Sansa

Sansa tied the bundle to her back and slipped on her cloak, making sure to cover her distinctive hair. She'd suggested buying some dye once they were on the road. She had a few trinkets she could pawn for funds until they could reach the coast and hire passage on a ship far from here.

She was serious about running away before Joffrey could return for her and claim her as his bride. She had tried to tell her father she no longer wanted Joffrey, that the very thought of them being together was enough to make her sick. But he wouldn't listen, neither him or mother, telling her that she would learn to accept her duty, that things would change once she was married to the prince.

She wanted to be able to tell the truth about what had happened but would any of them believe her? It was her word against Joffrey and no one would be as foolhardy as to accuse a prince of dishonour. I don't have a choice. I cannot marry Joffrey, I just can't!

It was the dead of night. Sansa tiptoed down the stairs trying not to make a sound and be discovered.
She stopped dead. Arya was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, a candle in hand.

"What are you doing there? You gave me a fright, hiding in the shadows like that." Sansa's voice was shrill with nerves.

I have to get a hold of myself. She's going to get suspicious if she thinks I'm acting strange. I can't fail now. Theon is relying on me. He's putting his neck out on the line so we can be together, how much more can I do to prove my love and loyalty.

Arya had that provoking look on her face that Sansa knew meant trouble. She started to back away, knowing that Theon was waiting for her in the stable.

This damned delay! thought Sansa in irritation at her provoking sister. Why did Arya have to turn up now of all times?

"Bit late to be wondering round fully dressed?" she raised an eyebrow at Sansa's cloak.

Sansa flushed, cursing her fair skin.

"Why are you acting so oddly? I've been watching you for days. Weeks, even-"

"You've got the wrong idea completely, Arya. I haven't a clue what you're-" she started to say, but one fierce and disbelieving glare from her sister shut her up, her voice trailing away ineffectually.

"If I didn't know better I would say that you were about to do a flit, that wouldn't be the case would it?"

She tried to conceal the flash of panic in her eyes but it was too late. Arya had already seen it, and come to the right damning conclusion.

"You're running away?" said Arya in an utterly incredulous voice. It took a lot to shock her bold impulsive sister but it seemed that Sansa had just managed it.

"I can't marry Joffrey, I can't. You have to understand." Sansa wrung her hands. "Father and mother won't listen. They think it a great honour for me to marry the prince to be close to the throne, and I thought that was what I wanted. But then-"

"Did something happen?"

Sansa averted her eyes and didn't answer.

"It is a great honour, that's what you and every one else kept telling me. You never objected before. What's happened to change your mind?" Arya eyed her warily as if she didn't know her any more.

Sansa wished she could confide in her sister, tell her the whole sordid tale but she could not. "I wish I could make you understand, but I can't. Please Arya-"

"You'll be breaking mother and father's hearts, you know that. Is he worth it?" her sister remarked

A thousand times yes- thought Sansa but she said nothing.

"I wonder who it is. I doubt you'd ever lower yourself to have a romance with a servant, and I doubt any of them would take such a risk... so who could your lover be?"

Sansa wanted to get out of there before her perceptive sister worked it out and decided to spill all she knew. The last things he wanted was for her to know all about her feelings for Theon.

"Please Arya, all I'm asking is the night. You can alert them in the morning that I'm gone and I'll not begrudge you that. But just give us the night."

Arya didn't look impressed but by the slackening in tension in her shoulders Sansa knew that she had got through to her and gained her sympathies. "I must be mad, but-"

Sansa hugged her, taking Arya completely by surprise.

"Thank you. You've no idea what this means to me."

Sansa made her way out to the meeting place. She slipped into the stables hoping none of the servants saw her late at night. After her close run shave with Arya she didn't want to risk it again. This was so nerve-wracking! She wondered whether Theon was feeling the same trepidation as she was. I doubt it. He's so much bolder and braver than I. she thought.

"Theon?" she whispered, keen not to be over-heard.

He slipped out of the shadows. Cloaked with a scarf tied over his feature to obscure them. Sansa wished she had thought of that, her red-gold hair and blue eyes were highly distinctive, especially in this neighbourhood where everyone knew her and her family.

"Are you ready?" he asked in an urgent undertone.

She nodded, stepping into his arms for a brief embrace.

He lifted her up onto the horse, hoping they would be able to get away before they were discovered by one of the stable-lads.
She felt a thrill at his hands around her waist.

"Can you ride astride? I won't be able to get your side-saddle." he asked her. "I don't know if we should risk another animal."

She couldn't believe this was really happening. They were going to flee Winterfell the home both of them had known since childhood. They were going into exile for love. "Yes, yes."


Theon

Their bodies were pressed together as they rode pillion, his arms wound round her waist.

They slipped through the gate which was unmanned. Theon thanked his luck. There might have been some awkward questions if anyone recognised and realised the identity of the female he was with. They need to put as much space between them and Winterfell. Lord Stark's territories were large and his bannermen were mostly loyal to him. They would have to do this alone. If our luck is with us we might get all the way to a port and find a boat for the Isles.
He didn't know how his father would take his defection from their enemy. Would he be furious and send them straight back? Or would he wink at it and tell them to stay?

