So, Sansa is back. I enjoyed very much to write this one.

And Varys is in it, playing a role that was undertook by a character in the books who doesn't appear in the show. Too bad, I liked this guy.

SANSA II

It was a beautiful day. Sansa had put on a simple but gorgeous gown, one that was grey, the color of her family. Shae was brushing her hair, braiding it in the northern way so that it may all fall behind her shoulders. Sansa was looking at her reflection in the glass, hoping it would show nothing inappropriate. She didn't want to look bad in any way for today.

As Shae took care of her hair, Sansa's mind wandered to the last month. Her first month of marriage. If it could be called a marriage. She guessed it was, even though it lacked a lot of things she believed a marriage should be made of. She remembered how desperate she was when Tyrion announced her they were going to marry. Tyrion's attempts to explain to her he didn't wish it either didn't help, and Margaery's words barely allowed her to see things from a better view. Sansa didn't want to be married to a Lannister, even less to have children with him. I don't want to have children with Tyrion.

The first week had been laborious. Tyrion's attempts at supper to speak with her were pointless. What did he want her to tell him? He never mistreated her, of course, he was much less horrible than most of his family, but he still was a Lannister. The family who killed her father, who fought her brother. Afraid of what she should say, she hid behind her courtesies as always. She remained a little bird, always singing the same song. That irritated her husband who always abandoned after two or three questions. But what was the most distressing were the nights. Tyrion swore he wouldn't share her bed as long as she didn't want, but she didn't want to believe him. Many people once made promises to her and most of the time they didn't respect them. So the first night she waited, unable to sleep. She didn't want to sleep. She would rather be awaken when he would come to claim his rights on her. She didn't believe he would refuse to bed her forever and go celibate. That seemed so unlikely from a man with nocturnal activities such as his.

She remained awaken this very night, but acted as if she was sleeping, opening her eyes only enough to see him through the dim light of the moon and the remaining candles. She nearly jumped when the door opened silently, but she stayed calm, controlling her breath so she would look asleep. Tyrion had walked to the couch and then had started to disrobe. Sansa never saw a naked man before. That was so improper. The rhythm of her heart accelerated in a second. It was pounding. He's going to do it. All his promises, they are only words. He will force me to do it. Such had been her thoughts then. But to her great surprise he did nothing. He only put on other clothes for the night and laid on the couch, just like on their wedding night.

It was the same thing each night. Tyrion came lately, Sansa thought he would do the deed and he didn't. And each time she would think he would consummate the marriage the next night. On the fourth night, Sansa was tired of looking away when he took off his clothes. One day or another he would ask her to perform her duties as his wife, so it was better to know how he looked under his garments before. So she looked at him and got for the first time a sight of a naked man. Well, not entirely naked, he never pulled off his breeches. But still, that was something new for Sansa. She couldn't see much details in the dim light, but it was still enough for her to see something. He wasn't slender like all the Lannisters seemed to be, nor big, but he seemed to have a few muscles. Sansa found it strange for a man who spent his days reading and writing. Perhaps it was only his small frame that gave Sansa this impression. He always turned his back to her. Sansa found he wasn't as ugly as he seemed to be this way in the dark. Good. I only have to ask him to stay back to me and in the dark as we do it. That was what Sansa thought at this moment.

After a week of waiting for him each night and seeing him undress, Sansa decided he would keep his word for now. She needed more sleep. So she calmed and allowed herself to have peaceful nights. Up to now, it didn't prove to be a mistake. Tyrion never touched her, she was still a maiden and she slept well most of the nights. Sometimes she would wake up after a bad dream and find Tyrion already left for his duties as Master of Coin or reading. He didn't seem to sleep much. There was a dream that particularly haunted her. The same dream she did on her wedding night, where her family was present and she was marrying Ser Loras Tyrell. And the bard who always told her the same thing. Life is a song. And yours is just about to begin. She hated it. The dream reminded her of things she couldn't have anymore. But it kept coming, always the same, so often that she could now remind every detail of it. It came every night during the first week, every two or three days now.

However, despite Sansa's unhappiness for her marriage, she had come to find some balance in it. Her only real contacts with Tyrion were for the evening meal. She would spend the rest of the day praying in the godswood, at the sept, doing needlework or reading. Sometimes she would go to spend time with Margaery, but her friend was more and more occupied with the preparations for her wedding, so she had much less time to offer to Sansa. She would have liked to spend more time with Lady Mira, she was a Northerner after all, to know her better, but as Margaery's handmaiden she was as occupied as her mistress and it wouldn't do for Sansa either to forge a close friendship with another lady's servant. There was Shae, but she had to carry out her duties first. And strangely Shae was more distant with her lately. Sansa didn't know why.

