A/N: This one's short, but look how quickly I managed to publish it! *proud of myself* I really struggled with editing this time, so forgive me for mistakes or repetitions!
Enjoy and tell me your thoughts! Hope you're all safe and healthy in these crazy times!
It was a good night's sleep, though Sansa awoke to Roose's voice in her ears, and it made her first waking moments rather dire. Staring into the void around her she breathed heavily, checking if she was still alone in the room. Maybe he had come back and taken advantage of her while she had been sleeping?
Nothing seemed like it, except for this dreadfully haunting voice of his, and somehow, she couldn't get rid of it, no matter how hard she tried. Groaning, she covered her face with a pillow in a futile attempt to block the stimuli from the outside world. There was a new day ahead, new tasks she will have to face, requiring her undivided attention. She needed to focus, and suppress that power of his over her.
The greeting she received at the breakfast made her change her mind - she wouldn't be able to suppress it. She will just have to get used to it.
Her new study was adjacent to Roose's - a small chamber with a few chairs, a desk, the books she had sent here the day before, and a hearth. Sansa couldn't recall who it belonged to back in the days, so she decided to give it a fresh start and make her own memories instead.
However, she already knew that if she was going to spend even some of her working hours inside this chamber alone, reading, thinking, and planning, she would go insane pretty quickly. She had been surrounded by people almost all the time during her work before, but they had been just the executors of her plans, without any say in what they were doing. And what she needed were advisors, skilled men with a voice of their own.
There was quite a good excuse to march into Roose's study and demand appointing some people to help her. Or at least request to have the maester at her side at all times, and not only when she stumbled upon a problem she couldn't solve on her own.
She sat down at the desk and quickly found some parchments and a quill with ink - she had letters to write. Notices for a few small families she had never even met with an announcement the Warden and Wardeness of the North were going to pay them a visit.
Something that seemed an easy task at first, turned out to be much more complicated than she had initially thought. The appropriate words didn't want to come, the blank parchment laughing at her. Maybe the idea was in fact ridiculous enough that even her fingers refused to write the right letters, knowing better than her how it truly sounded.
Finally, the first drop of ink fell onto the paper from her reluctant quill. She thanked the families for their responses and being open-minded regarding the cooperation, asked about any problems, and assured them of the willingness of House Bolton to help, with the Lord and Lady of Winterfell themselves wishing to personally lend them a hand. Sansa ended the letter with a signature, and only then thought twice about what she had actually written.
Sansa Stark, read the name at the bottom of the parchment.
She stared at the letters long enough for them to fuse into one. Sansa Stark, that was the essence of her, that was who she was and will always remain. But for the time being, she had to betray that name and everything it stood for. Hopefully, with the right amount of luck and determination, it would only be temporary.
Her shaking hand added another house name, and her eyes fastened on the hostile blend that had just been brought to life, her fingers involuntarily grasping her new clasp, representing the very same atrocity.
Sansa Stark Bolton.
A distorted monster, staring at her from the paper. The monster she had to become in order to achieve what she wanted.
She might have phrased it differently, but any other option seemed even worse. Sansa Bolton of House Stark? No, for the Northern lords to follow she had to remain Sansa Stark, despite everything. And she most definitely was not Sansa Stark of House Bolton; the way she had put it turned out to be the only proper one.
Forcing herself to look away from the words that burnt her soul she copied the letter a few times, neatly folded the papers, and stood up, the excuse to visit Roose's study now in her hands.
She left her study and promptly knocked on his door. Then, without waiting for an invitation, she walked inside, finding Roose focused on the map spread on his desk, small figures in shapes of various sigils scattered all over it.
He gazed up at her as she entered the chamber and slowly folded the map, little pawns falling onto the wooden surface with a quiet thump. Was there something he didn't want her to see? Or maybe it was only an act to show her she wouldn't have access to all the information because she wasn't the one in power?
Whatever the cause, she wasn't going to ask about it, not now at least. She had other concerns in mind for the time being.
"The letters, my lord." She handed him the missives and waited as his eyes skipped through them. His gaze lingered on her signature for a few seconds, her breath hitching as she prepared to defend her choice. But then he took a quill and put his name underneath hers.
"You may have these sent." He gave her the parchments back and she nodded in acquiescence but did not retreat. There was this other issue she wanted to address.
