#petyr & sansa

[ericanoelle]

What it Means to be Silent

Chapter Two: The Pleasure of Being Wrong

Joffrey was furious . The tantrum he had thrown in the aftermath of Petyr’s arrival caused Sansa immense satisfaction to see his desires uprooted. She remained silent, allowing him to rant, throw things and act like an overgrown child. She watched as his mother attempted to calm him, soothe him and promise that everything would be just fine while Kevan did his best to reason with him, to pull him away from the notion that the best way to handle the issue was to cut off their heads. Even if Joffrey attempted to do such a thing, she doubted that he would be successful. Even before she left the throne room, she could see that Petyr was not a man who was able to be bullied. 

Hours had passed and once Joffrey was done yelling and screaming, having made his way down into the black cells for the night, Sansa found herself weaving along the secret passageways that not many people knew about. Before Varys had vanished with Tyrion and Sansa had been able to pull herself from her bed after everything, she began to note where the spy master was in the castle and how he got around it. She had been pleased to discover that her own chambers had another entrance, one Joffrey was not aware of. She wasn’t a fool, she knew that Varys had been aware that she was watching him. He said nothing, if anything he made it easier for her to learn most, if not all, of the dark and weaving passages. 

Bran held a torch above her head, allowing the light to guide them through the darkness. Loras stayed behind, guarding her chamber door as thought she was nestled inside it, laying in her bed. She knew Joffrey wouldn’t come for her, not that night. She knew him well enough to anticipate his habits and he needed to take his anger out on someone that he did not need to remain alive. Sansa would be left alone and it gave her the time to leave her chambers without suspicion.  

Cersei had made the arrangements for Petyr’s stay; assigning rooms that she assumed would be watched and knew the servants who would come and go from every chamber. Little spies and birds who whispered what she wanted to hear but it wasn’t enough. Cersei’s eyes couldn’t reach every inch of the Red Keep, especially the parts that she did not realize existed. Sansa made sure to learn the arrangements, to know how to reach them without being seen. 

Read the Rest on A03

[azulolivart]

An unequal marriage in Westeros.

[doradeluna]

The queen wore a high-collared black silk gown, with a hundred dark red rubies sewn into her bodice, covering her from neck to bosom. They were cut in the shape of teardrops, as if the queen were weeping blood. Cersei smiled to see her, and Sansa thought it was the sweetest and saddest smile she had ever seen.

This was supposed to be another quick one that took me a literal month of work, on and off, and over 20 hours of audiobook listened while doing it. There's something to be said about how nowadays I'm more comfortable with working on pieces for longer and just chipping away at work rather than staying up until 4 am to finish something on a rush but like. Anyway, Sansa's POV! Cersei's revenge dress! Murdered husband! Misogyny will come for us all in the end!

Commissions open!

bonus: pycelle's dumb face

[daphncart]

He bewitched them, Alayne thought as she lay abed that night listening to the wind howl outside her windows. She could not have said where the suspicion came from, but once it crossed her mind it would not let her sleep. She tossed and turned, worrying at it like a dog at some old bone. Finally, she rose and dressed herself, leaving Gretchel to her dreams. Petyr was still awake, scratching out a letter. “Alayne,” he said. “My sweet. What brings you here so late?”

Walking the Eyrie at night, Alayne I, AFFC

[franzkafkagf]

you're your mother, sweetling; you sunk your teeth, ragged and sharp into my mother, she let you suck her dry. now you sink your teeth into me, and I'll let you suck me dry.

inspired by this post by @15step

Mine / A Storm of Swords – George R. R. Martin / House of the Dragon / A Game of Thrones – George R. R. Martin / A Feast for Crows – George R. R. Martin / A World of Ice and Fire – George R. R. Martin / Fire and Blood – George R. R. Martin

[stheresya]

the absolute freudian nightmare that is petyr and sansa's dynamic. he is obsessed with her because she's like a young version of the woman he loved while also viewing her as the daughter that could've been his, but the cherry on top is him making her call herself alayne which is the name of his own mother. meanwhile sansa is forced to accept petyr as her father whilst having to endure him sexually pestering her on a daily basis. radioactive levels of creepiness over here.

