Trish leaned over the railing, taking in the fresh air of the open sea. She had never been on a ship before, the whole experience was exhilarating for her. She spent her days walking on deck, observing the crew as they worked. They didn't mind it, in fact having women on board lifted the men's spirits. The Captain had no quarrels either, he did however ask that she keep out of the way, and refrained from being too much of a distraction.

In place of their long beautiful dresses, Trish and Sansa were given common clothes worn by seamen. It would help hide their identity from curious eyes, as well as cover their womanly bodies from the enticed crew. To their dismay, their tight trousers and white buttoned up jerkins somehow complemented their mature figures. This caused the crew to become even more enraptured in the pair.

Trish didn't seem to mind the attention. They didn't come off as predatory or dangerous. If she was honest to herself, she hadn't felt this safe and relaxed in a long time. It made her feel a bit guilty, however. Sansa on the other hand had been cursed with horrible fits of sea sickness. Oddly enough, it didn't start right away. A week had passed on board before she showed any sign of nausea. Trish didn't like it. After what Sansa had experienced back at Kings Landing, Trish's suspicions increased by the day. This would be around the time a woman would show signs of pregnancy. Trish bit her lip in anger. Will I be in the same situation soon? She thought, anxiety beginning to rise. She clutched her stomach, trying to calm herself.

'Are you alright?' A sympathetic voice said behind her.

'Sansa, you startled me.'

'You look horrified.'

'Ay, I guess those horrid days at Kings Landing are beginning to catch up with me.'

Sansa hugged Trish's arm. 'Don't worry yourself, we are far from their grasp now. And it's all thanks to you.' She kissed Trish sweetly on the shoulder.

'Shouldn't you be in bed?'

'I don't feel too bad at the moment. I thought some fresh air would do me some good. Petyr Baelish agreed.'

'Littlefinger was in our cabin?'

'He comes by once in a while to see how I am feeling. Why the concern?'

'Be careful around him. I know he helped us escape, but I still don't trust his intentions.'

'He can't be so bad. He was childhood friends with my Mother. Isn't that reason enough to help us?'

Trish was still skeptical. She had heard many differing opinions of Littlefinger during her time as a Handmaiden. Some considered him generous and well mannered. While others exclaimed that these honest qualities were merely to mask his sly, devious nature. She was never comfortable with the idea of turning to him for help. But with desperation taking hold, she saw little choice. She and Sansa had escaped the Lions den. But a part of her felt that they merely traded one captor for another.

'Trish? Are you sure you are alright?'

Trish didn't realize how lost in thought she had become. Am I alright? She began to question. What is this anxious feeling all the sudden? She always thought of herself as level headed and rational. It isn't like me to lose my nerve. Her mind raced back to times spent tending to pregnant women. She remembered how unpredictable their mood could be. Trish grimaced, becoming more sure of her fate.

'Don't mind me Sansa. I've just become anxious, trapped on this ship for so long. I'll be fine.'

'I sure hope so.' A man intruded. 'We have no Maester's on this ship.'

'Thank you for your compassion, but I'm fine.' Trish said irritably. 'Did you need something, Captain?'

'Petre Baelish has asked for Sansa.' Trish's face darkened.

'Oh? Alright.' Sansa turned to Trish. 'We'll talk later, ok?' Before her friend could protest, she strutted down the deck and vanished through the cabin doors.

Trish thought of saying a prayer for her, but then realized that there are no Godswoods on the open sea. 'I am far beyond the sight of my Gods.' She said in melancholy.

When Sansa entered Littlefinger's cabin, her sinuses were assaulted by a strong perfume. She found him at his desk, entirely distracted by his work. 'Lord Baelish?' His expression changed, looking up in good humor.

'Sansa, how are you feeling today?' He said walking over to her.

'Much better, thank yo….oh.' She was surprised by his good natured hug.

'How has the crew been lately? No incidents, I hope.'

'No Lord, they have all been very courteous.'

'I know they look rough, but they are truly professionals. Nothing like the two oarsmen that had brought you to us.'

Sansa wished he had not brought them up. Thinking of the way they had taken advantage of her and Trish brought a sickening feeling to her stomach. She had hated them from the bottom of her heart. But those feelings turned to pity the instant Littlefinger's men sent crossbow bolts through their chests. Why did he do it? Sansa thought. We didn't tell him what they had done to us.

