Trust (GOT fanfic)

Snow

The soft padding of feet in snow interrupted her reminiscing. Oh yes, here comes "Sweetrobin" to have his little fits in my lap. What enjoyable activity might he have in store for me today?

Instead she felt a firm hand on her shoulder, the same hand that had pulled her from the fears King's Landing held. Her eyes followed the fingers, to the arm, to the face of Lord Baelish. He stood over her smiling sadly at her, his eyes transfixed on her like they had gone out of focus while looking at her. It was the way he often looked at her when no one was watching. It left a chill to wiggle down her spine and put her hair on end.

"It's far too cold out here." He scolded, "I must insist my daughter not catch cold. Who might I trust to watch the Vale when I leave on my trips."

"Have you been called away again then?" She inquired, turning her face out over the vast expanse of mountain.

"No," He shook his head, his fingers stroking the darker hair away from her face. "You do look beautiful among the snow."

"That's very kind of you father." Sansa bowed her head and smiled sweetly.

"Good girl,"

His hands fell to her waist, where he pulled her onto her feet. His arm wrapped around her side as he escorted the two back into the mountain castle.

"It's all well and good to keep up appearances in public," He smiled casually at her. She could see the visible change in his eyes as he regarded her. "But theres no need here, now. Out in this open air we might call each other what we like."

"My apologies, Lord Baelish." Sansa's head fell to her chest. "I was only worried someone might spot us."

"Not in such a secluded area as you have picked, my dear. Tell me, are you hiding from your little cousin then?"

"No never," she allowed herself to smirk.

Petyr's eyes lighted with mischief and pride. "My little mockingbird has found her sense of humor out here in the cold then?"

His brow furrowed as he scrutinzed her face, his hand tangling in her hair.

"Have you been crying again?"

"I was only thinking of...."

"I told you not to think of it." He snapped, his eyes darkening dangerously.

Sansa began to panick. She had watched him push her aunt from that door in the middle of the floor. What if she werent a good student, if she was not longer the pawn he wanted her to be.

In a strange moment of clarity she straightened and looked up at the man before her.

"Not of that, but of how you saved me from the wretched place. I was only thinking of what would have happened to me if you had not taken my under your wing. It can be.. truly frightening." She allowed a little sob to escape from her mouth as her eyes cast down to the snow covered stone.

Petyr's fingers laced under her chin, tilting to make her meet his eyes. That frightening stare had been replaced with the softest gleam. His earlier lesson echoed in her head, there are only the players and the pawns for the players to move. If his tuteledge had taught her anything it was to choose what to be a player instead. And so Sansa Stark would play this lovely little man, whom betrayed his own lessons everytime she was around.

"My mockingbird grows stronger everyday." He grinned. "You should know better though than to play me. But what a sweet story you cooked up. It'd be devilish if I were to ignore such an effort without a reward."

His hands dropped from her shoulders to pull her flush against him. His eyes fluttered as he bent to kiss her. His lips were warm against the cold. His kisses more precis than that of Ser Dontos which had been sloppy. Sansa could feel his hands on her hips, the warmth from him. It was more comfort than she had allowed herself to feel than when Margery had rescued her from the marriage with Joffrey.

Though Lord Baelish was sly and impossible to read. He at least allowed her to feel safe. It was not a lie when she had said she was thankful he had saved her. She often thought of what would have happened if she had remained in King's Landing. He could see through her, it was true. But perhaps not as well as he thought.

Her hands were timid at first, but they soon found there way to him. She held the Lord Protector of the Vale against her in an attempt at human contact. He pulled away slightly, his eyes wide and confused. The Stark could watch him change in an instant, Littlefinger was replaced with the child like wonder that could be seen in Petyr at times. His grin widened and pulled her close again, his head burried in her shoulder.

There was always a game afoot with Lord Baelish. Sansa felt she might like to play a round. After all, what fun was there in merely watching.