So I'm an admitted SanRion shipper, so this story will be centralized on their relationship when he arrives in Winterfell with Dany and Jon. I'm kind of letting it take a life of its own while trying to stay true to the characters as we see them on the show with some book elements (where possible since we obviously don't have these books yet - COME ON GRRM). This will likely be pretty fluffy because I just love these two characters so much, but who knows what could happen? Comments are always appreciated! Happy reading :)

TYRION

He can't say that he wasn't anxious about their impending arrival. After all, winter was here and with it, a war with an undead army. He had often imagined all the different ways that he could die, and being killed by supposed mythical creatures and rotting corpses was something that never crossed his mind. Surely, dying in the throes of passion or in his sleep was far more favourable than the fate than the one that most likely awaited him – all of them. Shaking his head to clear his mind from the terrifying thoughts, he drank down the rest of his wine and put the goblet down on the table in his cabin. He straightened his doublet, donned his cloak and made for the front of the ship. His queen and her new lover were already there, standing closer than would be appropriate for mere allies. Tyrion rolled his eyes and went to join them. Jon gave him a wry smile and nodded towards the shore.

"Welcome back to Winterfell, dwarf."

Tyrion smiled despite himself, remembering their first meeting in Winterfell so many years ago. It seemed like such a simpler time when he had first arrived. The events of that visit, however, had affected and ended so many lives. He looked up at his friend and replied, "Happy to be here, bastard King". Had it been anyone else, Jon would have surely reacted. As it was, he just laughed heartily and looked towards his childhood home. Tyrion caught a glimpse of his queen, smiling at Jon's apparent joy. He didn't exactly approve of this potentially dangerous relationship between those two, but he couldn't help feeling happy for his two of his closest friends.

Though he really did feel happy for them, it also reminded him of what he didn't have. Of what he had lost at least three times over. Tysha, Shae, Sansa… Did Sansa count? Tysha he had married for love, Shae he loved but could not marry, and Sansa he married out of duty and obligation – there was no real love between them. As he watched the shores of Winterfell approach, he thought back to his brief second marriage and sighed. Under different circumstances, maybe they could have been happy. No, he thought, she never wanted me. Whether it be because of my appearance, my name, or her grief for her family she didn't want me. She would have been dutiful, as befits a noble lady, and courteous, but she never would have been truly happy married to me.

Truth be told, he hadn't wanted her either. Yes, Sansa Stark's beauty was something of songs, and he would have thoroughly enjoyed the carnal parts of their marriage and having a gorgeous woman by his side, but he couldn't love her. Not really. Their marriage was the reason why he stopped seeing Shae. He felt responsible for this child wife and took his vows seriously. He wanted to protect her from pain and betrayal so he sent away his lover, the only woman since Tysha who really wanted him, unapologetically. He winced as he thought of her in his father's rooms. Maybe she was a fine actress and nothing more.

"What are you thinking about?" Daenerys interrupted his thoughts.

Tyrion's mouth twitched into a smirk and he replied honestly: "Marriage, your grace."

John snapped his head towards him, surprised amusement playing on his face. "Ah, so you're nervous about seeing my sister again" he teased.

Tyrion rolled his eyes again. "Why would I be nervous about seeing Sansa? Our marriage was nothing more than a living arrangement", he scoffed.

Jon looked laughed at his reaction. "No – you don't sound nervous about it at all", he replied before turning his attention back to the quickly approaching port.

Tyrion thought about that for a moment. Alright so he was nervous to see her. Jon had told him about her second forced marriage to Ramsay Bolton and could only imagine the horrors that she'd survived. She had never told Jon any details, he had said, but going by the stories he'd heard and the statements of witnesses… No, he would not force her to remain married to him. She'd suffered enough and so had he. Maybe, once the war was over, they could both find happiness. He still cared for the girl, enough to want her to have some joy in her life. Isn't that what everyone wants?

"Anchors!" he heard someone shout. It was time to pile into the smaller boats that would finally bring them to shore. He followed the two rulers, accompanied by Missandei, Grey Worm, and Varys. Together they were rowed to the port of White Harbour. Despite her preference of dragon riding to horses, Daenerys expressed her desire to display a united front upon their arrival at the Winterfell gates.

