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Published:
2019-05-01
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2020-11-12
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42,288
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25/25
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Faraway

Chapter 25

Notes:

I hope you enjoy the epilogue :-)

The premise of this fic is inspired by the movie Dead Again starring Kenneth Branagh and Emma Thompson. I recommend it if you like the movies that balance suspense and romance.

Thank you so much for reading! :-)

Chapter Text

Several weeks later

 

Today it was a day to celebrate.

They’d come back to the building where they’d stayed for the days it took them to recover, for a routine medical examination.

This wasn’t their first routine medical examination since then. Aemon’s answer had been categorical when they’d asked if such an exhaustive follow-up was necessary. He’d told them that he wouldn’t leave them alone until he was sure both of them were totally recovered.

Last week, he’d taken a blood sample from both of them last week. Today, he showed them the results. Every reference value was within the normal range.

Aemon also examined Sansa’s scar. It was pale pink, which meant the wound had healed properly. He told her that applying honey would help it fade and would nourish her skin.

Later he’d asked her several questions: How was she sleeping lately? Did she feel tired? Was she eating enough fruits? Had she had any other visions since the last one?

Sansa had answered every one of his questions.

It had been months since the last time she’d slept so well; the fact that she hadn’t had any other visions since the day Ms Elliot had laid a trap for her, and the knowledge that she hadn’t plotted Petyr’s death in her past life had given her a peace of mind she hadn’t experienced in a long time. It also helped that Petyr slept next to her in the bed every night since they’d gone back to his house. Now it was their house, he’d told her, for as long as she wanted it to be.

He also felt much more energized, and the hint of concern that had been lurking beneath his gaze since Sansa had met him was now gone. He was often in a playful mood, and Sansa had found that she loved their banter.

There was still one thing left to create the perfect picture.

They hadn’t made love yet. Sansa hadn’t mentioned it since the day he’d rejected her before she had the false memory and wrote the letter. She understood why he’d said no. Neither of them were emotionally ready, and her wound hadn’t healed completely back then.

The vision she’d had in the room where Ms Elliot, Cersei and Joffrey had planned to kill her was still so vivid, as if it had happened only a few days ago, instead of in another life.

Her vision had been a real memory and had only made her desire for him grow. She’d been holding back as they recovered, but now that Aemon had said that both of them were recovered, there was no reason to wait any longer.

“Petyr.” She turned to him when he closed the front door behind them.

They were home.

He was placing the keys on the shelf, but he paused when he heard her tone of voice. He was wearing a black coat over his gray sweater and dark wash jeans, and he hadn’t shaved in the past few days, so he’d grown a light stubble.

He looked so good.

“Petyr,” she repeated and approached him.

The corner of his mouth twitched and he tilted his head. His fingertips brushed over the shelf before he lowered his arm.

“Aemon said we are recovered,” she said, stopping in front of him. She placed her hands on the collar of his coat.

His lips curved up.

“Did he?”

She laughed. He’d been there. He’d heard him too.

“Yes,” she said, and slid her hands under his coat. “How are you feeling, Petyr? Are you tired?”

He leaned forward.

“I’m picturing our bed right now, but sleeping is not in my plans,” he murmured. His hands grabbed her by the waist, and she gasped when he pulled her closer.

She saw his wicked smile reaching his eyes.

And then all his self-control slipped and his mouth claimed hers, and she was almost certain he’d growled when she kissed him back.

She removed his coat eagerly as his tongue and teeth and lips devoured her, as his hands traveled over her body with desperation, as if he wanted to make sure that she was really here, that she wasn’t an illusion, that they’d faced the death and had come back.

His coat fell off, neither of them caring about it, and he pushed her backwards, until her legs hit a table.

Sansa gasped, but he swallowed the sound. His hands cupped her ass, and he lifted her and placed her on the table. Her right arm brushed away a glass ashtray as she tried to keep her balance. The ashtray slid across the wooden surface, but neither of them paid it any attention.

“Mine,” Petyr growled, pushing her sweater over her head, and kissing her throat and her collarbone.

