry, Herr Lannister," she stammers.

"You're stupid as well as a slut," he pronounces.

"I- I never got to finish school, Herr Lannister," she offers as an apology.

Of course not, he thinks, you were busy running. After her father was executed, the whole family went into hiding. Herr Frey offered to shelter the mother and eldest son but it had been a trap. Herr Greyjoy got the younger boys and their servants. Only the bastard remained and they had sent him to the Northern front to fight; and finally the daughter…oh, there had been another, a little girl, but she was doubtlessly dead too. That left Sansa, who had been forced to take the name Snow; so there were to be no more Starks to trouble him, and she had been indoctrinated and sent to work for the ministry where she could be used as an example for the regime…and easily watched and eliminated if necessary. It was a deliberately low position so she would needs ingratiate herself to her betters which she did by falling on her back like a stupid little whore. Only Baelish was rebuffed; apparently he had bedded her mother; at least to hear him tell it. Baelish was a slick toady, only to be used but never trusted…same as Sansa. Beautiful and weak and pliant she may be but she was still the enemy.

"Go on now. I'm a busy man, Get dressed and go. Clegane is waiting for you."

"Yes, Herr Lannister. Thank you."

He watches her straighten her garters and smooth down her dress before looking around for her bag. She scampers to pick it up and walks to the library door in her red high-heeled shoes, a gift from him of course; no one else could find such luxury goods except on the black market. Her legs made him want to take her again, harder.

"Good night, Herr Lannister," she says finally before opening the door. Clegane sits on a bench waiting for her.

"Fraulein Snow," he dismisses her curtly. "Clegane." The man nods without expression, dutifully uninterested. He was loyal, and asked no questions, which was even better than the girl's pliant stupidity.

They leavetogether while Tywin finished his drink. His valet would see them out, he has more important work: the bag she has brought him.

Fools,he thinks them.Fools and weaklings. He is a lion, and a lion does not concern himself with the opinions of sheep.

….

They walk down the marble hallway and out the door staring straight ahead and not talking. Clegane opens the car door for her and speaks as curtly as Herr Lannister.

"Get in," he tells her and shuts the door hard behind her. Sansa knows to hold her tongue. Still, she feels bad for Clegane. He had never hurt her.

"Sandor, I'm sor-" she begins but he cuts her off.

"You stayed longer this time. This is as far as I can take you. I have a guards' meeting."

Sansa looks around. "B-but this is Flea Bottom," she whispers worriedly.

"You'll be alright…as long as you haven't any coin or food."

She steps out gingerly into the dark street, and he speeds off and leaves her.

Sansa tightens the belt of her coat and looks around carefully; she has a little coin, and so she sets off in search of a potshop that has food.

Continued...