Author's Note :
This is my first fanfiction for Game of Thrones. Remember how Sansa was being belittled and yelled at by Joffrey and Tyrion saved her? Well, what if it happened again, with just Joffrey and Ser Meryn? But this time Tywin saves her. I feel like Sansa was always underestimated on the show and I wanted to change that in this story. Please review and I will be posting a part two shortly.
./././././././././././././.
"...for your brothers latest treasons..."
"…I beg you please…"
"Ser Meryn, leave her face I like her pretty."
"What is the meaning of this?"
The memory of her last session with Joffrey runs through her mind.
She had been summoned once again. Once again the torture toy for Joffrey, once again no one to save her.
Sansa walked with the Kingsguard to the throne room, where Joffrey would no doubt bestow more pain and suffering on her. Her brother was a traitor and even though Joffrey had now been promised to Lady Margarey, Sansa was still the play thing. She was the thing that nobody wanted so she was what was most disposable and would go unnoticed the easiest.
Once arrived, she noted that Ser Meryn looked as though he couldn't wait to destroy what was left of Sansa. He was practically foaming at the mouth.
Bowing to him, "Your Grace."
"Ah yes, Lady Sansa, it's about time you arrived. Ser Meryn has been given a new weapon and I thought what better way to test it out than by using it on you!"
Sansa held her breath and held her tears. She was tired of crying in front of this half twit.
"I will do whatever you need me to Your Grace."
"Yes of course you will! Because the King may and will do what he likes!"
Sansa doesn't shake at his raised voice anymore, she's grown far too used to it. Instead she watches as he gets more and more frustrated, beginning to see the temper tantrum child through the title of King. Joffrey rises from the throne and paces a few feet before continuing,
"Ser Meryn has a new bludgeon, isn't that exciting? I gave it to him last evening for all of his marvelous work in protecting me. Part of his gift is you. Now you mustn't let me down, he and I both have been looking forward to this all day."
Sansa keeps her blank face - showing no emotion, "Yes, Your Grace."
His white cloak doesn't suit him, its much too dapper of a color for such a cruel man. Her head is hurting and her stomach is twisting into knots - just because Sansa doesn't show her emotions doesn't mean she's not feeling them.
"Go Ser Meryn, use her as you wish!"
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Ser Meryn walks until he is directly in front of Sansa, her steely eyed gaze not changing for this useless puppet before her.
Immediately, he raises the leather wrapped wooden bludgeon and brings it down on Sansa's shoulder. She cries out in pain despite her best efforts to stay strong and silent and hunches over from the hit.
Joffrey is clapping and laughing, "Again, again!"
He is a boy made of evil and ash and pain. She fully knows it. They all do, they just won't admit it.
While still hunched over, Meryn hits her back again and again and again, three blows to her spine before she collapses onto the floor, tears streaming down her face. Ser Meryn laughs and kicks her with his leather boot until she rolls over onto her back,
"The weapon is of great quality, Your Grace. I thank you for it. May I continue?"
Joffrey nods, eagerly awaiting where Ser Meryn will land his next injury on Sansa. Pulling strength from a source she didn't know she had, Sansa rises and stands in front of Ser Meryn. She may have been a fool and share blood with traitors, but she is no doormat. She is a wolf. A direwolf.
The bludgeon rises and falls down on her thigh, she screams, but remains standing as the bludgeon is raised again. Before the next blow is landed, however, a thundering voice interrupts -
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
Not knowing who was yelling and at this point not caring, Sansa is grateful for the pause in this torture round.
"Grandfather, I am doing what I like because I am the King."
Joffrey's voice is calm from his seat as it dawns on Sansa, Tywin Lannister, and members of his guard had interrupted them. Tywin did not come across as the type who would mercilessly beat women for sport, so she allowed herself to feel safe if only for a moment. Tywin is standing beside her, glancing at her, then looking back to Joffrey,
"So this is what you like?! Torturing and beating young women?! King you may be, but you are also a Lannister and Lannisters do not beat women!"
"I could have your head for saying that to me!"
Tywin climbs the steps to the throne, leaning down close into Joffrey's face, then says in a gravely soft tone,
"You could, but you won't."
Though Joffrey was King, the look in the eyes of Tywin Lannister when he spoke those words almost made Joffrey wet himself. Joffrey knew his grandfather and he knew his grandfather was right. He was the most powerful of all the Lannisters and that made him the most valuable.
Descending down the stairs, Tywin continued,
"Your Grace, it is apparent that you have far more important tasks that demand your attention. I will be watching over Sansa Stark from now on, ensuring that she does not become a problem for you ever again."
Tywin motions to a member of his guard,
"You, kill Ser Meryn."
"Grandfather he is of my Kings guard! He is here to protect me, you cannot kill him!"
