Author's Notes:
As I sit in front of my writing desk listening to Keaton Heason's "You" on repeat, I realize just how far I have come on this fanciful journey as a writer, and how much time I have invested in this story that I have grown to love over these past several months. I'd like to thank you all for taking the time to read this fic. Your comments and likes have encouraged me to go on, even when I struggled with my own doubts and fears. I could not have done it without you. I'd like to thank _ especially, for always being there to listen to my strange ideas for this fic and others that will most certainty follow in the near future. Its been a ride, but I hope you all enjoyed the climb.
Petyrbaaaeeelish
I was resting underneath a shady bower, watching the young boy, Wyatt, play with the snow. He was building a snow castle, like the one he had often seen in his dreams. It reminded me of Winterfell, it reminded me of home.
Bryden quietly sat beside me, crossing his legs with careless ease before he turned his head to look at me. "You've been quiet lately."
"I was thinking…"
"About?" he asked in a calm voice, mirroring the peaceful surroundings around us.
"Home. Where you guys are taking me? If I'll ever see Petyr again?"
"You'll see him. You just need to be patient, that's all."
"It's been nearly a month since you gave me that letter and we're still traveling."
"On foot, mind you. If we all had horses' it would be much faster. Look, I know you don't see it but we're doing the best we can."
"I know. I'm sorry, Bryden, I just get frustrated sometimes-"
"Which is totally understandable," he interrupted. "Seeing how head over heels you are about Lord Baelish."
I turned my head in surprise, not seeing this coming at all.
"I think it's safe to assume that Dale is not the father-"
"Bryden…"
"It's alright, you don't have to explain. I had my suspicion for a while now. Besides, anyone who pretends to be your father for that long is bound to…"
"To what?"
"I don't know. Fall in love with you?"
"Are you angry with me," I said quietly, as I continued to watch Wyatt heap large mounds of snow together.
"I'm disappointed, that's all. I wish you told me the truth, but I suppose that's asking to much of you."
"What does that mean?" I asked defensively.
"Anyone who spends that much time with Littlefinger is bound to get corrupted. I just though you were different."
"And who are you to judge?"
"Look… you know what… forget I said anything!" He stood up and brushed off the snow before he turned to leave.
"Bry, wait! I'm sorry for lying to you. I should have told you the truth. I did love Dale… just not in that way."
"I understand," he said solemnly. He offered me a small smile before he turned to leave.
I sighed and went over to the small boy, taking in the rapid movements of his hands as he built the snowy walls. I wonder if Petyr would like a boy, I wondered, or a pretty little girl with bright auburn hair? I rubbed my stomach profusely, wishing Petyr was here to see the largeness of my stomach. I let out a long sigh, trying to fight back the tempest of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.
"Did you make a garden?" I asked, hoping much trivial conversation would distract me from my fit of melancholy.
"I don't like gardens."
"Oh? But you need a garden. How else will you get fresh vegetables?"
"I guess," he said moodily, the boy was just as wretched as I was.
"Could I build it over here?" I asked and pointed to an empty spot just outside the walls.
"Sure."
I rolled the snow into a ball in my hands and began to build the garden in companionable silence. Petyr would be good at this, I mused, he would know exactly how the garden should be laid out. All neat and orderly like everything else he owns.
"Did you have a garden at Winterfell?" the boy asked, after he propped up his head to take a good look at me.
"No. It was too cold. The Vale had beautiful gardens though, even in late autumn some flowers still bloomed." My cheeks turned a violent shade of red as I remembered the last time Petyr and I were in a garden.
I was alone and miserable as I suffered through my early days of pregnancy, but I found some hope of happiness in the charming gardens of the Vale. Tree, shrub, grass and flower all held their own enticement for me, all capturing my attention in some way. One flower in particular held my attention: an azure blue prairie gentian, the very same one I found next to an aspen white tombstone only a month ago, it brought me back to The Fingers and the happy memories I found amongst the rolling hills and roaring sea of that great land. I picked up this flower again, silently hoping Petyr would appear but to my disappointment he did not. I twirled the flower around my finger aimlessly, watching the blue whirlwind come to life in my hands. The wonderous sight and such memories which flickered across my mind, thus, prompted an old folk song to escape my lips without me meaning to:
Dream, dream, dream of this plent'ful land,
Dream, dream, dream of the sapphire sand,
Dream of the crystal-clear mountain tops
Where we watched the sun in the morning.
