A/N: Apologies for the later than usual update. Work got busy.
I leave it too long between Sansa chapters so this one is more summary and catch up than I would like. Hopefully the next time it will be better...

Thanks for the reviews. In regards to the question about POVs, the next chapter will be Lannisters-Cersei for sure and I need to include a Jaime POV. I've been planning it for a while and it is long overdue. After that I will return to Arya and Aegon.

Chapter 68: Alayne/Sansa

Alayne once thought that Littlefinger was a mask worn by Petyr. Petyr rescued her from Kings Landing, he saved her from Cersei. Petyr kept her safe, caring for her as his daughter. He taught her about the game, the game of thrones. Her moment of weakness when Arya was crowned Queen in the North changed everything.

First, Petyr had finally told her of the dragon queen on her way to Westeros.

"There will be war sweetling."

Alayne did not quite understand what he meant at first. The war was already raging, her sister and Prince Aegon were fighting against the Lannister forces. Petyr laughed when she said so and insisted that she needed the swords of the Vale now more than ever. He did not explain why. He only laughed again when she thought wistfully of her family and said that the two Targaryens would surely be pleased to know one another. Then she understood.

Alayne learned more quickly now and she knew Petyr better than he thought she did. He was very clever, the most clever person she expected she had met but she slowly learned when he was manipulating and when he was being earnest. She could not be certain what might happen with the Targaryens but Petyr's satisfied smirk told her that any enmity arising between them might not be completely of their own doing.

Her jealousy over Arya's crown made him far more forthcoming. He smiled at her knowingly, that sly smile she associated with Littlefinger. He was more affectionate than he had ever been, coaxing kisses from her, clasping her hand. He urged her to sit with him in his solar while he told her things, plots he had brewing. When he went away for a few days she was not sure whether she was more relieved or worried.

Her thoughts shifted away from Petyr however when Sweetrobin's shaking became worse. Robert Arryn was needed to greet a gathering of the Lords of the Eyrie, he could not be seen in his current state. She summoned Maester Coleman to administer sweetmilk. The maester protested but Alayne insisted. It was the only thing which would stop the shaking. The maester had resisted her instructions on it before and it had been most embarrassing when Lord Robert had a shaking fit in the middle of a feast. Petyr had been very wroth about it and he stressed to Alayne what must be done. She was to ensure the maester followed her instructions

Sweetrobin managed to endure the meeting with his Lords bannermen but he declined rapidly afterwards. Alayne was by his bedside but he was not waking. The maester moved in and out of the room, checking on the boy and wringing his hands. Petyr returned to find her in Lord Robert's room. He seemed unconcerned at Sweetrobin's condition.

Alayne followed him to his solar and took a seat with him as he bid her.

"Don't frown sweetling" he said, smiling warmly. "I bring good news."

Alayne could not imagine how there might be good news but she tried to smooth out her features nonetheless. "What is it father?" she asked, trying not to dwell on Robert Arryn. She made herself smile.

"I believe I can give you your crown."

Alayne felt her smile almost freeze on her face.

"My crown?" she repeated.

Petyr's eyes sparkled. "Yes sweet girl, the Northern crown." He pulled her into his lap and Alayne tried to keep her expression pleasant. She did not want a crown. She most certainly did not want that crown. That was not what Petyr wanted to hear though. She looked into his face, seeing the smirk. That was not what Littlefinger wanted to hear.

"What about Arya?" she asked, keeping her voice light.

He gave her a kiss. "Let me worry about your sweet sister. I want to see you happy."

Alayne felt as though her face was going to crack. It took her a moment to realise in her panic that she was holding her breath. He is going to do something to Arya, mayhaps Rickon too. She took a couple of breaths then gave him the kiss he clearly expected.

Lies and Arbor Gold she thought.

"Yes father" she said. "I want to be happy too."

Lord Robert Arryn never woke up. Petyr still seemed calm given that he would no longer be Lord Protector. Alayne stood by her cousin's body briefly, trying to determine what she felt. While she was there she heard the maester speaking with Petyr.

"I did try to warn about the sweetmilk."

Petyr's tone became that of Littlefinger and Alayne knew he would do something to bewitch or remove the maester as an obstacle. It was what he did best. It did not remove the impact of the maester's words.

I gave the order for him to have the sweetmilk.

Terror rose up inside her and tears sprang to her eyes. Robert Arryn was a spoiled, sickly child but she had not wanted him dead, not like Joffrey. She was innocent of Joffrey's murder but now... now she truly had killed somebody. Alayne wept by Sweetrobin's bedside.

I did not mean it. I did not know.

She tried to remember what the maester had said about the sweetmilk as she wiped at her eyes. He said it should be used sparingly. Alayne rarely ordered it and yet her cousin was dead. Petyr insisted the shaking needed to stop for the boy to be Lord of the Eyrie otherwise she never would have asked the sweetmilk to be given to him. Petyr told her to make the maester obey her.

Petyr called her to his solar afterwards. While she held in her sobs she saw that he looked completely calm still.

"Do not grieve sweetling. We have a wedding to prepare for."

Alayne managed to regain her composure with difficulty. "A wedding?" He gave her a pointed smile in response that made his meaning clear.

He means my wedding.

She could not speak as Petyr...Littlefinger began to discuss of the need for a short delay so that it did not appear to be unseemly after the passing of Lord Robert. Her thoughts shifted to Harry. She had recently learned that he had fathered another bastard. It had hurt more than she expected. She did not love him but she expected him to at least be faithful with their betrothal.

I do not want to marry.

She interrupted Littlefinger. "Father, how can I marry? I am already married."

He was dismissive. "The Imp is surely dead. I received news that the Targaryen believes so, even if Cersei still has her doubts."

