Game of thrones: The Lustful sellsword

Sansa's Growing Fascination

Sansa Stark was distracted.

She would never admit it, not even to herself, but her mind refused to let go of the previous night's encounter.

Damon Waters.

The name had always been one she barely noticed.

A man of no house. A sellsword-turned-guardsman. Someone beneath her notice.

And yet…

The way he had looked at her in the godswood—the confidence, the quiet mystery, the way his words had left her breathless.

He hadn't begged for her attention, hadn't fawned over her like some courtly boy seeking favor.

No, he had been controlled. Subtle.

And it unnerved her.

More than that, it intrigued her.

The Change in Her Thoughts

Sansa had always dreamed of knights.

Men of honor and chivalry, gallant warriors who would sweep her off her feet and declare their love.

Damon Waters was not a knight.

He was something else.

He was a mystery.

And that, more than anything, fascinated her.

She caught herself thinking about him more often.

✔ When she walked through the castle, her eyes flickered toward the guards, wondering if she would see him.

✔ During meals, when Robb and Jon spoke of training, she listened carefully, hoping to hear his name.

✔ At night, when she lay in bed, she thought of the way he had stepped so close, the way his voice had dipped into something almost… intimate.

And worst of all—

She wore the hairpin every day.

Beth Cassel had noticed.

"You wear that thing more than any of your jewelry," she teased. "Who gave it to you?"

Sansa had brushed it off.

"A gift," she said, keeping her voice light. "From a friend."

Beth laughed.

"A friend or an admirer?"

Sansa hadn't answered.

Because she didn't know.

And that made it worse.

Damon's Influence Expands – The Shaping of Ros

While Sansa struggled with unfamiliar feelings, Ros was already caught in my web.

She was changing.

The moment our last conversation ended, I knew I had broken something inside her.

A barrier. A defense she had kept up her entire life, telling herself she was nothing more than a whore, that she had no other path.

But now?

Now she doubted.

Now, when she looked at me, I saw hesitation.

A silent question in her eyes.

Would she leave her old life behind?

Would she give herself to me, fully and completely?

She didn't know it yet, but the answer was already decided.

Guiding Her Into My Control

I visited her again that night.

This time, I did not take her to bed.

Instead, I poured us two cups of wine, sitting across from her, watching her carefully.

She looked at me, almost uncertain. "Why are you here?"

I took a slow sip, letting the silence stretch.

Then, I said, "Because I want to know your answer."

She swallowed, looking down at the cup in her hands.

"You want me to stop working here," she murmured.

"Yes."

She let out a small breath. "And what would I do instead?"

I smirked.

"You'll serve me."

Her eyes flickered up, searching my face.

"Not as a whore," I clarified. "As something more."

I leaned forward, letting my fingers trail along her wrist.

"You are clever, Ros," I murmured. "You listen. You see things others don't. You understand men."

I watched her shiver slightly at my touch, her breath hitching.

I wasn't seducing her.

Not the way I had before.

I was dominating her.

Taking her mind, her thoughts, her loyalty.

"You could be more than this," I said softly. "You could be my eyes. My ears. My hands, when I need them."

She swallowed, the realization sinking in.

"You want me to spy for you."

I smiled. "Among other things."

Her Final Choice

Ros was silent for a long moment.

I let her think.

I let her feel the weight of the decision.

Then, finally, she exhaled.

Her green eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw something else in them.

Not defiance.

Not playful teasing.

But acceptance.

And submission.

She set her cup down, tilting her head slightly. "And in return?"

I smirked, reaching forward, running my fingers through her fiery red hair.

"In return," I murmured, "you belong to me."

Her lips parted, her breath shallow.

Then, finally, she nodded.

And with that—another piece fell into place.