A deep voice amongst the untamed brambles behind me suddenly sung out:
Dream, dream, dream of the golden heath,
Dream, dream, dream of the silver streams,
Dream of the fog 'cross the rolling heath,
Where we watched the sun in the morning.
"Petyr!" I cried out, as I watched his darkened figure appear amongst the thorny bushes.
"Good morning, my love," he said sweetly. His hands reached out to hold my own, eagerly pulling me forward till no gap stood between us. "How's fitting that I should find you in the garden," he said in a cheerful voice, the corner of his lip curling into a mischievous smile.
"You were looking for me?"
"When am I not looking for you," he bemoaned, before he leaned in to kiss me. "I miss you."
"But you saw me at breakfast this morning!"
"That's not the same thing, and you know it," he chided. He cupped my cheeks and looked into my frosty blue eyes with wonder.
"What is it?"
"I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you. What do you see in a person like me?"
"I don't know," I teased, while I stroked small circles into the sleeve of his doublet. "A wealthy man that will take care of me."
"Funny," he said with scorn, and scolded me with kisses.
I should have told him the truth, I realized, as I sat in a heap of snow watching Wyatt finish the last of the castle.
"What happened to your garden?" he asked with vague disinterest.
"I- I don't feel like making a garden anymore," I said in a strained voice, and got up to leave before my emotions got the better of me.
The wind softly blew through my auburn tresses, as I stood upon a rocky crag, gazing out at the endless shore. It had been a long journey, but I was sure this is where Petyr intended my journey to end. The early morning dawn was just breaking; a pale purple streak stretched across the cloudless clime, while the small curve of the morning sun threatened to blaze through. I sighed at the beauty, and the wonder of three glorious ships docked at the bay. One of the was meant for me, I was sure of it.
"Come on, Sansa!" Wyatt cried, as he took my hand and led me down the beaten path. The child was giggling with excitement, his sound blending well with the full-hearted song of a skylark overhead. We stepped upon a wooden platform, our forms mingling with other fellow passengers waiting to step aboard the ship. The boy was jumping up and down with excitement now, as we could hear the sailors' voices singing up above.
"Hold on you two! You need money to get on board the ship, don't you?" he asked, before he pulled out a pouch full of coins and dropped it in each of our hands. "We're nearly there."
I smiled and looked out at the sea, noticing the sudden change from only moments ago. The sea was as green as Petyr's eyes, so soft and serene it made my heart ache at the sight of it. The sky took on a red hue, snuffing out the last of the pale purple streaks that once graced the sky. The sun was like a beacon of hope as its fierce, awesome rays illuminated the world around me.
"Are you crying, my dear?" Oswell asked, as the bright flavescent light shined upon my face.
"I'm just happy, that's all."
"Aye, so am I," he said. He patted me on the back lightly as he watched the platform level for the passengers, signaling it was now safe to go aboard. We joined the line and waited in silence, as we watched each person go on board the ship at a leisurely pace.
I suddenly recalled the moment Petyr lifted me aboard the ship; the sharp scent of mint hit me when our faces were so close together. Was that the moment I first fell in love with him? Was it a gradual progression? Or was it sudden like the night when we first made love? It didn't really matter anyways, our love was as boundless as the depths of the sea, endless like the morning sun that rises each day- never ceasing, always hopeful for tomorrow.
How hopeful I was when I placed a handful of coins into a sailor's hand and stepped onboard the ship. I hardly took in what the men were saying as they steered me toward my open cabin.
"Sansa," a man said, after he stepped in front of our path. He was a dark man with a foreign air, he wore the Captain's uniform proudly as he stood upright before us.
"Yes?"