A few hours later, the gates were within sight. Thank the gods. My back is killing me. He was relieved and very much looking forward to a hot bath, a hot meal, a warm bed, and of course, wine. The gate opened immediately as the guards recognized the Stark and Targaryen banners. Having clearly been warned of their arrival, there was a crowd of northerners gathered in the courtyard to greet the procession. John dismounted first, followed by Daenerys and finally the rest of their personal entourage. Tyrion dismounted and subtly shook his legs, which had lost circulation during the ride from White Harbour. He listened attentively while Jon greeted his bannermen and introduced them to Daenerys.

Tyrion couldn't replay the exact words that were spoken, distracted as he was by the tingling in his legs and the pain in his back. He politely looked on during the exchange and thought he was doing a fair job of pretending to pay attention. At first he looked only at his Queen as she spoke, and to Jon at times, but then he found his eyes wandering to the faces in the crowd. He was shocked to see who could only be Brandon Stark – a young man in a make-shift wheelchair who stared intently at his group. Next to him stood a shorter, gangly young woman with dark brown hair – Arya? He smiled at the return of the supposed dead Stark children. Sansa must have been thrilled! He was surprised that his thoughts went first to her. He blinked to change his ideas and continued to look around. Many faces of strangers, of people he may have met in passing, and then – there she was.

He didn't know how he had not noticed her until that moment. She stood at the front of the crowd of spectators, the clear leader and head of the house. Well, she's certainly not fourteen anymore. Gone was the scared and timid girl he had married all those years ago. The person who stood before them was a strong, fierce looking woman. And woman, she was. Her softness was all but gone, replaced by a woman's curves and dangerous stare. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone quite so radiant. If she was beautiful before, there were no words that would describe her now.

She hadn't seemed to notice him until her heard his name. "Might I present my advisors; my lord hand, Tyrion Lannister, and my small council…" She continued to recite the names of the persons in her party, and as she presented him he had taken a few steps forward. Sansa had briefly looked at him and politely inclined her head at his introduction, quickly moving on to the rest. He was embarrassed to say that he was nearly wounded by her lack of recognition. She's the Lady of Winterfell, clearly she cannot show more than simple courtesies, she has hardly welcomed Jon home, why would she pay any additional attention to her sham of a husband? He knew it shouldn't bother him, yet it did.

The final greetings completed, Jon dismissed the crowd and went to greet his sister. She smiled warmly and embraced him. Before she had let him go, the girl he assumed was Arya Stark all but jumped on her half-brother. "Jon!" A smile lit up Jon's face and his picked up his youngest sister and swung her in a circle. "I thought you were dead you whelp!" Arya giggled as Sansa smiled upon the scene. Jon put Arya down and made his way to Bran. Tyrion watched the four remaining members of the Stark family reunited and couldn't help but feel like he was intruding in a private moment. He looked up at Daenerys who also looked upon the scene with a smile on her face.

Remembering her manners, Sansa approached the queen and greeted her more personally. "The North is yours, your grace". The words were right, but her tone was nearly threatening. Daenerys smiled sweetly back and the young woman, who then called for servants to show the queen and her entourage to their rooms. "You will be tired after such a long journey". Daenerys thanked her and followed the servants into the castle, with a sideways look at her Hand.

Tyrion was about to follow the servants when he caught her eye. He was surprised to see that she was staring at him. She's changed. Gone was a meek, slender girl from the north that he had already respected and admired for her tenacity as well as her beauty. The person he gazed at now was a woman grown, who still had the same features as his northern bride, but whose coldness seemed to have increased. I didn't know that could be possible. He thought, coldly. Her face was passive, showing no emotion. He only read mild curiosity and acknowledgement on her face, nothing more. She didn't look away when their eyes met, but boldly held his gaze. He wasn't sure if he should go speak with her, she only stood about ten or fifteen feet away. As he made to leave, the lady of the house made the choice for approaching.