[charliedawn]

"Marry me."

How I think marriage proposals would go for those characters.

Sandor Clegane:

"…Wanna get married ?" You asked as both you and Sandor were sleeping side by side in the forest. Sandor blinked—half asleep. He had back pain and a headache. He had hoped that the wine would help him to fall asleep quicker, as to not have to hear you say any other crazy thing or request for the day. But, of course. He was mistaken.

"Huh ?" When the information seemed to eventually settle in his brain, his whole face seemed a perfect depiction of confusion. He finally turned around and you could see in his eyes that he wasn’t exactly sober either. You decided this was the perfect moment to ask—since he would probably not even remember you asked the next morning. It gave you courage to ask again.

"Wanna get married ?" You repeated with a little more determination and this time, he answered.

"No."

"Ah."

"…"

"…"

"…You. Wanna get married ?" He asked this time—more because he was curious than awaiting an actual answer. But, you took your chance and answered truthfully.

"Sure."

He was momentarily surprised by your confidence before he huffed a laugh and wrapped an arm around you.

"…Fine. We’ll get married in the morning. Now, hush."

There was then a moment of silence before you both bursted out laughing. Just two drunks having the most normal conversation ever. You knew that by tomorrow, he would have surely forgotten all about tonight. But for now, you were satisfied with the knowledge that his subconscience hadn’t said no.

Oberyn Martell:

"Would you like to marry me ?" You asked Oberyn while he wad writing and whose lips curved slightly into a small smirk at the request. He was used to your rather straightforward nature. He liked it even. It made him laugh and enjoy your presence at parties. You were curious and completely unashamed or afraid of any consequences your requests or demands would bring. This is why he always caved. But, he could also be playful and this is why he answered with a small grin:

"No."

He was curious to see your reaction, but his smile slightly faltered when he saw the hurt in your eyes at his rejection. It was the first time he had seen you so upset and he immediately regretted his words.

"Oh. Okay then." You were embarrassed and turned around quickly to get back to your own private quarters. But he was by your side in an instant and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"I was only kidding. I would LOVE to marry you, sweet peach."

He then kissed the back of your neck lovingly. You let out a sigh of relief as you leaned back against him.

"…Really ?"

He chuckled.

"Yes. Really."

He then kissed your temple and you stayed in his arms for a while before he started nuzzling the back of your neck.

"But what brought the subject, sweet peach ?"

You sighed before closing your eyes.

"…You’re the only one who truly enjoys my presence. You laugh and smile at me, even when my words are nonsense. So I thought…why not ask ?"

Oberyn seemed taken aback for a moment before his smile widened and he pressed your back further against him to kiss your shoulder and whisper in your ear.

"Let me tell you a little secret. I would marry you for your nonsense, my dear. Because your nonsense makes more sense to me than this whole world does…"

Tyrion Lannister:

"Do you want to marry me ?" You asked Tyrion one night and the man was so stunned that he spilled his cup of wine.

"What ?"

Tyrion was the most decent between all the Lannisters. He had helped you more than once and there was no doubt in your proposal. You would never find better husband.

"You heard me."

He stayed silent again and made you nervous. Would he refuse ? Would he tell you that he has already found someone ? Would he tell you that he has no interest in you ? But, he didn’t. He simply sighed.

"…Why ?"

Why ? You could tell him a thousand reasons why. Because he was one of the few good men you knew. Because you had no intention of marrying any other. Because you knew he could be gentle. Because he was funny. Because he could be brave. Because he had the heart of a true lion…but no. You wouldn’t tell him like that. Because even if you did, he wouldn’t believe you.

"Because I want to." You settled for instead and his eyes widened slightly in surprise before he smiled a little and shook his head.