He smiled at me, making his wind burnt face soften as he looked at me. "You're to come with me."
Bryden went over to hug me, sensing this was a final farewell. "You take care of that child, you hear," he chided, after he kissed me at the side of the cheek. Wyatt wrapped himself around my legs, most reluctant to let me go. Oswell laughed at the spectacle and gave me a hug with a twinge of melancholy once he broke our embrace.
"He'll take care of you better than I ever will," he reasoned, as he took in the flushed complexion in my once pale cheeks. "I'm happy for the both of you."
The Captain nodded his head in acknowledgement once I took my place by his side. "You'll have a much finer cabin than your friends. Don't worry I'll make sure they're taken care of," he assured me with a strong accent.
"That is good to hear. Where is this ship taking me?"
"Everywhere. We stop all along the northern coasts, and then we sail outwards to Braavos. This is a traveling ship, so everything is designed for your comfort."
He led me up a narrow wooden staircase and down a darkened hall where no sun could shine through. He stopped at a wide door and uttered, "I can only hope this room meets your satisfaction."
I placed the key into the golden lock and heard a familiar chink, which brought back memories from long ago. I pushed open the door to find the sunlight blinding me from an open window. A stream of golden light forced its way into my eyes, until a shadowy figure eclipsed it.
"Sansa," he breathed, before he took a step forward. I fought back the tears, as the sun illuminated his shape.
"Petyr," I said in a strained voice, my hands reaching out to touch his shadowy form.
"You are so beautiful," he said, as the golden light made my hair take on a fiery shade of red and the bump in my stomach was revealed in all its glory. He took another step forward with his hands reaching out for mine. "Sansa, I-" his voice broke from the emotion, which quickly overwhelmed him. "I'm so sorry."
"I forgive you," I said in a clear voice before I ran towards him and held him in my arms. His restless hands wandered up to cup the sides of my cheeks before he kissed me zealously. Our kisses were long and deep, each starved of each other's taste.
"Are you crying, my love?" he asked, gingerly wiping away a few tears with the sides of his thumb.
"I missed you, Petyr."
"And I missed you," he replied, before he kissed me on my brow. "More than you will ever know."
I grabbed hold of his doublet and pulled him in, so I could kiss him again.
"Did you lock the door, Sansa?" he asked in a husky voice, a wicked smile was quickly spreading across his lips.
"Lock it for me," I said with a strange tone of command. "I'll get out of these filthy traveling clothes. I want you to see me, Petyr, all of me."
His eyes glistened with expectation. "Oh, I have missed this," he mused, before he practically ran towards the door. My dress was hardly off before his deft hands tore it down the seams. "I'll buy you a new one," he teased, and threw the torn garment to the ground. A sharp inhale escaped his lips once he saw my stomach and he bent down on his knees to kiss it. "My sweet Sansa…."
"Our child will be here before you know it," I assured him, while playing with his curly locks.
"I've been thinking…" he paused to look up at me. "How would you like the idea of our child being raised at The Fingers? Its quiet, secluded and no one will ever know that we're married, not until the time is right. And its close enough to the Vale for me not to rouse suspicion whenever I'm gone. So, what do you think-"
His words were cut off once I raised him up from the ground and answered him with breathless kisses. He lifted me in the air and looked into my eyes with a loving gaze. "You make me so happy," he said with a great deal of feeling. "I don't deserve you."
"You do! You deserve me and our child. The world may see you in one way, but I see you- the man behind the mask and I'm desperately in love with him."
He lowered me to the ground, his mossy eyes elated with a wild expression. His hands wrapped around my waist, edging me in till there was no gap between us. "I'll never let you go," he breathed, and he sealed our fate with a kiss.
Perhaps, the gods had heard my prayers after all, for Petyr had come back to me, and he had no intention of ever leaving me again.
If you enjoyed this story you can check out my other Petyr x Sansa fanfics I've been working on at AO3. I have the same username, petyrbaaaeeelish, so feel free to check them out. Thanks again for reading "The Mockingbird's Song". I hope you enjoyed it!
-petyrbaaaeeelish