I rapped my fingers against the window pane in an agitated manner, while watching the sun slip out of the sky. It was getting late; the fateful hour was fast approaching- but will Petyr come with the night? And did I want him to come? My jaw tightened when I thought of what he had done, and what he said before he slammed the door behind him. "Hateful man!" I thought, as I rapped my nails against the glass window. All the same, I strode towards the ebony chest to make myself look presentable for the approaching hour. I unearthed a pearl-white sheer dress with silver embroidered leaves down the sleeves, waist and the center of my spine. I then brushed out my curly hair and braided it in an elaborate fashion, before settling the brush down at my desk. My hands idly fiddled with the brush, while I watched the shadows flicker across my lonely room, signaling the approachment of night. Suddenly, I heard a low chink of a key bursting through a lock, and the creaking of a door, before Petyr slipped past my bedroom door, locking it behind him. In his hand was a small woolen sack, which he dangled in his hand before he placed it neatly on my bed. It was only then that he looked at me. Petyr's large chest heaved with a quickened breath as his eyes drank me in.

"Lord Baelish," I said coldly.

"Sansa," he breathed. "I am so- so sorry."

"Are you?"

"I am. I shouldn't have touched you- not in that way."

"No! You shouldn't have," I said firmly. "I'm not one of your whores…"

"I would never think that of you," he said in a low voice. Slowly, he strode towards me until his darkened figure was illuminated in the golden sun sun. "Your so much more than that to me."

"I wish I could believe you."

"I once asked you to trust me," Petyr said in a strange tone. His eyes narrowed slightly as he added, "I ask for that same trust now."

"Tell me, Lord Baelish, why should I trust you?" I could feel anger boiling up inside of me, as memories from long ago came flooding back at me. "After all that you've done."

"Sansa, I am not a good man," he said, as he took another step forward; his small stature casting a long shadow across the floor. "But I am not a bad man either. Some of us fall neatly in between. You are wise not to trust me. Wiser than your father ever was! Trust is a weakness, that you northerns' hold far too dearly for my liking. Loyalty on the other hand, is entirely different. If you are so reluctant to trust me than I ask that you stay loyal to me. Loyal as a daughter is to her father. As a wife is to her husband? Could you do that for me?"

"Loyalty?" I sneered. "Loyalty cannot be bought, Petyr, it must be earned."

"Now you really sound like your father!" he said in jest. His lips curled into a mischievous smile as he added, "I have learned there are only two things that really drive a man: women and gold. I am fortunate to have both, and I use them like pawns in a game to get my own way- to reach my own goal."

"And what is that?"

"That- I can never tell," he drawled, his brogue heavier than ever. "But you are right about one thing- loyalty must be earned."

I smiled proudly at him, it was high time Petyr acknowledges that I am almost as clever as him. My smile quickly fell from my lips when Petyr noted, "So you will understand the reason I will never touch you again, not unless you desire me too."

"What? I don't understand…"

"What don't you understand?"

"Isn't that a little extreme?"

"Is it?"

"I don't mind you touching me," I confessed, already feeling my cheeks turning an unnatural hue of red. "Just not in that particular way- not yet. And you were right, Petyr, I am young. Not in age, but with experience, especially when it comes to certain things that happen between a man and a woman. And sometimes- sometimes I forget you're a brothel keeper."

"And I forget you're a virgin," he said slyly.

"Yes, well…" I stuttered. My throat went dry, and I felt like the air was escaping my lungs as Petyr took another step towards me. Gods, why must he stare at me that way, I thought, as Petyr drew closer to my trembling form until he was a breath away. "I…"

"Yes, sweetling?" Petyr was drawing me in, like a spider weaving a web, it was only a matter of time before I was ensnared in his silver silky strings.

"I think…"

"Yes," he droned. "I thought the same thing."

I opened my mouth to give him a clever retort, but his lips swooped down and pressed hard against it. Each kiss was fervent and fierce, as if he was starved of the taste- desirous of the feeling of his lips on mine. "Oh, Sansa," he breathed, as he drew his lips away for a moment.

"Petyr, I can't give you what you want?" I said through quickened breaths.

