I had just finished taking a bath when I heard a knock on my chamber room door. I tightened my bathrobe, making sure it covered all the marks that Petyr had given me before I went to the door.

"Lady Lysa?" I said in surprise the moment I opened the door. Does she know?

"So, its Lady Lysa now," she said in a cold voice. She forced herself through the doorway and strode into the center of my room, eyeing my wet clothes that was hanging on the back of my bathroom door with suspicion.

"Cloaks that are smeared in mud make people ask awkward questions,"Petyr had whispered into my ear a few hours ago. "But a blanket, such a this, can easily be replaced."

He tore up the blanket into tiny pieces once we had ravished each other fully for the third time. I could still remember the sinister-like smile he wore, as he sliced the thick woolen fabric with careful precision. Once he was done he handed the threads of fabric to me and instructed me to toss it into the heaving sea. "No one will ever know what we've done," he assured me, as he leaned in to kiss my cheek. "Least of all Lysa."

"I know who you are," Lysa blurted out. The sharp tone in her voice quickly brought me back to the present moment. I looked up to see her hawk-like eyes burrowing into mine. "I should have known. Of course, Petyr would risk his neck to save you- Cat's daughter."

She walked towards my wet dress and stroked the wet fabric pensively, as if she was trying to uncover the truth. She lifted the dress off the hook and held it in front of her. Lysa huffed in frustration and threw it back on the hook with a dismissive air. "She never loved him, you know. Oh, she enjoyed him for a little while but when the time came she cast him off without a second thought. But I- I stayed true to the end, and I shall have no one get in the way, especially you."

"You have nothing to worry about, Aunt Lysa," I said softly, feeling like a bird trapped inside of a cage. There was something unsettling about Aunt Lysa, as if the wrong word would set her off completely. I must tread lightly with her, I thought. If only Petyr was here, he would know what to do.

As if my Aunt Lysa had an inkling of where my thoughts were turning to, she said, "Petyr says you are just a child, but when I look at you I see a woman. I shall say this only once- stay away from my husband."

"I don't understand…"

"I see the way he looks at you! I see the way all men look at you, and you enjoy it, don't you? Your just like your mother… proud, arrogant…"

"I am not!"

"No? I heard Ser Dale has asked you to marry him, and still you have not given him an answer."

"I need more time to think about it." It was a feeble excuse, but I had to go along with Petyr's plans. I just hope he knows what he's doing.

"It is either a yes or a no. There is no reason to complicate things."

"I haven't known him for very long yet."

"Liar!" She blurted out. "Do you think I'm a fool? That you can outsmart me! You are so much like your mother. Not even your dyed hair can change that."

"I'm telling you the truth-"

"The truth?" She echoed, a madness seemed to flicker in her eyes. "Tell me, has Petyr touched you?"

"What?" I said out of confusement. This woman really is insane. "No! I swear it by the old gods and the new."

"I will know if you're lying to me!"

"I swear to you he hasn't. Lord Baelish has been nothing but kind to me, but he has not touched me."

She grunted in response, and then moved away from me. "He is kind to you, isn't he? He looks at you and he see's Cat twenty-years ago. Petyr pretends he isn't sentimental but believe me he is. Oh yes, I know him better than anyone. He hides nothing from me."

She edged herself closer to my frame as she said, "Did you know your husband escaped? Yes, its true. The imp is still alive! Which means you are still legally married to him."

No, it can't be! Tyrion is still alive? Petyr said he was to be executed. Was he lying to me? Or was he only telling me half the truth? My right hand began to unconsciously rub my wedding finger on my left hand, as if I could still feel the ghost of the ring I handed over to Petyr a week after I was smuggled onto his boat. I was sad when I first gave it to him, but after a while I felt nothing but relief to know I didn't have to wear that dreadful thing again. I should be happy to hear this news, shouldn't I? But I don't feel happy, I realized, as I stroked my wedding finger harder. I was supposed to be a widow. I was supposed to be free, but now I'm legally married to a King slayer- the man who poisoned King Joffrey. Is that why I feel so empty inside? As if that last bit of hope has been snuffed out.

Lysa smiled at my misery, sensing I wasn't entirely pleased to hear the news. "Petyr hasn't told you, has he? Oh yes, my husband is as slippery as a snake. He can make you believe one thing while he does another. If you believe he is working in your best interest than you are wrong."

