Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12029670.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Game_of_Thrones_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Petyr_Baelish/Sansa_Stark
  Character:
      Petyr_Baelish, Sansa_Stark
  Additional Tags:
      Forgiveness, Anger, Rape_References, Older_man, Spoilers
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-08 Chapters: 4/4 Words: 4017
****** Winterfell Wonderland ******
by ladybaelishness
Summary
     My alternate end to season seven with some references to the books.
     Spoilers to anyone not caught up.
Notes
     This is my first time creative writing...ever so I would love any and
     all feedback! I've been sitting on this first "chapter" for weeks and
     even though I wanted to share it altogether I've broken it up to at
     least two parts. I don't own any of the characters and all that
     disclaimer stuff.
***** Chapter 1 *****
This was the first time in a long time she was rendered speechless. Upon her
arrival at King's Landing it happened frequently for she had been a child in
all respects of the word. She was older now, wiser, Lady of Winterfell, a true
leader, and Sansa Stark's responses were always the proper thing to say but
"Oh" was all she could muster.

"Does that make you uncomfortable?" A look of amusement flashed through his
eyes as he asked already knowing the answer.

She could tell he was enjoying this. It had been a long while since he had
really been able to catch her off-guard. Banter was his foreplay and knowledge
was always the goal.
Taking a heavy breath in she decided to be honest "Yes"

"A refreshing answer." He paused and walked over to the window gazing out into
the blanket of snow that draped over the lands of Winderfell. "Sansa love, you
never have to lie to me. You can speak freely in my confidence. You can trust
me."

"I find that very hard to believe Lord Baelish." She said picking up her quill
and looking down at the scroll she had been writing.

"You must know by now how much I care for you." The last time he said that he
had told her of her impending marriage. She cringed at the thought. "Your
interests are the only I value above my own sweetling." His gaze left the snow
outside and went to her face. She could tell he was staring but she didn't dare
meet his eyes. There might have been a time when she believed him. A time
before he gave her to Ramsay Bolton.

The Starks had reclaimed Winterfell but Sansa could never reclaim her life
before; she had been married to evil incarnate. It didn't matter that Lord
Baelish had saved them after the Battle of the Bastards, a part of her wished
she had died. So many people she loved were now gone, the sweet sleep of
eternity felt more home than Winterfell. Why had the gods taken Robb a true
born leader, sweet innocent Rickon, and the part of Bran that made him human?
Why did they spare her? Sansa tried not to dwell on despair for anger was
easier to let roll through her veins.

"What about Lord Stark? Did Hand of the King frequent your establishment?" She
spat not really wanting to know the answer. The previous topic of brothels
suddenly seeming more appealing than thoughts of Ramsay.

"No, love." His voice was barely above a soft whisper, the tenderness was
surprising considering he had no love for the Stark men. She finally met his
eyes and her hard look softened, she knew he was telling the truth.
Littlefinger had a knack for discovering the desires of men and women alike,
nothing happened in Westeros he didn't know about- sometimes before it even
happened. "Sansa, your father loved your mother very much. As jealous as I was,
the more I learned of Ned the more I knew he was the best man to be with Cat.
He was honorable. You're a lot like him you know, you are the best of both of
them. Thankfully your beauty mirrors the Tully house."

It was no secret Petyr loved her mother, they had a long history when they were
children at Riverrun. Lord Baelish had even married her mother's sister Lysa to
become Lord of the Vale. It was there in the Eryie he once kissed Sansa out in
the snow before saving her from her jealous aunt. He had shoved her out the
Moon Door killing his dear wife Lysa. That night still confused her. That was
the night she started playing Petyr's game.

"Father was the arguably the most respected man in the North and he still
fathered a bastard." She still held her quill in position but she had quit
writing. Saying those words left a bad taste in her mouth, she missed him, all
of them, so bad it hurt. "I meant no disrespect, regardless of what happened he
was still the most noble man I'd ever met." Tears were close and Sansa knew if
one escaped they would all come flooding down.

