A kiss every day was their new routine.
It was usually a short one; a peck hello or goodbye that they could enjoy in a rush; stolen kisses, not from each other but from time. But sometimes they managed to get longer lasting kisses, and it was only very few occasions when they found the time or the place for kisses that would leave them breathless.
They put it on hold when it was time for the Quarterly meetings since there were too many people in the castle and Sansa was already feeling watched by Winterfell's inhabitants; she felt like they judged her, like they were aware of her furtive encounters with Podrick. So they remained overly conscious and felt that they shouldn't risk it near the lords.
Podrick had known there were rumors about them around the castle even before they started kissing every day but he never mentioned to her that there were certain characters that were suspicious of them. The only thing Podrick knew without a doubt was that the workers and the inhabitants of the castle were loyal to their Queen because there were no rumors on the outside.
At the moment, they were hiding in a random room and Sansa was still secretly impressed by how a single short kiss was no longer enough for them and they kept trying to prolong the sensations. She both enjoyed those moments and she felt anxious about them once they had passed.
They had been meeting in private for weeks but it was only then that Podrick leaned in to touch his nose to her cheek before lowering his face to her neck without touching it, he just breathed on her making her shiver; she smelled like rose water and a soft musk. It smelled like her.
The sensation that went through her had become more familiar by now but she couldn't say she was completely used to it; she felt chills go through her along with a tickling sensation on her back that she couldn't quite describe. A delightful tickling. His rushed breathing felt warm on her neck.
Figuring that she'd soon be pushing him away, he left a peck on the place where her jaw and neck met that had her tensing, "Let me," he whispered, "you won't know what you're missing unless you let me show you," and since he got no reply he searched her face only to find all the imaginable shades of red on it. The twinkle in her eye elicited a grin.
Sansa practically gulped, "the problem is that it feels too good." That really was the only argument she had against him continuing.
Podrick straightened a bit chuckling at her predicament, "I could make you feel even better if you let me." He said as he wagged his eyebrows, which had her feeling even more embarrassed and turning a shade of bright red even if while she shook her head in attempt to seem nonchalant, though, knowing that she wasn't he loosened a bit his hold on her. "But seriously, that's the idea, to make you feel good." he moved his hands over her back, over the thick corset, "I promise I'll be careful, I won't leave any marks. And I'll stop when you tell me to." He looked at her knit brows as he waited for an answer.
Suspicion struck her then and she was embarrassed to ask but she decided to do it, "Marks? Do you mean bruises?"
Podrick nodded dumbly, too mesmerized by the moment to really process her question.
"There can be marks when you're careful?" Ramsay had left marks on her and he certainly hadn't been careful, and she knew Podrick and that's what seemed odd to her, could there be bruises even if he wasn't being vicious?
The hesitancy in her tone, the reminder of her past, took him out of his daze and he immediately squeezed her hand comfortingly as he tried to find the words to address her lack of experience, good experience, "... Only if it gets too intense and intense doesn't have to be vicious, you'll see... hmm... I don't mean you'll see like you'll be comparing. I…" He had to pause to rephrase it to be clearer and not just let the words out as they came to him. He also tried to avoid saying he was sorry for her and the bad experiences of her past, he thought his words would sound empty in that moment even if they weren't, "I didn't mean that, Ma'am," he let out a frustrated breath, "I just..."
He was flushed and averting her eyes but Sansa understood what he meant, "I know, Podrick." was her simple response, unwilling to talk about it too and wanting to brush aside what had just happened, "I just wondered." he nodded repeatedly and she pulled her hand away but only to touch his chin. The peaceful moment they had been enjoying was gone and she didn't want that so just to try and recover it she leaned in to kiss him again. She felt his lower lip trembling against hers and she could tell he was hesitant to continue.
When he started kissing her back he kept his eyes open for a few seconds to see if what they just discussed weighted on her and suddenly she opened her eyes and was surprised to see him looking at her so she pulled back. Podrick struggled to find words for a second, "I just wanted to make sure that you were fine."
"I am." she replied a little amused by his carefulness.
He mirrored her tentative smile and he returned her kiss before speaking again, "We don't have to stay here; if you want we can go for a walk outside."
They could take a walk at any time, but not do this, she thought with some amount of shame as she leaned in to kiss him again.
Since she didn't take him up on his offer they carried on getting lost in the sensations and each other. Doing this was only becoming easier and easier.
Time could go to hell.