Sansa whimpered and closed her eyes. She knew he’d also been holding back all this time, that he’d also been craving after this, and now he was showing her.

Oh, he was.

His lust only ignited hers. She wasn’t afraid of him. She knew what he was capable of; what he could do to those who hurt the ones he loved.

What would she have done if Petyr had been in that stretcher instead of her? She would never know. No one got to know themselves fully. One could never know how they’d react under certain circumstances.

However, deep down, Sansa suspected she'd have done the same.

“Petyr.” She shivered when he kissed the skin above her bra and the spot between her breasts.

“My brave, strong, girl.” He lowered his head and nibbled at the side of her belly lightly, as his hands moved down to grab her outer thighs. He squeezed them before sliding his hands under her knees.

His movements became gentler when his mouth touched her belly. He breathed out, as if trying to regain some control. Slowly, he gave light pecks along her scar. She guessed that he feared his touch might hurt her.

She caressed his head to show him that she was alright. He hadn’t gotten a haircut in a month. Her fingers buried in his hair, and she heard a strangled noise escape his lips.

“Sansa.” He lifted his head to meet her eyes, and there was a pained expression on his face. Sansa knew he was thinking of Joffrey. She’d told him it had been him who had attacked her.

“Shhh, the past is gone.” She cupped his face and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. He closed his eyes and exhaled.

His movements were still gentle as he finished undressing her. He was still wearing his sweater and jeans when his arms wrapped around her body. The feel of his clothes against her skin made her spine tingle.

“Come with me,” he murmured in her ear before pressing his lips to her temple. “I’ll make you feel good.”

He carried her to the bed and laid her down on the mattress. Kneeling down beside her, he took off his sweater. His scar was larger than hers. Without a word, she sat up and reached out to touch it. She gave him a reassuring smile when his eyes found hers.

“Mine,” she said and lowered her head to kiss his scar from his collarbone to his navel, her touch light. Her fingertips caressed his ribcage as her mouth traveled down that path, and she could feel him breathe in and out every time she pressed her lips to his skin.

“Mine,” she repeated and kissed his mouth, arching against him. No more holding back. No more fears.

“Sansa.” He exhaled against her mouth and pulled back. His hands moved to his belt and he began unbuckling it. His gaze was dark with lust.

She licked her lips.

Without a word, she sat up and pushed him down so he lay on his back.

He chuckled and moved his hands away from his belt. His erection was visible under his jeans.

“Such an eager girl.” He raised an eyebrow. “Now what do you plan to do next, sweetling?”

His voice sent a jolt through her core.

She straddled him.

“This.”

“I see.” His eyes shone. He placed his hands on her waist. “What else?”

“And this.” She rubbed against him and heard him curse under his breath. A mischievous smile played on her lips. She had Petyr Baelish at her mercy, and she was going to make the most of it.

The fabric of his jeans against her center and his erection, felt so good. Her eyes fluttered close.

“You know. I had never ridden a man,” she said.

His body vibrated when he laughed, intensifying her pleasure and catching her off guard. A moan escaped her and it sounded so needy that she blushed.

Petyr laughed again. His hands gripped her waist to stop her movements. Then, slowly, so slowly, he moved his hips up, and forward, tracing the line where she was soaking wet, and taking her breath away. Her body trembled and she was unable to speak.

Ah. Ah. Ah.

“This,” he whispered. “This is how you ride a man, sweetling.”

Heat spread throughout her body.

Petyr moved his hips down, breathing out. Sansa knew he would have a wet spot on his jeans when he took them off. She’d never been so turned on in her life. To his merit, he managed to remain quiet, but his face was contorted in pleasure. When he stopped, Sansa resisted the urge to ask him to do that again.

And again. And again.

He managed to offer her a devilish grin.

“I hope you’re enjoying the ride,” he panted.

Gods. This was the end, wasn’t it? Petyr was going to kill her.

“Go on,” he added. “You were so lovely as you rode me.”

Yes, definitely he planned to kill her.

