Alayne’s Journal - Entry 1

I don’t want to think these thoughts. Perhaps if I make myself write them down, they’ll go. Like a cleansing. And if not? Then perhaps it will be a bit like talking to someone.
Petyr. His smile … he really is a very handsome man. Not a big man like… *No, I will not think of him* … His kisses, I didn’t want to enjoy them. The bath, Petyr holding me, the way my body responded to him. Its all so confusing …
Last night he gave me a necklace, and I forgot myself. Or did I? *Could I really want his attentions?* Sitting by the fire, he asked … and I gave him my permission. My bodice open, his mouth on me … gods, I wanted it then. But now? In the cold light of day?
I must make myself truly think about this. *You must be honest with yourself Alayne, if even you lie to yourself, then there really is no truth left in the world.*He wants me to love him. I asked him if he wanted this and he said yes, he wanted me to be utterly and completely his. But when I asked him if he would love me, truly love me, he became frustrated. He tires of waiting. There is a game to be played and we are all figures on a chessboard. I fear I’ll never know if he really loves me. But he will act the part, I know. Is that enough? To give him my love, never truly knowing if I’m just a player in a charade?
I can love, I know. I have loved. I suspect I might love him a little already. And yet here too, I am confused. I want him. I know this is the honest truth. Want his arms around me, want his warmth, his comfort. I feel so alone in the world. And this man … he shows me affection. Takes care of me. He saved me when no one else did. After the Hound left me …
DON’T think of him!
 I’m afraid to think of the Hound.
 Sandor. He’s often in my mind, trying to push into my thoughts. *Always.* He never really leaves, he’s there, hovering in the shadows. Haunting me. *Where are you? Why did you leave me?* After Petyr had gone to bed, I sat by the fire for a while, feeling empty and alone. I finally did as I always do now when my loneliness becomes unbearable. I went to my bedchamber and locked the door. I removed from the bottom of my trunk, a stained white cloak. It’s yellowing now, but it still smells like him. I wrapped it around myself and fell asleep on top of the covers, pretending it was his arms around me, holding me … keeping me safe. 
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