Sansa waited patiently as her handmaid tightened the belt around her waist. She glanced in the mirror and was glad to see whatever bruises Joffrey had left had faded. Her skin was once again milky white and flawless. She tilted her face to one side and deemed herself beautiful enough for today. She'd have to have a polished veneer protecting her if she was going to survive her first trip to court after the massacre of her family. She took a deep breath and sent the handmaid a slight smile, dismissing her. Once alone, she fought to keep herself calm. She took a deep breath and tried to pick up her sewing. Tyrion would be there any moment to escort her to the throne room. He had been adamant that it could wait until she was truly ready to face those snakes, not wanting to push her. She had been forever grateful for that mercy as well as the many that he had extended to her the past two weeks. But she knew that Joffrey, the queen, the hand, and all of the court would be less merciful. The longer she shut herself away the worse it would be for her. She managed to get through the days without shedding a single tear now and that had to be enough.
Unable to sit still with her nerves, she put away her embroidery. She didn't want to mar it with half hearted stitches. Margaery's gift was almost complete and she wanted to make sure she was gifting the future queen with perfection. Thinking about her friend made her frown and turn towards the vanity where the broken box lay. Sighing heavily, she set aside her project and observed the splintered wood.
Tyrion had noticed her remorseful glances towards the gift last week and had pried the information out of her. He had immediately sent the hairnet to a jeweler in flea bottom that he swore by. He promised her that it would be repaired in time for the royal wedding. Still, observing the lovely wooden box had Sansa sad that Joffrey's attack had hurt such a precious item to her. Margaery had grown into such a dear friend to her-the only true one in kings landing other than Tyrion, and the hairnet had obviously meant a lot to the future queen. Sansa shook the worries from her head. She had much bigger worries to deal with today and she trusted Tyrion to have the net back, fixed in time. Margaery would never have to know.
The door behind her slammed and Sansa visibly jumped at the sound. She whipped around, panicked. Seeing her small, bashful looking husband did little to calm her racing heart. He cursed under his breath and approached her cautiously. "Sansa, forgive me. The door is heavier than it looks..." She nodded urging herself to relax. She gave him a tight smile before turning back to the mirror for one last check. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" He asked softly, and she met his eyes in the glass. "I can't promise that the king won't say anything to you. In front of the court I can't threaten to geld him..."
Sansa smiled at her courageous friend and shook her head slowly. "I'll have to go back sometime. I've had plenty of time to steel myself for this. I'll be okay. I thank you for your concern." Tyrion rolled his eyes at her courtesies. She knew he hated when she used practiced words with him. She had become much better at speaking freely with him, but in moments like this...times of uncertainty, her old habits flared. Still, the dwarf did not comment on it. He pulled the door open again and held it for her. They walked together towards the throne room, Chella following lazily. Sansa moved gracefully, yet slow enough for her stunted husband to keep up. Tyrion peppered her with idle gossip as they neared court, but Sansa wasn't truly listening. She was mentally preparing for the worst. She was sure that as soon as Joffrey saw her, there would be little said other than the destruction of house Stark. She would have to keep a straight face and nod politely-agreeing that it was a just end to a traitorous family. There could be no tears or even anger today. She must be the ice maiden again. She stole a glance down at the man beside her and sent a prayer to the gods for sending her just one person she could be herself with. She didn't know how she could survive if she were alone.
They approached the heavy set of doors and Tyrion gave her one last glance. One last chance to return to the safety of their rooms. But they couldn't turn back now. She nodded slightly and he pushed them open, revealing them to the gathered courtiers. Instantly, there was a hush throughout the crowd as the lords and ladies took in their appearance. That was soon drowned out by a flurry of hushed whispers. The pair made their way to the balcony, Sansa furiously blocking out the few words that she was able to catch and Tyrion with a grim, determined face.
When they were settled, Sansa felt her husbands hand slip into hers, giving her an encouraging squeeze. She tightened her own hand around his fingers when he tried to pull away and he looked at her with slight surprise. She wasn't truly thinking through her actions and felt a blush rise in her cheeks, but she didn't let him go. She needed him if she was going to get through this. He may not be able to say anything to comfort her, but she couldn't explain how safe she felt with her fingers interlocked with his. His warm skin touching her reminded her that she was not alone. So they stood, together, united against this snake pit.
A/N: Alright guys, thank you all so much for your patience. I know it has been forever since I updated and I am sorry. Good and bad news: I just got a promotion at my job. It's great, and I love it, but my free time has been greatly diminished and it has cut deeply into my writing time. I promise I have not abandoned this story and will continue to update, but unfortunately it will be at a slower pace. Thank you all for your support and reviews!