"I have a request of my own," she started, her eyes searching for his gaze, ready to withstand those piercing irises of his. As he looked up at her, he seemed somewhat distracted and tired, two things she had never noticed before. It wasn't something catching the eye at first sight, but she had his passive features memorized enough to notice some changes. It caught her off guard for two reasons. One, it meant he was a human being, after all, possessing at least some human weaknesses. Two, she might not be as bad in reading him as she had previously thought. Apparently, she had spent enough time with him to improve her perception. It would most certainly prove useful in the future.
Maybe it wasn't the perfect time to be making requests, but she decided to follow it through either way.
"I'd like to appoint some people to aid me in my work."
As he stared back at her she noticed dark circles underneath his eyes, not without a hint of satisfaction.
"No." The answer took her aback; she did not expect such a direct refusal. Her eyes flickered with anger, but before she could inquire about a reason, he continued, "When you appoint people to work you usually have to pay them, so they would actually do their job. We don't have enough money to follow all of your plans. It's either food, men, or your aid."
She stared back at him in silent defiance. There was logic to his words she could not deny, no matter how hard she would try. Still, she suspected he just wanted to keep her extremely busy and people-less, so she wouldn't plot anything unbeneficial for his house. She couldn't confront him about it, could she?
"I need someone," she insisted further regardless. "At least allow me to use the maester on a daily basis, he's already working for us."
"Fine. Use Wolkan however you please. No one else."
"Thank you." She managed to remain calm, though inside she was blazing with anger. Without more words she left his study and walked to the maester, quieting her emotions along the road. How could she be a Wardeness of the North without any aid? If she was an experienced lady, truly knowing what she was doing, maybe there wouldn't be much of a problem. But she still didn't know so much, and although she was trying her best she continued to feel unsure in so many areas.
Wolkan had assisted her before and she felt their cooperation would be truly beneficial for the future of the North. Having him around whenever she pleased could make every task so much easier, resulting in her growing wiser as well. Additionally, he was a rather positive figure - there was something appealing in him, a lot of signs indicating a good heart. He couldn't be blamed for the crimes of the house he was serving. Sansa could only imagine what atrocities he had to witness being around the Boltons - Ramsay especially - for so many years, and that notion made her feel sorry for him.
She found him in his chambers over a book; apparently, there was not much to do for him now when she had basically taken over every possible duty. She greeted him kindly and offered a place at her side in her study, begging him in her mind to accept.
She didn't have to ask twice: the proposition made his face lighten and he immediately agreed. The enthusiasm was rather understandable - Sansa might have been the first person around him in ages showing any sign of kindness.
The rest of the day passed at listening and working: they returned to her new study and then - in the company of one guard while the other two remained outside - she asked the maester to tell her about things she still didn't know much about, like the military issues. Her mind devoured every new information, processing them swiftly, and demanding to know more and more until she would understand it all. Those were probably things Maester Luwin had taught her brothers, not intended for young girls' ears. But the times had changed, and she needed that knowledge, in case she would have to use it against Roose one day, or when she would rule the North in her own name.
The hours went by quicker than any other - maybe because listening to another human being who was capable of producing real emotions felt good and refreshing, or maybe simply because the winter sun was losing its battles with the moon sooner with every passing day. Regardless of the reason, Sansa returned to her chamber with a sense of completion, of being on the right path. She made a deal with Wolkan to divide their work the next day and create some concrete plans regarding the Essos trade now that they had lord Manderly's agreement. It felt good and she found herself smiling at the thought.
The knock at the door startled her; for the first time in weeks, she had been so engrossed in something she had basically forgotten she was a woman wed, not to mention her nightly duties. Also, she was surprised Roose would visit her this night, considering the tiredness she had sensed in him earlier that day. Were their physical encounters soothing for his mind and body?
"Come in," she answered, discovering her own mind and body were enough at peace to be rather... anxiously excited? That would probably be the best term to describe it, though it made her cheeks burn.
She should be angry at him for today's refusal, but the nights weren't for minds or conscious emotions, were they? It was better and far easier to surrender to the body and its sensations, especially now, considering her peculiarly high spirits.
Roose came inside and closed the door behind him while she wordlessly stood up and started unclasping her cloak. No words were needed.
When her fingers reached for the laces of her gown he stopped her, much to her surprise.
"Don't."
She gazed up at him, stiffening immediately. Maybe the thing that could bring his mind peace wasn't their usual encounter, but rather violence? Or maybe he was going to make her pay for what hadn't happened the day before?