Petyr, reading the expression on her face, explained. 'They were callous thugs, Sansa. They would have sold your whereabouts for a couple more pounds of silver. I hope you don't think ill of me. I did it for your own safety.'

'How could I?' Sansa said reassuringly. 'You have been more than generous to us. I don't know how we will ever repay you.'

Littlefinger looked abashed. 'Nonsense Sansa, we are practically family. I need no reward. I would do it again in a heartbeat. In fact, I actually have a present for you.'

Sansa was startled. 'After everything, I couldn't accept it.'

'No I insist Sansa.' He said, scouring through drawers in his desk. 'You would be doing me a favor by taking it off my hands.' Littlefinger then brought out a box, opening it theatrically in front of Sansa. The gold necklace looked priceless, with gold chain tassels and three blue gems that ordained it. 'It brings back too many memories.'

'It's beautiful.'

'It was your mothers.'

Sansa looked up at him shocked. 'How do you have this?'

'Catelyn had left it at Riverrun a long time ago. But it now belongs to you.' Littlefinger had her turn around, placing the necklace around her soft neck. Sansa looked in the mirror, utterly enraptured in its beauty. So enraptured, she had forgotten Littllefinger was standing behind her.

'If only I wasn't in these gaudy clothes.' She said to herself. Petre's hands wrapped around her hips, causing goosebumps to form on Sansa's skin.

'Let's get you undressed then.'

'Lord Baelish?'

'Apologies Sansa….' He whispered in her ear. 'Your simply too beautiful to be in commoners clothes. Let's take them off, then we can see the necklace in its full beauty.' Scared as she was, she began unbuttoning her jerkin. 'Let me help you.' She felt his hands slide down her thighs before coming back up to her belt. She watched him through the mirror as he unbuckled her trousers. They were both staring at her naked body, nothing on except for the gold necklace. Sansa felt Littlefinger's soft hands following the curvature of her body. 'You have grown into quite the woman, Sansa.' The cold air was apparent on her body. Littlefinger enjoyed the feeling of Sansa's goosebumps. Becoming more adventurous, he moved his hands up to her breast. He teased the tips of her hard nipples.

Sansa, becoming more and more flustered, broke away from him. She turned towards Petyr, covering her breasts. 'Sansa, I..I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I just couldn't resist. Please do not blame me.' Sansa had her back against the wall, her heart racing. What was she to do? It was all so confusing. She was no doubt disturbed by Littlefinger's actions. But her body pleaded for it to go on. She then felt something dripping down her thigh. Petre took notice as well, causing him to come closer.

'Just stay back.' Sansa pleaded.

'You needn't recoil from me, Sansa.' He whispered, stepping even closer.

'No, I won't have it. I refuse…..' She tried pushing him away to no effect. He pressed his body against her, trapping her against the wall. She tried wailing at him. 'No, please, I don't want you…..' Littlefinger pressed his lips against hers. Her face showed signs of shame and embarrassment. He then broke off. 'No more.' She said in a calm soft voice. He kissed her again, this time forcing his tongue into her mouth. The feeling of her soft tongue against his made him more aggressive, his hands groping at her body.

Sansa couldn't take it anymore, feeling an immense amount of shame. Despite her refusal to make love with this man, her body had a mind of its own. She didn't understand why she always gave in to these monsters. Did the Lannisters torment turn her into a masochist whore, or is this just who she was? Unable to come up with an answer, her hands clung to him affectionately.

'Thats it Sansa, give in to me.' He said, moving hand between her thighs. 'There's no shame in it. You're a woman now. It's only natural to give in to these urges.'

'I'm not like that….' She squealed as his fingers entered her.

'You can't deny it with a cunt as wet as this. Your mother also had urges, you know.'

'What?'

'That's right. She and Lysa had such an appetite, I could hardly keep up with both of them.' He leaned hard against her, pressing her breasts against his chest. 'So don't deny me this. You should be thanking me for taking care of your womanly urges.' His fingers began motioning faster, causing Sansa's body to convulse with pleasure. 'Go on, girl. Thank me.'

'Mmmmmf…..' She covered her mouth, refusing to show any sense of pleasure.

'Come on, slut. Thank your Lord.' Her body began to twitch as she climaxed, squealing in absolute ecstasy.

