Sansa looked round at her chambers. Her and Tyrion's chambers. She had to keep correcting herself. The marriage had not necessarily been going badly itself, but Sansa just didn't know whether or not she could trust Tyrion. His family had just been involved in the murder of the last of her family. As far as she knew. Arya could still be out there, but it was unlikely. She was now and forever officially stuck with Tyrion, at King's Landing. That was until she became pregnant, then she would be able to return to Winterfell. Not that it would be the same. And not to mention that fact that that would mean Tyrion coming near her. There was no way around it that she could think of, apart from running away; but would she survive? There's no way of knowing. Until the time came when might actually feel comfortable enough around Tyrion for her to become pregnant, she would just have to make do with having a husband from an evil family, with the constant threat of rape and harm from Joffrey. It was going to be a long, harsh life. There was no doubt about that.
The death of her mother and brother had been hard on Sansa, of course, and Tyrion was doing his best to try and improve the situation for them both. Or, at least, he was trying to keep Sansa comfortable. He had promised not to touch her until she wanted him to. However, with this being their only escape, it was better that it happened sooner rather than later. For Sansa's sake, they couldn't stay at King's Landing for much longer; it just wasn't safe.
Sansa looked around at the pretty furniture, and the large bed, and wondered for the millionth time if she would ever be ready to except her husband in her bed. Her mother had not loved her father when they got married, but Sansa had never thought that she may one day be in the same position. She was so stupid as a child to think that she could one day be queen. Of course, she still was a child; or, at least, that's how Lord Tyrion saw it. They could get on well when they both tried, but it rarely happened.
Today, Tyrion had been in meetings since morning. He would be back soon, as it was coming up to sunset, so they would be required to eat together; to keep up good appearances, as Tyrion so often reminded her. He would come in, tentatively ask her how her day had been, to which she would reply the same as usual: walking, embroidery (there were rarely changes in Sansa's day to day routine). After the small talk was out of the way, they would sit, and the wine would be poured, the food served, and they would sit and eat in near silence. Tyrion would try to make conversation, and Sansa would give the same courteous responses that she had become so accustomed to saying. This would go on until Sansa said she was tired, and they would go to bed. Or rather, Sansa would go to bed, and Tyrion would either sleep on the sofa, or go and read in the library and fall asleep where he sat.
Sansa was prepared for the evening to progress, though she was not particularly looking forward to it, when Tyrion walked in. He had a look on his face. A look that told Sansa that she would not like the news to come. And she didn't. He started, "My brother and sister have asked to eat with us this evening. They will be along shortly. I am sorry, I did try to convince them that now was not a good time for you to be socialising, given the current situation and recent occurrences, but Cersei seems to have it in mind that you are now a Lannister, and that you should behave like one, and not care about your family. I do apologise, and will try to do better at changing their minds, should there ever be a next time, which hopefully there won't".
Sansa stared at him for a good fifteen seconds, before replying in her usual manner, "of course, My Lord".
"Tyrion. If we must live together, then please, call me Tyrion."
"Very well, Tyrion" She started to move towards the door, "I'll just go ask Shae to bring us more food and wine"
"There's no need, I've already seen to it"
"I'd like to go for a short walk anyway. Just to clear my head"
"Very well," Tyrion watched his young wife as she left. He would try to convince her to stay and wait there, but he didn't want to risk scaring her even more. It was becoming increasingly harder to get her to trust him. He couldn't blame her though; and he was dreading dinner tonight, just the four of them. It's like they were trying to torture poor Sansa even more than they already had. It's not even like Cersei and Jamie were on good terms at the moment. Tyrion just couldn't understand their reasons; unless of course their father had put them both up to it, to check up on their marriage. It wouldn't surprise him. Perhaps he should just be blunt and ask them as they were eating. But again, he didn't want to distance Sansa any more from him. Being married was a lot harder than he ever thought it would be.