The timid rays of sunshine were caressing her perfectly-shaped face, falling shyly on her slightly parted lips and her sleeping, closed eyes. The sun was quite playful, for each time Sansa unconsciously tried to escape the teasing heat, it stoically followed her, flowing over her lovely auburn hair. She was beginning to stir in her sleep, starting to remember everything, already praying to find a way to evade memories and fears, even if only for mere moments. She wanted to stay like that forever, caught up in her own little wonderland, between sweet dreams and harsh reality, while gentle and unseen fingers played upon her serene features.

Meanwhile, Tyrion was incomprehensively mumbling something about a damned headache, eyes still closed. He too would have given anything to wake from slumber and glance upon an entirely different present – a long, appealing body, not that of a dwarf. A clear face with no trace of the insistent scar. And maybe, just maybe, if that wasn`t too much to ask for, guilt-free, peaceful eyes, not his blood-shot ones in which cruel fights and unknown struggles were reflected. Indeed, it must have too much, because, every morning, he woke up the same. So he always got up and faced reality.

That particular glorious morning, it was harder than usual for him to laugh in fate`s face, to be ironical and strong, to shrug his shoulders and go about as if nothing was amiss. Why? Because he was married to Sansa Stark, a girl of fourteen who had every right to never cast a look at him after what his family, the Lannisters, had done. He now carried on his shoulder a mountain of guilt that his sister and father had probably never felt, or had surely dismissed as absurd – another human emotion to be played with and then cast in a corner, useless and bothering. However, he could never do that. He had seen her, had caught fleeting glimpses of a pure, dreaming and idealistic soul tortured by grief so intense that it was a miracle she hadn`t broken. Not until now, he bitterly thought. But he had come to wonder how long she would last in that sick play, the mise en scène of all the cunning plots going on behind the curtain.

Tyrion knew Sansa needed someone to give her hope, make her feel like a human being again, after so much humiliation and deceit. It was also clear as day that he was by far the most unnatural choice to do so, with the repugnance she must have felt for him after her life had fallen apart. But right now, he was the only thing she had left close enough to her to fully understand her sufferings and try to comfort her. For better or worse they would have said, but Tyrion hoped it would be only for the better. Worse was an option he didn`t dare think about.

So he got up, taking in a deep breath, as he pushed in a corner of his mind the intentions to once again find a way to enjoy the elaborate show of the court, to outdo them all. Because his main reason for facing the new day in front of him was Sansa and winning her trust. Beating the others at their own games, that could come second.

He slowly looked around the spacious room, warmed and illuminated by the morning sun, somewhat relieved that Shae hadn`t prepared the familiar breakfast on the table. Perhaps she too was trying to avoid the newlyweds for as long as possible. Tyrion dreaded all the uncomfortable situations that were sure to come, as Shae was Sansa`s maid and one of her few reliable friends. Of course, she was also his mistress and he cared a lot about her, but they had to put an end to it. He had made vows to Sansa on their wedding day, arranged or not, and he intended to keep them as well as he could.

Slowly, with small and careful steps, minding not to wake her, Tyrion approached the bed. Sansa was there, more vulnerable than he had ever seen her, with her guard let down and her angelic face bathed in sunlight. There were no worries written on her features at the time, no stern expression or unseeing, expressionless eyes.

'So beautiful' he whispered, for she was indeed. It was a unique moment to look upon someone who hadn`t been entirely spoiled by the vicious ways of the court, someone who had chosen to fight so as to preserve their personality, who hadn`t become vile or revengeful.

In that moment, he wanted to kiss her so badly it literally hurt. He felt drawn to her, enchanted by her pure and oblivious appearance and he wondered how it would be to taste her rosy lips, at least once, without having to behold the look of disgust or fear in her eyes. But he knew it wouldn`t be fair to steal a kiss like that, without her being given a choice to withdraw or approve. Instead, he leaned closer to her, gently enough to increase the torture he was experiencing already and timidly pressed his lips to her marble-white forehead. He briefly wondered how such a simple and innocent gesture could be one of his most intimate and meaningful experiences with someone else.