She leaned against the wall, panting. Her hands clutching Petre's jerkin. Her eyes were full of water as she stared up at Littlefinger's face. The evil smirk on his face was more honest than any other expression she's seen from him. Trish was right. She thought finally. The pride that was left in her made it difficult to form the words. She forced it out anyway. 'Th…thank you, my Lord.' Littlefinger, once again shoved his tongue in her mouth, this time without resistance. Sansa indulgently entwined her tongue with his, her mouth filling with the man's saliva.

Her hands slid down to his waist and loosened his belt. His trousers fell to the floor, revealing his erect cock. She stroked it eagerly, playing the submissive role Littlefinger forced onto her. 'That's a good girl, I knew you'd see things my way. Now get on your knees.' Sansa did so, dutiful. 'Lick my cock. Lick it like your mother would.' Sansa's face turned red shamefully, but did as he commanded. Her tongue slid up the man's cock, her blue eyes staring up at him as she did it. The sight made Littlefinger go mad with lust. Taking hold of the back of her head, he shoved his manhood deep down her throat. She gurgled and gagged as he held it there, her airways closed off. He then pulled it out, Sansa gasping in relief before the cock was inserted back down her throat. Again and again he did this, increasing in speed. The abuse went on, Sansa's throat relentlessly punished.

Trish meanwhile strolled through the quarters in search of Sansa. She had been gone for a long time, which made Trish nervous. Once reaching Littlefinger's Quarters, she could hear the exasperated moans of a woman. It was lustful and shameless. 'Oh shit.' Trish said, immediately throwing the door open.

Sansa was on her knees, her face being pulled against the man's groin. Littlefinger hovered over her, hands clutching the back of her head as his semen filled her throat. Tears ran down Sansa's cheeks as she gurgled and coughed.

'Get the hell away from her.' Trish yelled with absolute fury. Littlefinger and Sansa turned in shock, just realizing that they had been seen. Petyr recoiled in freight, backing away to his desk, his penis completely limp. Trish pulled a knife from her trousers. 'You filthy cockroach. I hope it was worth it, because now you're gonna pay the ultimate price.'

'Wait Trish, don't kill him. If you do, we'll never get off this boat alive.' Sansa pleaded.

'Thats right Trish, listen to your sensible friend.' Littlefinger said, still unnerved.

'I won't hear it Sansa. He's just like the others, maybe even worse. Taking advantage of you like that. It's absolutely repulsive.'

All the sudden they heard turmoil coming from on deck, and then a large crash that shook the entire ship. All three of them were knocked to the floor.

'What was that?' Sansa said shakenly. Blood curdling screams came from above.

'Are we under attack?' Trish asked.

'I'll go check, you girls, stay down here. It may be best to find a hiding place.' Littlefinger walked past the two girls with little protest.

'But Petyr….' Sansa protested.

'The cockroach is right. We need to hide.' Trish interrupted, grabbing Sansa's hand.

The two raced down the steps to the cabins. 'Stay here.' Trish commanded, pushing Sansa down behind some barrels.

Trish then slowly, silently climbed back up the stairs. Peaking through the oak doors, she watched in horror as a flood of men stormed the top deck. They had easily overcome the crew, butchering and scorching any man who protested. The monsters cackled as the crew screamed and cried for their lives. Many jumped off board, willing to take their chances in the ocean's cold depths. Trish then finally caught sight of Petyr Baelish, standing in calm dismay, despite the calamity around him. Two pirates then shoved him down to his knees.

All crew members who were lucky enough to be alive had their hands bound and lined up in a row. A feminine man with embroidered clothing, blonde slicked back hair, and powdered cheeks strolled in front of the subdued crew. He took his time examining each prisoner, their skin, eyes, height. He took account of them all.

A dark Summer Isle man with a mound for a belly approached the powdered one. 'What's our take?' He said in a low, rough voice.

'Mediocre, Captain. Three would make a decent profit. The others, I'm afraid, are only good enough for the sea beasts.'

'Very well, see to it then.'

'WAIT.' Wepped a squirrely man on his knees. 'There are two others on board. Spare my life and I'll tell you where they….'

'Not another word, fool.' Littlefinger interrupted.

'To hell with you and your whores. I refuse to die like this.'

'With or without your help, we will find them. Your fate is sealed.' The big man bellowed before turning to his savage crew. 'Search the cabins and their storages. We'll take everything that's not nailed down.'

