Petyr ran out of the museum, slightly out of breath. He searched the crowd but Sansa was nowhere to be seen. The expression she wore when he saw her was enough for him to abandon Margaery without another thought. No doubt that silly girl had all sorts of ideas running through her head right now and he wasn't able to catch her in time to talk his way out of what it probably looked like.
He cursed under his breath. Sansa was gone and whatever damage was already there was only going to be all the more difficult to repair.
Reluctantly, he returned to the museum and made way through the gardens to the café. Margaery had not moved from her place. She enjoyed her cocktail while admiring the sea. Despite everything, Petyr could not deny that Margaery was an exceedingly beautiful woman. The young woman did a good job in seducing men to get what she wanted. He was not immune to her charms completely but he knew well enough to never truly fall into them.
He returned to his seat across from her, gaining her attention.
"Apologies, my dear. I thought I saw someone I needed to discuss some things with."
"Must have been quite important for you to run after them." Margaery mused.
"Just some business dealings, darling."
"I see."
Margaery was a well aware girl. She saw things and used that to her advantage. Unfortunately for her, Petyr was smarter. All Margaery had was her charms and looks, nothing more. Petyr had everything.
"Enough about that, do you know why I asked you to meet me here today?" He stirred his gin and tonic.
"I have an idea."
"Do share." He half smiled before taking a drink.
"Word around is that Sansa is now working with Cersei. So that leaves you with an open position."
Petyr wondered how smug she must have felt with having 'found it out'. "You're right. I had my share of the fresh face but now it's time to return to someone the people know and love." Margaery wasn't exactly immune to flattery even if she did have some wits about her. She was beaming as if she had won a battle, but did she ever have a battle with Sansa? Didn't seem to be fair considering the brunette was on the losing side of this equation.
"The new collection will do good with your face. You don't mind if you wear a few dead birds do you?"
Margaery giggled, not realising that he wasn't joking about the birds.
"You're funny, Petyr. Do I get to live with you too?" She smiled coyly.
Petyr internally sighed. He did well to hide the fact that Sansa was living with him but it seemed to not have passed certain eyes and ears. Cersei must have found out and told her. For two women who were not too fond of each other, they sure talked a lot.
"I'm afraid not." He smiled but it did not reach his eyes. "The recent arrangement was due to unforeseen circumstances."
Margaery raised an eyebrow. "Unforeseen? By you of all people?" She wasn't convinced as she drank more of her cocktail.
What Margaery didn't know was that she was entirely wrong. The whole living arrangements with Sansa were never planned. Even if the same had happened to another woman he wouldn't have gone through such lengths. Sansa, on the other hand… she was different. He could see this perfect little rosebud that was about to bloom and the whole world was going to crush it. Perhaps, she needed some pain. For what was a rose that did not come with her thorns.
"Anyway, it's done now. I wonder how well she will deal with Cersei…" She leaned forward and rested her face on her palms.
Petyr mused for a moment. Sansa was a strong girl that was sure, but Cersei was a beast of a woman. "She will do fine if she learns the rules of the game quickly."
"An absurd amount of rules." Margaery shook her head.
The lunch with Margaery had gone on longer than Petyr would have liked but what was done was done. The cab ride back to his fashion house went by quickly with all the thoughts running through his head. Part of him wanted to text Sansa but he judged it would be better if he didn't reach out. As selfish of a man he was, he knew Sansa wouldn't be able to grow just being with him all the time. Cersei was a shrewd woman but that wasn't uncommon in this industry. As much as he wanted to possess Sansa, she needed to be fed to the wolves.
It was not out of some strange desire to break her or control her. Fashion was a dog eat dog world and she would not survive for one minute even under his protection without learning her own defenses.
Petyr got out of the cab and entered the fashion house. He ignored the letters sitting on the secretaries desk for him and went straight to the workshop. Betty was out on a well deserved holiday in the Riverlands until full preparations began. In the meantime, Petyr needed to draw concepts.
As he entered the workshop the first thing that drew his eye was the white and gold dress by itself in front of the mirror wall. He approached the dress with a frown. He had put so much into this garment. Every detail it bore was something he saw in Sansa. Unworldly beauty that could blind once under light. Nuances scattered all over. White innocence. Queenly gold. Traditional elegance drifting into state-of-the-art. It was all her and this dress was all he had of her now.
He stepped away to the work table where a long unopened package sat. He took his time in opening it. A dozen layers of tissue paper later and the roll of emerald mulberry silk lay before him. It was the highest quality he had ever worked with. Every thread had been sewn and dyed by hand. It was hugely expensive. Yet, it did not deter Petyr. For his new creation, he would only use the best.
With the emerald rolled out over the table, Petyr picked up a pair of large fabric shears and dived straight into the bliss of work.
Sansa stood awkwardly outside the Lannister studio. Two days had passed and Sansa was dying to eat something. She had half fasted to try to lose something around her waist but she wasn't sure how successful she had been. She planned on getting a good meal once she was done today. She was too early and as per Cersei's rule, she opted to stand outside in the cold until it was time to enter.
The waiting did nothing for her, every free thought she had was of Petyr sitting with Margaery. She couldn't believe that at some point she thought that day at the museum was something special between them. Now she knew he did that with every woman he met. Was he going to work with Margaery now that she was gone? Was that why he told her to leave when Cersei offered her a position? Did he and Cersei have it already planned?
Her brow furrowed into anger. What a bastard. To think she had let herself fall prey to his ploys.
"Fuck you!" She growled.
The mute security guard that had not been paying her any mind until now, glanced at her. Sansa gasped, "no no, not you! Someone else!" She laughed nervously.