Petyr replied by kissing my lips slowly, stretching out a single kiss to make it last for an eternity. He's teasing me, I thought, as his hands fled down the length of my spine and bunched up the folds of my dress in the palm of his hand. He quickened the pace of his kisses, encouraging me to join into his fanciful game. He knew it was only a matter of time, till I gave in. My body began to shudder from his touch, every atom in my body craved more of it; desire struck me like a lightening bolt, a strange frenzy took over me as his lips continued to draw me in. But if I give in to my desire- will I be able to stop myself from going to far? "Please, Petyr, I need more time!"

Petyr leaned back, licking his lips in a teasing manner. "We all the time in the world, love."

"Yes, well…" I stammered. My head felt light and dizzy, as though the room was spinning around in circles. What is he doing to me, I wondered, noticing the most sacred places of my body began to ach in pain.

"Let me know when you remember your train of thought," Petyr taunted. He took my hand and led me towards the mysterious sack that sat upon the bed. "I've brought a present for you."

"Peytr," I said with annoyance. I knew that sly smile all to well, he was just buttering me up.

"We have long days ahead of us, or as you northerns like to say, Winter is Coming. I can only hope this present will make your travels more comfortable." He pulled out a long winter cloak, and held it up before my eyes hoping to win approval. The style and cut of the cloak was similar to his own, which he currently dawned on this cold autumn evening. I was pleased to find that my cloak had a hood and a thick fur collar to shut out the cold. Petyr must have sensed I was pleased, for he went around me and draped the cloak over my shoulders. "My daughter shall have the very best."

I looked down marveled at the intricate details embroidered into the sleeves, the complexities of the clasp that ran down my chest, and how the cloak fit me perfectly, too perfectly- as if he knew my exact measurements. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, a silent question unwilling to escape my lips, as if in answer Petyr shot me a knowing smile before turning away.

"I have one last thing to give you." He was unable to contain his excitement now, as he pulled out a tiny box with green and black trimmings; denoting the infamous colour of his house. "I hope my daughter will wear it proudly."

I took off the lid and found a silver mockingbird pin. I gasped aloud, before I pulled it out of the box and held it high in the air. Holding it between my thumb and index finger I watched it glisten in the sun's golden rays, noticing how the eye sparkled with malice at the approachment of night. It was beautiful.

"Do you like it, Sansa?"

"I do." I breathed. The more I looked at it, the more the silver pin seemed to claim me as its own. It's just as bewitching as Petyr is, I contemplated, as my finger ran up and down the curious pin. "It's beautiful, Petyr."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yes." To prove my words were true I closed the awkward gap between us, until there was barely any space between our own shadowy forms. The room darkened, as my tall stature blocked out the last beams of light from my cabin window. The air was stifled, tense, as if it awaited an impending doom- a moment that could alter our fates all together. "I love it."

"Sansa," Petyr said in a raspy voice. "I have one last present for you, but you must allow me to take your hand. Will you me give me the honour?"

"Of course, I will." He reached for my hand, and to my surprise he interlaced our fingers together. The act was strangely intimate, it sent a rush of blood to my head. He gently tugged me away from the last of the light, and steered me across the darkened room till we reached my door.

"Pull up your hood. I can't risk someone recognizing that famous auburn hair of yours," he teased. With a gentle peck on my cheek, he turned and led me out the door.

A blast of cold air hit my face the moment I stepped out into the open deck. I leaned into Petyr's frame, as the wind flapped my thick winter cloak with envy. We slowly made our way to the edge of the deck, before leaning against the bannister to look out at the open sea. "It's beautiful," I breathed, as I marveled at the purple sky and burnt orange sun melting into a sea of glass.

"I thought you'd like it," he whispered. Petyr leaned his back against the bannister. His great arms spread out across the railing; long sleeves flapping in the wind, mimicking the wings of a large black bird. Unconsciously, I stroked the silver mockingbird pin at my neck. "Do you know how a mockingbird chooses its mate?"

"Like any other bird," I teased.

"No," he replied, in a serious tone. "In the daytime they sing songs, all sorts of songs- mimicking other birds around them. But not one note rings true, it's just an allusion to draw them near. But once the sun finally sets- and the stars twinkle across the night sky, will the mockingbird sing its own song, a strange- almost enchanting melody. It is strange…"

"What is?"

"Only then does its true mate appear," he said. The lids of his eyes shut, and his head lowered to the ground. I watched his black curls shake in the wind, and his silver temples imitating the moon's pale rays; he looked handsome under the blazing sky.

"I want to hear your song." I stepped towards him, and slowly enraptured him in my tight embrace. My fingers stroked through his long raven locks, and my cheek nuzzled against his own until there was no space between us. "I want to hear you sing."