"Why would you want to marry an imp ?"

"It is not an imp that I am marrying, but a prince." You retorted. You both stared at each other and his gaze softened as he started actually considering it for a moment.

"You would be miserable." You frowned in incomprehension at his words.

"Why ?" He glanced away for a second.

"Because I am not a good man."

You huffed a bitter laugh at his words.

"Haven’t you heard ? There are no good man left, my prince."

Tyrion seemed taken aback, but he couldn’t deny the truth behind your words and drank a little of his wine.

"Tell me, Tyrion. If I was to become your wife/husband. Would you hit me ? Would you abuse me ? Would you lie to me ?"

He shook his head with a small smile. No. He wouldn’t. You smiled back and Tyrion finally nodded understandingly. It wasn’t about love. It wasn’t about finding a good man. It was always about finding the one who wouldn’t hurt you…And hence, he understood and maybe…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a wife/husband ?

Jaime Lannister:

"Jaime…" You sat down next to him at the feast prepared for the Lannisters and even though you could feel Cersei glaring daggers at you—you grabbed his hand. He didn’t react, but you could feel his fingers slightly curving to hold yours.

"Hello, buttercup." He finally greeted you in a whisper and you couldn’t help but smile weakly. You knew of his heart and his loyalty to his sister. It wasn’t really your business to interfere, but you didn’t like how Cersei was treating him. And, you also knew that his heart could maybe be won over.

So, you did the most nonsense ever and challenged him. You stood up and faced him—catching the attention of everyone in the room as you declared loudly.

"Jaime Lannister. I challenge you to an arm wrestling competition !"

That ought to have gained his attention as his eyes finally met yours and what he found in there made his eyes widen in surprise. You were determined and even though he was a knight—you didn’t seem scared of losing. He tried to laugh and wave it off as a mere joke—but you didn’t back down and even provoked him.

"Are you perhaps not a lion ? But a scared chicken ?"

That oughta do it. He was up before you could even pronounce another word and the fury in his eyes made you smile. He had taken the bait.

"If I win, you must agree to one single demand of my choice without knowing what it is !"

"And if I win ?" He quickly shot back and you bit back a laugh.

"Then I will give you whatever you want."

In a matter of minutes, everything was settled and you were both in position. Everyone assumed you were mad or had consumed too much wine to challenge Jaime Lannister—but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You had planned it carefully. You had trained and trained your body and your mind. You had worn big sleeves to hide the muscles hidden underneath. This could be the most important challenge of your life and you wanted to win. More than anything.

The moment Jaime gripped your hand, his eyes stared straight at you as he realised what you had done. This was not the strength of the Y/N he was accustomed to…but it was too late to stop and in a matter of seconds—Jaime Lannister was on the floor.

Everyone was stunned.

But, you only gracefully stood up from your seat and looked down at him before smirking.

"…I will be waiting for that marriage proposal." And with that, you were out of the room—leaving a very confused Jaime and a very angry Cersei behind. But, you knew that a lion never backed down from his word. And Jaime would be yours.

Petyr Baelish (Littlefinger) :

"Marry me." Littlefinger didn’t even seem surprised by you sudden demand. Everyone knew that your father wished to marry you off to Ramsay Bolton. And even though Littlefinger wasn’t sure why you would come to him with such a request, he didn’t show it.

He didn’t even look up as he simply asked.

"Why ?"

You huffed a bitter laugh. The man would sell mother and father for a throne. And he dared to ask why ?

"Does it matter ?"

He licked his thumb to turn the page of the book he was reading nonchalantly, even though you knew that he was secretly weighing the pros and cons of such an alliance.

"Depends. What will it bring me ?"

You looked away.

"Don’t pretend not to realise how advantageous it would be for you to be a part of the Lannister family. You’d have an easy access to the iron throne."