She had never imagined that kissing like this could feel so good, she thought, not for the first time. And during one of those breaks they took to regain some air she was left looking at him as she weighted her own doubts and the kind of touches they had discussed; Wasn't she curious about how much better a kiss on her neck could feel as opposed to a quick peck or his heavy breathing? Was that even true? "Be gentle." And, since Ramsay had just been in her mind, would that ruin the moment with Podrick? She was curious about that too even if she found it hard to admit it to herself.
Podrick shifted his weight from one leg to the other still hesitant but he acted anyway; he slowly bowed to leave a kiss on her cheek, then another one close to her ear as he made a slow path to her neck kissing it first with three chaste pecks and then he stayed there opening his lips slightly and slowly using them to suck on her skin, mindful not to overdo it, as she shivered in his arms. He softly sucked one, two, three times before his tongue darted out.
Sansa couldn't compare it to anything she had felt before. Her eyes were closed and her breathing heavy, she felt her face burning and her heart racing while her body was overly awake; she felt herself holding him tighter to her, her chest was rubbing against his as she panted and she knew she should stop him but she pulled him closer instead.
It seemed to him that she was quite receptive but he opted for not saying anything lest he'd embarrass her. He could tell that she was studying the sensation as she squeezed him tighter to encourage him instead of stopping him. No one had touched her like that before. He drew away for a second, they locked eyes before he proceeded to do as he intended; changing sides and doing exactly the same to discover where she was most sensitive —her left side, it seemed— and he latched on to the spot to worship it with his tongue. The sounds she was making and the way she was moving only encouraged him.
Her hands debated on whether to try to push him away, and she was finding she preferred this, letting him continue. Not a single part of her wished he would stop until suddenly she jolted and she let out a sharpmoan in response to him softly nipping on her neck. Hearing him chuckling against her ear prompted a low groan as she pushed him slightly off her.
Podrick let out an elated laugh as her moan kept echoing through the room; he knew he was going to get chastised because of it but for now she only put her forehead on his shoulder hugging him as she recovered her breath. He kissed her head a few times, "Is everything alright, Ma'am?" he whispered and she nodded. About two minutes went by before she was able to face him again. "I take it that you liked it..." he said failing to remain serious.
She wasn't about to show him how embarrassed she was about what had just happened, "Oh, now you're a seer too?" and she made him laugh with her rebuttal.
After the mirth had passed Podrick answered her, "Well there are times when there's no need to be a seer."
They stared at each other as she ran her nails on his neck making him shudder and it was then that curiosity stroke her, "Do men also liked to be kissed on the neck like that?"
His heart set off at the question, as did his loins, and he had to pull his hips away subtly to make sure she wouldn't notice his reaction. He shrugged in response to her question acting as though nothing had changed, "I can't speak for all men."
She rolled her eyes impatiently, "I meant you."
Podrick had to smirk, "You can find out yourself, if you'd like."
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"It's complicated." Sansa admitted, "Your King is my brother in body but... inside, he's not the boy I grew up with. He was someone else the second time he crossed The Wall. He's the Three-Eyed-Raven, as he told me once."
Podrick swallowed nervously; they almost never discussed the King in this manner and he knew it affected her, even if she hadn't shown him how much before. "But Bran Stark must be in there somewhere, otherwise why send me to help you? Why grant the North its independence when he could have refused?"
"He knew the North deserved its independent..." and her brother didn't have an army that answered to him since he was so newly appointed. The army answered to her. Not that they would go against each other in another devastating war. It wasn't in her or him for that matter... Sansa was still haunted by the thought that he had known what Daenerys would do in King's Landing and that he just let it play out to end up in the Throne. The Bran she knew would never do that but she didn't know the Three-Eyed Ravenand she doubted anyone ever could. "I truly wish that there is something of my brother in him but I had to come to terms with that idea that there isn't long ago."
Podrick nodded as he listened and studied her, he could tell she was distressed by her feelings towards King Bran. "And your brother Jon, Ma'am?" The question had her letting out something of a derisive laugh while her eyes got teary.
"Oh, Podrick. We should better speak of something else." She stood deciding she was done with meal, "The night is too lovely to ruin it."
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Some other day they met in some random parlor meant for entertaining visits and when they were catching their breath Podrick decided to take advantage of the moment and of his confidence to whisper in her ear all the sweet nothings that he could come up with but which he wouldn't normally say to her. Not that telling her those things did much good but at least he was able to get them out.
