Chapter 6

Sansa searched carefully all month for suitable nameday gifts for Tyrion. He seldom came home before two in the morning, so instead of missing his nameday completely, she decided to stay up until the wee hours of the morning and wish him a happy year as his nameday dawned.

She happily put her little stack of gifts on the floor beside the chaise where he removed his leather boots before he climbed into bed with her at night, and instead of donning her usual nightgown, she put on one in Lannister crimson and gold. She'd not grown to like his house colors any better over the years, but Tyrion was a good man and she felt his nameday deserved the extra effort. As she checked her reflection in the mirror, she grudgingly saw that the red and gold complimented her auburn hair, and satisfied with her appearance, she went to the chaise and waited for him.

Just after the clock struck one, she awoke to find that she'd dozed off on the chaise, but she also heard Tyrion coming in, trying not to make noise.

"Sansa!" he exclaimed, genuinely surprised for once. "What are you doing awake?"

"Happy nameday," she said. "I knew you'd come in late tonight, and I wanted to present you with your gifts on your actual nameday so I stayed awake and waited for you."

He drew nearer to her, and he glanced at the pile of presents on the floor. Then she thought he noticed her crimson and gold gown, but he quickly looked away from her and back to the gifts.

She patted the chaise. "Sit," she said. She climbed down from the chaise and knelt in the floor to hand him gifts.

Sansa watched as he sat down on the chaise. He looked nervous and ill-at-ease.

"This one first," said Sansa, handing him a heavy package.

He unwrapped it, tearing away the gold paper in a single motion. She clapped.

"The Complete Saga of Dragon Warfare, by Septon Standish von Smythe," he said. "Where did you find this, Sansa? I've wanted it forever."

"A lady never tells," she said, handing him another gift.

He tore away the crimson paper and gasped. "The History of Buying, Bartering, and Lending Across the Narrow Sea, by Hans du Glenn," he read. "Sansa, this is wonderful."

"I hoped you'd like it," she said. "Sometimes people don't like work-related gifts, but our Maesters said that it was immensely exciting…more like a novel than a chronicle of history. Never mind the books right now, Tyrion. There are other gifts to open."

She grabbed both books from his eager hands and set them on the floor. She handed him another package to unwrap.

In short order, he unwrapped a leather and silk doublet embossed with a golden Lannister lion as well as a special cream from Pentos that was supposed to relieve muscle aches.

"It's made from the pulp of ghostblade cane," Sansa told him. "I heard you complain about your legs one day, and I thought this might bring you some relief."

He looked startled when she said that, and he blinked a few times before taking the last box from her hands. Though she knelt in the floor, she nearly danced on her knees with excitement when he pulled the paper from it.

"It's very heavy," said Tyrion, cocking an eyebrow at her in a way that he hadn't done in years.

Sansa squealed with impatience. "Open it! Open it before I open it for you!"

Tyrion laughed and raised the lid from the box. "My word," he breathed. "Is this what I think it is?"

Sansa nodded and helped him ease the large, flat rock from the box. "A fossilized baby dragon's leg and foot on a bed of loststone," she said proudly. "Look at the scales. Look at the talons. So much grace and power in one small limb. Don't you ache to know what colors its scales were?"

"It's perfect," said Tyrion. "It's absolutely perfect. I've never seen anything like it. I'll have to put it in a place where I can appreciate it always."

Sansa climbed up on the chaise beside him, not even trying to mask her excitement. "I imagine it was a male," she said. "With sparkling scales of crimson and gold, and eyes as green as emeralds."

"And with an appetite for sea dogs and land squires," said Tyrion. "How do you think it died?"

"Gallantly," said Sansa. "In a fight with a unicorn or a gryffin."

"Those never existed." Tyrion smiled.

"Well, I like believing in them," said Sansa stubbornly, and he laughed. She got up and went to their table. "I have your favorite wine here, and I had the kitchen make you some pastries."

"It's a bit late for me to eat," said Tyrion, "but I'll indulge in a glass of wine before we turn it."

"As my lord wishes," Sansa said with a smile as she poured his glass with a flourish.

Her heart danced. His green eyes had come alive in his face in a way that she'd feared was completely dead. He looked as though he was glad to be alive, and what was more, they were having fun. She hoped he noticed that: that life could be more than drudgery; that she was not his enemy; and that they could talk, laugh, and enjoy each other's company.

"It's a very fine vintage," said Sansa. "From the year 225 and said to be one of the Mad King's own bottles."

"Let's hope there's no wildfire in it," laughed Tyrion.

Sansa raised her goblet. "To my lord husband's thirtieth year," she said. "May it be happy, healthy, and prosperous."

He looked astonished again as he raised his goblet to hers. "Here, here," he said with a smile.

They drained their glasses, and he gave one last look at the pile of gifts on the chaise. "I'm going to hate to get up and leave tomorrow with all these fine riches here," he said reluctantly. "I don't recall the last time I was this excited about anything. I feel almost a boy again."

"Maybe they're a reason to come home a little earlier and enjoy yourself," said Sansa.

"Maybe," he said, sounding unsure of himself. He looked at the floor. "Shall we turn in?"

"Yes," Sansa agreed with another smile.

He ducked behind the divider and changed quickly into his nightshirt and climbed into bed beside her after putting out all the candles.

Sansa had begun to feel awkward, but just when she thought Tyrion had fallen asleep, his resonant voice echoed in the darkness.

"My nameday has never been celebrated in such splendid fashion. Thank you, Sansa."

"Oh, you're more than welcome," said Sansa immediately. "I'm just glad to find meaningful gifts for you. It wasn't an easy task, and no one at court was very helpful. Happy nameday."

"Good night, Sansa."

Sansa swallowed. Did she dare peck his cheek? No, that would be forward of her, and he was barely comfortable around her. She reached out in the darkness and caressed his shoulder gently.

"Good night, Tyrion," she echoed.

She felt the surprise in his body when she touched him. She turned hastily on her side away from him, and burrowing her face in her pillow with a happy smile on it, she went to sleep.