"Things aren't always as clear as they seem." He looked at her hard and she
sensed a hidden meaning in those words.

"What do you mean? What do you know?" She looked away from the letter she was
writing to Jon, the letter that only had 'Dearest brother' penned at the top
even though she had been sitting there for what felt like hours.

"What sounds more like your father, bringing home his bastard or the bastard or
someone he loved and was trying to protect?" His expression was usually hard to
read but a smirk of forbidden knowledge was on his eyes and lips.

"That does sound more like Father but have you ever looked at Jon and Robb
together? They favor far more than the rest of us. If you are done speaking in
riddles please allow me some peace and quiet." 

"No doubt both men are half Stark." His eyes were playful but he didn't give
anything else away. "Forgive me my lady, when Lord Snow returns there will be
much to discuss, until then I'll leave you to resume your correspondences." He
slightly bowed and left her alone.

Lady Sansa was surprised to find herself disappointed he obliged.
***** The Godswood *****
Chapter Summary
     Some Sansa reflection in the Godswood.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Sansa hadn't felt this restless in a long time. How was it possible to feel so
much and so little at the same time? She was home, she was warm, she was
protected, but she didn't feel safe. Sleep seemed impossible so she grabbed a
thick cloak and threw it over her smallclothes.
"I'm fine Brienne, really I am, I just want to visit the Godswood. Sometimes
when I'm alone I can feel Mother there." Sansa knew how ridiculous she sounded,
her mothers bones weren't even within the castle walls. Her father was in the
crypts and while she visited often her mother was who she needed most right
now. Without waiting for a response she pulled the hood over her bright auburn
hair and started walking.
Even the southerners couldn't deny the beauty of Winterfell when the snow came.
The snow was like a blanket covering all evidence of battles fought, structures
damaged, and lives lost. When you looked outside at the undisturbed white
wonderland it would take your breath away.
With every crunch of her footsteps she knew she was getting close to her
destination. Despite the cold and the dark Sansa sat down and looked at the big
tree and focused on her emotions one at a time.
The simplest emotion was her longing for Jon. Though the two hadn't been
particularly close as children she knew she had to make that right. The purest
soles she'd met had been judged their entire lives based on circumstances out
of their control. She thought back on her marriage to Lord Tyrion, she was
horrified when she learned of her betrothed but he was good to her. Sometimes
she wondered if she would have ever found a form of happiness if she'd stayed.
Sansa knew the answer though. It wasn't just her vanity but the Lannister
family that would have prevented contentment.
 
Jon would never replace Robb in her heart but she was determined to let him in.
Inevitably when she thought of her brother shame rolled through her stomach as
she thought of the other innocents she had wronged. Nothing broke her heart
more than the way she had treated her father. From the time she understood the
basic idea of procreation she had mixed emotions about her father. Ned Stark
was the best man she ever knew and she knew in her heart he couldn't have ever
betrayed her mother. No matter how hard she thought she couldn't understand why
if Jon was another man's bastard her father claimed him. Why not raise him as a
ward alongside his natural born children if he'd simply felt sorry for the boy?
Why would he put her mother through the heartache? Sansa knew if Jon wasn't her
blood brother her mother didn't know. Cat didn't hold any affection for Jon,
and wouldn't her father have told her the truth if he was indeed another man's
son? Or was this an attempt of Lord Baelish to undermine Jon Snow's claim to
the North?
Chapter End Notes
     I hadn't planned on this chapter but I promise some juicy stuff will
     be coming up soon! I know my explicit tag has been misleading...
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     Not as juicy as I originally anticipated, but this whole experience
     has taught me the best laid plans often change.
"I want you to leave." She tried to sound confident even though she was
everything but. Her eyes were focused on her cold feet as she burst into his
private chamber, she knew the minute she looked into his eyes she would have
second thoughts. She dismissed Brienne for the night but now she doubted she
did the right thing. Brienne wouldn't hesitate to get rid of Petyr Baelish,
cordially or permanently. The decision of who she needed to be Alayne Stone or
Sansa Stark, was usually easy, both girls had their strengths but they shared
one common weakness.
 