Hearing him say that he was enamored with her and that he adored her made her feel like...well, it both thrilled and disappointed her
And this wasn't like her, not just the part that was sneaking with a man to kiss but the part that held such a soft spot for him.
Minutes later they found themselves enjoying the afternoon air during their walk to the Weirwood tree, acting like the time they had just spent together hadn't just happened. She was quieter than usual and since he was used to her comfortable silences, Podrick could tell this wasn't one. He knew that his words, said in a moment of weakness, had unsettled her, "Take it as me being a romantic if you like. I'm just repeating what the songs say."
Sansa hummed, it was amazing that he knew her well enough to seemingly read her mind, "It's just that adoration sounds innocent." She smiled at him placidly with a soft blush, "You're so open. Open in a way I no longer am."
Podrick nodded as he took in her affectionate smile, "You can be open with me, I promise I won't tell people." he whispered and though, she rolled her eyes her smile grew broader as she looked away. Podrick licked his lips, "have I told you how special it is to see you as the magnificent, strong woman that you show the world but also knowing that that cold aloofness is absent when it comes to me... it makes me feel things, knowing that somehow I hold a part of your heart..." It was impossible not to blush as he said those things and he tried to focus on the road ahead rather than on her, "It feels so good that in my moments of weakness I think and say silly things." He looked at her with a smile while she remained serious, "Don't make a big deal of it," he tried to joke to lighten up the moment, "just be thankful I'm sober. Can you imagine the things I'd say if I were drunk? I'd be declaring my love and loyalty to my Queen to anyone who'd hear me. I'd be committing treason all over Winterfell."
"That's not so hard to imagine now that I gotten to know you better." she said and then, failing to conceal the fleeting thought that his words conjured, she asked with some self-satisfaction,"Your Queen?"
"My Queen." he stated, "... You know you are... at least until my stay here in the North is over." If Lord Royce could practically shout it to the rooftops then why wouldn't he admit it to her?
"Then I'll admit you're my favorite Guard," when she saw him about to retort she continued playfully, "and Ambassador, too."
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Lord Cromwell and Lord Harry were visiting the Storm Lands as her emissaries for the wedding of Gendry Baratheon to a young lady from one of the most prominent families of the region.
"You have to understand, My Lords and Ladies, weddings bring up bad memories for her." Lord Cromwell declared at the feast that night, to a table full of foreign lords.
"The Red Wedding,"Lord Harry added shaking his head to bring the people's attention to that event rather than on her own disastrous marriages.
"Her betrothal to King Joffrey Baratheon, her marriage to Tyrion Lannister, ...To Ramsay Bolton." said Lord Caron with a disgruntled tone. "...what people whispered about her and Lord Baelish."
"She was a young woman with no control over her fate. She did what they forced her to do; she had no choice. She had to survive." Lord Royce exclaimed from the other end of the table after hearing the conversation and feeling he had to speak up for her. "My Lords, I will ask you all to refrain from that kind of talk about the Queen in my presence since you either don't know or don't understand the circumstances."
"The only thing I know and understand is that anyone who gets involved with her ends up dead even if she doesn't do the deed herself. She's cursed."
"Cursed or blessed in vengeance?" Lady Barbrey asked at the same time as Lord Cromwell reminded everyone that Lord Tyrion was still alive.
"The only thing I know is that she'll show up to her own wedding in the future." Lord Crane made a crack that had half of the table laughing, "...It's no secret that she's only trying to delay the inevitable"
"And can you blame her, my Lords?" Lady Barbrey asked again, making herself be heard, "We all know the type of men we're talking about."
Lady Wylla wanted to kick herself for what she was about to say, "My Queen has never had the chance to choose."
"And now she has the chance but she doesn't." Lord Osgrey added.
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"Tell me something I don't know about you."
There were so many things, Podrick thought as he smiled, "When I was little, I used to stutter when I was nervous." The confession caused a frown, like she couldn't believe him, which made him smile wider before tilting his cup in her direction, "Your turn, Ma'am."
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When it came to dealing with The Reach, Sansa kept correspondence with Lord Hightower and her own ambassador reassured her that the Lord was trying hard to lower their tariffs to trade goods.
Lord Hightower admitted that he was lying to his family about the friendship between them and about the economic relationships that he wanted to deepen with the North, he said that this way was the best to wind them over but that she shouldn't get her hopes too high. In the best case scenario, the tariffs would go down for a couple of years and then they would be increased again. Worst case scenario, he would get her a ten percent discount for the present year. That was the best he could do.