It was cold and damp but they'd travelled for a long time and the dawn was just about to arrive. They done as much as they could to put as much distance between them and Winterfell. Theon only hoped that it would be enough.

"We're going to have to take cover. We can't travel too far by daylight, it's too risky." he told her. Even he was starting to get tired. They needed to rest and they would have to find some supplies and soon. That bundle she'd managed to purloin from the kitchens at Winterfell would not last until they could reach the shore.

She accepted his judgement, too tired to argue. "When we get to the Isles, what do you think will happen? Will they dislike me because of who I am?" Sansa asked. He could sense she was very worried about it.

"I don't know-" he said. She deserved honesty from him at least. "My father is a difficult man, I cannot lie to you. But my mother's people, the Harlaws, they will welcome us back, help us make a new life for ourselves. You have no need to fear."

"Oh, good-" She sounded tired, her head resting against his shoulder.

Sansa had such trust in him and he found that he didn't want to let her down. Not with both of their futures at stake, after they had risked so much.

"Not far my love. Hold on. We'll be safe soon, I promise." he said softly.


It was getting dark. Theon couldn't believe that they had evaded capture for so long. He had expected to be apprehended but perhaps crossing the White Knife had managed to put them off their trail for a bit. The dogs were probably struggling to catch their scent and he'd doubled back into the forest.

His forest lore was not bad, but he was very conscious that Lord Eddard and Robb's would be better. They have to get away from the area as soon as possible, make up for lost ground.
But tonight at least, tonight they must rest and as he looked round and marked his surroundings he knew exactly where he was going to take her. It was no palace; just a humble hunter's cavern with some old furs and space for a fire to keep warm at night, but it was their best chance of shelter.

"Are you cold, Sansa?" He asked her as he tried to locate the cave entrance. He sighed in relief as he found the marking on the tree-bark to indicate where it was.

She nodded, absolutely exhausted by their flight. She hadn't complained much either despite the fact she must have been sore from all those hours in the saddle riding astride no less. Sansa was made of sterner stuff than he'd thought.

"There's a cave somewhere here, we'll find it and take shelter for the night. I feel like I'm about ready to drop. You've done well, lass."

"Have I?" Sansa beamed at him.

"Aye, that you have. As a true lady of the Isles should." she nuzzled her head against his chest.

"Am I your lady now?"

His arms tightened round her as he smiled, relieved to still be free and having evaded their pursuers for one night. "Yes dearheart, now and forever."

They huddled together in the firelight, sharing warmth as the night fell. She was shivering in the cool of the cave but his strong arms around her made her feel safe. She buried her face in his tunic.

He was stroking her hair, murmuring comforting nonsense against her skin. She had never seen him so tender with anyone else. Only her.

"Oh dearheart, what am I going to do with you?" he sighed.

"D'ye think we'll be able to get away? My father's forces are probably searching for us right now. He'll call his bannermen out." She fretted.

"I don't know. I hope not." the last thing they needed was to have the countryside searching for them. It was going to be hard enough to get to a decent port and get passage back home. He wasn't a devout man – gods knew he wasn't- but he sent up a silent prayer anyway for her sake.

Let us at least get to the Isles, that's all I ask. Let us get away safely.


They lay underneath their shared cloaks, sharing their body-heat in the night time.
"Are you not going to kiss me goodnight?" she asked. His hands were cupping her face even before she had finished speaking
She got the feeling of his emotion kept firmly in check.
Before she had sometimes wondered whether she felt more strongly than him, that this wasn't some amorous game to him. That was before he had exposed his own vulnerabilities to her after the announcement of the betrothal to Joffrey. He felt deep about her, she knew it.

She was lying underneath him, matching the rhythm of his rocking hips as they kissed ever deeper. She felt like she was losing her mind, reduced to gasps of pleasure and groans.
"Please, Oh Gods...yes."
"What's the matter, Theon? Why did you push me away?" Sansa asked him in all innocence.

Theon lay on his back, hands clenched into fists so he wouldn't reach out for her and pull her close.

have got to be in control. Bad things will happen if I don't. He'd never been so damned tempted in all his life. So soft sweet and willing underneath him.

A man would sell his soul and count it a bargain to spend one night with her. If her kisses were enough to arouse him to folly; how much more her youthful body and the magic of her touch?

I can't do this, I must not do this, he told himself knowing it was futile to struggle with his own base nature which was fighting to assert itself.

A few sweet kisses and fine words; that's one thing and Lord Ned and Lady Catelyn disapproved of that as if was. But anything more... they would have his hide, both of them, and he would deserve nothing more. For her own good, I have to hold back...

"If I touch you...oh gods if I touch you all will be lost."

"Maybe I want you to touch me." She said softly into his ear, cupping him and giving him an affectionate squeeze which made him gasp.

He nearly groaned aloud. She was going to be the death of him, if he did not take care.

"When I was with Joffrey, I felt nothing but revulsion. He made my skin crawl," she shuddered at the thought of allowing the crown prince to touch her. "- but you, my lord. I want you to touch me. I think I always did."

