Author's Note: Thank you again for the reviews and support! With the introduction of Sansa, I will be doing some snippets of a few chapters from her point of view. So the beginnings of that will be introduced in this chapter. Her perspective will give us a glimpse into events that Jaime and Amarah don't have a perspective on but that are still essential to my story. Those who have read the books will understand more quickly what's going on, but if you haven't read them, don't worry. All will be explained eventually:) Hope you enjoy!
The Eyrie: Seat of House Arryn
Sweetrobin was dead. Sansa sat by the little corpse and stroked his hair as she had so many times before, singing soft songs to soothe his troubles. Although, he had no troubles to soothe now. They were vanished along with his soul. As a stray tear tricked down her face and splashed onto the stone slab, Sansa pressed one last kiss to the deceased boy's pale, cold cheek before rising with a heavy heart.
She proceeded to the gardens where she had spent a great deal of her time while residing in the Vale. When Petyr had first brought her here, she had quickly discovered the desolate little space in the courtyard of the keep. No plants grew there; no life was able to flourish in the stony earth, but Sansa cared little about that. It was the only place here that truly reminded her of home.
Home, she thought with a wistful smile. For so long Petyr had been promising to take her home. Once all our plans have fallen into place, we'll go home together, Alayne, he had assured her, calling her by the false name that had taken the place of her own. Alayne Stone, the bastard daughter of Lord Baelish. It was the only name she ever heard now. Even Petyr who knew her true name would call her nothing else. In order to make the deception believable, my dear, we must create our own truth.
Our truth. Sansa considered those words with the slightest of sneers. Petyr sought to disguise his plans and scheming as something designed with her in mind, but she was beginning to uncover truth of the matter. She was simply a means to an end for Lord Baelish. She had tried to accept his words of kindness and reassurance. Perhaps his stolen kisses had meant that he sought to regain her lost home simply as a means of showing his odd affection for her. However, the death of her little cousin had caused a wave doubt to drown out those hopes and desires.
Now the man Petyr wished to marry her off to, the only surviving member or the Arryn family, would inherit this fortress, thereby gaining Petyr two of the most powerful strongholds in the seven kingdoms in one fell swoop. All he had needed to accomplish it was a dash of poison in a young boy's nightly drought. He would never confess such a misdeed, of course, but deep down Sansa knew the truth. The mysterious manner of her aunt's tragic death had sparked the first flicker of doubt, but Sweetrobin's death had confirmed them. If she agreed to his wishes and married Harry as he urged her to do, would she not be as guilty as he in the death of her young cousin? Could she willingly play a part in such a cold-blooded charade with a clear conscience? Did she even wish to aid the man who had deceived her, perhaps led her astray even more than the rest?
When he had first whisked her away from the capital to her aunt's fortress, Sansa had truly believed he did it all with her best interests at heart, but it seemed now that Petyr was just like everyone else. Simply using her as a means to their own ends.
As soon as the thought formed in her mind, it was immediately overshadowed by an oft recalled memory that had gradually transformed from terrifying to strangely comforting the longer she was given to ruminate on it. In her mind's eye she could still see that half burned head lit by the eerie green glow of the wildfire surrounding the city. I can take you with me. Take you to Winterfell. It had been the most selfless offer she had ever heard, given by the most terrifying yet fascinating man she had ever met.
She sat soundlessly on the snow covered earth before closing her eyes and losing herself in the memory of his rough, brutal voice. I'll keep you safe. How odd it was that such comforting words could have been spoken by such a terrifying creature, though she didn't find him quite as frightening now. Sometimes, she even allowed herself to imagine what might have happened had she been brave enough to accept his offer. I'll keep you safe¸ he had said. Thinking back on his words now, as she so often did, Sansa found herself believing it more and more.
"Ah, here you are, my dear," Petyr's voice abruptly swept away Sansa's brooding thoughts of Sandor Clegane. "I know this must be dreadful for you, losing him so suddenly, but it was the nature of his illness I'm afraid. Though, it might comfort you to know he no longer suffers from his afflictions."