Sansa demanded that he should try harder in a rather ungrateful tone.
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Podrick shrugged, "They said she died in Essos right after she arrived there."
Lord Cromwell noticed how his easy-going demeanor changed when they talked about the subject, "and you believed them?"
"I'm aware that they may have tied to play me for a fool, my lord. I'm not stupid. That's probably what happened." Podrick admitted, "It's something I'll never know for sure. But at least I did something to try to find her." Even when it was she who had abandoned him.
Lord Cromwell looked at the Queen, who had also been listening to the story, though he wondered if for the first time. "Ser Podrick, I know about men who could make a more honest effort to try to find your mother." he offered.
Podrick bushed, "Actually, My Lord, That's something I've put behind me," he admitted. He also admitted what Lord Tyrion had told him: if his mother was somewhere in Essos having a hard time, or even in Westeros, it would only take hearing about his good fortune to show up again. And maybe, to show her true colors. She had abandoned him when he was a child, it's not like he expected much from her as an adult... he just wanted some closure since she hadn't given him one. "If, you'll excuse me..." he said before standing and leaving.
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One evening they were keeping each other company in the library; she was writing scrolls while he read some books that Lord Cromwell had recommended. After exchanging a few words, they shared a complicit look and suddenly, realization hit Sansa and she was unable to keep her eyes locked on his.
Podrick noticed the subtle change in her demeanor, "What?" he asked surprised and she shook her head trying to downplay what had crossed her mind just then but he wasn't convinced, "No, Ma'am, tell me, what is it?"
She exhaled and she looked at him quickly before averting her eyes once again,"...Your eyes... they are not like theirs." she was admitting to something she hadn't realized before.
Podrick sat straighter as he tensed up because they always avoided the subject of her past and he was skittish about bringing it up so he nodded stupidly as he searched for words, "Are they kind?" he decided to ask at last and she replied with a nod.
"I meant to say...they're brown, but yes, they're also kind." his answering smile was cordial but feigned a careful.
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"At some point, you will have to marry," Lord Cromwell said when they were alone. They both knew the reason for his words.
"I know, Lord Cromwell, but for my peace of mind I'll need something better than...the highest bidder." Lord Harry's words from over a year ago.
He studied her closely, "A love marriage is a luxury very few people can afford."
She blushed despite herself, she was embarrassed because although she had been changed by her time with Podrick, she knew too well what her duty was, as a woman she had known it all her life, "I'm not naive, rest assured that I know a love marriage is not in the cards for me." She noticed that the man was making too much of her words, "I'm just saying that my husband will be someone I choose, not any of you." She no longer believed in unrealistic romance. To an extent, she didn't believe in fairy-tale love but she did think she could settle for a relationship where there was respect and affection; Podrick had showed her that with what they were experiencing... It was only that with Podrick there was more than just respect and affection.
"...Please, once and for all, tell me that after everything we've discussed you're not considering Ser Podrick Payne..." he couldn't help the whiny tone "There's nothing to consider there, My Queen". He respected him as a person, he was one of the most honest and humble people he knew but he didn't amount to the bare minimum requirements as not to be shunned by the lords.
Sansa took a deep breath, she didn't need more ideas in her head. The fact that these thoughts had crossed her mind already —though, not seriously— was counterproductive.
Not that there was too much to think about, really; even if she wanted to go above her lords and subjects, the problem remained that Podrick was a Kingsguard and he had made a life-long oath to serve the King. Sansa knew what honor meant for a respectable man like him and she wouldn't ask him to break his vows. His life was in the south, not by her side. And that was on his part. On her part, she understood that she needed an alliance that would benefit the North, which that was something that Podrick couldn't provide. She was not going to risk losing her crown on a whim, "Do not worry, Lord Cromwell, that's not what I meant, this business with Podrick is finished."
"How?" he asked in disbelief, lately she had been sharing even more of her time with the Knight.
"...I do listen to your advice." She finally said.
He offered a skeptic smile since he knew her prone to playing with words to get what she wanted, "One thing is to listen, another one to consider them and quite another one to take them."
"And who's to say I haven't done all three?"
Reason. Still, Lord Cromwell regarded her for a few moments before letting out a long exhale to show that her words appeased him.