What made the situation much more bearable was that she didn't despise or fear her time with Tyrion anymore. After she accepted he wouldn't bed her in the near future, Sansa decided she could be more opened with him. What facilitated her task was that he began to bring her news of her family during the second week. Tyrion told her that he was only informing her about the progress of the war anyway, that she didn't have to ask him anything about her family so it wouldn't look as if she worried about them. She had to admit she felt grateful for that. This way she was informed of any event Joffrey or Cersei could use to disturb her eventually. Tyrion also started to tell her how he thought the war was going and which side was at an advantage. He sincerely seemed to believe her brother wasn't yet defeated and could still hold a long time against his father, perhaps even take back the advantage in the war if he won another battle. Sansa wanted to believe it, though she didn't say it. Strangely, she thought Tyrion really believed what he told her. After Lancel Lannister lied before the court that her brother slaughtered an entire army with dark magic and wolves, Tyrion had come to tell her what really happened during the Battle of Oxcross. He also had told her then that her marriage with Joffrey would never take place with everything that happened between their families and that he would send her away as soon as her brother would bend the knee. She hadn't believed him at this moment, but now she thought he had been telling her the truth. His behaviour didn't show in any way that it had been his will to marry her.

To be honest, Sansa enjoyed her rare time with her husband now. She was alone for such a long time during the day that their discussion during supper were now the most interesting moments of the day. Between the news he brought her, his jokes on his family and his complaints about the realm's finances and the cost of the royal wedding, it nearly became a pleasant moment. Sansa didn't laugh at his jokes on Cersei, Joffrey and his father, nor on any of the other members of the government, but sometimes she allowed herself to smile at them and to laugh internally. She couldn't mock the Lannister family openly, but no one could blame her when her husband did it. Sometimes she would say Tyrion wasn't to mock the king or the queen, but then he would make another jape on it. He knew Sansa didn't mean what she said. It was some sort of a game. Tyrion laughing at everyone while Sansa, still wearing her armor, would falsely defend them, when most of the time she agreed with Tyrion's comments. It was refreshing to hear someone mock and point out every flaw of the people who caused so much pain to her family. And when Tyrion would mock himself (and he did it a lot), Sansa couldn't help but laugh, even if she only did it a little. After a few times, she had understood there was nothing to fear to laugh from someone's joke on himself.

Sansa had come to appreciate Tyrion's company. Sometimes he really seemed to care about her and to wish to help her. It was very possible he was sincere, he had helped her more than once before. But she didn't want to become too much close to him. It could turn bad. She kept her distance. She still couldn't trust him, but it didn't forbid her to enjoy the time spent with him. She needed someone to talk to, even if it was only about trivial things. There were worse choices than her husband for that.

But today was a special day. She and Tyrion would take a walk together in the gardens. Perhaps she shouldn't feel as if it was so special, but her days had become so dull that she relished the idea to simply walk and talk with someone. Tyrion told her it was only to show the other people their marriage wasn't inert. And they needed to show it since everyone knew they slept in separate beds. Well, not really separate beds since Tyrion was sleeping on a couch. Sansa wondered if it was comfortable. One time she thought perhaps she should allow him to sleep in the same bed than her, but she didn't feel comfortable about the idea of him in her bed, even if it was only for sleeping and they wore nightclothes. She didn't trust him about it. Not yet.

She decided however to prepare herself the best she could. She had to show she tried to be the most beautiful woman for her husband. People had to believe it. And it didn't bother her so much to do it for her husband anyway, it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it in some way. Sansa's state was much better since she was married. Joffrey hadn't dared to bother her a single time since the wedding feast. Perhaps the gelding threat had some dissuasive effect finally. Even Cersei stayed a little farther from Sansa. And Tywin Lannister had never bothered her before and didn't change his habits. Perhaps her husband was for something in that. She had to be grateful for that at least.

Shae finally put down the brush on the table before Sansa. She was done with her hair. Sansa then raised for Shae to adjust her gown the best way possible. Shae tightened the laces so much the first time that Sansa grunted. "Shae, let me some place to breath."

"Sorry my lady." Shae didn't look very sincere in her apology. Sansa wondered what she had done for her handmaiden to become so cold with her in the last days.

