Sansa

The queen smiled a little tipsily as she noted that Gendry seemed intent upon clutching her little sisters hand, the meat had been served and Arya had been forced to dine with only one arm. She'd muttered something about the "King slayer" as she chewed. For the most part it didn't seem romantic, it was a scared boy clutching onto an anchor as he floated unfamiliar waters but it was something at least.

She took another swig of wine and stifled a yawn she dreaded what came next, she would be expected to leave the hall and the celebrations long before they were over. Wine and ale had been guzzled and she fretted over the 'traditions' of her people. She did not wish to be stripped nor mocked by her banner-men.

She heard Arya whisper "I need my hand back boy…. It's all sweaty." And she stifled a smile "Sansa, are you tired?" Arya was now turned in her seat fully facing her, Podrick overheard and blushed… he knew what Sansa being 'Tired' meant… they all did.

"I don't…" Sansa started but Arya cut her off.

"I've not given you your gift yet." Her little sister grinned like the Arya underfoot of years gone, like the girl who had told Septa to 'shove her tapestry up her bung hole'

"Whatever you plan…" Sansa was panicked; would her sister be the instigator of her shame? Would she rile the men to carry her off to the great keep, Arya in full dress turned and looked to Gendry "help me climb onto the table would you?" she said and the bastard Lord obliged without question.

"Arya Stark get down." Sansa hissed between clenched teeth, she sounded so much like her mother when she chastised Arya.

"Lords, Ladies, gentleman and drunkards." Arya roared from her stance on the high table, and the hall fell silent, she had that blasted sword in her raised hands. Arya had mentioned briefly that she'd been a mummer but Sansa hadn't fully believed it until this moment, the Lords were laughing at their princess's playful jibe "We here in the North have a tradition…" the lords and ladies and drunkards cheered, Sansa groaned and buried her face into her palms, Podrick for his part looked equally stricken.

"That tradition is shit… so here's what will happen… Boys!" she snapped her fingers and five Queen's guards stepped forward. Sansa looked utterly bewildered, the crowd seemed to be enjoying Arya's little choreographed show "the queen's guard will carry her out of the hall, she will remain clothed. Sorry Lord Stane the only tits you'll be seeing tonight are your own" The crowd roared with laughter, Lord Slate who'd been at Stane's side fell off of his chair he laughed so hard. "You may wish her a good bedding and many sons, you may compliment her beautiful dress or bid her a good night… you may not comment on her body, her orifices or her husband's sword and helmet. This is your Queen" the men and the few women in the hall cheered as Sansa chuckled and her men surrounded her, lifting her gently to sit atop their shoulders. Only two of the guards were required to carry her, the rest formed a circle and jokingly prodded at onlookers with outstretched hands, Sansa looked to her sister as she was carried with dignity through the winters hall and she mouthed 'Thank you'.

"As for King Podrick, I couldn't find any girls big enough to carry him, I did send a raven to the giants." Arya continued, Podrick looked petrified and the crowd clapped as their princess danced along the table to stand in front of her king, careful not to topple a single goblet. "they declined" Podrick sighed with relief "so it's your former brethren who'll be hauling you off to bed!" Sansa watched from her high stance near the door as the remaining guards scurried forward and hoisted their new king and old commander high above their heads with none of the reverence they'd shown her. She tutted sympathetically but couldn't help the titter as she watched Pod be carried towards her, Arya crouched, snatched up a goblet of wine raised it in the air and called "The King and Queen in the North!" the men and women filling Winter Hall stood and raised their glasses joining the toast. As Pod drew closer to Sansa Arya called after him "Just remember King Pod, 'You stick her with the pointy end'" Sansa's eyebrows had shot up, the crowd had burst into cheers and applause at Arya's finale. She bowed, a true mummer, Jon had spat half a goblet of wine on her closing statement.