My jaw clenched when she said those last few words. She's wrong! Petyr does care for me. He would never betray me. As if she was reading my thoughts again, she said, "Petyr is sending out men as we speak to capture your husband. He is quite determined, as am I, that you should marry my son, Robin, as soon as he is of age. Our two great houses shall be joined together as one. Only then do we strike down the Lannister armies, and remove them from the Iron Throne. So you see, you are nothing to him. You're just a child that needed to be steered in the right direction, so Petyr can reach his final goal."

"And what is that?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"Petyr wishes to be King of all of Westeros, and I have every intention to be his Queen."

I was halfway down the stairs when I heard a door slam to the right of me. I turned my head to see Petyr locking up his solar room door. He slipped the key into an inconspicuous pocket in his cloak before he turned around and froze at the sight of me. "Alayne," he said, a small smile tugged along the right side of his mouth. It was probably rushing back to him, everything we had done to each other in the cave. I could not share this precious moment, however, for my mind was still greatly distressed from the news Lysa had given me.

"He's as slippery as a snake," Lysa had said. But if he is the snake than who is the rat? Who does he prey upon and deceive when no one is looking?

"Alayne? Whatever is the matter?" He asked in a low tone. He slowly walked around the main room, all the while taking me in. He knows something is wrong. I looked away from him and continued down the long, windy staircase, but Petyr was quick to skip up the stairs and box me in. "What are you not telling me?" He asked with concern, his eyebrows knitted together as he studied my blank face.

"It's nothing."

"It doesn't sound like nothing," he observed, noting the sharp tone of my voice.

'Please, just let me pass."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong." He laid a hand on the side of my arm, and added, "You can be honest with me, you know."

"Like you are with me."

"Yes, of course."

"You are such a liar, Petyr!"

Petyr dropped his arm and looked at me gravely. "What do you know?"

"That my husband, Tyrion Lannister, is still alive. Something you conveniently forgot to tell me."

"I thought it was for the best."

"Oh, really?"

"Some lies are love, sweetling," he said soothingly.

"So, it was love that kept it from me?"

"I didn't want to hurt you," he said in a hush tone. He placed both hands to my sides of my arms now, as if he was trying to draw me in. "You should know by now how much I care for you."

"Yes, but-" I stammered out, feeling lost in those beautiful grey-green eyes. "I deserved the right to know what happened to Tyrion."

"You did. Perhaps, I made an error in judgement in not telling you the truth. But believe me when I tell you I thought it was for the best."

"Petyr, I need you to be completely honest with me from now on."

"I will," he breathed, as he enraptured me in his arms.

"Lysa has told me some things- terrible things I refuse to believe in. Still, every lie has some truth in it." I moved away from him, so I could see the truth in his eyes. "Did you tell her you wanted to rule all of Westeros with her as well?"

"I might have implied it," he said with a sheepish grin. "Lies and Arbor Gold does do wonders, especially with a placid mind like Lysa's. She believes anything I tell her-"

"And how do I know you're not doing the exact thing to me?" I interrupted.

"Oh, is that what you think?" Petyr asked slyly. He took a step away from me and leaned against the bannister. His calculating eyes studied me for a moment, his hands swiftly interlaced themselves together before they were pressed down just below his chest. I heard Littlefinger's raspy voice escape his lips as he ask, "You think I'm playing you as well?"

"Once a liar, always a liar."

"You offend me."

"You'll get over it," I quipped. A mischievous smile spread across both of our faces at the same time, proving to me that Petyr and I were more alike than we cared to admit. It was even more apparent when we heard heavy footsteps striding down the hall, and we turned our heads at the same time to see Ser Dale enter the main room.

"Lord Baelish. Alayne. Everyone at the dinner party is waiting for you two. Lady Baelish sent me to look for you."

I still cringed at the mention of 'Lady Baelish,' for some reason it could never sit right with me. Petyr on the other hand, was disturbed by something else for he observed, "You mean you sent yourself. If Lysa truly wanted me she would have come looking for me by now."

Petyr took a few steps down the stairs, eyeing the young knight with careful deliberation. "You take a particular interest in my daughter. That is why you volunteered yourself to coming looking for us. Such devotion, does show the depths of your feelings for Alayne, but I'm starting to wonder if there is more to that…"

What does he mean by that?

"I assure you my intentions are purely honourable."

