So here it is, the last chapter of Broken Chains. I massive thank you to everyone whose read, reviewed and added this to their favourites, I love you all! :-) As you've probably noticed I've turned this into a series called Wolves And Mockingbirds so there will be more Petyr/Sansa soon. I've finished with the plot ideas so In a few weeks when I've got a stockpile of chapters written I'll start posting on a weekly basis for you all.
Again, a massive thank you to you all and I hope you enjoy.

XXXX

Sansa straddled the man she loved, hands rested on his charcoal suit clad shoulders while he had his tattooed arm around her waist and the other supporting them on their bed; lips locked in heated kissing. She tasted so perfect to him, her skin was soft and supple. Her belly had grown round now had started to show properly; their child had first kicked while they slept and it had woken Petyr before Sansa. He loved her so much and enjoyed every single second he got to touch her., all that beautiful innocence hiding the dark cunning they shared.

"I love you, Master." She told him between kisses.

Sansa only called him Master when they were in bed together now, Petyr wasn't certain when that had started but he found that it just gave the title even more meaning, that and hearing her voice say his real name was better than all the power in the world.

Suddenly as he made to slowly flip Sansa onto her back the doorbell rang.

"Ignore it." Petyr commanded before going to press open-mouthed kisses down her smooth neck.

The bell continued to chime though, sometimes in a rhythm, sometimes sharp and desperate. Whoever was at the door showed no sign of leaving unfortunately.

"That's it!" Petyr shot up from the bed and grabbed his gun from the night stand. "I don't care who it is but I'm killing them."

Petyr didn't usually lose his temper but people coming between him and his beloved certainly got him there. He marched out the room leaving Sansa to straighten her teal dress and follow, thankfully Tristan slept meaning Petyr wouldn't be moving a dead body around in front of their son; when did I get so used to death? The doorbell sounded as though it were going to soon die a painfully horrible death as they descended the winding staircase, forcefully Petyr pulled open the door only to find Cersei Lannister staring back at him, gun aimed at his head.

Shit!

There was a brief pause where Petyr wore an expression similar to that of an Animé character in shock, had Cersei not been stood there with a Beretta trained at her soon to be husbands head Sansa would have found it comical.

Cersei's hair was everywhere – a real mess that went far beyond flyaways – and an ill-fitting dress was all that coated her rather than her the usual Prada. Her nails had chipped and lacked polish, black circles ran rampant around her eyes and her sin had lost its gentle tan despite having spent so long in Dorne. Petyr raised an eyebrow of confusion at the vagrant before him rather than fear but still he shifted slightly to block Sansa from her; the redhead's hands automatically went to her baby bump guarding their unborn child.

"Good morning." He said in that deadpan dominant tone of his. If she's escaped why wasn't I informed? Why the fuck do I pay these people?

There was a fire in her eyes making Cersei really look like a lioness. She continued to twitch as though still drugged or maybe she'd actually lost her mind, Petyr could only hope so.

"You think you can take everything from me!?" She screamed, gun flapping in his face with a complete lack of skill. "Think you can just-"

Petyr didn't have time for Cersei's drugged up crap and simply pistol whipped her ending her rant; she was clearly manic and sleep deprived so it was easy for him to strike before Cersei even knew he had moved, all she knew was that she'd crashed to the gravel floor; head throbbing and gun knocked away. It had surprised him a little that she remained conscious but didn't think much about it and instead simply axe kicked her into slumber.

"Sansa, I'm getting too old for this shit." He sighed.

"Nonsense, and would you please get rid of her before she wakes Tristan or someone sees her?"

Petyr hadn't killed anyone since Ramsay Bolton and that was months ago, their life had started to grow into something that could have been deemed normal but Cersei had brought it all back in seconds. The woman meant nothing to Sansa though, not after everything that had happened; Cersei didn't deserve any care or a simple kindness. Cersei Lannister wasn't a person, she was a rabid lioness that needed putting down.

"Of course, Sweetling. Start dinner for me would you please?" He looked up the sky where he found the sun hinting that it would soon go to bed. "I should be back by the time it's finished."

Sansa nodded and kissed him before watching him roughly sling Cersei over his shoulder and toss her into the DB5'S trunk.