Sansa and her King were carried through the now slightly quieter courtyard over to the great keep, the few revellers still waiting wished them a good bedding and many sons, Sansa found her stomach tightening as they entered the keep and the pair were carried to her rooms. The guards, with blushing grins placed the pair at the door wordlessly when they turned to leave Sansa was sure she could hear them giggling.

"well." She said nervously as she reached her hand for the door, pushing it open and stepping into the warm scented room. Agatha and Coralline had turned down the bed, lit a scented oil burner and left some wine and plums for the newlyweds, Sansa swallowed without looking back, Podrick was in the room with her… she heard the door close.

"Your Grace." He said it so softly, so gently it made her heart leap.

"Pod… I'm your wife. You can call me Sansa."

"Sansa." The word fell from his lips like a prayer, like an oath he'd never break. She turned to him, full of trepidation and excitement. The fear she felt on her first wedding night wasn't there, she wasn't scared for Pod to touch her, she was scared she'd do 'it' wrong. Scared that what was under her dress wasn't as fair as everyone thought. There were tiny white scars that had bloomed on her hips, breasts and belly through puberty, a fine lace of white lines, and she had no idea if that was normal… there had been nobody to tell her. Her maids had never passed comment but why would they? She was their queen, their lady. Podrick and she had done nothing more than kiss since officially betrothed. And even then Pod was always restrained, always honourable, always chaste. She turned away from him again to pour some wine, to give her hands something to do. What if he was too honourable and she too shy and nothing happened, they just sat in the room in silence… what if it didn't fit, or if it hurt too much. She heard a thud and turned to see that Podrick was already shirtless and was hopping around on one foot trying to remove his boots, he looked almost like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Sit." She commanded with a smile, he obliged "let me" this was something she could do, this was something she'd seen her mother and father do a thousand times. As Pod perched on the end of her bed she knelt and unlaced his boots one at a time before sliding them off his feet, they did not stink as her fathers had. She remembered fondly how her mother would make a big show of how rotten his feet were and then she'd chase Arya and her with the boots.

With his feet bared she stood again, he was big and wide and mainly muscle but there was a little softness too, a little roll of flesh where his belly met breeches, his shoulders were defined and she noticed with some delight that he had little tiny white lines round his shoulders just like the ones on her hips, she reached out a finger and traced their pattern lazily. Pod stayed still, watching her intently, she withdrew her hand suddenly nervous again. Septa should have told her these things, her mother should have sat her down and explained how it started… not just the 'stick 'em with the pointy end' bit. She walked back to her wine, poured another glass and with shaking hands raised it to her lips. She didn't hear him walk towards her, the pounding of her own heart drowning out any noise.

"Sansa" he said her name again, this time deep, he said it into her hair as he stood flush behind her. She wondered if he'd become like Hodor, the only words falling from his mouth 'Sansa' in various tones and with various intents. She finished the drink and slammed it onto the table, panting slightly. His hands had found her hips and he was slowly balling her dress in his fists, hiking it up a handful at a time. When he finally came to the hem he gathered the fabric in his large hands and pulled it gently up, she raised her hands as she would have done for Agatha, though Agatha never stood this close to her or breathed this heavily on her neck and Agatha didn't make her ache in places she tried not to think about.

"Sansa" he placed a kiss on her shoulder, she was still in her underskirts, stockings, corset and smalls but she felt naked. He found the laces of her corset, undoing them one at a time punctuating each victory with another kiss on her shoulder. She trembled and for a second found it hard to breathe, he felt her sway slightly and so wrapped one arm safely around her belly, the other continuing its journey down the laces of her corset. She stilled as he undid the final wrung the only thing holding the material to her front was his hand, he let it drop. Sansa turned in his arms, more out of modesty than anything else, pressing her front to his at least made it invisible.