"It isn't proper for a lady to burst into a lords chamber unannounced" he said
with a crooked smile. She could never believe his nerve, but he knew she was
bluffing. His smirk quickly fleeted when he saw where her gaze landed, she was
staring at the scar that ran the length of this bare chest. He quickly reached
for a robe.
 
"I want you out of here by morning." This time she met his eyes. If her command
had hurt he betrayed nothing.
 
"And why the sudden urgency Sweetling?"
 
"What did you mean when we talked about Jon earlier? I don't want to wait, I
need you to tell me now." Her voice was void of any emotion. There were so many
questions.
 
"Jon is your aunt's son." She never expected such a direct response, "I've had
my suspicions but it's only recently been confirmed." He offered no more
information but somehow she knew it was true.
 
As Sansa drew a breath to respond she noticed very few of his personal
belongings were around. Petyr Baelish was a thorough man who never stayed
anywhere without his books, for someone to be so secretive he valued ledgers
and written records. The desk where his stationary sat was also empty. Her eyes
darted along the room until they confirmed her suspicion; he was already packed
to leave.
 
"You were already leaving." It wasn't a question. He was abandoning her again.
 
"If you'll recall it's what my lady commands". He saw the hurt in her eyes and
his voice was suddenly soft, "you don't need me anymore Sansa, I've come to
believe I'm only a hinderance to you. I am however leaving half of my men until
your brother returns, with them in addition to Brienne and your Northern allies
you be well protected. You are safe here."
 
She was still silent. Safe. She hadn't felt safe since the Vale. "Safe? You
took 'safe' away when you gave me to the Boltons." Her voice was louder with
every word. "You left me alone with this monster you betrothed me to. You left
me while this creature did unspeakable things to me. You were worlds away while
Ramsay broke me. You betrayed me." Sansa's voice broke as the hot tears steamed
down her eyes. "You were supposed to protect me." With the privacy they lacked
in Mole's Town she let herself cry. Alayne would never have lost composure like
this.
 
"Sansa look at me", he suddenly held her face in his hands. When did he cross
the room? "You are not broken. I can never take back what has happened to you
but you are strong. I would have murdered the bastard myself if I knew what
he'd do to you. Ramsay doesn't define you, no matter what happened it wasn't
your fault. You wanted to serve justice and avenge your family; you took the
first step by reclaiming your home but there is still more to go. I'm never
going to make decisions for you again, only you know what you want."
 
That was a lie for Sansa didn't know what she wanted. She wanted justice for
her family but at what cost? She couldn't endure another Ramsay. "What about
you? You call it justice but you continue to lie and manipulate, and for what
gain? Even right now you're trying to turn me against my brother. Why? What are
you trying to do to me now?"
 
"I'm trying to help you see your situation for what it is. If Jon isn't your
brother who has more claim to the North? You Sansa. How can he be King in the
North, Warden of the North, and Lord Protector of the Nights Watch? That's not
even entertaining the possibility he may be involved with the Targaryan Queen,
I hear they've gotten quite close. Where does that leave you? What do you want?
You've grown into a strong leader, do you want to rule? Do you want to simply
wait around for an advantageous match and be Lady of some house? I don't think
so, I see the ambition in your eyes, you know you were destined for more. The
way you looked descending the staircase as Alayne is something I'll never
forget, you were absolutely breathtaking it and was the moment I saw you as an
equal. Lying about your aunts death to save me was one thing, that could easily
just be self interest, but as Alayne you awakened a power you didn't know you
had. You aren't the only one who embodies two different people, I know better
than anyone. This is what I'm trying to make you see Sansa. I want to help you.
What can I do to make you forgive me for failing you?"
 
