Chapter One – Fate and Dreams

(Sansa)

I felt so powerless, so utterly abandoned nothing but a small wolf; cowering afraid and alone.

Why? Why did I have to be such a stupid child? Why could I not have seen sense when my father had told me to leave with Arya? Why couldn't I have been a good girl and gone back to my mother?

Why? Why? Why?

All these questions ran through my mind with dizzying speed, one after the other an unrelenting tyrant of what ifs and whys, as I stood before the mirror that adorned my chamber wall looking at the reflection of a ghost of the girl that had become me. Dull sunken eyes, dark empty pits, devoid of emotion, pale sickly looking skin, robbed of colour due to lack of nutrition. This girl stood in the mirror was not me, it couldn't be, and there was no proud Northern strength within the reflections posture. There was no fierce wolf in her eyes; there was no life in the reflections soul. It was just a shell, a vessel of the girl who was once Sansa Stark.

(Tyrion)

How can I go through with this? Why is my father being so cruel? Would she show up? Hasn't the poor child suffered enough?

So many questions flooded my mind at once, as I stood before the mirror that sat on the floor leaning against my chamber wall. Its position as I looked into it raised another wave of revulsion in my stomach. However, I managed to force it down with another large gulp of wine. I would not suffer the embarrassment of having to use a stool to look upon myself every day. Looking upon my reflection a father harsh realisation came crashing down upon me. Today I would wed, again.

I was not ready for this; I vowed never to wed another, after. No. I would not relive that memory. Not now. Not ever. Taking another large draught of wine, I forced myself to look in the mirror one last time. My reflection was not how it had been mere days ago. Gone was the self confident mask that frequently adorned my features, the one I had mastered over the years. Gone was the slight smile and mischievous twinkle in my eye. In its place was a look of pure disgust and something else, though I would never admit it out loud. The great Tyrion Lannister was absolutely and positively terrified of having to face Sansa Stark.

(Sansa)

A movement behind me caught my eye and drew my attention away from myself loathing and pointless questions. The sight that greeted my attention almost drew a smile from behind my frozen mask, the one I had perfected over the years.

Shae my hand maiden stood in behind me smiling the most beautiful smile as she looked upon me.

"You are a vision, that every woman in the seven kingdoms will be envious of, M'lady" Shae gushed as she started fussing about my wedding dress.

Shae was not the most perfect of hand maidens, but she was my handmaiden, and I wouldn't have her any other way. She wasn't from around here, that much was obvious, but she was the only friend I had, the only one I trusted. It was dangerous, but I didn't have a choice, Shaes' mood was infectious and I let the mask slip and give her a small smile. However, even I could tell it didn't reach my frozen eyes.

Shaes' smile faltered a little.

"M'lady, what is wrong?" She asked concern thick in her voice, as her eyes searched my very soul.

Silence stretched out around us, i didn't know how I would be able to admit my fears to her. After all this time of going through the motions and the repetitive phrases of "My family were traitors, they deserved to die" and "My beloved Joffery, our King, My one true love", how could I open my soul and let my true fears out. How could I tell this confident, beautiful, strange woman, that I feared I would not live through the day?

A knock on the door broke the extended silence between us and for just a second I was thankful. That feeling of relief and thankfulness soon vanished, as from around the small gap in the door came Pod's head. Tyrion's squire. Oh no.

"Myyy, Milady?" Pods small unsure voice travelled across the room "It's time"

I chocked, my eyes burned, my throat closed and my head span. Then the world went black.

(Tyrion)

I stood at the front of the throne room, clad in my 'wedding clothes', and my bride? The fourteen year old Sansa Stark, urgh! I felt sick, she was but a child. Oh, how I wish my father would be struck down, how I prayed for his death, to the Old God's and the New.

As I turned to look at their 'wedding guests' on this day, I saw the smug face of that spiteful, hated creature that was his sister her smile as toxic as her very mind and soul, black as the rock that surrounded their fathers' gold. Turning away from her piercing glare, my attention was caught by the most deceitful glee in my nephew's eyes. They say that the apple never falls far from the tree; and in the case of Cerci and Joffery, that saying could not have been closer to the truth. Finally, my eyes focused upon my father. Lucifer reincarnated. I couldn't bear to look at him, for fear of ripping his face off.

Just as I was starting to think that this day could not get any worse, or whether I was stuck in some horrible nightmare that would not allow me to wake. A soft, yet loud, music erupted from the organ and my heart rose in my throat and my stomach dropped out of my arse.

(Sansa)

Somehow, and I will never know how, Shae managed to wake me and calm me down. Her calm collected words and strange accent soothed me, aided me and somehow revived my thoughts.

"He has done you no harm, he has been nothing but kind to you M'lady, he will not harm you, he will be gentle, kind and warm" Then Shae said something that shook her to the core. "Tyrion is righteous, loving, kind. Would you rather be marrying Joffery?"

Terrified I imagined myself standing here, knowing that it was Joffery waiting for me at the end of that aisle and not Tyrion. My body and mind betrayed me and I whimpered.

Shae smiled a somewhat triumphant smile "I thought so, do not forget Lady Sansa, it is Margery Tyrell who is to marry the true monster and you who is to marry the knight. He is saving you; Tyrion will be your salvation!".

(Tyrion)

Was he dreaming, or had his sister finally gotten her wish and had he died?

I stood rooted to the spot, jaw slack and in complete awe at the sight in front of me. There at the opposite end of the throne room stood not a girl of fourteen, but an angel.

Sansa Stark; was a vision, a pure and beautiful vision, all red and white. Her pale northern skin a glow with a light that seemed to shine from within her, her cheeks and lips a lovely shade that would put even the fairest pink rose to shame. Her eyes where the lightest of blue only to be brought forth by the fiery halo that were her soft curled bright red hair. She looked like a holy warrior. Sansa Stark was no longer a girl of fourteen, but a woman with a purpose and a determination so fresh and a light in her very soul.

In that moment, I stared at this avenging angel in white, I felt a spark of hope that the wolf that lay within Sansa had finally decided to rear its magnificent head and fight back. With that thought locked at the front of my mind, I smiled the first genuine smile since the announcement of their engagement. I couldn't resist, I looked upon my family and my smile grew wider as I saw the look of pure envy that graced my sisters' face as she openly glared at my bride.