She could literally feel the oppressive silence around her, gripping at her dress, fighting to bring her to her knees. She was alone, but that was to be expected, as life had taught her the hard way. She couldn`t rely on anyone. Sometimes, not even on herself. Outside and inside of her, it was dark – not the heavy blackness of utter resignation, yet the ominous grey of shattered hopes struggling to be again, only to end up crushed by the fast and cynical waves of reality.
This time it was wrecking. Cutting deeper in the same old wounds that refused and weren`t allowed to heal. In the silence, she stumbled blindly upon deceit, betrayal, mocking laughter, and above all, games. Every sort of game – for the Iron Throne, for power, for life, even for love. She had never been particularly skilled at playing games, for she had always been the quiet, observing and emotional one, with wide-eyed dreams of a knight in shiny armor, a castle, a life of contempt and happiness, far from the maddening crowd, intrigues or spider-webbed plots.
Day after day, the irony was becoming too much to bear. She felt like tearing everybody apart with her bare hands, like screaming out loud how much she hated and despised them. It had always been her inner belief that she wouldn`t have to cope with the worst crime of them all – to have to be one of them. To actually succumb to the misery of sharing a name, a history, a 'home' with one of their own. She realized how naïve it had been on her side, but she had never dared look the truth in the face and deal with the fact – she had been promised to Joffrey, the mad, sadistic king, by her own pleas and by political plotting. But, as life turns page after page of careless writing, inconsiderate of our mere whishes or expectations, she was now married to another, bound to the same virulent family which now controlled her completely. Tyrion Lannister.
Lannister. Lannister. Lannister. The word echoed in her mind, hitting the walls of stone she had built all by herself in a desperate attempt to keep the torture of the court at bay. Tyrion`s name was immediately and indisputably linked to Cersei`s, vile, vicious and venomous as she was – she had once thought she could count on the queen to stand by her side and guide her. Now she knew better than that, for she had glimpsed behind the smiling waters on the surface to discern the peril laying in the depths. Had the fight for the throne made Cersei so bitter, so guarded, so merciless? Was she going to end up much the same way, dominated by a twisted desire to ruin other`s lives, seeking revenge for what had been done to her?
She hoped with all her might that the answer was 'no', for she couldn`t stand to become so. Then, she vowed to do whatever it took to keep hold of the ounces of humanity she possessed, to sacrifice herself if it came to that in order to still be herself.
She opened her eyes. Ubiquitous darkness. Everywhere – near her, in the cold bed, in the silent room, in the far, untouchable pieces of sky she could barely see out the window. 'It wasn't meant to be like this' she couldn`t help whispering, her breathing resigned and sad, knowing no one would listen to her. The night was her ally – in the silence of the night, her thoughts could scream out loud, as loud as they really were. For nobody could hear them, nobody could search her straight, impassible face for any sign of betraying emotions at the mention of her traitor family. No one was hunting her at night, of course apart from her own suffocating nightmares, drowning tears and muffled sobs in her pillow.
'Indeed, my lady, it wasn`t'.
She couldn`t suppress a defeated gasp. Now they were there, with her, even at night, trying to get into her head.
Even so, the voice was rich, reverberating in the deadly silence of their wedding night. She thought briefly that maybe he hadn`t been as drunk as he had led every guest attending the wedding to believe, not quite drunk enough to unconsciously threaten the king in his alcohol-induced stupor.
'Why did you do it, my lord?' She felt safer behind her ice-cold courtesy.
'Do what, my lady? I`m afraid my head is still heavier than usual, as you may well expect. Please excuse my train of thought`s slowness."
She knew very well his thoughts were anything but slow – his intelligence had always been apparent, even when he was jesting, throwing irony after irony both at others and himself, or when he was too lost in drinking to play the court`s games, but his brain still guarded his interests. Sansa could already understand that thinking was second nature for him – what else could he be doing in the thick darkness, after the vapors of alcohol and rejection had washed away?