Her head was spinning. There was so much she wanted to say, she wanted to
scream at him until he felt the weight of what he'd done. But he was right,
Sansa couldn't have did this on her own. She had never thought how much she
truly needed Alayne just as Petry needed Littlefinger. Alayne had power, she
could manipulate, she could do things to achieve Sansa wouldn't dare; it was if
two souls danced as one.
 
He quit stroking her cheek and pulled a dagger out from his trunk. He put the
blade to his throat and Sansa's hand on the hilt. "If you believe I'd knowingly
give the woman I love to a monster run the blade along my throat. I've almost
paid that price once and there's no one I'd rather die for."
 
She studied his eyes, tightened her grip and applied pressure; Petyr didn't
budge. Her feelings for him had always been complicated. He was the person that
knew her best, he saved her more times than she could count, he was her mentor,
her friend, and he woke desires no man had ever made her feel. She hadn't felt
her body on fire since he kissed her in the Eryie, it was the first time she
wanted to give in to pure passion. It was the first taste of the feeling so
many were a slave to. She didn't think she would ever want someone to touch her
again but this time when he pushed his lips to hers she didn't pull away.
 
His kiss was soft and she lowered the dagger, she didn't remember him putting
it down but suddenly both of his hands were on her face. As quickly as it
started it stopped, he placed a small kiss on her forehead and took a step
backward. He dropped his head and took her hands in his.
 
"I'm sorry Sansa." Even now, so close to getting what he'd wanted for so long
he restrained. "I'm not a good man." When he looked into her eyes he saw an
innocence he hadn't seen since the Eyrie. She was scared, but not of him, she
was scared of what she wanted. She had never thought about her nights with
Ramsay as anything other than a means to an end. He needed their heir to really
cement his hold on the North and when he took her it was always the same. It
wouldn't be that way with Petyr. She wanted him to be the first lover she laid
with.
 
Her answer was the removal of her cloak which just left her in her
smallclothes. Her auburn hair was set free from her hood and she looked like he
had always imagined. Neither of them moved or looked away. She took a deep
breath in and tugged at the shoulders of her last remaining defense.
 
In the light of the fireplace Sansa Stark stood completely naked, exposed, and
vulnerable. The shades of gray and green left his eyes and all she saw was
black. Suddenly his hands were on her waist and pulled her close. He ran his
hands up the smooth skin of her arms until one stroked her neck as the other
buried in her hair. Their lips met again, only this time his tongue sought hers
and she responded by pushing off his robe. Every nerve was alert as his hands
exploded her body, she could tell he was holding back, afraid she would change
her mind. She dropped her hands lower until she tugged down the last of his
smallclothes and wrapped her fingers around his swollen cock. The moan that
escaped his mouth was unlike anything she'd ever heard and in that moment she
knew she was in control.
 
She felt the bed behind her, when had he led her there? She finally broke the
kiss and put her hands on the soft furs. He whole body stiffened in
anticipation of what was to come. The view was unlike anything he'd ever seen,
she was willingly submitting herself in spite of everything. He knew enough
from the brothels to know most men mounted like animals; Ramsay must have been
no different. He ran his palms from her thighs all the way to her shoulders and
turned her around to face him. "Lay back" came out guttural but she didn't
hesitate.
 
They laid side by side touching, exploring, testing boundaries. One hand went
to her alabaster breast, stroking, pinching, and then to the other before
working it's way further down. With every sound from her lips permission was
granted, permission to do whatever he wanted. Next time he'd kiss every inch of
her body, but right now they both needed the same thing.
 