"I am aware that the game is stacked against me and Podrick," she added bitterly and derisively intending to make the Lord uncomfortable despite knowing that he didn't mean her pain personally, she was just defensive about this. That's when they noticed Lord Harry walking towards them, "Lord Cromwell, don't worry, I'll fulfill my duty, marriage and heirs, when I'm ready, but most importantly with whomever I choose."
"You'll choose wisely, Ma'am, I know." Lord Cromwell bowed to her knowing that last part was to antagonize Lord Harry.
Lord Harry saw her turning to leave as Lord Cromwell shook his head at him, "Lord Errol and Lord Hillman are still your best options, and we have noticed that you keep correspondence with Lord Hightower." He felt Lord Cromwell's hand on his arm to stop him from talking more, and from following her. He saw her stopping for a second as though waiting for him to continue, but since he didn't, she just went on her way without even looking back at him.
Lord Cromwell waited until the Queen was out of earshot before speaking, "You mustn't push a woman too far, believe me."
Lord Harry pulled his arm away, "Whose side are you on? The realm needs an heir and at this pace, once she decides to do her duty, it'll be too late."
"There's still time. Our Queen has put the realm... and her family before her own wishes before and she will continue doing so. She knows what her duty is and she will fulfill it."
Lord Harry was annoyed at how acquiescent Lord Cromwell was with the Queen, "I know you don't believe my suspicions about her and Ser Podrick butbelieve me, they're a mess that needs cleaning."
Cromwell considered the lord and he found his abrasiveness distasteful; an abrasiveness that, if push came to shove, could end with her dismissing him as an advisor, which would be a shame because Lord Harry was a good advisor. "The Queen is a lady. She knows how to behave."
"Until he convinces her to misbehave..."
Still, he wasn't about to refute the man since there was a possibility for everything even if he thought it was unlikely.He knew the Queen, the ghosts of her past and the wounds in her soul;, wounds that according to her maesters still haunted her and which she herself had confessed to him were there, "You sound bitter, my friend." he clapped the man's shoulder, "That's not like our Queen."
"But it is like Ser Podrick."
"Don't you worry about Ser Podrick..." he looked at him hesitant to reveal to him what he was about to say, "... Between the two of us... a little bird told me that he will be called back to Kings Landing soon."
That was the only day in weeks when Sansa didn't meet up with Podrick in private and he could tell that there was something in her mind because he asked her what was wrong and she dismissed him with a ridiculous excuse that he knew to be a lie.
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The next day Podrick was still ruminating on what new obstacle she was about to use as an excuse to put an end to their... meetings, but that was not what happened. She threw him a single look conveying her availability and a smiling Podrick complimented her only to reveal to him, with her reaction, how the growing affection between them was reciprocated.
...It wasn't only his feelings for her that were growing.
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During their following encounters Podrick kept trying to be more mindful, to not let himself get carried away, to think less about his own needs and to be present with her in that bubble where the conversation, silly jests and the laughter between them was enough. He knew she still had reservations and he used the knowledge to stop his hands from wandering too much and cross the line of what was appropriate. But with each passing day, it became increasingly harder to stop.
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Not for the first time, Podrick awoke suddenly in the middle of the night feeling excited and he had to take a deep breath before sliding his hand to his crotch to find what would be the reason for his sleepless night.
A part of him wanted more from her, more kisses, more touching, more temptation, while another part of him didn't because now he could see himself breaking his vows if she asked him to. But then, she would avoid longer and more passionate kisses; during their latest encounters she would even grab his hands to stop him if he tried to go further. It was the same if she felt him getting too close.
More than once he had wanted to kiss her more deeply, to seek her tongue with his and incite her to play with his when normally he didn't even like kissing like that. He just wanted to see how she'd react; who knew? Maybe she would even enjoy it. He was hesitant to do so, he knew —or he assumed— that she wasn't ready for that, he needed only to join all the dots to understand that she was afraid of that kind of intimacy and therefore she would never ask him to break his oath.
So there was nothing for him to worry.
It would all remain in his imagination. In his fantasies.
He closed his eyes imagining her entering his room right then, taking off her cloak and getting in bed with him. He didn't need more. Just to have her by his side, to kiss and caress her. He'd be happy just kissing her and caressing her. Liar!, he chided himself a second later before deciding to indulged in what he really wanted to do to her.