XXXX

Cersei awoke cold and in darkness hours later, she was naked and had her hands cuffed behind her back. Looking around the darkness she found herself sat in the middle of a glade; this wasn't good. Her left ankle strung and throbbed, when sheloked down she saw how swollen it had becom; clearly broken preventing her from running.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up." Petyr appeared from the shadows and crouched down before her. "I started to worry I'd hit you a little too hard."

"Fuck you, Baelish!" She screeched.

"Always so feisty." He grinned as though it were all a joke, a game; knowing Petyr it probably was. "What was your ill thought out plan, huh Cersei?" His gun hung loosely between his legs where he'd crouched. "Was it to yell insults and then shoot me? To kill Sansa and my children then force Jaime to retake Lion and Stag until you figured out how to take over yourself?" Actually that was exactly her plan. "I bet it was, Cersei. You see, you're smart, very smart, but you act before you've figured out all the possibilities, you're trigger happy. That is why none of your little plots ever turn out like you intended while mine always do."

"You and that whore killed Joffrey! You did all this!"

He grinned again, devilish green-grey eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

"I wondered when you'd figure that out. As I said you're a smart one, terrible on execution but smart."

"You won't kill me! People know I'm here!" That actually made Petyr laugh.

"Don't lie to me, it insults my intelligence. No one knows you're here because no one would have freely let you leave the hospital and come here with a gun – by the way a Beretta 92FS is too heavy for you to aim accurately with – and you're too arrogant to have told anyone your great genius plan." The sarcasm just dripped from his voice. "Cersei, you crave power even more than I do, you wish to rule everything rather than be a CEO, Queen Cersei. Lannisters make plans in search of revenge for fallen family, I however, will kill you before you even get close to hurting mine, that's what separates you and I. Lannisters seek revenge for what they've lost instead of protecting what they already have. I'll never let you threaten my power or Sansa and my children but I'll let you be Queen. You can be Queen of all this." Petyr spread his arms wide gesturing to the dell that surrounded them. "I own this land – well, via several proxies and even more assumed names – but I'm gifting it all to you, congratulations." If sarcasm and smugness were blades Petyr would have flayed Cersei by now. "The first body I disposed of is here, decomposing. Buried deep, deep down though what with the wolves. This place is called Dwellers Hollow, macabre and just screaming death, isn't it? All the winding trees and constant fog." Only then did she realise just how dark and supernatural the place was, before it had just been a dark glade but now she saw the sharp rocks stacked up with caves hidden away, the mist and eerie trees; Cersei wouldn't be afraid though. "I like it here, it's almost mythical as though dragons will suddenly fly overhead. You want to be Queen, well you can be Queen of this and remain forever, eternally. Scatter you so you can see all the land at once."

"Scatter?" She questioned.

"Oh, does that finally spark some fear? You remember the wolves I mentioned? They'll rip you apart until all that remains is nibbled marrow remains. I think wolves are fitting, you took everything from Sansa and now the wolves will do the same to you; wolves are my girl personified. You want to know the best bit?" Petyr leaned in close. "Not even Jaime will care that you're gone, not for long anyway. Tommen and Mrycella might even be relieved."

"Bastard! You won't get away with this! You won't!" Cersei screamed uncontrollably.

Petyr's eyes squinted with genuine puzzlement and his head tilted to one side.

"Why wouldn't I? I've been successfully disposing of bodies for two and a half decades, do you really think you're any different to any of them? No, you're not special, never have been and certainly never will be." Petyr rose to his full height and checked he had one in the chamber. "Goodbye Cersei, I'd say I'm sorry but I'm really not. Who knows, maybe you'll see Joffrey in hell"

Everything in Cersei told her to launch to her feet and run but her body refused to cooperate thanks to the pain in her ankle, along with the mass of drugs still in her system – she'd pretty much slept all the way though her trip from Dorne – and maybe her physical form had given up too, her brain just hadn't gotten the memo. It didn't really matter, Petyr didn't care and Cersei didn't have long enough to figure it out, With eyes locked Petyr fired. Cersei Lannister was no more. Petyr stood there silently for a time before he sighed and slipped his Colt Gold Cup into its holster

"Shame there aren't actually any wolves this far south." Yet another sigh. "Well, let's tip you into the grave so I can go home and eat with Sansa. Didn't dig six feet for nothing."

In the end Cersei did get a kingdom to rule over, however, it was two foot wide and six foot deep.

