No sooner had the formalities of greeting been completed then Daenerys turned to Sansa's brother Bran and said to her host, "Take me to him, King Brandon, I would pay my respects."
Her brother Bran, understood Daenerys immediately. Aegon moved to follow her, but Daenerys looked at him and the look arrested him in his place. "I wish to be accompanied only by King Brandon," she declared loudly and none would gainsay her.
Seated on his horse, Brandon Stark, called the King in the North, called the Crippled King, called the Winged Wolf, lead the Mother of Dragons away from the throng. They went in the direction of the godswood, where the bones of the green and bronze dragon Rhaegal, the dragon Bran had ridden, lay.
Sansa faced Aegon now, they were surrounded by hundreds of people, but she felt as if they only two people in the world. He was silent for a long moment, staring at her, not a muscle in his face moving. Sansa moved to bow to him, but he stilled her. Instead, he knelt on the ground to kiss her hand.
"Princess Sansa, you cannot know how I've longed for this moment," he said, letting out a long extinguished sigh. He voice was as beautiful as his person, deep and soft and crooning. In the corner of her eye, she saw her sisters, her sister Arya and her goodsister, Shireen Baratheon, glance at each other, smile mischievously and sigh in appreciation in tandem. A maiden's fantasy and oh how he must want me, she thought, for his every expression spoke of the nervousness of a man in love.
The party left Winterfell at dawn to fish. Aegon had lived with fisherfolk and was mad for fishing. Accompanying him were Sansa, Arya, Rickon and Shireen. Bran's was not able to enjoy physical pursuits and Daenerys claimed illness and requested to stay behind.
The Targaryens had been here for a week, and while Aegon was often in Sansa's presence, Daenerys was not. Daenerys demeanor was distant and distracted and Sansa's requests for her company were politely rebuffed. Daenerys spent her days instead walking around the godswood or the crypts of Winterfell or the sept. And while she rebuffed Sansa's company, she eagerly sat close to Bran during suppers in the Great Hall. They conversed with each other almost exclusively and on the ocassion that Sansa could catch their conversations, the subject matter seemed to be only of Rhaegal. The dragons were the only children she will ever give birth to and now they are dead and gone, Sansa thought, understanding something of Daenerys' torment. Her wariness of Daenerys remained but at least it was not fear. There was a sad, lost, melancholy to the Dragon Queen that Sansa found poignant and it elicited a fervent desire in Sansa to comfort her.
Aegon was determined to charm them and charm he certainly did. He taught Rickon how to hook a worm and Shireen how to clean a fish. The fish that they caught, he prepared and cooked himself for them. Sansa had to admit it was the most delicious fish she ever had eaten. Her mother's people, the Tullys of Riverrun, would have loved him.
He was most courteous to Shireen, lifting her by the arms, when they chanced to come across a puddle. He swooshed her across the puddle and then dropped her gently on dry land. She giggled in sheer joy to receive his attentions, and then blushed profusely when Aegon kissed her on the left side of her cheek, where the skin was gray and black due to the greyscale infection she had suffered as an infant.
Sansa thought that he would court her by calling her the Rose of Winterfell or praising her beauty in some other manner, but he said none of those platitudes. Instead they spoke of serious matters, of their families and their experiences, of history and the future marvels that seemed to be but around the corner. The age of magic was dead, and it seemed to her that the age of reason would replace it, for there were inventions and developments in King's Landing that would have astonished her parents. Some inventions, like a device that could tell time and would clang noisily on the hour, seemed so marvelous, it was a counterfeit to magic and yet surpassed it. Aegon is the King the times demand, she mused, it was if he was brought forth by destiny.
Aegon also spoke movingly of Daenerys. She could deduce from his words that their marriage was not happy for either party. He said that he was Daenerys' husband, but not her lover. But there was respect and it was enough for their relationship, yet still he had hoped to find the love with the Younger Queen that eluded him with the Elder. Aegon took pains to explain to that Sansa would be honored by both of them and no other wife would follow after her.
Their conversation became flirtatious only once. Arya and Rickon and Shireen were swimming in the lake. They begged Sansa to join them but she declined, instead preferring to sit by the lake, nibbling on a lemoncake and watching the merry swimmers. Aegon sat next to her.
"My Princess Sansa, do you know in King's Landing, the singers have made a song of you? They say you are a witch who killed a false illborn king with a spell and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat and flew out a tower window," he said, teasing her.
She laughed at how the truth of Joffrey's death and her escape changed into this child's tale of magic and transformation. But the memory of that night and then the days and years that followed when she was Alayne Stone unsettled her. Thoughts of Littlefinger and the years she spent as his creature always filled her with revulsion.