He licked his lips as he conjured the memory of her in a simple wet and translucent sleeping robe, the sight of the heavy curve of her breasts... he envisioned her letting him rid her of that robe, letting him show her what intimacy was really about, he dreamed about her reaction, her surprise at being touched with love for the first time. At being treated with the reverence she deserved. He would be so careful if only the chance presented itself. Instead of feeling excited, however, he suddenly felt a weigh on his chest as he thought about everything she had to have been through to mistrust even someone who worshipped her.
His need suddenly and completely disappeared and he tried to push those thoughts away.
He turned on his belly but his tormenting thoughts and anguish on her behalf left him sleepless for half an hour.
He decided to pursue a more realist line of thought; even if she hadn't gone through so much pain in her marriage —and although plenty of unflattering things were said about her— she had never given him or anyone else the impression that she would act in an unladylike manner… he thought that by now he knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't betray tradition or to act unlike the person her parents had raised her to be, to engage in premarital relations with him or anyone else, even if love was involved.
Did he love her? There was affection between them and lightness in the way they were acting, but it wasn't love. She had made that pretty clear when she told him that she never wanted to marry again. That she didn't believe in love, not the kind that songs and stories spoke of.
But he did believe in love and he felt like he was living in one of those stories and he couldn't stop himself from feeling like he was in too deep and fearing the depth of his affection for her, affection that he knew could very well turn to love if she let him.
"I'm screwed." he whispered to himself.
The next morning, he woke up feeling uncomfortable again, "Damn it!" Podrick cursed… another erection. At least when it happened around her he could hide it under all the heavy clothes and coats because, had she noticed it... well, he could imagine her running in the opposite direction and putting a definite end to their illicit meetings.
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Once she entered her room and took off the cloak, Sansa started getting rid of the front laces and hooks that kept her dress in place and not for the first time she fleetingly imagined Podrick's fingers working on them, a thought that made her blush. She shouldn't be thinking those things but as the maid behind her lifted the dress to help her take it off, she abruptly made contact with that spot between Sansa's neck and her shoulder thus triggering the memory of his lips there, making her shiver.
She felt that lately things were escalating too fast between them only to remember, or to have him remind her, that three or four kisses in a year weren't that many and that they were only making up for lost time.
And quite eagerly, it seemed.
Things were progressing between them; that evening alone, his kisses had unexpectedly traveled from her neck, to her shoulder, to her collarbone and then they had dip a few inches below making her pant.
Instead of an external bodice, she had been wearing a more flimsy, softer one and he wasted no time to kiss her chest, right over the corset line, which was rather low. When he realized she had been struck speechless he didn't stop; instead, he left several more kisses in that same place, putting more and more pressure on the heavy cloth to make her feel his lips and his warm breath.
Now, in the safety and privacy of her room, a part of her wished that he had continued in his pursuit, that he had made direct contact with her skin. But now, just as in the moment it almost came to happen, she was frightened. And he noticed.
Slowly, Podrick rose to embrace her loosely and they stared into each other eyes for an endless moment and she could see itin his eyes, "I'm sorry I got carried away." he whispered apologetically, and he waited until she nodded, "Are you alright?"
Sansa had babbled something then, she had been so confused, she yearned for his kisses, his touch, his attention, but she couldn't bring herself to go further, whether it was because of her past of because of who she was, "I don't know." she admitted.
Podrick nodded a second later, worriedly. Truth was, he had been trying his luck and they knew it, there was nothing more to say, "I'd never go further without your consent. Believe me."
As she changed into her nightshift, Sansa stared at her maid while she put away the dress. And then she was left alone.
She couldn't stop all her instincts from being on high alert. She found that a part of her wanted him as far from Winterfell, from the North, as possible. She didn't know what could transpire if they keep meeting alone like that. She knew that he wouldn't act against her wishes but that wasn't the problem... she suspected that there wasn't a lot that she wouldn't acquiesce to despite being frightened deep inside.
There were very few things that her instincts didn't know much about but love and desire were two of them.
She was starting to suspect that she desired him and that her heart was opening to him in a deeper manner.
But she was a Lady. Her mother had raised her to be one, her Septas too. it was unthinkable to let herself be besmirched out of wedlock; she had always silently passed judgment on women who did; even when she found out about Arya and Gendry Baratheon knowing that she had no say in their lives. But now she thought she understood what it was that led women to set their honor aside.
