Disclaimer: I am not George R R Martin, and nor do I own any of his characters.

A/N: I haven't read the books so this will be solely based off the TV series. I've never written a GoT fanfic before because the show is so elaborate and I don't feel I know any one character or their back story well enough to do it justice. This is sort of a prelude to what I want to write, what I wished had happened in episode 10. I've also never written anything with an accent or in a dialect from another Era. So, please bear with me and cut me some slack when this American butchers up the dialogue. Let me know if y'all like this and if I should continue it seriously or not.

As Sansa listened to Petyr describe what he truly wanted, to be on the Iron Throne with her by his side, she couldn't help but notice the air of truth on his voice. The years since first leaving Winterfell had taught her many things. Picking out a lie off Petyr Baelish's tongue was one of them. She could hear nothing but unadulterated truth. Though she couldn't deny that she had once wanted to be Queen in Kings Landing, she could no longer say that was still her hearts desire. As he neared the end of his speech he stepped towards her, making his next move quite obvious.

Since marrying her off to Ramsay she no longer trusted him and his motives where she was concerned. However, as he leaned in to kiss her she found her self wondering how she'd feel the moment his lips touched hers. Would it be the same as it was in the Eyrie? Exciting, nerve wracking, and full of promise? Or would she find it lacking, no longer satisfying. She pushed her initial reaction to stop him in his tracks aside and let him kiss her.

It started off timid, him being unsure of her reaction. Slowly, she found herself succumbing to him, to his lips. She leaned her head towards his a fraction and he took that invitation and ran with it. His hands skimmed up her arms towards her face and settled one hand on each side of her head, cradling her jaw. Without her knowledge her hands reached up and rested on his chest. She sighed as one of his hands left her face, traveled to the small of her back, and pulled her in tight to his body. Slowly, he backed her up until her back was against the Godswood, using its hard surface to help bring her body even closer to his.

She found herself kissing him with a fervor she had never before experienced. Never with Ramsay were their kisses ever passionate or pleasurable, and any before him were chaste, and lacking of urgency or desire. In a sense you could say this was her first real kiss. She found it intoxicating.

After a time, Petyr slowly ended the kiss. Pulling away, the both of them breathing heavily, and resting his forehead against hers. Sansa trembled as she let out an uneasy breath. That hadn't gone exactly how she had wanted it to. She'd been curious, yes, and she had wanted to see how it felt, but she hadn't expected it to get carried away as it had. She slowly grew uneasy, unsure of what her next step would be.

As their breathing calmed Petyr looked into her eyes, his head mere inches from hers. She could still feel his breath on her lips as he said her name "Sansa". Searching her eyes desperately, he sought out any clues as to her state of mind. He found nervousness, desire, and confusion there in her stare. He removed his hand from her face and traced a line with his thumb across her cheek, and down over her bottom lip, lingering there for a moment. His eyes followed his thumb and she saw the awe in his eyes. He looked up into her eyes once more then took a step back, giving her space to straighten herself from her position against the great tree.

Not wanting to press his luck, he said to her "I shall take my leave now, but I'll be finding you again. Soon." All she could do was stand there, watching him go, confused and bewildered by her body's reaction to his touch, his kiss. She thought she knew exactly where he stood with her, exactly what she wanted from him. But that was simply not the case. Everything she thought she knew about her feelings towards Petyr Baelish was a lie.