The guard didn't seem to be affected, or even care. Sansa was thankful for that. The last thing she wanted was to get on the bad side of someone who could easily beat her up.
She glanced at her phone and the time told her it was time to go inside. Quickly, she ran up the stairs and knocked. Just as before, the door was answered just as her hand was lifting off the wood. The old man ushered her in and she walked up the stairs to the work studio.
Sansa checked the time again before she knocked on the door and heard Cersei's voice. She entered and found several seamstresses hard at work embroidering details into fabrics.
"Perfect timing." The blonde woman stood in her dark red pant suit and heels. She was gazing at her watch, making Sansa realise just how serious the time rules were.
"Let's see if you were able to lose something." Cersei snapped her fingers and one of the seamstresses stopped her work mid way and ran over to Sansa with a measuring tape.
The woman got quick to work in her measuring and wrote them down for Cersei. She handed the paper with the numbers before returning to work on her embroidery. Cersei glanced over the numbers with a smirk.
"Better, but you will need to lose more."
Sansa didn't know how much more she could realistically do and it was hard to tell if Cersei was pushing it because of her own preferences or if she simply enjoyed seeing how far her new model was willing to go.
"Get yourself undressed, there are some dresses I need you to put on. We will need to see how the shells look before continuing." Cersei walked over to the coffee table to pick up a cup of what Sansa assumed to be mulled wine. Sansa had done a little research on the woman since their first meeting and the gossip columns didn't lie. The woman drank alcohol, wine especially, at nearly all hours.
Sansa undressed openly in view of everyone. Here, she wasn't afraid of showing her body to strangers. Unlike her first few times she was at Baelish, where it was more embarrassing to show herself, but that was due to Petyr and Petyr wasn't here now to torment her with those grey-green eyes.
The fabric that wrapped her body was stiff and uncomfortable. A shell indeed. Uncomfortable as it was, the fabric was lavish and rich with red and gold lions. An icon of the Lannister brand.
Unlike Petyr, who took a very hands on approach to the fittings. The seamstress who put the dress on her was quick to fix measurements with pins, while Cersei leaned back against a table, enjoying her wine.
Once the dress was finished, she was quickly put into another. This next dress was far softer and flexible in its choice of base fabric. The simple soft gold silk was delicate and warm and Sansa wondered what it would look like finished. The cut was modest but sexy in the way it revealed her collarbone and shoulders.
Unlike Petyr's dresses that were revealing and seductive, Cersei seemed to prefer a more subtle allure.
A handful of dresses later and with Cersei's permission, Sansa was beginning to dress herself back into her own clothes. A knock at the door caused the woman to raise an eyebrow. "Who is it?" She spat. Clearly, she wasn't expecting anyone.
The door cracked open and an extremely handsome blonde man's face popped insdie. "Surprise."
Cersei's stern face melted. "Jaime!"
She put her cup down and walked to the door quickly as he pushed it wide open. She stopped in her tracks and that girlish grin she wore turned into hateful disgust. "Why is that here?"
The dwarf stepped inside the studio with Jaime as Cersei shook her head violently. "Get him out."
"It's only for a moment, Cersei." It appeared that this sort of conversation happened a lot with the way Jaime was handling it and Sansa felt like she shouldn't be here to witness this.
"I said get him out!"
The dwarf rolled his eyes and did as she commanded and stepped out of the door.
"Everyone out, you included Sansa."
Sansa perked up, "should I come back later?"
"No, you're done for the day. Thank you." The acknowledgement was curt but Sansa would take it without complaint.
She stepped past Jaime who gave her a silent 'sorry' with his eyes. She smiled briefly and exited the room. Once everyone was out, leaving Jaime and Cersei alone, the door was slammed closed with a lock.
As Sansa descended the stairs she spotted the dwarf at the bottom. He sat on one of the chairs, his half legs dangling in the air. Sansa began to move past him without a word until she heard his voice stop her.
"Sansa, was it?"
She stopped to look back at him. "Yes."
"Sansa Stark? Ned's daughter?"
She didn't know which direction this was going to go. Was he about to accuse her of something? Be rude? Or was he one of the few who were on her father's side?
"Yes… I'm his daughter. I'm sorry, you are?"
"Ah, my apologies. The name is Tyrion Lannister. The dwarf brother to Jaime and Cersei." He had clearly been tormented by the fact he was a dwarf from his half bored half buggered character. "Ned was a good man. I'm sorry about what happened to him."
"It was a while ago.."
"I don't doubt it still hurts."
Unlike his sister, Tyrion was more considerate. At least he appeared so. It was hard to tell with all the directions her relationships had been going.
"Thank you." She muttered, trying to keep a blank face. Her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl that echoed in the lounge. Sansa's face turned red. "I should go."
"Sounds like someone is hungry." He smiled. "Would you care to join me for an early supper?"
Sansa frowned, "like a date?"
He laughed. "No no, I only mean to make peace."
"Peace for what?"
"For my sister trying to starve you."
Sansa felt hesitant about his offering. Free food was never a bad thing but she didn't know if she could trust him and with the paparazzi she dealt with before when she dined with Petyr she was worried it might happen again. Tyrion seemed to read her concerns.
"I know of a place where no unwanted eyes will spy on you."
She bit her lip.
"What about your brother? Didn't you come together?"
Tyrion gave a knowing smirk that she didn't understand the meaning to. "Jaime will be awhile."
Sansa's mind scrambled through all the reasons why she should say no but she had an odd feeling that Tyrion wasn't playing games. What did she have to lose at this point anyways?
"Alright… let's go."