"You are right, of course, my lord," Sansa automatically responded, though she made certain to inject a hint of sincerity in her voice in order to keep from alerting him of her suspicions in the role he had played in her little cousin's passing. "He's free from the suffering now."
Petyr stepped closer and offered his hand to help her rise. Sansa grasped the offered limb before she found herself being pulled to her feet in a closer proximity to him than she would have preferred. "It's best to think of it that way, my dear," he murmured gently before moving his hand to lightly trace the porcelain skin of her cheek. He had moved close enough now for his breath to brush across her mouth which he eyed with a heavy lidded gaze, as if he intended to kiss her again.
She had always accepted those kisses with passive acceptance, never viewing them with either pleasure or aversion, but as she saw his tongue flick out to wet his lips in anticipation of another mating of their lips, she felt an unexpected knot of revulsion well inside her breast, forcing her to take a hasty step out of his embrace. When he realized that she would not permit his familiar touch, Petyr's eyes darkened the slightest bit in displeasure.
"Forgive me, my lord," Sansa hastened to apologize in order to distinguish that glimmer of disapproval. "I'm feeling rather fatigued. I beg you would excuse me."
That answer seemed to pacify his prickled pride for the look in his eyes slowly slipped into a more patronizing expression. "Of course, but I would ask you to ready yourself for evening meal in the High Hall. Harry will be joining us tonight for we have much to discuss."
Sansa disciplined herself not to react to the news of the new heir, and her assumed betrothed, joining them so soon after Sweetrobin's death. Nodding her head like the obedient little bird she had once been accused of resembling, she ceded to his wishes. "Certainly, I will meet with you again this eve."
"When you return to your rooms, you'll find a new handmaid there," Petyr informed her just as she prepared to walk away. "A young peasant they found wandering the Vale with her brother. Normally we wouldn't take on such refuse, but she expressed a keen desire to serve us here and I didn't see the harm in granting her request. If she displeases you, be certain to let me know and we shall dispose of her."
Sansa nodded her head in agreement, though she had only partially heard all that he told her. Her mind was currently occupied with matters slightly more significant than new handmaids. Taking her leave of Petyr, she reentered the faintly warmer atmosphere of the keep to return to her rooms. As she reentered the familiar space, Sansa saw the maid Petyr had mentioned, stoking a fire in the large hearth at one end of the room.
Seeing she was no longer alone, the little maid quickly jumped from her crouched position by the rough-hewn, wood logs to greet her lady. "Forgive me, m- m'lady, I d- didn't mean to disturb you," she stumbled slightly over her words in a nervous manner. "They said you would be out in the garden for much longer than this."
As the girl talked, Sansa took the opportunity to examine her face. She did have the look of a lowborn female just as Petyr had said, though her face was prettier than most servant girls. Despite her comeliness, Sansa's gaze was drawn to the crooked nose in the middle of her face that looked as if it had been smashed in with a hammer. Sansa hated to imagine what nasty incident could have caused such an ugly looking injury.
Another feature that undermined her pretty looks was the mouth full of gaping holes where several of her teeth should have resided. Sansa felt a tug of sympathy for the young girl who had been robbed of her full loveliness by some mysterious tragedy. Attempting to ignore the sight of her crooked nose and missing teeth, Sansa gave the girl the kindest of smiles she could muster in order to set her nerves at ease.
"Please don't trouble yourself," she assured her. "I usually am in the gardens this time of day, but I found myself in need some rest."
Sensing Sansa's reason for her appearance as a dismissal, the maiden bobbed an awkward curtsey before shuffling towards the door in retreat. "Good day, m'lady."
"Wait!" Sansa managed to just stop her before she disappeared behind the door. "You'll be required to attend me before the evening meal."
Her crooked nose scrunched up in thought at Sansa's reminder. "When should you like me to return, m'lady?"