"Threatened the king, my lord." After voicing her thought, she realized it was a stupid question. He would claim to have been so drunk that he couldn`t even remember anything from the previous evening – neither his jaw-dropping outburst in front of everyone that mattered at King`s Landing, nor the promise he had made her only a couple of hours ago. Of course, that was the simplest, most natural way out.
He too sighed.
'For a moment, I just couldn`t take it anymore, Sansa. What my animal of a nephew had been putting you through, what he still had in store for you, how he wanted to humiliate me further by forcing me to hurt you. I couldn`t stand their mocking faces. You see, Joffrey wanted to prove to them I am a monster, capable of anything with anyone, especially with the delicate being you are. So I stabbed the knife into the table and told him exactly what I was contemplating doing at the time. Nothing too shocking, I suppose?'
Sansa was taken aback by his unexpectedly sincere and open speech, almost as much as by the one he had delivered at the wedding. He was willing to admit that his family`s attitude towards him bothered him much more than he normally cared to show. And surprisingly, he also appeared to give a damn about their behavior concerning her. Of course, it could all be a charade, but she had to grant him that he had never tried to play her before. That was, up until then. There was still a long way to go and the future did look bleak.
'Forgive my forwardness, my lord, but you really must have been affected by the wine if what you said to his Majesty didn`t seem to you too shocking.'
'Believe me, my lady, I do remember what my words were. I`m just terribly sorry for two things – one, for drawing even more attention to you and your unfortunate circumstances and secondly, for being too angry to properly watch the bastard`s face as he took it all in. It must have been quite a sight.'
'My lord, I am afraid you are wrong, for my circumstances are not at all unfortunate.' What else could she say? She couldn`t comment on the king`s dumbstruck face when talking to a Lannister. She couldn`t even agree to his reference to her entrapment in the court, with a fate that looked discouraging to say the least.'
'Yes, I have almost forgotten how the next words will sound. Probably, how wonderful it is for you to be here, at King`s Landing, benefitting from the generous guidance and protection of the Lannister family. Please, Sansa, spare me this. The words are as clumsy and inadequate in my mouth as they are in yours, for they are gross lies. I know I confessed to you that my train of thought was slowing down tonight, but I`m not a complete idiot. I`ve been watching you from afar for a long time, thus I`m doubly aware of how much you`ve been through, how much harm has been done to you by those whose blood I share. Be it Cersei, or Joffrey, or my father, or even me, we have all wronged you and I would be a liar and a fool to promise you that it will never happen again. However, it is entirely another kind of torture to have to pretend that you respect and highly regard those who have inflicted these would upon you, while denigrating your own family.'
'My lord, I…'
'Please, let me finish. This is one burden I hope to lift off your shoulders, if you`ll allow me. Believe, I`m perfectly conscious I`m far from the hero you must have been dreaming of all your childhood, both in physical appearance and in the deed`s I`ve committed. Even so, I genuinely want to ease your life, as long as it is in my power to do so.'
Sansa had to admit, she was moved. She knew it could very well be another trap, a sick joke of the Lannisters, out to get her once again. Yet, his words seemed permeated with sincerity, a kind of power Cersei`s had never had over her. She was not going to let her guard down completely, it would be utter madness to do so in the Game of Thrones, but she wouldn`t feed him such blatant lies anymore. Perhaps he too had grown tired of the string of lies their lives solely consisted on, perhaps he too could discern the falsity and superficiality of the court, even though he was much better at dealing with it than her.
'Thank you, my lord.' The words were ordinary, customary ones, but the tone of her voice was slightly changed, warmer, a little more childish than before. He smiled softly into the darkness, thinking that perhaps they were signing some sort of darkness-induced alliance against the court and the wrong that had been done to them.
'Go to sleep, my lady.'
'Goodnight, my lord'.
Perhaps there was still hope.
Hello there! I`m new in this fandom. This is my first Game of Thrones fanfiction. Tyrion and Sansa are my favorite couple out there, because, even though there are factors like the age difference and their rival, blood-thirsty families, they could get on well and rely on each other.
I hope I`ll be able to update soon and properly develop their relationship.
Reviews really are appreciated, so let me know what you think.
Until next time!