Trish rushed down the steps, pulling her friend up. Before Sansa could ask what the plan was, she was pushed into an empty barrel. Trish hopped in one of her own and there they sat as quietly as possible. Boots stomped around them, as the pirates tore the place apart, taking anything that was useful or valuable, and destroying everything else.

Sansa almost yelped as she felt her cask lift up. Through the cracks in the wood, Sansa watched as they were carried up on deck. There she saw the corpses that littered the deck. One belonging to Littlefinger, his eyes bulged in shock as blood pooled out of the slit in his neck. Goodbye Petyr Baelish. Sansa thought solemnly, as they were transported off the ship.

One of the men carrying a cask tripped suddenly, losing grip of the barrel. It crashed on the floor, top flying off along with a beautiful blonde. She squealed in pain as she slid on the floor. Men around her gawked and cackled at the vulnerable lady.

'Found one.' The oafish man remarked. Many others started opening up crates, hoping to find a pretty girl of their own.

Sansa yelped as she was pulled up by her arm. 'And here's another to match it.' A greasy pirate said.

'That wasn't too hard.' The Captain remarked. 'How much for these two?'

'Enough to make this detour worth the trouble.' The powdered men said with a devious smile. The entire crew was grinning. They had never seen anything as pretty as those two in a long time. They itched to play with them.

'Hands off, they are worth more unsoiled.'

'You heard him, Captain. "Whores" he called em. Let us have some fun.'

'Yeah…' Said another rowdy crew member. '...you don't let us touch the others. This has been a long and stress filled voyage with little relief. Let us have this.'

The Captain, with a low thundering voice, roared at them to get back to work. He personally took hold of the girls, dragging them down into the cellars. The two were shocked by the sight of the women and children caged up like animals.

'Where did all these people come from?' Trish asked, astonished.

'What's that to you, Slave?' The large man shoved the two inside, locking the door behind them.

Sansa looked around at the faces of her fellow prisoners. She realized they all looked like northerners. 'Who are you people?' She asked.

'Their Wildlings.' Trish blurted out in astonishment. She didn't believe it herself, but after getting a closer look at them, it was undeniable. '

'Nerie? Is that you?' A young voice called. Trish's heart skipped a beat when she heard that name. 'Nerie? I'm not dreaming am I?'

'My Gods, Velny? What are you doing here?' Trish's eyes were wide with shock. A broad woman with tangled red hair pushed her way through the other slaves. 'My dearest girl, I've missed you so.' Velny took Trish into her beefy arms, squeezing her as tightly as possible. Trish wilfully hid the pain while every ounce of breath was pushed out of her. 'When I heard you left with Haregg's group to climb the wall, I thought you were as good as dead.'

Trish smiled, gleefully. 'Well as you can see, I'm very much alive.'

'And have grown beautifully. How did you end up here?'

'That's what I was gonna ask you.'

'Hell Nerie, so much has happened since you left. Mance Rayder's plan to siege the wall was a terrible failure. So many dead, including Mance himself. Many of us retreated to Hardhome, but it only got worse from there. Oh Nerie, count yourself lucky you weren't there. The sick, the injured, no food, and the damn frost killing us in the night. There was no hope, Nerie. Please believe me when I say that.'

Trish tried to sooth her. 'I believe you, Velny.'

'And then, out of nowhere, two ships drop anchor. You must understand how desperate we were. We would never have begged as we did if our situation wasn't dire.' Trish at this point had a pretty good idea what happened. But decided to let Velny finish her story. 'They refused to take the men, you see. There would not have been enough room. Only that much was the truth however.' Velny took a moment to subdue her anger. 'After saying goodbye to our men, we voluntarily boarded the ships. We hadn't sailed far before we were put in chains and thrown in this cell.'

All of this was overwhelming for Sansa. After seemingly gaining freedom from the Lannisters, she is attacked by pirates, Petyr Baelish is killed, and now she finds out her closest friend is a wildling. She didn't know how to feel anymore. 'Where are they taking us?' Sansa asked, unnerved.

'I heard them say we are to be sold in Lys. If that is true, we still have a long voyage ahead of us. God's, I don't even know how long we've been stuck down here, my boys have gotten so weak, and many have gained fevers.' Trish and Sansa stared at the two small boys that sat in the corner, both sharing their mothers red hair. They were both sleeping, slumped against each other.

Velny finally took the two by the hands. Leading them to where her boys sat. 'Come sit down next to us, you two. It gets cold in the night and you don't want to be sleeping next to someone who's taken by madness.'