She knew that there were some aspects of intimacy that felt good to women in the right circumstances but that had been useless talk that hadn't personally meant anything to her because before —and especially after Ramsay— she never came to think in terms of desire or pleasure. But now... all those new sensations that Podrick elicited in her mind, body and soul were overwhelming.
In her past, when Ramsay forced himself on her, she had been somewhat wet between her legs; it had angered him and he used it to humiliate her, telling her that in the end she enjoyed how he treated her. She hadn't understood what he meant by that until one of the maesters discreetly informed her that the wetness between her legs was normal and that it was something her body did to protect itself and it was long after that revelation she came to realize that it was him who fed her moon tea without her knowing about it.
Recently, the wetness was making an appearance and she hadn't been too quick to realize that it normally came after she spent time alone with Podrick. And with each day it seemed to come faster and more abundantly after any kiss and caress; and especially after he kissed her neck.
Twice she had woken up from dreams of slow, endless kisses shared with him, of hands softly touching skin and her feeling something indescribable in her lower abdomen, a pleasurable sensation between her legs and an explosion that awoke her... but she wasn't comfortable enough to ask him or anyone else what was happening.
She only knew that somehow, this new wetness that Podrick unwittingly caused in her meant desire and pleasure.
And he desired her too. She had seen it marked on his clothes a few times, she had felt it by accident too once but they never acknowledged it.
What was most important was that his body's reaction hadn't scared her. She had been befuddled, yes, but not scared. And she even felt some pleasure from knowing, or suspecting, about his reaction to her.
Presently, she couldn't deny that in a couple of occasions she had entertained the thought of what he would do if she asked him to break his vows; she hadn't considered it seriously but the idea had started to solidify in her mind.
But it wasn't like they would get to that point.
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There was that one night that, influenced by the mix of desire and curiosity, Podrick let himself get carried away and his tongue acted on its own accord by slipping between her lips and making contact with hers, which made Sansa reel back in surprise and give him a look that demanded an explanation.
"Don't you want to know about other kinds of kisses?" he asked as he licked his lips and her eyes fixed on them.
"Is that how people normally kiss?" Ramsay had tried that with her a couple of times but... She decided to stray from those memories, Podrick wasn't Ramsay. Not in the slightest. She still felt hot from the blush across her face and from her own excitement provoked by their kisses before that.
The moment was broken by the peck he placed on her head, a thoroughly tender gesture that had her tensing up as they both shared a thought that it was out of pity from her lack of familiarity with these things. "No, not normally."He only kissed like that when he was certain a woman liked it. Then, he found himself mumbling, "I... I'd like to share kisses like that with you." and it was true that he didn't use to kiss like that but... hmmmm, the mere thought of her kissing him like that, slowly, softly and long... he suspected he'd be making a mess in his pants.
Even before asking she knew she wouldn't be comfortable with the answer, "Why?"
He blinked, still unused to verbalizing explanations to her curiosity, since in practice it would be quite different... "...It's more exciting that a normal kiss."
"More exciting?" she asked in disbelief, she'd think that was impossible.
He nodded, licking his lips again, "It's the most intimate kiss there is." Well, the second most intimate one, his mind argued as he looked at her pensive reaction, knowing instinctively that she wouldn't be convinced, "maybe some other time?" he asked in the same playful tone, "Just remember, you can't judge until you try it."
There was truth in that, "... first I'm going to think about your words."
Podrick tried to keep from teasing her but it was hard not to, "An excellent decision, Ma'am."
Sansa didn't like it when he teased her, it made her vulnerable about the things she still ignored and still, she couldn't help herself, "So, what other kind of kisses are there?" A groan from deep in his chest was his answer. That was a sound she had come to appreciate and her body reacted accordingly... just as it had been doing lately and this time her blush appeared from the feel of the wetness flowing fast.
"...That one is...basically...the most passionate one." he decided to answer, "And you're not ready for this conversation, trust me."
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Sansa studied the woman as she gave her that lopsided smile, a mocking, spiteful slime, a smile that spoke of things she didn't know about.
"So now the little dove wants to use her best weapon… whatever for? Love? Curiosity?"
Then Cersei let out a cackle. One intended to make Sansa uneasy.
"You are still perfect even after everything, aren't you?" She took several sips of wine from her cup. "It's a shame you don't know how to use the weapon you have between your legs. Men would die for your beauty. They'd kill for you …And you'll settle for some Knight? Do you know how far you could get if you decided to wield it? What it would mean to have men eating from your palm as you advance your cause, regardless of what your cause is?"