"Perhaps the singers were right. I am a witch. I did not kill an evil king but I have slain a demon. And yet I still live to tell the tale," she said, her voice queer and distant. My only regret is that I could slay him but once, she thought with uncharacteristic bloodthirstiness.
Aegon stared into her with his violet eyes, they were grave but compassionate, capturing an expression her father Eddard Stark wore. It seemed as if he understood her instinctively. He replied, "There is no shame in slaying a demon only in yielding service to one."
She turned away from him unnerved by his ability to ferret out all her secrets.
Aegon continued, saying, "Do you know why I wish to marry you Sansa? Perhaps you think it is because of your beauty or your bloodlines. Those things are not your true worth. When Daenerys bade me seek another wife, so that our House might continue, I asked Tyrion who should I wed. He told me Sansa Stark, that you would make a good queen and a good wife for the man that had the sense to love you. He gave me copy of the History you've been writing. I've enjoyed reading it immensely, I too am a scholar of the past. The magnanimity of spirit you showed towards those who were your foes moved me. Too often history is a victor's tale and all the vanquished needs must be villains. I knew after I finished it that here was a woman who was equal to the task of being the Younger Queen, of repairing a nation, of ruling with love and not fear."
Sansa remained silent but his words had stirred her. Before Aegon, only Sandor had ever loved her for herself.
She was saved from having to answer by Rickon's loud call. Arya held Shireen on top of her shoulders and was fighting with Rickon in the water. Rickon begged Aegon to join them. "Aegon, come in the water, we need another!"
Aegon begged off. Instead he picked up a piece of lemoncake and was inspecting it with some indifference.
"These are a great delicacy in the North, my lord. And a favorite of myself and my family," she said.
"They look rather plain," he replied. Aegon had lived in Pentos and the foods of that city were said to be the most delicious and decadent in the world. The foods of the North, her favorites like lemoncake and beef and bacon pie, must seem poor victuals in comparison.
"Ah, but I have cast a spell on them and have turned it into your favorite dish," she teased, wiggling her fingers over the lemoncake.
He smiled at her jape, and ate a piece but she could tell it did not impress him. "Hmm, sour and dry as I suspected. This is poor witchcraft, lady. I have seen better in a village fair. But if you are a witch, prove it to me, give me a potion to make a maid love," he spoke to her, his voice seductive.
And then he leaned in to kiss her. His kiss elicited a strange reaction, a combination of impersonal arousal but a repugnance at the same time. For she already loved another and had none to spare for him. He felt her lack of desire and made no move to deepen the kiss. She turned her face away from his to break the kiss. She looked down on the ground and forced herself to blush so that he might mistake her repugnance for maidenly shyness.
He took her hand in his and kissed it ardently. And then he murmured to her, "Tonight we dine alone, Sansa. I look forward to giving you pleasure such as you have never known."
Mercifully, Arya came upon them at that moment. They were staring at each other, when Arya poked him with a long wooden stick.
"Aegon, they say you know the art of Water Dancing. Show us if this is true or some lie thought up to pad your glory," Arya said, her voice was warm and carefree in a way Sansa hadn't heard for a long time. Arya stood sideways then and held the stick in her hand, her form and stance graceful and perfect, showing Aegon that she was no babe in this art.
He laughed at her, but it was not a mocking laugh but one of admiration. "Truly, you Stark women are a marvel. But Sansa, my witch, will you not save me?" he turned to her.
"I make no protection spells," she declared in mock seriousness, her hands pushing him to take up Arya's challenge.
By this time, Rickon and Shireen had gathered around them and started yelling, "Dance! Dance! Dance!"
Aegon had no choice but to catch the stick Arya threw at him. He moved into his water dancer's stance, only presenting his side to his foe. Sansa watched as Arya and Aegon dueled. She loved watching Sandor fight in the training yard in Winterfell, he hacked and hammered at his opponent with a ferocity that had never failed to arouse her, he was so strong and dominating, no man could stand before him. The water dance was equally impressive but elegant in a way the knight's dance lacked. She had never seen anyone move as swiftly and as gracefully as Arya, ducking and thrusting here and there. They danced across the lake while the other Starks watched, hooting and clapping and hollering. Sansa watched Aegon duel, he was a match for Arya, and a pleasure to watch. His silver hair caught the sunlight and on his face was the sheer joyful intensity of being alive and being young. She thought to herself, Here is a man, here is a true knight.
Sansa returned to her bedroom after her private supper with Aegon to find Arya awake and waiting for her in bed. In Sansa's hands she carried a cup filled with a hot liquid.
