Tyrion woke to a heavenly smell and a bad hangover. His head pounded and he pushed his face further into his pillows. A small clatter had him forcing his eyes open and he caught sight of a handmaiden across the way placing a tray of fruits on the table. The girl glanced towards the bed and Tyrion waved her away silently. She dipped into a curtsy before heading back out the door, closing it loudly behind her. Tyrion winced at the sound and rolled back over, finally facing the other occupant on the bed.
Sansa had clearly been woken by the careless maid and it looked like she was also in a bit of pain. The auburn beauty had her eyes shut tightly and one hand laying over her face. Tyrion swallowed hard at the sight of her. Sansa was absolutely stunning when she was all put together around court. She always looked the perfect maiden with her elaborately coiffed hair and elegant gowns. But Tyrion had to say that he much preferred the Sansa that he saw now. Her beautiful copper hair was splayed out over the pillow rustled from sleep and her soft, cotton nightgown looked more comfortable than those tight gown she wore around court. When she opened her eyes, they were still hazy and her cheeks were flushed a lovely shade of pink. She turned to look at him and her smile had him instantly hardening. Ignoring his treasonous body, he quickly wished her a good morning before fleeing the sheets. He threw on a dressing robe of his own and made his way towards the fruit the girl had left. He threw a few grapes in his mouth, willing his cock to obey him and stand down.
He heard shuffling behind him and soon Sansa was across from him, filling a plate with bits of melon. He watched her for a few moments. She didn't look like she regretted the peace they had found with each other last night. In fact, she was acting as if this whole situation was completely normal. She had smiled at him when she had woken up, for gods sakes. He knew he had made the right decision by giving her some time before consummation. He frowned at the thought that his father would very quickly take that control away from him though. He couldn't stop his mind from returning to another girl he had called wife and what his father had done to her... He looked back to the sweet maiden before him. No...he would not allow his father to do anything like that again.
His eyes zeroed in on the knife on the platter and before he knew it, the knife was in his hand. Sansa, jumping from his sudden movement, looked up at him, shocked and confused.
"My lord-? she questioned, but he was already making his way to the bed. He jerked up the sleeve of his tunic, exposing a scabbed over cut that was still healing from the Blackwater. He pressed the tip of the blade onto the scab and winced as it slipped easily into his skin. "Tyrion!" Sansa screeched, running from her seat to his side, gripping his arm and pulling the knife away from the wound. "What are you doing?!"
"My father will send someone to come collect the sheets, Sansa" he growled determinedly, holding the dripping cut above the space she had just a moment ago been occupying. "He'll expect this."
Sansa sighed exasperatedly and ran to a chest of her clothes that had been sent here. Throwing it open, she rummaged for just a moment before returning with some cloth. She quickly yanked his arm towards her and started wrapping the cut.
"You want them thinking you raped me?" She said heatedly, distracted by trying to dress his wound. "Hm?" she glared at him and he opened his mouth to respond before she cut him off. "It's not true and I don't want anyone thinking it." Satisfied with her care, she went to the table, coming back with the pitcher of drinking water. She made to pour it on the sprinkle of blood, but Tyrion snatched it out of her hands. She glared at him and heat crackled between them before Tyrion took a deep breath, setting the pitcher down.
"You don't know my father, Sansa." he tried a different approach. "I would rather the whole of court think I'm a rapist than allow him to turn me into one." The lightheartedness of the morning had disappeared and Sansa's lovely cheeks had blanched. She sat on the bed beside him and didn't stop him when he undid her careful bandage. He pressed the clotting wound to the sheets until he was satisfied with the stain. He did hold it back out to her once finished and let her redress it. Her fingers worked quickly and efficiently and Tyrion's stomach dropped at the thought she probably had to practice on her own bandages. When she finished he took her hand and squeezed it, passing along thanks and an apology. She smiled slightly at him, accepting both, before they both returned to their breakfast.
Just as he thought, about an hour later an unfamiliar handmaiden came to the room to collect the laundry. Tyrion and Sansa had begun a game of Cyvasse and Sansa had met his eyes subtlety as the woman began pulling the sheets off the bed. Her back was to the woman, but Tyrion had a perfect view as the woman turned down the sheets, pausing slightly at the stain. Pleased that she looked fooled, he bit a smile but nodded slightly to his new bride, who looked relieved.
The handmaid left with her arms full and when the door closed behind her, Tyrion heard Sansa let out a breath. He patted her arm gently, rubbing small circles on her soft skin with his thumb.
"It's going to be okay, Sansa. I will protect you. From them all."
She nodded at him and Tyrion was glad to see some color returning to her face.
They spent the rest of the morning playing Cyvasse, Tyrion just barely beating her, before he had to leave her. He had put off work long enough and with the royal wedding coming up, he couldn't afford to take the whole day off. He kissed her hand as he left though, and hoped he hadn't imagined the hint of a blush on her pretty cheeks.