"Within the hour, I suppose," Sansa returned with a weary sigh. "It won't be long before Harry arrives."
A spark of curious interest lit the girl's eyes at that name. "Is he meant to be your husband?
"Petyr wishes it," Sansa replied before realizing she had called Lord Baelish by his given name, and she quickly moved to correct the mistake. "My father wishes it."
An unexpected spark of recognition flickered in the girl's eyes at Sansa's minor error, but it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared. "I see," she murmured, though her words seemed to be more for her own benefit than Sansa's. "I will return shortly, m'lady."
"What is your name?" Sansa's halted her exit for a second time.
The girl opened her mouth, revealing its toothless contents, before it snapped abruptly shut. Sansa thought then that the girl might ignore her request, when she seemingly reconsidered her decision to remain silent. "Pia, m'lady. My name is Pia."
"I'll expect to see you again within the hour, Pia." Sansa finally consented to dismiss her.
Pia dropped another of her awkwardly balanced curtseys and promptly disappeared into the hall. Sansa considered calling her back to ensure she knew her way around the keep but decided against it. The girl would have to learn to fend for herself here. Instead, Sansa watched the door latch click in place before wandering to her fur covered bed and flopping down on the warm coverings for a short bit of restless sleep.
If Sansa had bothered to watch her handmaid's progress as she had originally thought to do, she would have likely been perplexed by the maid's path towards the upper towers rather than the kitchens where she belonged. She might also have noticed the slip of parchment hidden between the folds of the girl's grimy dress. Sansa might have realized that there was much more to this shy, stuttering maid than first met the eye.
The Lannister Camp: one day's ride from The Vale
"It's here."
At Jaime's announcement, Amarah looked up from another of her pathetic attempts to mend one of her stockings. "She sent the raven?"
He nodded his head in affirmation before extending the message that Pia had managed to send them from the keep. Amarah reached out to accept the missive, but her fingers drew back at the last moment just before grasping the yellowed parchment. Jaime regarded her with a perplexed look at her reluctance to accept the message.
"What if she isn't there, Jaime?" Amarah gave voice to the fear that prevented her from reading Pia's news from the Vale. "What if– "
"I would suggest you read it before contemplating the worst, Princess," Jaime interrupted her before reaching out to gently press the note into her outstretched fingers.
Amarah steeled herself not to react too strongly to whatever message Pia had managed to send them and carefully unrolled the note before lifting it closer to her eyes to better read it in the dim candlelight. She reread the brief message twice before finally lowering it again and moving her focus to the man who stood just beside her.
"Well?" he prompted her to reveal the contents of the note.
Amarah laid the missive aside before rising from her stool and striding to the opposite side of the tent to peer out the open tent flap at the mountains just beyond. "She says that Lord Baelish gave them refuge as we had hoped. Peck's been sent to work in the stables, but Pia has been designated as the handmaid to Baelish's bastard daughter, Alayne Stone as she is called."
Her back was turned away from him, but she could imagine the look of revelation that would gradually dawn in those jade colored eyes. "Petyr Baelish has no bastard daughter."
"No, he has not." Amarah turned away from the sight of the snow-covered peaks jutting up into the starry sky to face her golden lion. "The girl is the right age, but Pia cannot be certain if it is her as she's never seen my cousin before, being tucked away in Harrenhal for most of her life as she has been."
Jaime pondered her words for a moment before venturing his opinion. "The chances of Baelish having a fabricated bastard the same age as your cousin are slim indeed. I've never been the wagering type, Princess, but if I had to venture a guess, I would say you've finally managed to find the lost wolf. Not a moment too soon, I might add. At my count, we have only thirteen days left to fulfill the bargain with Stoneheart."
Amarah's relieved smile suddenly withered at his reminder of their bargain. Thirteen days to find a way to retake the Eyrie from Littlefinger and rescue her captive cousin. Despite the strength of Jaime's forces, it would take nothing short of a miracle for them to successfully stage an invasion of the fortress of the Vale. Not only was the structure itself impenetrable, but the narrow meandering path that led to it through the mountains left any army of meager or great size open to attack from the archers in the towers. It seemed a virtually impossible task.