He hummed and pretended to think about it. It was true marrying you would be a fast way to get access to all the nice advantages of being a part of the so-called prestigious Lannister family. But, it had its own set of disadvantages to consider. He would become more than just a little man in the shadows that no one would deem worthy of being a threat, he would become a lion. A black lion.

"…Tell me why you would lower yourself to such an alliance with me. Surely, there would be one handsome young man who would say yes to such a proposal without even blinking. Why go to me, princess/prince ?"

You hesitated before sighing in defeat.

"…Because if I am to marry a snake, better be one I know than one chosen by Tywin Lannister."

At that, Petyr finally dignified you with a glance. You held his gaze and after a few seconds, he smiled.

"Very well, my beauty. Lead the snake to the lion’s den then."

Sansa Stark:

You and Sansa had been longtime allies and friends. You were maybe the only friend she had ever had after the almost complete destruction of House Stark. You had developed feeling for her over time and knew that asking her for her hand wouldn’t be easy—but you were willing to try.

"Please, Sansa of House Stark." You knelt on one knee before her with a rose in your hand and the other hand on your heart. "Would you marry me ?"

Sansa was surprised by the proposal. She had married twice and both marriages weren’t a success. She had lived through nightmares and pain out of such a dream as marriage. She used to want to get married with someone she loved so badly, but not anymore.

"My heart is not so easily won by a rose and pretty words anymore." She replied instead—thinking that she would succeed in breaking your resolve. But, she was mistaken.

"I know. I know that I may never be worthy of even your eyes on me. But…I am a fool, and my heart beats for you. And if you want it ? Then it’s yours. And even if you don’t want it. Let me fight for you. And prove my loyalty to the most beautiful and strong lady the North has ever seen." You pleaded and Sansa was rendered speechless.

She looked into your eyes and saw only love and adoration. She then glanced down at the rose you offered her and after a moment of hesitation, she finally took it.

"…You may try to win my heart, Y/N. But, I cannot promise you success."

You smiled and shook your head.

"Just having you acknowledge my feelings is enough for hope to enter my heart."

Sansa smiled back.

Maybe…romance wasn’t utterly dead.

Jon Snow: (Before the tragedy 😭)

"Marry me." It was said with such confidence that Jon himself was stunned as he looked up at you with widened eyes.

"What ?"

"You heard me."

There was a moment of silence before Jon smiled and he suddenly pulled you into his arms. There was no yes or no. Just a moment of pure euphoria as he couldn’t stop laughing as he buried his face in your chest. He was so happy, he forgot to form words.

When he was finally calm once more, he kissed you passionately.

"Yes. Yes. Yes, I will."

You both started laughing together and Jon even fell back on the snow as you held him tightly.

Daenerys:

"Marry me." You demanded and Daenerys looked back at you. She didn’t seem surprised or even mildly confused by the demand. She knew of your feelings for her—and she was more than happy to reciprocate.

But, marriage ?

Marriage meant boundaries. Marriage meant attachment. Marriage meant she would have to think about you and a possible future where she wasn’t all powerful.

She sighed before stroking your cheek and offering you an apologetic smile.

"My dear Y/N…If only I could, do not believe for a second that I would say no. But, as the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms…I cannot."

You closed your eyes and a few tears rolled down your cheeks. You had expected such an answer of course, but still…your heart ached.

"I…understand." You forced yourself to say and Daenerys nodded. She was a queen. A khaleesi. And you were just…human.

Ser Jorah:

"Please. Marry me." Ser Jorah was stunned at the unexpected request and turned towards you with widened eyes. He was about to answer when you quickly added.

"Love me. Hate me. I want you and you want her. But, I am not asking for your love. But for your protection, kind ser Jorah." He closes his mouth and seemed to think about it for a moment. He knew that you were a young lady/man who had left her/his family to join Daenerys. He had no idea you held such feelings for him…

"You can have my protection, but why go to such lengths to have it ?" He finally asked and you sighed before taking his hand in yours.