He watched her for a moment as she stared back at him, her chest heaving with accelerated breathing.
"Allow me."
Allow him what? At first, the meaning was lost on her and she frowned, waiting for him to elaborate on that. He did no such thing.
Finally, it dawned on her.
"O-oh," slipped out of her mouth at the realization and she felt her cheeks turning even redder. New situations in the dimness of the night would probably always make her uncomfortable at first, but she did her best to relax.
Turning her back to him, she let her arms slowly fall down her sides. As she forced herself to breathe, she heard him moving closer until she could feel him standing right behind her. He started unlacing her gown, unhurriedly yet decidedly, string by string. Soon all parts of her garment landed in a pile at her feet and she stood naked, her back turned to him, not daring to move, focusing on breathing alone. His knuckles made their way down her back in a gentle caress; his touch on her bare skin made her shiver involuntarily. Not that it was uncomfortable - on the contrary, the gentleness of it was making her uneasy, for it was far from being uncomfortable. To her dismay, she wanted him to touch her, as the fire between her legs already lightened up.
She felt his breath on her nape and before she could even think twice his lips planted a kiss there while his fingers still caressed her skin. A soft moan escaped her as she arched her neck, giving in to the sensations. He kissed her all the way down her spine, the pressure in her insides steadily growing. There was, however, a trace of anxiety left in her, as it somehow felt... different, and she was unsure what would come next. Did... did he want to take her from behind? It would definitely make her goal of not looking at him easier, but in her mind, it seemed very unlady-like and debasing. Once again she thought she wasn't his whore, she was his lady. She should have a say in such matters, shouldn't she?
That particular anxiety vanished and another one appeared as he swirled her around, putting her hair out of the way. He paused before her, looking at her like he... admired her? Or maybe he was just analyzing all the places he hadn't touched yet, like her breasts, or her lips. Her breath hitched as his eyes lingered on her mouth way longer than they should have. Did he intend to kiss her?
She cringed internally, and something of that must have seeped into her eyes because he suddenly seemed to change his intentions. The atmosphere was back to their usual one as he gently but decidedly pushed her towards the bed, his eyes altering their course.
She didn't want him to kiss her. What was between her legs was a part of her duty, and her womb was his to fill, but her lips were only and entirely hers, and they were sealed. Silly as it sounded even in her own head, it seemed like the kind of barrier she didn't want to break. This one thing she would have only for herself. Maybe she will be forced to break this rule one day, but it wasn't this moment. For now, her lips remained in her control.
He didn't aid her in her pleasure anymore today, ultimately leaving her unsatisfied. She wasn't certain whether it was for the slight denial he had found in her eyes, just to punish her, or for the tension she could sense in his body with his every move. The whole thing was way sloppier than usual, and more than ever it felt like he was holding a lot of possibilities from her, intentionally. Had she just lost her chance to take a step further into their "relationship"? Maybe if she had allowed him to kiss her... but she didn't want it, no. Definitely not.
He left her still burning on her bed, disheveled but not brought to the edge even once. She didn't feel like his lady wife at all that night.
Once alone, she wriggled in frustration, wishing the fire to go away or erupt on its own. As it kept bothering her she finally groaned and begrudgingly moved her hand to where she needed it the most, quickly forgetting about any reservations when her mind gave way to pure pleasure.
They won't have it this way, though. She was supposed to beguile him through pleasure, not the other way around; it seemed he used the act in a similar manner she wanted to, as she realized just now. Her inexperience was in his favor - she still did not know her body or the reactions it might provide, not to mention his. Even though she had been a wife for weeks now, those matters weren't much closer to her than they had been during her wedding night. Yes, she knew now what pleasure felt like, how she could forget the world outside when those lips and fingers - unnamed, as always - were bringing her to the edge. Barely moments ago she had also got to experience how it was to be denied the pleasure and left highly frustrated at that fact - something she most certainly did not appreciate. But there had to be much more than that, countless possibilities to discover. Possibilities that wouldn't engage her mouth, letting it remain an unchartered territory. Possibilities he was keeping from her on purpose.
She had been so occupied by the Northern matters, politics, and Winter she had neglected the physical part of her plan. This had to change, finally transforming into her power over him. The timing seemed perfect, as the idea no longer disgusted her, and despite everything, she felt positively secured in other areas to fully embrace this task.
With that in mind, she decided she will become the active part the next time he would come to her, and she will show him what she was capable of. Even though she did not know that herself.