XXXX

Just over five months had gone by since Petyr had become CEO of Lion and Stag, six days over to be exact – not that Petyr had been counting how many days over due Sansa was. However, in the early hours of that morning she woke him by slapping him in his sleeping face, the bed was been wet and Lady had gone into full guard mode. It took him a few seconds to realise she was in labour, he'd not been expecting the child to be born then but Baelishs were nothing if not unpredictable. He dressed in a heartbeat and carried her down to the car before going back for Tristan. Lady tried her best to follow – going so far as to growl at Petyr – but unfortunately for her there were no dogs allowed on a maternity ward. By the time they returned Lady probably would have destroyed the front door with scratches.

Sansa hadn't registered much of what was happening as Petyr drove towards the hospital, just the timetable bursts of agony that thundered through her body; there was one thing she notice though and that was that Petyr looked more afraid than she did. He occasionally muttered something, probably comforts and words of reassurance but Sansa didn't know for sure. Her contractions were the worst pain she'd ever felt and that was saying something for her. Fear, panic and so many other emotions clouded her mind but the second Petyr gripped her hand she knew everything would be alright.

The next eight hours had been utter agony for Sansa despite the pain relief given to her by nurses, she'd almost broken Petyr's hand by gripping onto it so tightly but he didn't complain. He'd refused to leave her either and a nurse had been kind enough to take Tristan to the daycare once it had opened, Petyr hadn't liked the idea of a group of strangers near his son – yes, he'd finally grown accustom to that word – but Sansa needed him there, she was his priority; her and their child.

Sansa knew it wasn't Petyr's fault she was in such pain – he had left the choice to have their child completely up to her, though there was no denying he'd been pleased when she said they were keeping it – but that didn't stop her wanting to yell at him. Can't blame Master for the baby.

The baby, had been what they'd been calling their child as for the duration of her pregnancy, Sansa hadn't wanted to know the baby's gender and Petyr had allowed it despite Sansa being well aware he wanted to know. He'd already chosen Ezra for a boy even though Sansa liked Robb, after her brother. Olyvar had kept saying his name was great for a kid but both parents had ignored him.

Her mind faded out again when the doctor told her to push and that was exactly what Sansa did, she blocked out all the pain she felt, all the fear, and focused on Petyr right beside her, on the love she already felt for her child.

"It's a girl!" The doctor called out.

They'd not chosen any girl name, couldn't ever agree, and from all the kickboxer style kicking they'd assumed they were having another boy. A little brother for Tristan. Sansa collapsed against the bed sweating and panting for air, wet bits of fire-red hair sticking to her forehead while nurses cleaned off the baby, their daughter; that's going to take some getting used to she thought.

When their daughter was clean, wrapped in a little white blanket and the doctor had finished with Sansa the nurse tried to hand the baby over but Sansa shook her head and nodded to Petyr indicating him first. She was exhausted and just wanted sleep but at the same time she was wired and wanted to see her daughter. That tiny little life being handed to Petyr was part of them both, wisps of red hair and no doubt stormy green-grey eyes, her nose and his lips.

"I'll have one of our orderlies go and get your son." Said the greying nurse before leaving them alone.

Petyr was dead silent while Sansa continued to pant, only when she realised just how silent he was did she manage to open her eyes and look at him. At first she thought something was wrong but then it dawned on her sleepy mind.

"Are you... crying?" His eyes were locked on their daughter and tears did indeed slowly drip from his eyes. "Petyr?"

"She's perfect." He whispered without looking up.

Sansa wasn't stupid she knew he'd finally realised what she'd known all along, there was something more important than power. Cat was right he thought. There was a soft smile on his lips, on e that really did meet his eyes. Normally Petyr hid his emotions deep inside where no one could use them against him, but seeing his daughter he'd not only showed his cards but dropped the whole deck.

"... I think I know what we should name her." Sansa shuffled closer awkwardly, eager to hear the name he'd chosen. "Do you remember when I came home to find you drawing for the first time?" Sansa nodded, he didn't see it though Petyr was too busy staring at their child. "That was the first time you felt free and safe enough to do something you wanted, something that made you happy. Do you remember what you were drawing?"

"Yes." Sansa's smile grew as she peered at her daughter. "I think it suits her."

Petyr pressed a kiss to their daughter's little forehead and Sansa felt her heart soar.

"Hello, Poppy."

THE END