"Because it is not only physical protection I seek." You then laid his hand flat upon your heart and Ser Jorah seemed taken aback once more. He looked at you and you didn’t shy away from his gaze.

You knew Ser Jorah was honourable and even if he would never return your feelings, he would make a far greater husband than anyone you ever knew. He would respect you and your heart. And that was more than you could ever wish for…

Ser Jorah accepted.

After all, it was only his name that you were going to bear and his sword that would protect you. You would call him husband, but only in name.

[flying-ham]

imagine being 11 years old at the westerosi equivalent of a football game and ur moms estranged adopted brother comes up to you, tells you he wanted to fuck ur mom, strokes ur cheek, and then leaves

[thatscruelsummer]

Petyr cut a pomegranate in two with his dagger, offering half to Sansa. “You should try and eat, my lady.” “Thank you, my lord.” Pomegranate seeds were so messy; Sansa chose a pear instead, and took a small delicate bite. It was very ripe. The juice ran down her chin.

Sansa Stark, inspired by Persephone

[agirlcalledlia]

“I wish you could see yourself, my lady. You are so beautiful. You’re crusted over with snow like some little bear cub, but your face is flushed and you can scarcely breathe.”

I gave her a bird pin similar to Petyr’s since Alayne is meant to be his bastard daughter, but it’s a dove instead :) idk if I even like this drawing ngl ;-;

[ericanoelle]

What it Means to Be Silent sneak peak

When Sansa curled her fingers against his and their palms touched, showing that she held no fear of him, did they dance. 

There was no music as they swayed, the gentle breeze echoing around them as they moved. It was a dance that Sansa was not familiar with. It had elements that mimicked the ones she had shared with Joffrey before Petyr’s poison had taken hold but when he spun her, taking her off guard, did she find herself laughing. Petyr grinned, the first honest smile she had seen on his lips since he stepped foot into the city. He was enjoying their dance, both current and among the game they played, far more than she realized. It had been so long since she felt connected to another person. It was something she had not felt since she left the North. 

They twirled again, causing Sansa to trip over her feet in the unfamiliar movement, causing her to fall against Petyr’s chest. He did not let her fall, instead holding her tight against him, allowing her to lean against him. He was sturdy and warm, his hand moving from her shoulder to her waist, his fingers leaving a trail of shivers down the length of her arm as he did. Sansa peered up into his eyes, blue locking with green and she could feel the cold walls that she surrounded herself with slowly begin to melt. 

“Where did you learn to dance? Riverrun?”

“No.” Petyr chuckled, tossing his head to the side, his soft smile holding strong. “I spent some time in Lys a few years back. I have an old friend there and in the pleasure gardens, you learn all sorts of seductions and freedoms.” He moved his hand towards her face, gently tucking a stray curl behind her ear, caressing her cheekbone as he went. “I believe you would like Lys.”

“Would I?” Sansa asked, her tone coming out in breathy whispers. Petyr did not answer, instead only nodding. “And is this seduction? Dancing on a balcony beneath the stars and in the candlelight?” Sansa leaned forward, the tips of their noses touching and pressing her forehead against his. “Is this what it feels like to be desired?”

“Only if the Queen wants it to be.”

[asoiafpalestine]

our twenty-eighth art piece is…

sansa/alayne and petyr baelish by @sleazyjanet

if you’d like art of your own drawn out by a random artist on our team, donate 15 CAD or more to Siraj’s campaign!

[wodania]

stole this and drew it with asoiaf characters

[daphncart]

"Alayne, my sweet, more wine for our noble guests." "As you say, Father."

Serving the Lords Declarant, Alayne I, AFFC

[undeniablespice]

thought too much about sansa stark from meorge reorge rartin gartin’s seminal fantasy series a song of ice and fire and now i want to fall into an endless abyss. i am so serious when i say that teenage girls should be able to kill people with impunity. especially grown men. holy shit. she is TWELVE