"Is it?" Petyr asked, as he took another step further until he was eye level with Ser Dale. "Because that's not what I've been hearing. We are not at King's Landing anymore, Braes. The walls are thin here and the drafts can carry voices if you're not careful. Whatever the two of you are playing at- I will find out."

"You are mistaken, my Lord."

"You are very keen to seek her out, are you not? I have heard you spend more time with her than with my men. And you say your intentions are pure…"

"They are!" Sir Dale interrupted.

"And yet, you continue to seek her out even when I made myself quite clear that I wanted you to have nothing to do with my daughter."

"I have already heard your answer, Lord Baelish. I have yet to hear her's."

"Then let's settle this once and for all. Alayne!" He called out and motioned me to come forward. Once I was at his side, Petyr said, "Give him an answer."

But what was I to say? Petyr told me to lead him on, and now he's asking me to give Ser Dale a straight answer. I looked into the Knight's genteel face and saw a wave of emotion flood over his features. I turned to Petyr and saw an inscrutable expression, but his eyes were discerning enough for me to read: they were dark and sinister-like as they burrowed into mine. I sighed as I looked away, and in barely a breath I uttered, "Ser Dale-"

"Just Dale," he interjected.

I suddenly felt a stray finger rub along the back of my hand, as if Petyr was encouraging me on. Some lies are love, I remember he said to me only a few minutes ago. He stealthily interlaced our fingers together, before he gave it a tender squeeze.

"Alayne?" Ser Dale moaned out of pure misery. "Just tell me once and for all, is there any hope for us?"

A lie came to me suddenly, but it seemed so right I blurted it out at once. "I need more time to consider the matter. You would not have me choose between a father and a lover, would you?"

"No, I would not."

"Then let me have time to think about it. I will give you an answer when I'm ready."

"There's your answer, Braes!" Petyr gibed. "Now, tell my wife that I will be there shortly. I have a few more words to say to my daughter- alone."

Ser Dale swiftly turned around and went back from whence he came. Petyr watched the last of his shadow disappear before he pulled me in and kissed me fiercely. He steered me toward the wall and pinned my body against it, it was there that he covered my kiss-swollen lips with dangerously passionate kisses.

"Oh, Petyr," I breathed, as I wrapped my legs around his frame once he lifted me up into the air. Petyr grunted as his clothed member brushed against mine, even after our recent experiences in the cave he still hadn't had his fill of me.

Common sense must have taken over, for he suddenly leveled me to the ground and took a step back. He quickly looked around the main room, afraid that we might have been caught red-handed. There was nothing in the shadows to alarm him, nor was there any sound of us being watched. Petyr turned around and looked at me with a satisfied smile before he whispered, "You did well."

"No thanks to you."

"Well, you did learn from the best." He took a step towards me and kissed me gently, it was fleeting but sincere.

I licked my lips, wishing it could last a second longer. "Why do I feel like the last thread of my morality is gone?"

"My sweet Sansa, that happened when you fucked me not once, not twice…" he paused, and kissed my kiss-swollen lips fervently again. "But three times."

"Please, don't remind me. I still feel it," I said wearily. I slipped past him, while he was still chuckling low to himself and quickly made my way downstairs. If we delayed any longer Lysa would most certainly come looking for us. I would have to spend the next month with her in a small carriage come tomorrow morning, so it would be wise to not anger her further. Petyr seemed to sense my thoughts for he returned to my side once more and rested his hand at the bottom of my spine. The hallway to the dining room was dark, something we both seemed to relish as our lips connected once more. It was a pity that this would be our last time alone together. By tomorrow morning we will be out on the dirt roads, heading towards the Vale, all the while pretending we were father and daughter, and not what we truly were, insatiable lovers.

Author's Notes:

Petyr lied. He wasn't being entirely honest with Sansa. He's hiding something- something big! And unfortunately for Petyr it's a huge wrench in his plans.

What is this "wrench" in his plans you ask? Well, I can't tell you… author's privileges. But what I can tell you is that the past three chapters has been hinting at this inevitable event, and the direction Petyr is going to take since he discovered the truth… that "unfortunate incident" that has thrown his original plans to take the Iron Throne out the window (Figuratively speaking, of course. Petyr would never write his plans down on paper).

So, what is the ill-fated event that has been looming over Petyr and Sansa's head for a while now? The thing that Petyr dreads, but is also ever hopeful for? That wrench that throws his plans for a loop? Well… I guess you'll just have to wait and see.

Enjoy the climb,

petyrbaaaeeelish