He pushed her gently back and she worried that already she'd done the wrong thing, but when she made to cover her bare chest with her arms he reached for them and gently held her at arm's length looking her over studiously, like he'd waited so long and now that he was finally here he had to take stock of everything. And as suddenly as he'd stopped to survey her it was over and she found herself squealing as he grabbed her hips and lifted her up and towards him, when her body was flush against his, his head buried in her neck her toes inches off the ground, he used one strongly muscled arm to hold her and the other to grab her leg and wrap it round him. Where one of her legs went the other soon followed. She was now wrapped round him, her underskirts hitched and the hooks of her stockings visible. He stumbled forward and eventually found the bed, they still hadn't kissed. They just clung, until she was pushed into the feather mattress and he was on top of her breathing heavily.

"My wife." He said as he leant forward and took her lips in his, his hands found her under skirts and he began the labour intensive task of trying to remove them without breaking their kiss. She giggled a little and he smiled down at her.

"Why on earth are you wearing so many clothes?" he asked with a chuckle as he shuffled down her body and knelt up, now straddling her knees.

"My septa always told me that a gift is all the more appreciated when well wrapped." She smiled and made to cover her breasts again, feeling exposed.

"Don't." he stopped her "I'm not covering mine, and mine aren't half as pretty as yours my Grace." She laughed at this, it was so silly but put her so at ease, as she laughed her chest jiggled and she noticed with some wonder that he now stared at her chest longingly. She shrugged a little coyly before wiggling ever so slightly, a shy grin had replaced her laughter. He found the waist of her skirts and tugged at them furiously, the small ivory button holding them up snapped and pinged across the bed landing forgotten in a far corner. All the self-imposed restraint, all the chaste kisses seemed to have worn on Pod and left a man driven wild, with her skirts finally removed only her small things, stockings and boots remained.

"I fear I'm at a disadvantage my lord" she wriggled beneath which made him groan and bite his lip "are you injured?" she asked noting his discomfort.

He shook his head "no my lady" he rolled off her, and began to unlace his britches, his hands shaking with haste. Her small hand moved to help but he stilled it " My lady, Sansa… I am…" Podrick would later tell Sansa, when they were much older and wiser, that at that moment he had never been more aroused or terrified at the same time. The very idea that she was his made him nearly burst, he held her hand in his… he feared if she touch him he may explode and make a fool of himself. "A bride must not trouble herself with the laces of breaches." He said as if there was some old rule, it wasn't he'd just made it up and but Sansa knew no better, her lips forming an 'oh' and her hands falling to her side again, she watched his face intently.

"My Lord" for he was her lord "I am not accustomed to the act of love, but you are… if I do something wrong or bad… would you please tell me?" she had been trying to formulate this sentence since she poured the wine but only now found the brain clarity to voice her fears. He was her husband now, he wouldn't mock her… he loved her and he wanted her, she could see and feel that.

"My Lady the mere sight of you has near ended me, there is nothing you could do wrong." He said, as he tentatively yanked his breeches down, leaving him only in his long cloth, he kicked his feet out of the leather legs and knocked them to the floor with a final nudge of his foot.

"But my lord, perhaps…" she knelt, it took everything she had not to cover her body, she had been taught since a young age that her naked body was shameful. But the wildling women, they thought different they loved being naked, she saw more breasts in castle black than she probably would in her life time. "In my songs and books, it always ends before this part… I know you 'stick me with the pointy end' but I always thought… people have risked so much for love making, all the wars we fought were because people bedded those they shouldn't… and I just thought perhaps there was more to it than just… that."

"Oh… well yes it's much more than that." He was now sitting up in the bed beside her, his head resting on the head board his arousal evident. His tone, his grin, his boyish features… all of it emboldened her. 'I am a fucking queen' Sandor's voice in her head, unsettling and empowering at the same time.

"Pod… do you remember in Kings Landing, there was a painting in the Red Keep?" she shuffled closer to him.

"What one my lady?" he asked reaching for her running a finger down her arm, sending lightning bolt goose flesh across her skin.

"The one in Tyrion's study" she watched as the blush crept into his cheek, his smile widened.