"You might not like what I have to say," he droned into my ear.

"No, your wrong," I confided.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because- because I love you," I breathed.

Petyr dropped his arms to his side and stepped away from my embrace. With pursed lips he tilted his head slightly to see the moon's rays illuminate my face. I noticed his eyes began to soften the longer he looked at me. Suddenly, the lids of his eyes shut, cutting out the perceptibly of his emotions that was so often seen in his grey-green eyes. In a strained voice he asked, "Is this true?"

I stepped into his shade and kissed those lips that I have learned to adore. They melted into mine, just as the sun had done to the night sky. This feels right, I thought, while my cold hands wrapped around his solid frame and pulled him closer into mine. "Yes, its true," I confided, my mouth kissing around the sharp curve of his ear.

I thought I heard Petyr inhale a quick breath. "Oh, Sansa," he whispered, soft kisses trailed the length of my neck. His voice was high pitched, almost filled with ecstasy as he said, "Oh my sweet, sweet Sansa."

His trembling fingers ran through the length of my hair, forcing the braids to unravel out of place and cascade down my back. Like my hair, Petyr was unraveling me- making me want him more than words could ever say. The sharp sucking against my skin, the soft scrapping of his teeth down the length of my neck, the way his nails dug into my scalp set a fire within me. Desire, it made my hands tremble and my breath quicken at an ungodly pace. "Oh, Petyr!" I moaned as his lips caressed the sharp bone along my collar bone, as his fingers worked hard to unclasp my cloak. Desire, it made me rub myself harder against his frame, keenly aware of the warmth spreading between my legs the harder I pushed. Desire, it flamed like an uncontrollable fire as Petyr nibbled at my raw, icy skin. "Petyr please," I groaned. "Touch me anyway you like."

"Sansa, you know I can't…"

"Please, don't argue. Just for once in your life do as your told!" I barked back. The aching was getting worse, the more Petyr's lips wandered below my collar bone.

Petyr shot me a coy smile, while glancing up at my contorted face. "Oh, my sweet child, you've seen nothing yet."

"Then show me!" Feeling brash, I clutched his wrists and pulled them down my sides until it reached the bottom of my hips. I was not afraid of what could come next- not anymore.

"I don't touch my whores," he said, the thought seemed to come out of nowhere. "There just business… I take no pleasure in them."

"At this moment I really don't care."

"Yes, but you said I treated you like one of my whores earlier…."

"Petyr, I was angry with you!" I interrupted, wishing he would drop the subject entirely and just kiss me already.

"I know. In the end, you had every right to be. If I ever make you feel uncomfortable again, tell me and I will stop. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, I promise." A violent storm rolled across the night sky now; the clouds darkened, the crescent moon veiled from our view, a mournful wind howled across the deck. Is this a warning, I thought, as the vengeful wind came 'round again to knock us off our feet for a moment.

"Sansa," Petyr yelled into my ear, trying to deafen out the low howling of the wind. "Do you have any idea how much I care for you?"

"Enough for you to smuggle me out of King's Landing," I taunted.

Petyr chuckled under his breath. He moved his face away so that he could see me, only then did he utter, "I do care for you. More than you could ever know."

"You know most people say, 'I love you,'" I gibed.

"I'm not like most people."

"No, you're a mockingbird," I replied. I paused for a moment to consider those dark grey-green eyes reflecting the stormy skies. "But you're my mockingbird."

Petyr unexpectedly picked me up, and I let out a shriek as he carried me across the wooden deck. Steadily he carried me down the wooden steps, looking around to see if anyone was there, before he continued his long jaunt down the narrow halls. It wasn't until I was outside my cabin door that he set me down next to his own weary frame. "Your getting to old for this," I said mockingly, noticing the quick laboured breaths that escaped him now.

"I am nearly twice your age," he pointed out. I noticed his accent had slightly changed, it was rougher, almost like the northern dialect but it was thickly laced with something else- something new.

"It's alright, Petyr, I like older men."

"Is that so?" he asked. A mischievous smile played upon his face, the moment he penetrated the lock with his golden key.

"I've heard they're more experienced. At least that's what Margaery told me."

"And she would know," he said slyly. "The amount of times she's snuck into my brothels."

My mouth gapped open in surprise, which made Petyr chuckle under his breath. The wooden door burst open, and with one sharp merciless tug he pulled me into the darkened room.