Loki: Game of Thrones

Chapter 101 - The Snake, the Wolf & the Dragon

Loki returned to the portis satis tuto, and was surprised to find Sansa standing there in the main entrance, holding a bolt of cloth in her hand. "Are those our new bed curtains?" Loki asked and Sansa threw it at him. Loki caught it and studied it quickly. He noticed the green material, the golden vines and runes, and lastly, the horned helmet design. Loki's lips trembled slightly as he restrained a smirk. As he glanced up at Sansa, he saw that her own lips were a thin line, and her hands were on her hips.

"I was at Petyr Baelish's pleasure house today," Sansa said.

"Probably not a good idea, but go ahead," Loki cut in and Sansa frowned at him. She brushed by him, snatching the cloth from his hands as she passed. Loki grinned before he turned around. He knew she was irritated, but the revealing brocade was only part of it.

"Baelish saw this. You are still 'dead' to the world, Loki. Don't you think that was a might careless?" Sansa challenged as she suddenly spun around to face him. Loki froze and looked down at her. Having already been deprived of her for one night, Loki was itching to hitch her skirts up and take her against the wall; but as he had said before, he was a god with enormous amounts of patience.

"Careless? Me? I declare, woman, I have no idea what you're talking about," Loki replied innocently. Sansa nodded before she began to finger the border of the silk, admiring the handiwork.

"Well, maybe you don't. But the cook said it was brought on a ship from the cities of Qarth, Mireen, and Astapor." She glanced up at him and raised her eyebrow. "I'm not an idiot, Loki. Those cities are under Daenerys Targaryen's control. And she would not go circulating something like this without your permission," Sansa pointed out. Loki shrugged and that was when Sansa reached up and snatched his collar. He grinned down at her while she glared up at him. "We're going to have a chat with her about this." Sansa waved the silk in Loki's face.

"Are you sure that's wise? It's late there, and she's likely to be engaging in adult activities," Loki replied. Sansa smacked the back of his head and Loki smoothed his hair down.

"What do you think we've been doing?!" Sansa snapped, gripping his wrist and dragging him to the door. Alfie just watched the whole thing unfold with a bored expression on his face. After a second of them arguing, he yawned, licked his paws, and began to wash his whiskers. Loki let Sansa lead him to the door before he finally dug his heels in and stopped her where she stood. She paused and glared at him over her shoulder.

"Do you even know where she is? I don't recall sharing that information with you," Loki told her. Sansa smirked mischievously and sidled up to him. She was soon breathing down his neck, her lips threateningly close to the pulse of his throat.

"No, you didn't. But that report from Daario Naharis on your desk says she's in Mireen," Sansa responded and Loki knew she had been snooping through his things. He had hidden that letter in one of his drawers. This statement did make him frown.

"You shouldn't be spying like that," he told her grouchily. Sansa shrugged and grinned.

"I want to take a more active role in this war. If you trust me, I think I can be very helpful to you," Sansa countered. With that, she dragged Loki through the front door. Once it closed behind them, they were in the hallways of the palace of Mireen. Torches lined the walls, and Sansa glanced out the window to see the dark city bathed in moonlight. She gasped, but it was the view of the ocean that had taken her breath away. Loki saw her studying the waves and realized that the child of winter, the woman of the North; loved the sea. The salty breeze caught Sansa's flaming red hair and a few strands brushed against the skin of Loki's neck. He licked his lips briefly before he was brought out of his trance by the sound of boots. He drew Sansa into his arms and looked up. Sure enough, he saw Greyworm approaching with a small patrol of Unsullied. He saluted the commander of the Unsullied.