Sansa placed her hands on the smooth marble of the balcony to steady herself. She had been standing for hours now, watching Joffrey thank soldier after soldier, family after family, and the procession had been remarkably tedious, but she knew her part was coming up. Joffrey's pretty words made her sick. She had heard the whispers around court-that he had fled like a coward from the fight and it had been Tyrion who had led the charge and prevailed until Tywin had arrived with the Reach forces. Sansa looked out over the faces at court with disgust wondering if any of them had even thought of the man who had saved them all.

Poor Tyrion had still not woken. Sansa had visited the tower multiple times to see his progress, but each time there was no change. The little lion looked even smaller in the rickety bed that the small chamber had been equipped with. The rooms were nowhere near as nice as his old chamber in the Hand's rooms, but Tywin had been quick to occupy his spot and move his son into smaller, sparser rooms. She had taken to sitting in the uncomfortable chair next to the bed and reading aloud from the collection of books that had been kicked out of the Hand's chambers with the dwarf. She doubted that Tyrion could hear her, but it certainly made the time pass quicker.

It was too bad she didn't have a book today in court though. As the king made a grand show of announcing his grandfather, Sansa had to fight not to roll her eyes. Couldn't this just be over already? But she knew that before it could come to a closing, she would have a part to play. Cersei had come to her this morning and informed her of what was to come. Her cold hands had gripped her arm, nails digging into the skin.

"I will NOT have my son humiliated!"she had hissed in Sansa's ear. "Do you hear me? You will cry and simper and act as one should after being rejected by the king!"

Sansa had nodded obediently and had practiced all morning in the mirror her look of shock and sadness when Joffrey announced that he would end their betrothal. It had been hard to suppress the triumphant smile. I will be free of Joffrey. I will not have to kiss him, nor give him my maidenhead, nor bear him children. Let Margaery Tyrell have all that, poor girl. She had thought. Now, looking out over the balcony, she watched the brunette be ushered forward by her brother. The Tyrell girl was beautiful, no one could deny that. She was older than Sansa and her developed body was accentuated by a plunging neckline. Sansa glanced down at her own gown, to her only barely noticable curves, and almost chuckled at the sharp contrast. Everything about Margaery Tyrell was made to stand out in a crowd, while Sansa had made such an effort to blend in without being seen. Biting her lip to fight the smirk off her face at the girls obviously false words, she focused of the proceedings from down below. She forced her eyes to go wide in shock as the Tyrell's made their offer. Bile rose in her throat as Joffrey gallantly defending their betrothal, smirking up at her with gleaming eyes. Joffrey was always a fan of pageantry. Perhaps Margaery Tyrell would be a better actress than her.

Cersei had stepped in, all cold grace in her crimson gown and tightly braided hair. "Your Grace, your councillors beg you, for the good of the realm, set Sansa Stark aside-" her catlike green eyes flashed to Sansa on the balcony and narrowed. "The Lady Margaery will make you a far more suitable queen." She seemed to be satisfied by Sansa's reaction and turned back to her son. Sansa felt her knees go weak and her chest tighten in this tense moment.

Joffrey raised a hand and dramatically turned away from his mother. "I would like to heed the wishes of my people, mother, but I took a holy vow."

His words took the air out of her lungs. He couldn't take this back, could he? It would be just like Joffrey to spurn the wishes of the queen and Lord Tywin just to torture Sansa. She felt her eyes fill with real tears and she shut them tightly, praying to whatever God would listen to make Joffrey let her go. She missed the septon's logic under the pounding in her ears.

Please, please just agree. Let me go. Let me go. Let me go...

"The Gods are good!" her eyes snapped open and met with the gleaming green of the king. Like always, Joffrey was just toying with her. Drawing out the scene to make it as tense and dramatic as possible. The tears in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks in relief, though she hoped it looked like despair. Unable to keep the smile from her lips, she turned away from the balcony, pushing her way through the courtiers who looked on pityingly. If they only knew how happy she was...

As soon as she passed them, she allowed her mask to fall. A true smile came to her lips and in her relief she almost laughed. She walked with a lighter foot and thought to make her way to Tyrion's chamber. His comatose figure was the only one she could trust to share her glee. A voice behind her calling her name stopped her though and she slipped back on a forlorn face, turning to face the man.

"Lord Baelish" she greeted politely, yet sadly. Screaming in her head to contain her joy and obey Cersei's order.

"My Lady" his syrupy tone greeted. "I'm so sorry for your loss..."

"They're right," she gestured towards the crowd, who was now openly chanting for the Lady Margaery. "I'm not good enough for him-"

"Oh I wouldn't say that. You'll be good for plenty of things, Lady Sansa. He'll still enjoy beating you. And now that you're a woman, he'll enjoy you in other ways.." his words washed over her like ice water. They were spoken so casually and light-hearted, as if he were speaking about the weather, not her rape. She felt her breath come a little quicker as she begged her mind not to panic.

"But...but if he's not to marry me..."

"You think he'll let you go?" He looked at her mockingly and she cursed her foolishness. Of course Joffrey wouldn't allow her to return home. She was just as much a prisoner as before. Only now she wasn't the king's betrothed. She wouldn't have the title of queen to save her from scorn. Any children that would be forced in her belly would come out a bastard-not a prince or princess. Even in her despair, she didn't miss his eyes sliding over her form, making her shiver. "You look so much like your mother. She was a great friend of mine. For that reason I will help you. I can get you home..."

Sansa felt her muscles seize as fear washed over her. His words should be comforting and give her hope, but his appraising eyes did little to put her at ease. She wouldn't know what would happen to her in this man's hands. He looked as if he wanted to devour her. She instantly thought of Tyrion. If he woke, he wouldn't allow Joffrey to use her like Baelish might. He promised to protect her. She had to trust one person in the world, and that person would not be Petyr Baelish. Sansa forced herself to stand tall and paint a smile on her face.

"Kingslanding is my home." She put as much enthusiasm in her words as was possible after her dreams of escape were crushed.

Baelish returned her smile with one just as false before placing his hand on her shoulder, turning her back to face the court. "Look around you, my lady" his warm breath tickled her neck as he whispered in her ear. "We're all liars here. And all better than you." And with that he squeezed her shoulder one last time and walked away.

A/N: Sorry about the delay! With everything going on in America lately I've been a little distracted. Hope you all enjoy! Please review!