Tyrion

Three days later, Sansa wasn't getting on well with the carriage they were taking. She looked pale, and every bump in the road made her feel queasy. "Please, can't I just ride a horse?" she asked him on the third day past Kings Landing. "I can't bear this."

"We don't have a side saddle," he said.

"I don't need one," she said simply. "I can ride a horse properly." She shrugged. "You can't control a horse properly with a side saddle anyway."

He thought about it, but then thought there wasn't much danger in letting her ride. He rapped the door twice, bringing them to a stop. "Yes, m'lord?"

"My wife would like to ride a horse. Find her one." There was a slight pause, but then the guard went off, looking for a suitable mount. They had about thirty guards, and several carts carrying their household items, and things that Tywin wanted sent back to Casterly. Soon, a brown horse was found.

"Sorry, m'lord, but there's no side saddle for m'lady."

"There's no need," she said, stepping out of the carriage. She let a guard give her a boost into the saddle then sighed happily. She took up the reins in her hand and Tyrion watched as she got used to the horse, racing ahead for almost a mile as a couple of guards scrambled to catch up to her, before she turned and rode backwards towards them. Tyrion smiled at her obvious pleasure in being free to ride, her hair streaming out in a red banner behind her. She looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. Free and happy.

"Shall we move on then?" Tyrion said, keeping the curtain drawn back so he could watch his wife ride.

As they moved on, Bron came to his side, trotting at the same speed as the carriage. He watched Tyrion's eye line, watching Sansa Stark riding. "She looks good on a horse," Bron said casually.

"She's radiant," Tyrion replied, before he could stop himself.

Sansa

Would this road never end? They'd been one days travel away from Casterly Rock for three days now. But the weather was bad and they barely made any progress at all. Because of the sleet and the rain, she'd been unable to ride a horse and had been stuck in the carriage. There were certain things she could get away with, being Lady Lannister, but riding a horse in the freezing rain wasn't one of them. Not to mention it being uncomfortable anyway.

But this carriage journey was going to be the death of her. Every sway of the road made her stomach roll, and she'd been sick countless times. On the third morning of this terrible weather, they'd barely travelled a mile before she opened the door and vomited. She felt Tyrion's hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles as she emptied her stomach. He passed her a water skin and she rinsed her mouth out.

"When are we going to get there?" she asked desperately. "We've been less than a days ride away for three days. I'm feeling like I'm falling apart."

He looked at her and she knew what he'd be seeing. Her white face and bloodless lips. The fact she'd not been able to keep any food down in days. He knew she was serious. Tyrion rapped on the door of the carriage and Sansa moaned as it swayed to a stop.

"M'lord?" a guard asked.

"I need a quill, ink, parchment and Bron." Tyrion said firmly. "And my wife's warmest furs."

It took a good ten minutes for him to get what he wanted, and he started writing a note, even though the hammering rain made everything damp and the ink smudge.

"Get warm," he said to her. She wrapped herself up in her furs and sighed with relief as he signed the note and handed it to Bron.

"I want you to take her on your fastest horse to Casterly Rock," Tyrion told his sellsword. "It'll take merely an hour if you're on your own and racing there. It'll be all day in the train, we're moving so slowly. My wife is cold and ill."

"Will do," Bron said cheerfully, in spite of the rain that lashed down on him.

"Bron, I want no harm to come to her," he said forcefully. "If you were not my friend, I wouldn't trust you with this. With her."

"All right, don't worry yourself," Bron said. "The little lady will be safe with me."

"If she's not, I will cut your throat. I like you, so I won't make your death a long drawn out affair."

"Don't threaten your friends when you're asking them favours," Bron said. He smiled at Tyrion for a moment. "She'll be safe. Trust me."

"The note will help if you run into trouble on the road. I don't think you will, this deep in Lannister country, but just in case." Bron nodded, waiting for Sansa to leave.

"You'll be more comfortable," Tyrion said to her. "One hour and you can be in a feather bed."

"Won't you come with us?" she asked, not wanting to be parted from him.

"I can't ride a normal saddle," he admitted. "I don't have my modified one with me and the horse won't be able to bear the weight of all three of us. Even when the third is small like me. And the carriage doesn't make me violently ill, the way it does you."

"You'll be with me soon?" she asked.

"We're not far now. I think the train will be there by nightfall at the latest," he said.

"Okay." She kissed him deeply and fervently, and he responded to her embrace. They parted after Bron cleared his throat to try and get their attention. She put the hood of her cloak up and stepped out of the carriage into the rain, letting Bron help her onto the horse.

She turned to him and smiled slightly. "Come home, my lord."

"I will," he said.

"See you at dinner," Bron said lightly, before giving his horse a smack on the rump and galloping off.

"We can get going!" Tyrion called to the guard. The train slowly picked up pace, inching its way towards the Rock.

Bron

It's a relief to be able to ride at full speed throughout the fields. The horse seems to enjoy it too, eager to move on from the snail of the Lannister escort. They'd been travelling for a total of ten days now, and he'd noticed that after the first flush of freedom, that Sansa didn't do well with travel, especially in inclement weather. She needed to lie down on a bed, somewhere that didn't move, and he knew it.

Even tired and ill as she was, he knew that she was a good horsewoman. Her legs kept tightening and relaxing on the horse by instinct, even though he was in control. Her gloved hand kept pulling on an invisible rein to try and control the horse. A child didn't do that. An accomplished horsewoman did.

Bron knew that the relationship between Lady Sansa and Tyrion had developed, and he also knew how much Tyrion valued her. And not just for title and her claim to the kingdom of the North. No, he valued her for her. Mind you, Bron thought, judging by the feel of her arse against him, he didn't blame Lord Tyrion one bit.

The road went uphill, and he knew this was the last climb, the cliff top climb to Casterly Rock. He'd never been here exactly, but he'd been around these parts. He knew the Rock was a fortress, high on the cliff top. He could smell the salt of the sea, so they had to be close.

"That's Casterly Rock?" Sansa said, her voice holding surprise. The building was massive, looking exactly like a fortress. It looked higher than the red keep, and if you took into account the cliff top it was on, it might be half as high as the wall itself. It was a light bricked building, looking a bit grim in the rain and the fog. But still spectacular.

"Well it don't look like a tavern now, does it?" Bron said easily. "We'll get you dry soon, m'lady. Come on," he added to the horse, urging him up the slope. Soon they were at the gateway, shaped like a massive lions head. The gateway was the mouth, which was barred and heavily manned.

"Who goes there?!" two guards asked.

"I'm bringing Lady Sansa Lannister home," Bron said, trying to be polite. "We're cold, tired and would like some shelter. His lordship, Lord Tyrion sent us ahead of the train." Bron handed the note which was quickly read by the guard.

"Open the gate!" the guard commanded instantly. It opened quickly, and the guard apologised. "Sorry m'lady," he said. "We can never be too careful in these times. Welcome to the Rock, Sansa Lannister."

Next instalment will be delayed by a few days I'm afraid. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter.