Chapter Text
The summer past in a series of early mornings, and late nights, with flurries of activity in between. As much for her own sake as Robb"s, Alayne kept them as busy as humanly possible, constantly on the move, never in one place for longer then needed.. She took them to farmers markets in town, camping trips to the back country, berry picking in the lush hills on the other side of their lake. There was certainly no lack of things to do in the Kootenay"s, and before she knew it, the days began to grow shorter, and in just one week her baby boy would start school.
That was another worry, set to gnawing at the edges of her brain when she should be asleep. Shutting the taps off, Alayne untied her robe and let it puddle at her feet, soaking in the silence and steam for a moment, before slipping into her sea of bubbles. It was not often she afforded herself luxuries such as me time, and when the opportunity for a snatch of quiet arose, who was there to deny her? But school.. sighing softly, Alayne brought the hot cloth to rest over her tired eyes and considered their options. Registering him for kindergarten under Stark or Baelish was obviously out of the question, Petyr would descend upon them as soon as the boys name was entered into the system. If they were to home school Robby, he would still need to be registered, and if they managed to put registration off, it was only a matter of time before people started questioning why. The only way out of this, as far as Alayne could see, was to pack up and go somewhere no one knew the pair, in order to give her son a new identity.
Arya was against the whole thing, stating that if Petyr was to find them, they would simply call up a favor with someone still loyal to the Stark family, and have him removed from their lives. That was her sisters solution to most things, but Alayne feared their list of trusted friends was short, and who could they really trust? Her husband"s reach was far, containing a host of Police, lawyers and other such officials and not all of them his friends. Some had been obtained through blackmail and favors owed to help they received from him, she knew.
Peeling the now cold cloth from her face , Alayne brought her soapy hands up from the water and reached for her glass of wine, a red vintage from Italy, so dark it glowed almost black against the candlelight. The same wine she sipped with Petyr, the first time she had been truly alone with him, seated on the soft velvet loveseat in his home office. Sinking back into the tub, Alayne allowed the memory to push through. Sometimes it was nice to remember the feeling that filled her whenever they interacted, then again sometimes it was torture.
~~Flashback~~
Inky black clouds swirled abover her, accompanied by the low rumble of thunder and Sansa inwardly groaned, pulling up the hood of the jacket to cover her ruby curls. Just her luck, to be caught in the rain so far from her destination, and without an umbrella. Arya should have just said yes when father asked her to bring this folder to Petyr Baelish, but instead she had made up some lame excuse and ran out the door, earbuds in place as to be deaf to the shouts of their sire. Sometimes the older girl swore that more then three years seperated the siblings, with Sansa being 16 and Arya 13. With no one else home, it was up to Sansa to run the errand, Neds leg being splinted and bandaged from some mystery accident. She was reluctant to go inside Petyr"s house alone, afraid of those eyes and what they did to her.Feelings of warmth and a curiosity about the older man that she was unable to share with anyone else, especially her family.
A tall man, white haired and caramel skinned answered the door dressed in a classic butlers uniform and Sansa stiffled a giggle. She had never truly seen such before, now adays either a maid or the occupants of these castle like homes answered the doors. He peered down at her, a small smile playing on his thin lips. "Can I help you, young miss?" Pulling the manilla folder out of her jacket, she placed it in the mans waiting hand. "My father, Eddard Stark, sent this for Mr.Baelish. He said its to go straight to Pe-Mr.Baelish." The butler smiled in amusement and handed the papers back to the puzzled girl, stepping aside and waving her forward. "By all means, then you must make sure it gets there." His accent was flavored with something she couldn"t place, cajun perhaps, and his words were gentle, teasing. Cheeks burning, Sansa placed her foot over the threshold, and stepped into a marble foyer. Compared to the stormy outside, the soft golden light of the chandelier seemed very inviting, and she found herself smiling and shrugging off her jacket, laying it over her arm. The black cashmere knee length dress she wore went well with her ankle high black boots, and Sansa was grateful her hair wasn"t a sopping mess. Catching a glimpse of herself in a gilded mirror, she was startled by how much older she looked. Suddenly nervous, and unsure of herself, she turned to the quietly waiting servant, and motioned at him to carry on.
Petyr Baelish had a dark, rich taste in decore, and as such, had filled his home with hunter greens, navy blues and burgundy. Velvets and brocades covered the windows and furniture, the floor under her feet polished to a honey colour. Large portraits of what had to have been ancestors lined the hall they now walked, staring down at her through stern grey-green eyes. Twisted brass candle holders spaced the frames, and one plain maple door sat at the end of the walkway. Stopping behind her guide, Sansa fiddled with her hair, heart fluttering with nerves. Why was she so jumpy? Was he not just a family friend?
He was seated behind a deep red desk that seemed to take up half the room, piled with papers and a laptop. Petyr raised his head at the intrusion and green eyes widened in suprise, as he drank in Sansa"s appearance. Her cheeks were a soft pink and he swallowed. What in the world had brought her to his office at nine at night? Smiling to hide his confusion, and delight, Petyr came around his desk and beckoned her to enter. "What do I owe this pleasure to, my dear?" His voice was low, brow raised, satisfaction playing in his eyes as they were left alone, and Sansa momentarily forget her reason for standing before him. He wore a plain black silk shirt, top few buttons undone to reveal a trace of dark chest hair, black dress pants, hair orderly. A god stood before her, and realizing she was staring, shot her eyes up to meet his amused ones. "Would it have something to do with what your holding?" His voice held a teasing note, and to his utter amazment her skin went from pink to a red so bright he thought she was like to faint.
Shoving the envelope into his unready hands, Sansa spun and made to open the door, but Petyr grabbed her wrist and gently turned her around to face him. "Im sorry little one, I should not make fun. Come sit, and talk for a moment. I might have to call Martin to drive you home, its starting to rain." There was a trace of amusement lingering in his eyes, but his tone was gentle, and she allowed herself to be drawn to the small couch by the fire. The place where his fingers lightly held her wrist still tingled and her breathe seemed thin. Heart pounding, Sansa met his gaze next to hers and smiled tentively, turning slightly to face him. "There was a message with the papers my father sent. "Bring them in."" She watched his expression to see if he would react but his eyes remained blank and he nodded, standing. Whatever her father had meant by that small statement escaped Sansa, she had pondered its meaning the entire walk here.
When Petyr sat again, there was a foot of space seperating their bodies, and he pressed a stem of glass into her hand, no more then a splash of wine in the bottom, his own half full. Atleast he wasn"t trying to get her drunk. "Your mother says you graduate next year and are off to Europe to study Latin and literature. Thats quite the adventure hmm?" His soft voice sent warmth coursing through her blood and she took a slow sip of the heady, dark liquid before answering, never breaking eye contact. The wine made her bold, daring her to play the role of woman. Sansa smiled softly, leaning in to brush Petyr"s shoulder lightly with hers, and whisper. "Don"t tell her, but Im very excited to go. I think I"ve outgrown this small town..and the people in it." His laugh was a pleasurable thing, a low rumble from his chest. "I might have to agree with you there Sansa, this town was not made for the likes of you. Europe will benefit from your presence. " His gaze trailed lazily from her eyes, down to her breasts and continued, lingering on the slender legs crossed infront.
She shivered and his eyes returned to her face, the look of amusement returning. "We should get you home, little one. Surely it"s nearing bedtime. " His words were like cold water, once again reminding her of the difference in age. Face flaming, she stood and stammered a thank you for the wine. Why did she ever think she could play this game?
In the end, Petyr escorted her to his garage, politely helping her into the back of the Rolls Royce and bidding her a goodnight. Sansa could not meet his eyes, mumbled a farewell and pretended to fix her seatbelt. When the door shut, she could have sworn she heard a chuckle.
~~~~~~
Th water had grown cold by the time Alayne opened her eyes, returning to her body. Yanking the drain with anger, she shoved on her robe, still dripping and threw herself down in bed. What a foolish girl she had been, to believe it was her Petyr wanted, that she wasn"t just a peice of his secret plans. In the morning, she would make sure to tell Robb about the move. She had the perfect place in mind.