Shae readjusted the gown more properly and Sansa felt comfortable this way. As she finished, the door opened and Podrick went inside the room. Sansa liked Podrick. He was so shy. He always flushed when she looked at him and always was very kind. She found it hard to believe he was of the same family than Ser Ilyn Payne. People in Tyrion's service weren't bad. Even his sellsword's personal guard, Bronn, was funny most of the time… if we could appreciate his humor, which wasn't always the case. Still, he was better than Meryn Trant or Boros Blount.

"My lady," said the boy as he looked at his feet. "Lord Tyrion is waiting for you at the gardens."

"Thank you Podrick." She granted him a smile, which turned the squire's head red as a tomato.

As Sansa went to leave the room, Shae called her. "Do you want me to come, my lady?"

Sansa didn't need Shae, but agreed all the same. "Yes, you may." Her handmaiden followed her. With the dark mood Shae had towards her recently, Sansa thought it was better to do something for her. She didn't want to lose one of the few friends she had here.

When they reached the entrance of the gardens Tyrion was there, talking with Lord Varys. They turned in Sansa's direction as she arrived with Shae. "My lady, you're beautiful today," Tyrion greeted her.

"Thank you, my lord." She turned towards the Master of Whispererers. "Lord Varys," she said, courteous as always. Courtesies are a lady's armor.

"Lady Sansa." The eunuch bowed his head, speaking with his soft voice. "It is a pleasure to see you again. But I don't want to disturb you and your husband. I wish you a good day." He bowed deeply again and walked away.

Sansa didn't know what to make of the man. She was wary of him. He seemed so mysterious. Strangely some of his ways reminded her of Lord Baelish. He never did anything against her, but never helped her either. She only remembered that he said perhaps there was wisdom with her words when she pleaded for her father's life before Joffrey. But he never lifted a finger when her father was arrested or beheaded, nor when she was beaten by Joffrey's Kingsguards. There was however one thing that troubled her most of all. It was the discussion she had with him at her wedding.

When Sansa had left the dais where she stood with Tyrion during the feast, vexed by his drunken behaviour, Lord Varys had intercepted her. He complimented and congratulated her for her marriage, saying he was sure she would be happy and have many children with her husband. Sansa had hidden behind her courtesies, saying she hoped she wouldn't disappoint or shame Lord Tyrion, considering she came from a family of traitors. It was easy for her to sing this song now, she had done it for such a long time. However, the next words of the bald man surprised her. She still recalled the entire conversation.

"I know this isn't the marriage you wanted, my lady." His expression had turned apologetic, sad. "You don't have to deny it nor to confirm it, I know this is the truth. I am not the Master of Whisperers for nothing. We cannot be happy when we marry someone whose family is in war against our own. And I know you wanted to marry Ser Loras. But I think you deserve the truth." He had made a small pause before continuing. "You wouldn't have been happy with Ser Loras, I'm afraid. We must not always judge people by their appearances or even the way they act publicly. Lord Tyrion may not seem to be quite a good match, especially right now." He had given a mixed look in Tyrion's direction at this time. Sansa didn't have to turn her head, she knew what the man meant. "But, in your situation, I think it may probably be the best thing that could happen to you. Lord Tyrion is never going to hurt you, nor to let anyone hurt you, and he will do everything into his power to make you happy, however difficult it may be. He is a bigger man than he seems. A very small man can cast a very large shadow."

Sansa hadn't known how to answer it. She had only thanked Lord Varys and taken leave of him, climbing the stairs. She had been deep into her thoughts about what he said as she walked away, but then Joffrey appeared from nowhere, threatening to rape her on her wedding night, and she forgot everything. Now however, she wondered if Lord Varys had been sincere when he told her Tyrion would be a good husband. She thought about everything that happened since they were married. Perhaps Lord Varys wasn't entirely wrong. Tyrion didn't prove to be a bad husband up to now.

"So, my lady, are you ready?" Tyrion's words got her out of her reflections.

"Yes, my lord."

"Time to make a show of us in front of the whole nobility of Westeros," Tyrion said as they started to walk into the gardens. Sansa had to laugh about it. It was true they were quite an odd pair. She was probably two feet taller than Tyrion. And her husband wasn't good looking as her. Though when she thought about it again, she had to admit perhaps she had found Tyrion ugly more because he was a Lannister and a dwarf. She had to admit Margaery was right about one thing: his scar made him more handsome.

They walked silently through the gardens, not talking very much. They enjoyed the fresh air of the afternoon. Sansa caught a few people staring at them with disapproval or smirks. She didn't care about it anymore. She had time to get used to it ever since the war began, and she would rather face people laughing at her in her back than Joffrey's wrath for whatever petty reason he could find. At one moment however, there were two men who passed beside them. She heard them laughing when they were behind. From their clothes, they seemed to be from the Westerlands. Sansa acted as if they didn't exist, but Tyrion started to mutter something.