Sansa felt a gentle touch on her forehead and, initially, wanted to teach Arya a lesson for disturbing her sleep. It soon dawned on her that Arya was no longer there, with her, that she had run away and left her alone. Then who was…?

Her eyes instantly snapped open and to her utter shock she saw Tyrion still bent over her, his face mere inches away from hers, looking as scared and embarrassed as she must have been. 'What were you…doing?' She couldn`t help but ask. It had been so long since someone had last kissed her forehead – probably her mother wishing her sweet dreams before all this…

'I…' he stammered, unsure of what to say, for he didn`t want to offend or frighten her more than he already had. 'I approached the bed to see if you were awake, but you were still sleeping and you looked so peaceful and unguarded that I could not contain the sympathy I felt for you then. It`s so rare that I get to see you without a mask carefully covering your face. I`m sorry, my lady.'

'No, my lord, do not apologize. I understand your motivations and your actions did not offend me at all, although they brought back to the present memories that hurt.'

'Alright then, Sansa.' She was still hesitating, avoiding his eyes.

'My lord, may I ask you something? If I didn`t wake up… would you have done something more?'

'No. No, I wouldn`t have kissed you on the lips without your previous consent. You see, my dear lady, I intend to honor the promise I made to you last night. I know I wasn`t in the best state to discuss such a serious matter, but I meant everything I said.' She suddenly felt ashamed of thinking so low of him as to search for a reassurance of his honorable intentions. After all, he was her husband and wasn`t obliged to consider her wishes or comfort.

'Thank you. For reiterating your promise and for reassuring me. I apologize for doubting you and your behavior. I know it isn`t fair on my part.' She tried to smile, but it still failed to reach her lips. However, the smile was closer than it had been before.

'Given the circumstances, fair is becoming a rather vague concept, don`t you think?'

'Definitely, my lord. I couldn`t agree more.'

'Tyrion, Sansa. My name is Tyrion. Please call me so. My lord seems too distant even for a marriage like ours.'

At that moment, Shae entered the room, her eyes fixed on a remote spot on the wall. She felt confused, hurt and ashamed for being caught in such a complicated situation, all the more because she cared for Sansa and only wanted the best for her.

'As you wish, Tyrion.' Perceiving Sansa`s warmer, more natural tone and her less reserved appearance, Shae`s intuition could tell her that the lovely girl was beginning to open up to Tyrion. 'After all, he is her husband' she thought. 'Not mine.'

'Good morning, my lady' she bowed without even bothering to acknowledge Tyrion. 'Shall I bring you breakfast?'

'Yes please, Shae. Good morning to you too.' While the newlyweds sat at the table and ate in more or less comfortable silence, Shae found the sheets on the bed stainless. She had expected that in some way, for she knew Tyrion could be noble and reserved with someone who deserved it. And Sansa did. However, Shae was realistic enough to know that there would come a time when they would be forced to change that situation, or, even worse for her, when the husband and wife would choose it of their own free will.

So Shae knew she had to think of what was left to do now, when Tyrion`s illicit affair was slowly fading away, eclipsed by a rightful and probably faithful marriage. She could leave, but she wanted to support Sansa and help her as much as she could, even though it deeply pained her to be the persona non grata.

After the newlyweds finished their meal, they both stood up, unsure of what to do next.

'My dear Sansa, I have business to attend to now and thinks to account for, as you may well imagine. I don`t know if the news bother or please, but I will be back for lunch and then we could do whatever you wish. That is, if my company is not a source of distress too much for you to bear it…. If so, I could spend the afternoon somewhere.'

Sansa began to appreciate how much he minded her own wishes, giving her choices almost no one had ever given her.

'No. It`s perfectly fine. Besides, I`d like to get to know you better, Tyrion.'

He looked amazed, thankful and very happy. He came closer to her, slowly, letting her time to withdraw. When she didn`t, he took her hand and kissed it gently, deferentially. Shae was glad none of them was looking at her, for they surely would have read her tear-stained thoughts.

This is it. Another chapter. I wanted to end it ex abrupto and portray Shae`s feelings now that she has to cope with the situation.

Hope you liked the development of their characters. Would you want their relationship to grow slowly or faster?

Until next time,

Ann