They had decided to camp along the way and send ahead two well-placed but inconspicuous spies who were capable of discovering the information necessary to spur their attack. Pia had been the perfect choice. She was a serving girl from the fortress of Harrenhal, and Jaime had managed to rescue her when his forces had passed through the keep at the start of his campaign through the Riverlands. Jaime had secretly confessed to Amarah that he pitied the girl after seeing the damage Gregor Clegane's hammering fist had inflicted on her once pretty face. A short time after joining the company, she had taken Jaime's squire Peck as her lover, though not before Jaime had cautioned the boy to treat her with respect.
From what Amarah had observed, she was a fairly intelligent girl, and the person assigned to infiltrate the fortress would need to be unknown to Petyr Baelish in order for the deception to be carried out successfully. As he was already aware of most those in their company, Amarah had been left with precious few options at her disposal. It had taken little convincing on her part to talk Pia into volunteering for the task. She had felt vaguely guilty at first, asking such a great risk from a girl who had already suffered much, but Pia had been most eager to repay Jaime's kindness to her.
Peck had been unwilling to allow the girl to take on the risk alone, so both had traveled along the mountain path two days past, posing as peasants who had lost their way and in dire need of shelter. The fact that the two had been granted places of service in the keep had been fortunate indeed. Now with Pia's news of Alayne Stone, the flame of hope that had simmered just below the surface of Amarah's consciousness had begun to burn a bit brighter. Only the knowledge of how difficult a siege would prove kept the flame from growing to a full, roaring blaze.
"Why do you suppose he's keeping her there?" Amarah wondered aloud after her mind had finally managed to grasp the fact that her search had finally come to an end.
"You can ask Baelish that yourself when we take the keep," Jaime answered her as he moved to exit through the opening of the tent.
Amarah followed his progress with an inquisitive look. "What do you plan to do?"
Jaime quickly retraced his steps to press a reassuring kiss to the little lines of worry marring her brow. "Don't fret about that. You've done enough worrying for the both of us, Princess. Remember that faith you have in me? Rely on that faith and trust me to successfully retrieve this elusive cousin of yours."
It had never been easy for Amarah to place her fate in the hands of others, but looking at Jaime's earnest expression now, she understood that she could entrust him with these tiring burdens. He wouldn't fail her as so many had before. Amarah knew she would never easily lean on another for the strength she needed, but for Jaime, she was willing to try.
"Very well," she finally agreed in a tight voice.
Jaime rewarded her agreement with another kiss, but this one was placed on her mouth instead and lingered much longer than the one before. Once he lifted his head, Jaime resumed his path in the direction of the dark night beyond the torches of Amarah's tent. Just before he was gone from sight, he looked back to send some parting words over his retreating shoulder.
"Get some rest, Princess. I have a raven to send."
Thanks for reading! I had fun writing some of this chapter from Sansa's POV. The San/San fan in me is just chomping at the bit to get to some scenes between her and Sandor:) Obviously, this is Amarah's story and will be mainly about her and Jaime, but I can't help but work in a few scenes to satisfy my craving to see more of Sansa's strange but beautiful connection with Sandor Clegane. Also, I hope to have the next chapter out soon so we can all be let in on Jaime's plan. Any comments will be much appreciated like always! Those definitely help inspire my creativity:)
A/N purple sky always: Actually, most of the tension will be between Amarah and Sansa. That's not a relationship I've taken the opportunity to expand on yet in this story, so a reunion between them will offer up some nice possibilities with reconnecting the two and possibly dealing with some abandonment issues on Sansa's end. Thanks for your comments!
A/N klandgraf2007: That's absolutely my favorite aspect of their relationship to write about, so I'm happy you're enjoying it. Thank you so very much for your continued and faithful support of this story!