"Yes my lady."

"I always wondered, if that would be something I would perhaps enjoy." She said as she tentatively placed her palms flat on his chest and lifted one leg over his body so that she straddled him, she didn't sit. There was still a distance between her most private of areas and the bulge that strained against his own small clothes. "If I sit will I hurt you?" she asked, her voice quieter. He shook his head, still smiling but with a fierceness in his eyes. She lowered herself tentatively and barely rested on him keeping much of her weight on her thighs. He grabbed her hips with a little force and pushed her down harder, not so that he entered her but so that she could feel the full force of him against her. He used his considerable strength to drag her slowly up the length of him which now lay flay against his stomach. Sansa felt like what lay between her legs had developed its own heart, she thrummed violently and she found it hard to breathe.

"there's that… for a start" he said from between gritted teeth, answering her previous question.

"what else is there Pod?" she asked breathily and he growled his answer as he flipped her so that she was now under him.

His hands grappled for her small clothes ripping the cotton aside and tossing them as far away as he could, an irrational part of his brain perhaps worrying they would return. Gently he let his fingers roam the areas of Sansa that of yet mostly lay untouched, she gasped and shuddered and trembled beautifully and he grinned with satisfaction, her left leg shuddering of its own accord.

"The first time may hurt my Grace." He said cautiously as he finally removed his own smalls and settled between her spread thighs.

"And after the first time?" she asked softly

"It will hurt less and please more."

"and how often do we plan on doing this?" she asked genuinely curious, what she had experienced thus far had her of the mind that she wanted to do nothing else for the rest of her life.

"Tonight? Or in general?" Pod countered as he kissed her chest and ground his pubic bone into her.

"In general." She gasped.

"every day." He responded nudging her again and kissing her gasps into his own mouth.

"won't you grow bored of me my lord?" she asked, wriggling against him, she noted that wriggling seemed to be the key.

"never… Sansa…" he kissed her longingly and placed his weight on his elbows so he could look her in the eye's "Our meetings since our betrothal, my demand for chaperone and restraint… it takes every single ounce of my honour to stop me from touching you, even before we were betrothed when I was just Ser Pod and you didn't see me… I would stand by you and would have to remind myself over and over that I could not touch you. All the times in Kings Landing when I stood so close and just wanted to reach out my hand just to offer you comfort. And now I can my Lady, because for some reason, be it necessity or love I care not but you picked me. And I knew if I started, if I kissed you too passionately or touched you too intimately… you make my heart thud and the rest of me… rigid." He laughed a little at this, but she was looking up at him sadly. She raised her hands and cupped his face.

"I saw you Pod… It was I who embraced you at Castle Black and I who kissed you in the Red Keep… I saw you and I felt things that I wasn't supposed to for you too." She kissed him and he lowered his body again, settling onto her gently

"what things?" he asked positioning himself to enter her, distracting her from the initial shock.

"A feeling here." She pointed to the very pit of her stomach, stroking his own lower abdomen at the same time, sending shivers coursing through him. She smiled coyly. "and here she ran her hand from her stomach to between her breasts her knuckles dragging up his own body. He grabbed her wandering hand and laced his fingers through hers pushing her fist into the mattress, he slowly did the same with the other and with a sudden jolt and flick of his hips he was inside her. She was glad he didn't warn her, being caught off guard she had been relaxed and perhaps this was why she wasn't feeling the intense pain she had expected. Uncomfortable? Yes… but not painful. She had felt pain and this was nothing. He remained still, tight inside then he rolled his hips experimentally at first. Her own hips tilted slightly looking to find the best positioning, for what exactly she wasn't entirely sure but she'd know it when she found it.

"are you in pain Sansa" he asked stilling, noting her intense expression and her lip clasped tightly in her teeth, she shook her head hastily and shifted her hip. She sighed, and her head lolled back. Whatever it was she had been seeking, it appeared she'd found it.