She placed her hands on his chest and rubbed against him over and over again until she hit her peak.

“Petyr.” She breathed out, her eyes closed.

“Beautiful.” His hands moved up and down her waist. He was still hard.

And she was ready for more.

She moved away from him and lay on her back. Petyr didn’t waste any time. He removed his jeans and leaned over her. Her breath was still ragged, and she gasped when he claimed her mouth.

“Please,” she panted when he broke the kiss. “I need you.”

“Such a greedy girl.” He removed his boxers and pulled out a condom from the drawer. Tenderness flickered in his eyes when he looked at her again. “I cannot believe this is happening,” he confessed.

His words made her feel warm and cherished. She knew that he couldn’t remember their first time in their past life, when she’d cried at the thought that this would be the last time she would see him. Thankfully, she’d been wrong.

“This is real, Petyr.”

He smiled.

“I’ll be gentle,” he said. “We can stop at any moment.”

“I know. I trust you.”

He put on the condom and settled between her legs.

“My strong girl.” His breath tickled her face. “My sweetling. Tell me when you’re ready.”

“I am. The ride had helped a great deal.”

Petyr laughed upon hearing her, and the sound made her beam. The weight of his body above hers was familiar. Her mind recognized the feel of his skin, of his warmth, from her past life.

No more sad tears.

“I’ll make you feel good,” he said, and he lifted a hand to caress her cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” He rested his forearm back on the mattress. “How long I’ve had this picture in my mind. You, by my side. “He began entering her slowly.

She felt him stretching her, and the pressure was a bit uncomfortable, but she focused on her breath and his face. His gray-green eyes were staring into hers, giving off a sense of calm. She was where she was meant to be. She belonged here.

Her inner muscles clenched him when he finished entering her. He groaned.

“I love you more than anyone,” he said, his voice strained.

“Petyr.” His words, the tone he’d used and the way he was looking at her, made her feel a lump in her throat. “I love you.” She cupped his face and kissed him, and her inner muscles tightened around his cock again. She kissed him until her lungs hurt and she needed to catch her breath.

“More,” she whispered near his mouth.

He smiled.

“As my lady wishes.” He pulled out slightly and pushed in a few times, slowly, gauging her reaction. “Good?”

“Yes.”

Once her body relaxed, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and offered him a smile.

A mischievous expression crossed his lips, and he moved his hips a little faster.

His short thrusts were sending tingles throughout her body. It felt awesome. He kept that pace for a little while, and she knew that he was trying to help her get used to the feel of him. But suddenly, he stopped. Sansa furrowed her brow. He was still hard inside her.

“Why did you stop?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. Slowly, he pulled out almost all the way and pushed in again, and she cried out, arching her back.

“Still good?” he asked.

“Yes, oh, yes.”

His next thrusts, however, were shallow, similar to the first ones. The mischievous flicker was still in his eyes. Then, he changed the angle and pulled out unhurriedly, and Sansa placed her hands on his shoulders, her heart beating fast in anticipation.

He thrusted in harder than before, his smile widening, and the first wave washed over Sansa’s body.

“Oh.” Her hands moved down his back and she arched against him. “Petyr.”

“That’s it.” He barely pulled out before pushing in again, slowly, giving her time to catch her breath or perhaps making her be alert. He repeated the same motion several times before thrusting deeper and harder once more. “Tell me what you want and it will be yours.”

These changes were making her crave the bliss so hard.

“You. I want you. Please, please. More.”

“I’m yours. Now and ever.” His hand reached down to massage her clit. “Come for me, sweetling.” He tightened his jaw.

She could tell that he was very close and was trying not to come just yet.

“There. Oh. There.” She cried out when his touch sent her over the edge.

"Fuck."

His hips jerked and he was unable to keep alternating between long and shallow thrusts.

“Sansa.” He came shortly after her.

“I love you,” she said, her eyes still closed. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his head.

“I love you too.”

Nothing could separate them. In every life, they’d meet each other, one way or another. In every life, they’d fall in love. Over and over again.

And she wouldn’t want it any other way.