Tyrion left his father dreading the conversation he was about to have with Sansa. How could he tell her that her family was gone? That all hope of rescue was crushed by his own father? He knew it would break her and he wished he didn't have to deliver this news. He wished his damned father had never conspired with the Frey's. He wished this gods forsaken war had never started. Wished that Joffrey hadn't cut off Ned Stark's head and started Sansa's misery. He had hoped to give her even a shred of happiness in these past few weeks, but that would all be over now.
As he rounded the corner towards his rooms, he heard a crash. Panic flooded through him and he moved quickly towards the door. Damn his stunted little legs. As he approached, the door was flung open and Tyrion's fears were realized as a disheveled Joffrey stepped out into the hallway. The sight drained the blood from the dwarfs face. Joffrey was straightening his tunic and looked furious.
"You'll pay for that" he heard the boy-king growl as he slammed to door shut. Joffrey turned and met eyes with Tyrion and he felt his own ire rise. He quickly took in Joff's appearance and was pleased to see that while the king looked ruffled, it was not in a way that he would be if he had had to dress quickly. He noticed the scratches on his face and arm and hoped against reason that Sansa didn't look any worse.
"Uncle," Joffrey glowered. "You committed treason today. You and that little bitch. I will punish you both..."
"You will leave here now and you will not return." Tyrion spoke evenly and calmly, but even a halfwit like his nephew could sense the wrath rolling from the dwarf. "If you come near my wife again, I will gut you. Do you understand, your grace? Your mother cannot protect you. Your grandfather cannot protect you. No one in your kingdom can protect you from me. If you ever touch my wife again, I will kill you."
Joffrey sputtered slightly and Tyrion was glad to see fear in his eyes. Without another word he brushed past the boy, leaving him speechless. He meant every word, too. He was done watching Joffrey torment Sansa. Even if they were not married, he would put an end to it. Now that he...now that he cared for her, he would risk the king's ire to keep her safe no matter the cost.
He slammed the door behind him and took a deep breath before venturing further into the rooms. He surveyed the damage that had been wrought to the room with fear dripping down his spine. A chair had been overturned, the table swept of its contents, and the floor was littered with fallen debris. Terrified, he stepped closer to the chaos searching for her, and finally heard a sound. Almost silent sobs were coming from Sansa's vanity and he quickly sidestepped the chair and made his way closer. He finally saw her: his beautiful wife curled in on herself on the floor. Fearful and cautious, he slowly made his way towards her.
Her lovely copper locks were tangled around her face, shielding it from his view. Her dress had been torn from her shoulder, though it looked mostly intact. She looked so small, curled in on herself, shaking with sobs. He was hesitant to touch her, but he bent down once close and pressed a warm palm onto her back. She jumped from the touch, gasping wetly and only pressed her knees closer to her chest.
"Oh Sansa..." he murmured gently, rubbing his palm is slow circles. "Sansa...I'm so sorry..." For one of the only times in his life, he was completely at a loss for words. What could he say to her that could make this any better? What could he say that could possibly help her right now? Orphaned, beaten, and impossibly alone- there was nothing he could give her to ease her pain. However as she unfurled herself and met his eyes he saw endless need. Her face was bruised and blood was seeping from a split on her lip. Her gorgeous blue eyes were bloodshot and swollen, tears and snot were dripping down her lovely face at an alarming rate and she was still choking on sobs as they bubbled up from her throat. She looked utterly defeated and heartbroken and despite wanting to be cautious with her, Tyrion couldn't help himself. He pulled her from the ground wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hugging her to him. He gently stroked his fingers through her disheveled hair and muttered comforting nonsense into her ear.
He was honestly surprised when she relaxed in his arms, leaning her full weight on him as she resumed her crying. He held her tight, feeling equally helpless as she sobbed in his arms. They sat together, silent except for her cries, for hours. Although his arms ached from the strain and his tunic was soaking from her tears, he didn't move. He just held her, trying his best to soothe her. He would stay for as long as she needed.