"Ser Eldrick Sarsfield and Lord Desmond Crakehall. Ser Eldrick Sarsfield and Lord Desmond Crakehall." It was the names of the two men.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I have a list."

For a moment Sansa was afraid. "A list of people you mean to kill?" Was she married to a man who would murder people for so few?

"For laughing at me? Do I look like Joffrey to you?" Tyrion looked half insulted and half amused. Sansa relaxed. "No, death seems a bit extreme. Fear of death, on the other hand…"

"You should learn to ignore them." It was useless to remember everyone who laughed at you when you couldn't get a revenge on them. That was a vain hope. The worse ones always lived.

"My lady, people have been laughing at me far longer than they've been laughing at you. I'm the Halfman, the Demon Monkey, the Imp."

"You're a Lannister. I am the disgraced daughter of the traitor Ned Stark."

"The disgraced daughter and the Demon Monkey. We're perfect for each other."

Sansa had to chuckle. It was true. What a joke their marriage was, and yet it seemed gods conspired to bring two people mocked by everyone together. It was better to laugh at it than to pity it. Though she also reflected what Tyrion said was true. He was no traitor, he held an important position in the government, but people were mocking him all the same. They would never do it openly in Lord Tywin's presence, the Hand of the King didn't seem to be one that would allow one of his children, as much as he hated him, to be mocked publicly in front of him. Otherwise he wouldn't have started a war for a son he despised. People laughed at Sansa since her family were branded traitors, but before she was respected by everyone as the eldest daughter of the Warden of the North. Tyrion was mocked ever since he was born. And he wasn't even mocked because of his actions or his family's doings, but because of what he looked like. Something he never chose. Sansa felt a pang in her heart for Tyrion at this moment. Perhaps she should make a list too, only to subtly mock the people who laughed at her when the moment was appropriate. That could be funny.

"So, how should we punish them?" she asked to her husband on a fake serious tone.

"Who? Whom?"

"Ser Eldrick Sarsfield and Lord Desmond Crakehall."

"Ah. I could speak to Lord Varys and learn their perversions. Anyone named Desmond Crakehall must be a pervert." He didn't look much more serious than her.

"I hear that you're a pervert."

"I am the Imp. I have certain standards to maintain." Sansa chuckled again. As always, he was laughing at himself. But she had a better idea to punish the two men. Something she experienced in Winterfell thanks to Arya. She went to a bench, sat to be at Tyrion's level and began to speak on a conspiratorial tone.

"Or we could sheep shift Lord Desmond's bed." Tyrion looked perplexed. Good, he won't know what I'm about to suggest. "You cut a little hole in his mattress and you stuff sheep dung inside. Then you sew up the hole and make his bed again. His room will stink, but he won't know where it's coming from." That was very unladylike, just like Sansa's sister. Sansa knew she would never do that, but it was funny to imagine she would do it.

"Lady Sansa!" her husband exclaimed with a false indignant voice. After a month, she knew when Tyrion was being serious and when he wasn't.

"My sister used to do that when she was angry with me. And she was always angry with me." She didn't see anything evil about telling this to Tyrion. That's not as if she was giving any sensitive information about her family to a Lannister. She still didn't trust him, but it didn't mean she couldn't enjoy his company or laugh with him about unimportant things. It was tiring to be always reserved and silent.

"Why sheepshift?" He didn't seem to understand what she meant.

Leaning forward to speak very lowly, she said "That's the vulgar word for dung." She found it odd that Tyrion wouldn't know what it meant. He had such a crude language, Sansa had to get used to it since their wedding.

Tyrion seemed uncomfortable suddenly. He even seemed to glance at Shae for an instant, which meant a lot. Tyrion wasn't in very good terms with Sansa's handmaiden and could never remember her name. "My lady…" He was hesitant, but also smiling, as if something was amiss in all that. For a man who didn't care about using vulgar words…

"Well, you asked me."

Tyrion's squire appeared on their left at this moment, running.

"My lord, my lady. Your father has called a meeting of the small council." Sansa wouldn't have thought a month ago that she would regret to not spend more time with Tyrion, but right now she did.

"Oh, this means bad news probably." Tyrion turned to her. "I'm sorry my lady, the Hand is calling me." He really looked sorry. As was Sansa. "Sheila?" Sansa had to sigh again. No matter how many times he would hear it, Tyrion never remembered Shae's name.