Sansa was ill at ease, too many tumultuous events had occurred today, leaving her tired and brittle. They had returned from the fishing trip, she was walking to her rooms alone when Sandor ambushed her, coming out from an alcove and pulling her quickly into it. He pushed her against the wall, kissing her and caressing her. She tried to push him away, but her movements only seemed to excite him more.
"I'm going to fuck you," he warned her. He hoisted her up, hooking his arms under her thighs, the weight of his body pinning her against the wall. He briefly freed one hand and ripped her silk smallclothes. Her eyes widened as she felt the head of his member begin to enter her. "Let me in. Now."
This was wrong, she knew it, but she was aroused by his ferocity. She took him though it was a sore burn at first. She bit his neck as he pumped his hips into her, so no one could hear her sounds. She closed her eyes, wanting to just be a creature of physical sensation, with no regards for right or wrong. Her thoughts condensed to oh gods ... yes, yes, yes. She culminated quickly and then felt his body pump with increasing force. He climaxed not soon afterward with an explosive breath. She struggled against him to force him to release her. "Let me go," she told him as she squirmed.
But he held her tighter in his embrace, "Please," he said though what he was exactly begging for, to be inside her longer or for something else, she did not know.
He let her down at last. The swollen tissues down there released him slowly, as if her body was protesting what her mind and voice had commanded. The aftermath was silent, filled only with the harshness of their breathing. After she composed herself, she gave him a warning, "This is at an end. You must accept it. You'll not find me naive enough to be alone again."
All week she had seen him hovering around her, hiding in shadows, watching her when she was in plain sight. He was stalking her and with new-found clarity she realized that he had always stalked her. Even as far back as when she was a girl in King's Landing, he had been lurking about, hiding in shadows, it was by no chance accident that he found her near every moment she had been alone. It was wise of her to refuse him when he wanted to become a member of her Kingsguard. He would have stalked her like a prey animal in King's Landing while she was Queen, inflamed by his jealousy. She would always have to be on guard, for he was not man she could have given terms to, he would have taken her whenever he saw the chance. He would have hunted me to the ends of the world, if I had but let him, she thought.
"So how was your evening with Aegon?" Arya asked excitedly. This surprised Sansa, Aegon had obviously won Arya over, which was no mean feat.
"It was pleasant. We ate and talked a great deal. He had his own cook prepare supper. The food was delicious but very rich." Aegon obviously enjoyed food, she never eaten so well or so extravagantly.
"And then?" Arya asked, rolling her eyes in frustration.
"He told me about the mummer's show he had arranged for our entertainment next week. He knows I like stories, he composed a story he thought I would enjoy. He said that the show included some marvelous things that I had never seen before. He called them Yi Ti flowers, exotic flowers that only bloom at night."
"Stupid, I don't care about the food or the mummers or flowers or whatever boring things you talked about. What about his promise to give you pleasure you have never known?" Arya said, her voice filled with prurient interest.
"Oh I hadn't realized you overheard that part. Well by chance, here it is. I brought it to you so you may know it for your self," Sansa said, handing Arya the cup of hot liquid. Sansa had to admit lemoncakes were inferior to what was in the cup.
Arya stared suspiciously at the cup but took a drink of it. She closed her eyes as the hot liquid traveled down her throat. After she finished, Sansa saw Arya move her mouth in appreciation. "Mmm," Arya moaned. She gave Sansa her verdict "its delicious, wondrous even. I've never tasted anything like it. What is it?"
"Aegon says that traders brought it to Pentos from Sothoryos. It comes from a bean so rare and costly that it used as tribute for taxes in some Sothoryosi cities. In Pentos, they take the ground bean and mix it with hot milk and sugar. He said the Pentoshi call the drink hot cacao."
Arya burst out laughing at Sansa's explanation. "He did not lie. It was truly a pleasure you have never known."
She smiled at her sister and at her memory of her evening with Aegon. He had behaved like the perfect gallant. She had to admit she enjoyed his company. Sansa dressed for bed and climbed into it. She felt Arya's hand in hers. They turned to face each other.
"I like him, Sansa," she whispered.
"I like him too, Arya," Sansa said. She wanted to say more but didn't know if it was wise to let Arya in on her confidences.
"But ...?" Arya asked, seemingly knowing there was more.
"But I never asked for this cup to pass to me, and now I must drink from it," Sansa replied.
"You would refuse it if you could? Even if it had pleasures you have never known?" Arya asked in bewilderment.
"I would. Even if it had pleasures I have never known," Sansa responded. Sandor's seed still was within her though she taken precautions so that no child would ever be engendered by it. She did not want to wash it out. He's the Dornishman's wife. I've tasted him, now I cannot enjoy the taste of another, she thought with resignation.
"Then you are a fool," Arya replied, but there was no anger or mock in her voice.
