The morning after their second wedding was starkly different to the aftermath of their first. The first flutters of spring were in the air, wispy and fragile but unshakably hopeful. And as the dawn broke and the birds sang their odes to new beginnings, their chambers were filled with a sense of peace. For the first time since her father was killed, Sansa felt safe for longer than the length of a heartbeat.
When Jon had asked her why she wanted to marry Tyrion again, she hadn't known what to say. It wasn't a love match; they didn't know one another well enough for that, and they were both all too aware of the advantages of the marriage. Nevertheless, it wasn't purely political, either. After last time, she had vowed never to subject herself to that again.
The truth lay somewhere in between. Over the years, she had learned that that was usually the case, so she hoped that boded well for them.
Jon hadn't understood it – that much was clear – but he had given her his blessing and agreed to give her away. It was the first time she had walked down the aisle with someone of her own blood, and it meant the world to her. Finally, she was entering a marriage sanctioned by House Stark.
That seemed like a good omen as well.
Her husband stirred. For a moment, Sansa tensed out of habit, but then she heard his familiar voice and her body relaxed instinctively. "Good morning, Lady Sansa."
She turned to face him and met his gaze squarely. When she was younger and more naïve, the look he was giving her would have made her avert her eyes as she blushed as red as her hair. But she wasn't that little girl anymore. So when her heart swelled with warmth and appreciation for this man – the only lion who had never hurt her, the only noble lord she could trust – she smiled and replied, "Good morning, Tyrion."
A/N: For Holly (OCDdegrassi) for the Drabble Game Challenge with the prompts Sansa/Tyrion and morning.