A/N: First off, I would like to thank everyone who has read and reviewed "Because You Are My Son" and/or "You Will Always Be My Lady". Your reviews and support mean a great deal to me and I am honored that so many people are enjoying the story. As promised, here is the first chapter to Now And Forever, which takes place a little after where I left off in You Will Always Be My Lady (NOTE: if you have not read either of the aforementioned stories, read those first).
I am having a wonderful time writing these stories and am even more glad that people are actually enjoying what I am writing. Again, thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed; it has been a real pleasure reading all of your comments! :) I hope you enjoy this next installment, which I plan to be significantly longer than the other two stories.
Title: Now And Forever
Pairing: Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark
Genre: Romance/Drama
Summary: Sequel to "You Will Always Be My Lady". Tyrion has admitted his reasons for finding Sansa and she is none too pleased. As they brave the harsh winter that has finally arrived, Tyrion decides to try and regain Sansa's trust. This is easier said than done, however, when Tyrion knows his wife hates him and a man with dubious intents follows their every move, waiting to strike.
Rating: M for Mature
Warnings: Sexual content, sexual innuendos, profanity, attempted kidnapping, violence
She hated him. Tyrion knew that much at least. And how could he blame her? He was the Imp, probably the most hideous looking man in all of the Seven Kingdoms, and he had just revealed to her the fact that he was eventually going to have to bed her. She thought I was going to take her home, Tyrion thought sullenly, And I am. But now that she knows what I have to do, I doubt she wants to even mention home anymore.
Tyrion had spent a good deal of the money he'd had on a horse for the both of them. Strong, well built, certainly used to the cold. With his short, stunted legs and Sansa's incredibly short dress, traveling by foot in the beginnings of winter was completely out of the question. He'd also managed to not exactly steal a coat from one of the leering men from the other night, primarily so that Sansa did not freeze during the journey north. Yes, where it will undoubtedly be even more colder, Tyrion thought, not feeling particularly excited about that part. He enjoyed the sun and the warm breeze, not malicious winds and bitter snow. And yet, he was obligated to travel to Winterfell, to face off with Roose Bolton and probably his bastard as well. Tyrion was not looking forward to that.
A particularly harsh gust of wind slammed into them. The horse whinnied and paused briefly. Tyrion felt Sansa shiver violently against him, even through the thick wool coat that she wore. Trying to ignore the fact that if he turned back to look at her he could see some of the flushed skin of her thighs, he glanced back slightly in concern. "Sansa, are you well? Is that coat too thin for you? I will gladly-"
"No, I am quite well, my lord." Sansa interrupted flatly, not looking into Tyrion's face. Tyrion was silenced.
They rode on in this fashion for the next couple hours, the silence between them stretching out like a gaping void. The cold Tyrion could tolerate, the chafing from riding the horse for so long he could bear with a slight grimace, but this. This needed to stop.
"I am sorry." Tyrion apologized. What was he apologizing for? Well, probably everything. For being Sansa's husband. For admitting the truth to her, as much as it was the right thing to have done. For existing.
"What are you sorry for, my lord?" Sansa said to him. "You are following your lord father's orders. There is nothing to be said or done about it except when the time comes in which we are expected to perform our duties."
She needs to stop speaking like that! Tyrion let out a heavy sigh. "I promised I would never bed you until you are ready. I intend to keep that promise."
"And what if," Sansa retorted snappishly, "I am never ready? What if I never wish to sleep with you?"
Tyrion inhaled sharply at the jab in his chest. That hurt more than it should have. "Then our heads will be on pikes, side by side, in King's Landing, looking splendid and marvelous rotting in the sight of gods and men." Tyrion said sarcastically. He felt Sansa flinch behind him and felt a surge of guilt crash through him.
They continued to ride, even as the light of the day eventually began to diminish and the air become markedly colder. The trees became denser, more intimidating, looming over the pair of them as they slowly edged their way up north, towards more cold and more trees.
Sansa was shivering far more frequently now, her breath coming out in brief pants. Tyrion felt a surge of irrational rage, at himself and at the situation he found himself in. I am a terrible husband, he mused to himself, for allowing this to happen to Sansa. Why, I cannot even find shelter for us as they day ends and the night draws near.
Tyrion heard something snap behind them. He jerked his head around, staring suspiciously behind them. A dimly lit expanse of trees and muddy road lay behind them. "My lord?" Sansa inquired in a small voice. Tyrion blinked. The cold must be making me feel this way, he decided to himself.
"It is nothing, Sansa." he replied, turning himself around despite the prickling on the back of his neck and the dreadful feeling that someone was following them.