Game of thrones: The Lustful sellsword

I had spent weeks learning about Sansa Stark—her likes, her dislikes, her habits, her fantasies.

Now, it was time to make my move.

It had to be perfect.

A single wrong step, and she would dismiss me as just another common soldier, beneath her notice. A simple guard was not the type of man a noble lady fantasized about.

But a warrior with honor, grace, and mystery? A man who could fit the songs and stories she so adored?

That was someone she might fall for.

So, I set the stage.

The Perfect Opportunity

Sansa had a habit—every afternoon, she and her handmaidens walked through the godswood, enjoying the peace of the ancient weirwood tree.

✔ Jeyne Poole accompanied her, ever the gossip.

✔ Beth Cassel walked alongside, more reserved but ever loyal.

It was always the same routine.

And I intended to weave myself into it.

That afternoon, I took a different path during my break from training, one that just so happened to cross near the godswood entrance.

I held a leather-bound book in hand, one I had carefully selected from Winterfell's library—"The Songs of Ser Galladon," a collection of old tales about noble knights and their chivalrous deeds.

I let my timing be precise.

I wanted it to seem like fate, not design.

The First Meeting

I rounded the bend just as Sansa and her friends entered the godswood.

The moment she saw me, she slowed just slightly, her blue eyes flicking toward the book in my hand.

Exactly as I wanted.

A knightly tale. A book of heroism, romance, and chivalry.

I pretended not to notice her at first, flipping the pages, as if completely engrossed in the story.

It was Jeyne Poole who spoke first, her voice carrying excitement.

"Oh! That book! Sansa, isn't that the one you love?"

I glanced up, feigning mild surprise, as if I had only just realized they were there.

Sansa's eyes brightened slightly as she looked at the cover. "It is."

Her voice was soft, controlled, elegant.

I tilted my head, allowing a small, interested smile. "You've read it?"

She nodded, stepping forward slightly, drawn in despite herself.

"Many times. It's one of the best collections of knightly tales. Ser Galladon of Morne was the finest knight in history."

I chuckled, turning a page. "Was he? Some say Ser Barristan Selmy surpasses him in skill."

Sansa's lips pursed slightly, not in offense, but in thought. "Ser Barristan is great, but Ser Galladon was noble beyond measure. He refused to use his enchanted sword in battle because he believed in winning with skill alone."

I let admiration touch my expression, as if her words intrigued me.

"A rare kind of man," I mused. "Honorable, selfless. A knight worth remembering."

Sansa's posture relaxed slightly, as if pleased by my agreement.

Beth Cassel, who had been silent, finally spoke. "You don't seem like a man who reads stories of knights."

I turned to her, offering a light shrug. "A sellsword knows many kinds of men. I've fought alongside those who claimed to be noble, only to betray their vows at the first sight of gold."

Then, I let my gaze settle back on Sansa.

"A knight like Ser Galladon is rare. But the world would be better if men like him truly existed."

Her lips parted slightly, as if she had never heard such words from a common soldier before.

Jeyne giggled, nudging her. "Maybe you've found your own gallant knight, Sansa."

Sansa's cheeks flushed pink.

She quickly turned away, trying to hide it.

Beth gave me an assessing look, as if trying to figure me out.

And Sansa?

She didn't say anything else.

She simply continued walking, moving along as if I had been nothing more than a passing breeze.

But I saw it.

The slight hesitation before she left. The faint lingering of curiosity in her eyes.

It wasn't much.

But it was a start.

A Stirring Desire

I stayed in the godswood for a while, pretending to read.

But in truth, my mind wasn't on the book anymore.

It was on her.

Her auburn hair, the way it shone like fire in the sunlight.

Her delicate, noble features, untouched by hardship.

Her soft, blue eyes, filled with innocence and longing for a fairytale.

She was beautiful. Far more beautiful than I had expected.

And suddenly, a different memory crept into my mind.

Ros.

I thought of her fiery red hair, her body tangled with mine, the scent of her skin lingering even after I had left.

A smirk curled at my lips.

I had been too focused on my goals. Too patient.

Perhaps it was time to pay Ros another visit.

After all, a man had needs.

And while Sansa was my ultimate prize, there was no harm in indulging along the way.