"Sansa, we can't do this." he protested, even though he didn't even sound convincing to himself. He wanted her so much, the last of his scruples were melting away in the face of his desire for her.

She held his gaze. "I need you, you know that I need you. Why fight it?"

As they kissed in the dim firelight of the cave, embracing closely the last threads of his resistance started to melt away, and he knew he was about to give in.
She was an addiction he could no longer live without.

This was every dream, every fantasy about her come true. He almost couldn't believe it was real and expected he would wake in a moment back in his bed at Winterfell, hard, aching and longing for her.

Please Gods, don't let this be a dream... he asked the gods fervently.


Sansa

She unlaced the front of her dress, pulling off her chemise. She shivered a little from the coolness of the night air and from fear. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, he would be as tender with her as Joffrey was not, but she couldn't help but tremble.

Does he like me, what he sees? Am I being far too forward?, she thought. She knew that he'd had other women, that he'd had far more experience than she'd had.

The gasp of sheer admiration from him reassured her immensely. He looked at her bared curves with some kind of awe, like she was the Maiden incarnate.

"It's alright sweetling. There's no need to be afraid-"

"May-may I see you too?" she said, dipping her head shyly. He pulled off his shirt leaving him as bare as she was.

Her fingers traced over his skin, skimming over the lithe muscles of his bared chest in innocent curiosity. She liked the feel of his sleek lithe muscles under her palm, stroking them over and over again. "Let me see you, let me touch you too."

"Do you like it when I touch you?" she asked. He had to suppress a groan. He liked it only too well. He nodded.

He leaned forwards, hungrily tasting the sweetness of her lips. His fingertips tracing tender paths on her slowly bared skin.

"Open for me, sweetheart." he urged her.

"What- what are you planning to do?" she asked dazed by the touch of his lips on her flesh. She blushed.

Her septa and her mother would have been horrified to see what she was doing with Theon. That sort of thing you should not be even thinking about outside the marital bed, and even then...
She couldn't even imagine doing this with Joffrey. Lying before him naked and exposed to his admiring gaze. Letting him kiss and touch her. Bring her pleasure she never even thought to dream about.

He kissed the soft inside of her thigh soothing the soreness from her long ride. She sighed in longing, begging and pleading for something more, something unknown. She wanted all the pleasure that he could give her.

"Please-" she sighed breathlessly "Theon, I need it. I need you."

How can this be a sin if I want it as much as he does? If he loves me, as I love him?

"Gods, how beautiful you are-" he murmured into the soft flesh of her thigh which he was teasing with soft kisses and trails of his tongue.

Her hips moved back and forth on the furs, encouraging him to give her what she craved. "No more teasing. Please-"

He looked up from tracing his tongue round her navel, making her squirm with anticipation. She felt as if she were about to explode.
"Are you ready, sweetling?" he asked her. She nodded hastily so eager and responsive to him.

His mouth moved downwards, teasing soft kisses on the crease between hip and thigh and the delectable inside of her thighs, everywhere except where she desperately wantonly wanted his mouth.

"Theon, my Theon, don't make me wait. I need you-" she gasped. Her hand slid into his hair keeping him where she most wanted him.

At last she felt his tongue move slickly against her most secret flesh, kissing and licking her intimately. She gasped, arching up off the furs. How he teased her and made her yearn for his touch, his clever mouth moving over her in some kind of profane worship.

She could barely even think in proper sentences any more. Everything had narrowed down to this narrow bed covered in furs, his mouth on her encouraging her to new heights of pleasure.

There was no way they were going to be able to go back to meek chaste kisses, not once she'd tasted bliss in his arms. "Oh-" she breathed, her eyes wide with awe. Her eyes closed briefly , still revelling in the intensity of the feeling he'd given given. It was as if she had been blind until he had awoken her.

"Sansa, did you...are you?" his eyes were dark and brilliant with mixture of pride and tenderness. She felt a burst of love for him, deeper and more powerful than ever before. he bent to kiss her and she responded, craving the taste of what must be herself on his mouth, salty yet tart with a sweet aftertaste she craved. She kissed him deeply, craving more.

I had no idea of how it could be between us, she thought, dazed by their love-making. She nodded.

How could she have ever thought that she could have lived without him?

The next morning Theon woke as the birds started to sing and lay awake stroking Sansa's fire-bright hair. She was still slumbering deeply, tired out by their strenuous journey last night and their first forays into love-play, face buried into his naked shoulder and chest.
This is how it was meant to be. Her by my side. He ran a hand down her back, moving slowly down the sinuous curve of her spine. She felt so right under his hand like his familiar bow he'd had to leave behind.

I would do anything to make her mine. He had been thinking about their night of passion and just how hard it was going to be to keep their hands off each other now that they'd discovered bliss in each other's arms. Already he wanted more to explore everything with her, but he knew they had to go slowly.

I'm going to have to make her an honest woman before we get to the Isles. But what if she doesn't want to marry me? He knew he was being a fool. How much more did she have to do to prove how much she loved him. She'd walked away from marriage to a prince. Run away from the arms of her family, risked disgrace and worse to be with him. Ask her. Ask her tonight if she will be my wife.