Sansa didn't want to listen to her anymore so she looked around for an escape.
"...Although, if you want to learn how to wield it, who better to teach you than your Knight? I heard he's skillful, maybe even too much. He will do. …Jaime was good too; he learned how to make me enjoy myself. We both learned a lot. And he also taught me what I would need to do with other men when the occasion called for it."
Sansa woke up feeling lost and confused for a moment before feeling mortified at the recollection of her dream.
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Podrick's departure was impending and it could come at any time so that is why the letter from King's Landing ordering him to return immediately didn't come as a complete surprise; his presence as a guard was necessary for the upcoming first official negotiations with Dorne and the Reach.
But although it was expected, it took him a few minutes to recover from his stupefaction. The idea of returning south had him tremendously disappointed and disillusioned because of her and all the progress they had made... because of all the feelings that were at stake.
Why couldn't that damn latter have reached him five months ago? Before things between them went too far...
It actually took him hours, hours! to get his disappointment under control; hours and a horse-ride out of the castle and into the cold as he tried to let wind hit him to bring him to terms with what he already knew; in the end his departure was for the best even if he no longer wanted to leave. With time he would get used to being in the South again.
"…We knew this was coming..." Sansa stated when he showed her the letter. She couldn't help feeling disappointment and melancholic about him leaving. Part of her had wished for it but she had also been dreading his departure. The idea of going back to her loneliness wasn't appealing, but what was life except getting used to things? Besides, he had been an exception in her life, not the rule.
Podrick had honestly expected her to show more shock or distress. "It was a good year and a half," he stated before correcting himself, "excluding the attack, of course."
"Yes. It was a good year, Podrick." She looked at him on a sigh filled with regret for all the time wasted as the letter was slowly but surely taking hold of her emotions; her sorrow felt different from what she had imagined his departure would feel like,it was a fact now. She was aware that she wasn't conveying much so she grabbed him by the wrist that was holding the letter, "...You know I wish you could stay...but we both know that there isn't a valid reason for that."
One reason came to mind; their relationship. But in the end their relationship was not to be, they had no future together, why should he stay? To keep her company, yes, but also to see the next suitor come? And then the one after that? Stay only to witness her marrying and starting a family? No, thanks.The though alone hit him like a punch. "...I'm going to miss you, Ma'am."
She felt her chest tightening and she tried to say it back but she couldn't bring herself to speak such words, and all the while she ironically remarked that he wasn't saying that he wanted to stay. She nodded in defeat. That was the biggest defeat, the fact that he didn't say he wanted to stay.
Why was it that a part of her wanted him to drop everything for her when she wasn't willing to do the same for him?
After a couple of silent minutes, Podrick felt the urge to give her some privacy and so he made to leave but she stopped him to hug him in silence.
"...I'm disappointed." he admitted.
"Me too."
They both knew that what they had wanted and set out to accomplish with their affair had been fulfilled. Their lives were waiting for them after this, after their time together. It wouldn't be easy to go back but if someone knew what it was to move on, that was Sansa, and even if this was a discouraging goodbye, at least this time she got one; she hadn't gotten any goodbyes with half her family.
…And Podrick...Podrick was the kind of person who would carry on expecting good things to come and he had always been lucky to get them. Something better had always come along before.
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Distance had started to grow between them in the following days, and though Sansa didn't reject his kisses and caresses, they didn't feel like before. The joy and happiness between them had vanished.
And the thought of his departure eventually moved into the background thanks to the quarterly meetings between the lords and their Queen.
Sansa was partly grateful for the distractions that kept her quite busy but alone at night as she tried to find some rest, she admitted to herself how much she was going to miss him even if she knew that having him in King's Landing was best for the North.
It didn't even cross Podrick's mind that he could have a choice; his loyalty was owed first to the King of the Six Kingdoms even if in his mind and heart, that was no longer the case. For the first time he regretted that oath. He could remember Lord Tyrion and Bronn advising him against making it but he still did it, never worrying that he could regret it in the future.
Not that his oath to the King changed a thing. She hadn't asked him to stay and he didn't see her sticking her hands in the fire for him, for a future with a disgraced Knight, one without titles or riches. Despite everything they had shared, she was still unattainable to him, so yes, he would treasure what happened between them, he'd miss her, he'd long for her, and he'd dream about her, and love her from afar. But he would go back to King's Landing, the place where he truly belonged...
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