"Your Grace, we have much more suitable men to protect you and to be on your guard. Ser Meryn is no longer fit to best serve you. He will be put to death immediately."
Joffrey is seething, but deep down even he knows theres no winning a fight against Tywin Lannister. Tywin's guard member crosses the room and slits Ser Meryn's throat, instantly killing him.
Joffrey storms out of the throne room, not caring about the mess he's leaving behind him.
"Get rid of his body and leave us. Now."
The guardsmen collect Ser Meryn's body and leave Sansa and Tywin together in the throne room.
Sansa stares at the floor, not having very much interaction with Tywin she doesn't quite know what to do.
Tywin moves to standing right in front of her and he hates the involuntary flinch he sees her make,
"I'm not going to hurt you Sasna. I apologize for my grandson and his behavior. I would like to tend to your wounds and ensure your safety, if you would let me."
Sansa looks up at him, asking a question much more daring than she feels,
"Should I trust you, My Lord Hand?"
Tywin smirks, admiring the stones this young woman clearly has. Injured, distraught, overwhelmed, yes. But she was no fool. Not anymore.
"I will never hurt you nor would I ever intentionally put you in harms way. If you cannot trust someone who can promise that, who can you trust?"
Riddles were making her head spin and riddles with questions were only making it worse. Sansa nods at Tywin and felt her legs give out underneath her. She lands, her knees meeting the stone floor hard and unforgiving. It shouldn't have surprised Tywin that her body gave way, but it did.
He follows her to the floor and instead of helping her stand, he picks her up entirely. She's far lighter than he had expected, weighing barely anything at all. One arm around her shoulders and one under her knees, he walks them out of the throne room and away from the carnage. Sansa's head lies on his shoulder as she's unable to find the strength to hold it up anymore.
Tywin takes her to his chambers and pushes the door closed behind him with his booted foot. He lies her down on the bed and steps out of the room, telling a member of his guard to gather the items he was sure he would need. If she needed more medical attention than what he would give to soldiers on the field he would call a Maester. Until then, Tywin wanted to keep this quiet. The poor woman had been through enough and he felt badly that it had happened at the hands of his grandson.
Returning into the room and closing the door,
"How are you feeling Sansa?"
She doesn't know how to say, 'I feel like shit because your demonic grandson had his guard beat the shit out of me.' So she pauses to try to fight the right words.
"My Lord Hand, I-"
"Sansa, this is not a formal circumstance, you should call me Tywin. And don't try to answer that question with what you think I want to hear, just answer it honestly."
She clears her throat and prays to the Seven he won't harm her for this,
"I feel awful Tywin. I feel absolutely exhausted and everything hurts and I'm embarrassed and I'm tired of being the torture play thing for King Joffrey. Doesn't he have Lady Margarey for that now? When will he leave me alone?"
As soon as the words leather mouth her face turns a blush color-but not from embarrassment. Her color rose because of anger. Sansa is tired of having to be pushed around from one Lannister to another in the chess game that she didn't seem to be able to win. Tywin asked for honesty and she gave it.
Tywin smirks, once again impressed,
"I must say Sansa, I appreciate your honesty. I'm afraid Joffrey won't ever leave you alone though, not until you're wed and even then he would only lessen what he would do. But he won't ever leave you be."
The knock on the door reveals the medical items have arrived and locking the door behind him Tywin walks to the bedside then continues,
"Now, I'm assuming you would rather not have Grand Maester Pycell look you over?"
Sansa nods.
"Then I will be the one to bandage you. I need you to remove your clothes."
He gets straight to the point but his tone is calm and oddly comforting to Sansa for some reason. She winces at trying to sit up, so Tywin leans down and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her up and forward until she is able to slide her legs over the bed to stand.
It dawns on Tywin that she won't be able to do any of this on her own, so he helps her stand and then turns her around to unfasten her gown.
"I apologize for not being able to be of more help Tywin."
He disregards her apology,
"You have done nothing of which you need to apologize for. The dressmakers, however, will need to apologize for putting so many fasteners on this gown."
His comment makes her giggle and Sansa can't remember the last time she giggled when she truly meant it. It felt nice in the same way that saying 'Tywin' felt nice - new, refreshing, and oddly comforting.
Once the dress is unfastened, Tywin pushes it forward and down her shoulders and pulls her slip up and over her head. Sansa is left in her small clothes and now they've arrived at the point of no return.
All of her injuries, both old and new, are on display and are shouting in the silent room. She can't hide from Tywin for her injuries speak for themselves. Bruises of purple, black, blue and healing yellow green cover her back and spine, there are more wrapped around her kidneys and thighs. She has bleeding wounds from where the bludgeon landed on her spine repeatedly and pulled her skin open.
Her left shoulder is bleeding and is already swollen while her arms are varying shades of the night skies.
Tywin is surprised. For all of Joffrey's torture, Sansa carried herself well and never did anything to make someone believe that she was this badly hurt. She knew how to hide herself and how to hide herself well. He is also surprised at how thin she is. Tywin can clearly see every vertebrae in her spine and her tailbone must make sitting for long periods uncomfortable.
"Turn around."
His voice softly commanding, Sansa turns and her front is more of the same. Dark colors and abrasions run from her collarbones to her hips, then continue to her legs. Her hip bones are jutting out from her small clothes and he can count her ribs easily. Her thighs are lean and her stomach is as flat as a board. Her knees bleeding and her hands shaking, Tywin fully takes in the woman before him. For that's what she is, that's what this life has made her - a woman. Sansa Stark is no little girl.
Grasping the cloth from the bowl of warm water, Tywin rings out the excess and begins to clean away the blood from her body and tenderly goes over her bruises. Sansa slowly begins to cry as silently as she can, it has been so long since any kindness was shown to her and now it has come from the most surprising of sources. Never in her lifetime did she imagine Tywin Lannister taking any sort of care of her.
He motions for her to turn around and he continues the same gentle care on that side as well. Her spine and shoulder are the worst of the injuries. Taking the healing salve, he covers the wounds on her spine and hears her hiss in pain. The salve works but it always stings like hell.
"I know it stings but it works. It will heal your wounds quickly."
Sansa nods and Tywin continues. Once the salve has been applied, he places and secures bandages where needed and does the same to her shoulder and knees.
"Do you have something more comfortable to wear?"
Sansa nods and begins to walk to get it - but is stopped in her motion,
"Tell me where it is."
"Bottom drawer, far left. Dark grey."
It felt odd to be telling Tywin Lannister what to do but then again it felt odd to be tortured.
Tywin finds the gown she's referring to, it's of a comfortable cloth that he can tell has been worn many times.
Returning to her, Tywin now sees the tears she's silently been shedding for what he assumes was the duration of his tending to her. Holding the gown in one hand and looking her in the eyes, he gently puts his arms around her and pulls her into his chest. He imagines that the last time Sansa was given true love and respect was so long ago that he had bigger things to worry about than the Starks.
Sansa wraps her arms around Tywin and fists his shirt in her hands.
She doesn't care. She doesn't care in this moment what Tywin thinks of her. Sansa doesn't care about anything in this moment other than how truly nice it feels to be held by someone who isn't trying to kill her or bed her. She will cling to this moment for as long as she can because she doesn't know if she'll get a moment this comforting again for a long time.
Her tears are putting a puddle into his shirt and she's starting to shiver. With hardly any meat on her bones it's no wonder she always seems to be cold. He truly feels bad for her though, he wants to make her time here more enjoyable. Where this thought process is coming from he has no idea, but it's gnawing at him to help her.
Tywin pulls away from her reluctantly and cups her face in his hands to wipe away her tears. She offers him a small smile that is returned as he helps dress her. He takes extra caution with the shoulder that should have never been injured in the first place - along with the rest of her injuries.
Her legs are getting shaky from standing for too long and he helps guide her to his bed,
"Should I return to my own chambers Tywin?"
"I do not think that would be wise at this time. I want to keep you as safe as possible so I think it best you stay here."
What Tywin really wanted to say was that he had more people that needed to be killed for what they had done to her before he would let her out of his sight. But that was something he would handle and she needn't worry about more death and pain.
Sansa nods as Tywin helps get her comfortably into bed,
"Now, you rest here. The guards will be at the door and I'll be the only one allowed in, unless you request someone. Alright?"
Sansa nods and opens her mouth to speak, but shuts it.
"What is it?"
She can't answer him. She can't tell him what she wants him to do to her, so she does it herself. She slowly leans up and kisses him on the lips. Sansa is surprised to find that regardless of the harsh words he barks on a daily basis, his lips are soft and smooth. She lingers there a moment and then Tywin returns her kiss. He leans down closer to Sansa and deepens the kiss, tongues gently dueling for dominance before each breaking apart.
Tywin is surprised at the little wolf in his bed. He supposes she'll apologize for what she's done now that it's over, but she only looks at him with romantic eyes and blushes. He kisses heron the forehead and makes sure she's comfortable, then rises to leave,
"Rest well little wolf."
She nods and Tywin leaves, telling the guards once he's shuttle door behind him,
"Nobody and I mean nobody in that room unless it is I or someone Lady Stark has requested herself. If those orders are not followed your punishment will be immediate death. Is that understood?"
A choir of 'Yes My Lord' is heard, then Tywin heads back to the Tower of the Hand. It seems as though he has a lot more work to do - and most of it for a little wolf.
./././././././.
Please review! :)