"Shae." Her handmaiden responded in an even darker mood than usual when Tyrion made that mistake.

"Could you accompany back Lady Sansa to her chambers. You too Pod, I think I can find my way tothe Tower of the Hand alone." He turned to Sansa once again. "I'll come back for supper. It shouldn't be too long." Sansa hoped so too. She smiled at her husband and raised from the bench. She left in one direction with Shae and Podrick while Tyrion took the other one. At least, there will still be the supper. Perhaps I can make it last longer than usual. It was a beautiful day and she didn't want Tywin Lannister to ruin it with politics or finances.

When they got back to her chambers Sansa sent Shae and Podrick away. Both surely had duties somewhere else anyway. She wanted to be alone until Tyrion came back. She went to his desk and looked at the books on it. A week ago Sansa had started to read some books of her husband. There were so much that she had the impression she had more choice than when she was at Winterfell. Sansa liked to read. In fact, among her brothers and sister, she was the one would could read and write the better. She remembered all the hours she spent reading stories about knights and beautiful ladies. Then she would wait for her friend Jeyne Poole to finish her own book. Jeyne always read slower than her. Sometimes Sansa would find some passage of a story so marvellous that she talked about it immediately to her friend. Jeyne was always angry about that because she wasn't yet there and Sansa had stolen her the joy of reading it. The thought made Sansa sad. She hadn't seen her friend for so long. Her father was killed along with the rest of her father's household when he was arrested. Jeyne was probably dead now, killed with everyone else when Winterfell was burnt by the ironborn. And to think Jeyne once had eyes for Theon… Sansa chased the memory. She didn't want to be sad, not today.

She looked at the book Tyrion had read two weeks ago. It was a book on economics written by Archmaester Maynard. At the first page the author claimed to be born Jon Keynes. Sansa had never heard of a House Keynes before. A few days ago she had only read a page she randomly chose and decided she wouldn't like the reading. It talked of things she couldn't understand, something called a "liquidity trap." Sansa always was the best in their studies with master Luwin, but when it came to numbers and ledgers she couldn't manage it. Perhaps because she thought it to be useless and boring. Writing could help her for love letters, reading for reading the same letters, singing to please other people, needlework to show other people how she could make beautiful things, but how would she impress anyone with numbers? Arya always was better than her with them. There was no art in numbers. Now she thought perhaps she had been wrong. Singing, needlework, dancing, dressing, writing and reading seemed rather useless here in King's Landing. She should have been taught politics, to be prepared to the real world like Margaery. And seeing how the finances of the realm were exhausting Tyrion, numbers didn't seem as useless as before. She only learned to be a perfect lady. How stupid she had been, to imagine life was a song. How useful what I have learned has been.

Tyrion didn't read much fairy tales, his books were all about serious subjects, but to be honest Sansa was no more in the mood for her ancient passions. Instead she chose a book she had started yesterday. Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History. It was quite fascinating to learn about fantastic things that disappeared long ago. She sat on the bed and began to read. She hadn't read for more than five minutes when the door opened and Margaery erupted into the room.

"Margaery!" Sansa was so glad to see her again. It had been more than a week since the last time they spoke.

"Sansa." There was something strange in the way her friend looked at her. She walked quickly toward Sansa and strongly hugged her. "Sansa, I'm so sorry."

Sansa broke her embrace. "Sorry about what?" She didn't understand.

Margaery looked at her with big eyes. "You don't know?" Her friend deeply sighed. "I thought Tyrion would have told you."

"Tell me about what?" There was no sense to what Margaery was saying. She acted as if something terrible had happened.

"Please sit Sansa. I must tell you something." Sansa sat on the bed again, feeling uneasy. What could have happened for Margaery to be so troubled? Margaery sat on her left. Her face was full of sadness. She took some time before she began to speak. "Sansa, you knew your uncle Edmure was supposed to marry the daughter of Lord Frey?"

"Yes, Tyrion told me weeks ago. Did something happen? Was the marriage aborted?" If it was the case, that was very bad news. This marriage was the last chance for her brother if he wanted to win the war.

"No, the marriage took place." Sansa felt relieved for a time. But then, what had Margaery in such a state? "But it was a trap."

In a few sentences Margaery told her what happened. And Sansa's world collapsed.

So, I guess everyone knows what Margaery told Sansa. Sorry for those who hoped Robb and Catelyn Stark would survive. As I wrote at the beginning of my fic, my story follows the show until an event near Joffrey's wedding changes the whole story.

Please review

Next chapter: Tyrion