Reaching his goal he wasn't surprised to feel she was ready, and when he
removed his fingers she moaned in protest. He spread her legs with his knee,
brought his lips up to kiss her one last time and she slowly nodded knowing
what he was asking. With one quick thrust their partnership was cemented. He
moved slowly, enjoying the tight fit, and realized he wouldn't last long. When
he felt her thrusts quicken he went harder, deeper, and then without breaking
contact rolled over. Her newfound control made holding out longer impossible.
Knowing the end was near by her intensifying screams he too gave in to the
waves of pleasure and came crashing down hard.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

She ran her fingers lightly over the scar on Petyr's chest. She felt him hold
his breath as her fingers danced over the area close to where her head was
resting.
"Does it hurt?" She whispered softly.
"Only the memory. Until recently it's always been my most shameful". He let his
grip tighten on her hair ever so lightly as if to make sure she was really
there. Sansa didn't know how long they had laid there not speaking, it could
have been a few minutes or it could have been hours. With every stroke of his
soft hands she felt a little safer. Their intimacy had never felt forced, even
now after all they'd been through but intimacy and trust were very different.
Complete trust was something she didn't know if she'd ever feel towards anyone
again but at that moment she was content.
"What happens when the sun comes up?"
"I don't have any expectations Sansa. This can mean as little or as much as you
want it to. I can promise you I will not take another lover, I haven't in quite
some time." He kissed her forehead and forced himself up to pour two goblets of
wine. Sansa rolled over on her belly and stole the spot still warm where he
laid. She took a minute to appreciate his body as there was no reserve this
time. They were both unashamed as she didn't try to hide her curiosity; she had
never studied a naked man before. She had also never seen him disheveled, his
hair was wild and he suddenly possessed a raw animalistic quality she'd never
noticed. She knew the look well, Ramsay's eyes often contained pure lust, but
it was blood lust, it was the need to torture. Petyr's eyes were just as
intense but it wasn't danger she saw.
He always had a confidence most men lacked. His confidence almost bordered on
arrogance but he had more control than anyone she'd ever met. Sansa wondered if
she could ever possess that kind of self assurance, she knew Alayne could. She
always knew who she was but on this night both Alayne and Sansa acted as one.
"What about your girls? Doesn't a brothel keeper indulge in his business?" She
hadn't had time to think about it before but now she wondered if her lack of
experience made her a poor lover. Petyr knew exactly what to do to take her
breath away, he had the touch of a man well practiced.
He held her eyes as he took long gulps from the large glass and walked closer
to hand her the other. "They're all the way in Kings Landing," and then he
laughed at her wide eyes. "No love, I never minded the services of whores.
Men's passions are often their undoing, I've been fortunate enough to turn a
profit from it." He brought the rest of the wine to his lips and drank it down.
"What about you? What are your true passions?" Sansa loved the way the furs
felt under her bare feet, the warmth of the fire on her exposed body, and the
wine warming her belly. Every sensation in this room was pleasurable.
"I was always certain my ambition would be my downfall, I've been careful but
my judgment has been greatly affected by my larger passion." He brushed his
fingers over her ankles and stroked her feet softly. She involuntary stiffened
but relaxed to his touch. "I don't expect you'll ever forget what has happened
to you", he was now stroking the length of her leg up to her knee, "but I
promise you Sansa Stark I'll never lay a cruel hand to you." His fingers were
replaced with lips as he kissed his way up. "I will always worship your perfect
body", a hand was now on her thigh. "I'll always be gentle and treat you like
the highborn lady you are", lips were now running over new territory higher and
higher.
Petyr suddenly grabbed her leg and flipped her on her back. His eyes went from
green to black and he lowered his mouth to her ear and his fingers even lower.
"But should my sweet niece Alayne ever share by bed I will fuck her hard." His
hand was now between her long legs teasing at entry. "I will take her to the
line where pain meets pleasure. I will do things to her only a brothel keeper
would dare". With every word whispered she rose her hips to meet his hand but
he pulled away and kissed her hard. In that moment nothing mattered; not the
guard outside the door, not Ramsay Bolton, nothing but the newfound passion. He
broke their kiss for the second time that night looking ashamed, "I'm sorry I-"
"Stop talking...uncle".
 
Chapter End Notes
     Thank you all that have allowed me to share some writing, this has
     been a surprisingly liberating experience! I really love exploring
     all the different sides of Petyr, I couldn't decided if I wanted him
     gentle, dominating, or a combination of both. I may do some more
     exploring, I haven't decided yet ;)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!