Alayne fell into silence. She did not know what to think. She never wanted to share a bed with Tyrion. She never wanted to marry him but he had been kind to her. Of all the Lannisters he was the only one to be kind.

He was one of them though.

She listened to Littlefinger speak of Harry as the new Lord of the Eyrie, of how the marriage would assure them security. He did not explain how they were to navigate her false identity. Sansa Stark was still wanted for Kingslaying. Myrcella still sat the Iron Throne. She could not be exposed, it was not safe yet he assured her she needed the swords of the Vale and the marriage needed to happen to keep Winterfell safe.

Her sleep that night was tormented. She dreamed of Sweetrobin, of her Aunt Lysa, of Littlefinger. She even dreamed of Cersei and for a brief time of Tyrion. Just before she woke she dreamed of her father and it was that which prompted her to seek the godswood after she broke her fast.

Alayne had not visited the godswood at the Gates of the Moon. She was the natural daughter of Petyr Baelish, supposedly sworn to the faith and only recently turning away from the decision to be a septa. It would look odd but Alayne was drawn to the godswood now by thoughts of her father. She knelt before the heart tree and wept once more.

She uttered her prayers in a whisper, desperately hoping nobody would hear her. Her knees ached by the time she was done. As she struggled to rise, straightening her skirts there was a rustle on the breeze and she thought she heard her name. Her true name, Sansa, not the one she wore to hide away. It frightened her.

The old gods know what I have done.

As she was fleeing she thought she heard Arya's name too. That frightened her even more. She still did not know what Littlefinger planned to do. She hurried into the castle and tried to focus on her duties. Those who saw the signs of her tears gave her soft smiles and she realised they thought she was mourning Sweetrobin. It made her feel worse.

Randa tried to cheer her. At first she resisted then she realised that there was gain in it. Petyr always said knowledge was power but he controlled the knowledge Alayne could gather. He shared just enough with her to see his cleverness but for all he told her there was so much more he held back. The dragon queen was coming he said. There would be war he said. Winterfell is not safe.

Randa told her news she had missed. The Riverlands lords were joining Arya and Dorne sided now with Aegon. Alayne wanted to be hopeful, it looked as though Cersei would not last much longer but she remembered what Petyr had said of Daenerys and she thought of how trapped she was and all she could feel was despair.

Her guilt gnawed away at her. I never wanted little Robert to die. She thought of Arya and Rickon, especially after what had happened at the heart tree. She was not the only Stark but the other Starks were not hiding and she did not know what they might think of her. Rickon would not know her. The last time she saw Arya she was quite certain her sister hated her. Arya hated Joffrey too but Sansa was accused of kingslaying, even if she wanted to try to contact her brother or sister she would be exposed.

She summoned up the courage to ask Petyr one night about the crown he promised, donning a bright smile she did not feel. His response increased her terror.

"All it takes is for the right person to die and everything will be set in motion sweet girl."

She did not ask what he meant. It brought to mind what her Aunt Lysa had said just before she died. She shut her eyes remembering. Petyr told Aunt Lysa to put something in Jon Arryn's wine. He said she was raving but Alayne had her doubts and his words now confirmed them. She wrote to my mother to blame the Lannisters. Her thoughts then went to Joffrey and Robert Arryn. He used the Tyrells to kill Joffrey. He pushed me to order the sweetmilk that killed Sweetrobin.

It is as dangerous with him as it was in King's Landing.

As if to prove her point, Petyr's hand went to her thigh and Alayne, Sansa stiffened. She remembered Marillion's advances and the way Petyr kissed her that day in the snow. He had kissed her many times since but this was different. He gave her leg a squeeze and let go but she would not forget it this time.

She excused herself, making her smile remain and went to her chambers.

She knew now she needed to get away but there was nowhere she could go. There was no way to get out. She could not reveal herself. Sansa Stark was wanted for the murder of Joffrey. The Vale was still undeclared, she could not know what they would do. Besides, she was still married to a Lannister. Petyr's claims of his death did not convince her otherwise.

For the first time in a long while, Alayne thought of the Hound. Mayhaps I would have been better off if I had left with him when he asked. He frightened her but he never hurt her. He wanted to though. She shook herself at the thought. She was not a little girl any more. She knew no knight would come to rescue her.

Her fear for herself was matched by her fear for her family. She wanted to write them, to warn them but Petyr would know. He had spies everywhere, not just in the Vale but all over Westeros. He has somebody in Winterfell too. Alayne was certain of it. Even if she could write she was not certain how it might be received. Arya might not want to hear from her.

The preparations for her unwanted wedding proceeded unhindered. Petyr left the Eyrie promising to return before the day. Alayne feared what it meant for her sister and brother. She had been powerless to do anything, powerless to stop him. She thought it could not get worse until it did.

Alayne was in her chambers when the visitors arrived. There was no time to prepare herself when she entered the audience chamber where Randa played hostess to guests and came face to face with them. She stopped still knowing it was too late to flee. They were whispering amongst themselves and the younger one went pale. Randa had spotted her and began to introduce her.

"This is Alayne Stone, the natural daughter of Lord Petyr Baelish."

She kept her eyes lowered as she curtsied. The men were not introduced immediately, Randa was too busy looking between them, a smirk on her face as she tried to work out what the expressions meant.

"Alayne" a smooth voice said and when she looked up she could see amusement in his eyes. "I see you took all your looks from your mother."

She swallowed hard and pasted a smile on her face.

He knows who I am.

AN2: I know Sansa's arc is taking a little to develop. It will get there. I have specific thoughts on what I expect from her character and what I want for her so my ideas are coming together but it isn't going to all happen at once or necessarily in the way people expect.