Cruel laughter rose from the crowd as the dwarfs lined up to begin their show. Sansa's throat had seized the moment the lion's mouth had opened and the poor imitation of her dead brother had emerged. Now she struggled to breathe as flashbacks of Robb's boyish smile flitted through her mind as the wolf's head dwarf took his bow to the jeering audience. Even sweet Tommon was chuckling gaily at the sight before them. But she was not the only one at the high table frozen in shock and disgust. As the 'joust' began and the dwarf dressed as Renly was humiliated in a crude and obscene imitation of his well-known nightly habits, even Margaery's trained face could not hide her abhorrence. Loras had stormed from the table, unwilling to stand the insult and Lord Mace and Lady Olenna looked equally discomfited. But none of this was noticed by Joffrey, who laughed as loudly as anyone at the mummery he had arranged.

Sansa's eyes flitted to the man beside her, the obvious target of Joffrey's malice and cruelty. Joffrey had managed to torment quite a few victims with one fell swoop, but it was Tyrion who was shamed most of all. He motioned almost imperceptably to Podrick who stepped forth and leaned close to his masters twitching lips.

"Pay each of them twenty gold when this is done." he murmured, pity laced in his tone before he growled "We will have to find another way to thank the king..."

As Pod stepped back to order his bidding, Tyrion met her eyes. In the same moment, 'Robb Stark' had defeated the Greyjoy dwarf and began crowing "KING IN THE NORTH!" Sansa visibly flinched and Tyrion reached to squeeze her fingers. She bit her lip and screwed her eyes shut, focusing on his steady, warm pressure to chase the sobs that were rising in her throat.

Thank the Gods for him. Even sitting there, trying desperately to shut out the image forced in front of her, she was overcome with gratefulness towards her husband. She was no longer alone. She would always have him to weather whatever storm Joffrey could throw at them. Even now, when he was humiliated in front of the whole court, his gaze was laced with concern for her. Taking a deep breath, she reopened her eyes and managed a weak, encouraging smile. If he could put aside his shame to be there for her, she could set aside her pain to be there for him as well.

They turned back towards the scene, hand-clasped and stronger together, just in time to see the dwarf Joffrey come out triumphant. Joffrey managed to cease his manic, cruel giggling to hold out a heavy, clinking reward.

"Here you are! Your champion's purse! Although...you're not the champion yet, are you? A true champion defeats all his challengers. Surely there are others out there that dare to challenge my reign?" Sansa felt her stomach drop as she followed Joffrey's train of thought when his catlike sneer came towards them. "Uncle? How about you? I'm sure they have a spare costume..."

A few chuckles arose from the crowd, but it was like a heavy blanket had settled over them. Tension rose as the king singled out the man who had always bested him and Sansa knew it would not end well.

Tyrion seemed to weigh his options before standing plastering on a forced smile. "One taste of combat was enough for me, Your Grace. I would like to keep what remains of my face." More laughs rose from the crowd below. He should have sat then, but anger glinted in his eyes. "I think you should fight him! This was but a poor imitation of your own bravery on the field of battle. I speak as a firsthand witness." Joffrey shifted uncomfortably and scowled at his uncle. It was commonly known that he was absent during the Blackwater battle and that his insistance of his presence was a lie. "Climb down from the high table with your new Valyrian sword and show everyone how a true king wins his throne." A few cheers of encouragement came from the crowd and the shift of power was clear. "Be careful, though," Tyrion teased, gesturing towards the dwarf version of the king. "This one is clearly mad with lust. It would be a tragedy for the king to lose his virtue hours before his wedding night." True laughter rang out at his jesting and Tyrion took his seat again having said his part.

Joffrey however, looked utterly furious. Having clearly worked to embarass his uncle, in a few short words, Tyrion had once again bested him. Intelligent enough to know he was outwitted, Joffrey glowered at the dwarf before stalking over to the end of the table behind them. He slowly and agonizingly upended his goblet, pouring wine down on Tyrion, soaking him.

All humor had vanished at this point, outside of Joffrey's own chuckling and Cersei's smirk. Sansa sat beside her humiliated husband like a stone and met eyes with Margaery, who quickly looked away, her distaste for her groom clear but they were all powerless to stop him.

"A fine vintage," Tyrion muttered. "A shame that it spilled"

Joffrey's grin was once again swept from his face as it colored in rage. "It did not spill!" he stated petulantly, angry that Tyrion was taking away his victory.

Sansa knew this would not end well. Joffrey would never match Tyrion in wits and the pain and humiliation the king was subjecting him to was too much for the dwarf to let go. They were both equally unwilling to accept defeat in front of an audience and the tension was reaching dangerous levels. Her mind spun on how she could stop this without bringing Joffrey's wrath on her own head when Margaery smiled, sickeningly sweet and beckoned the king. "My love, come back to me! It's time for my father's toast."

It seemed to do the trick, as Joffrey sauntered back to his bride while the jousting dwarfs exited the stage. But his words were still biting. "Well, how does he expect me to toast without wine?" Uncle, you can be my cupbearer seeing as you're too cowardly to fight." Tyrion gritted his teeth and rose from his chair.

"Your Grace does me a fine honor."

Irritation and dangerous rage was clear on the kings face. "It is not meant as an honor!" Silence once again engulfed the crowd as they waited to see what the smallest Lannister would react. But then Tyrion turned to Sansa and she looked at him pleadingly. She could see the decision swirling in his eyes before the fight drained out of him and he approached his king. Joffrey's smile returned as he saw the defeat in his uncle and he sent a victorious smirk to his mother, who returned it.

But he was ungracious in his victory.

The moment Tyrion came to him and reached for the goblet, Joffrey purposely dropped it letting it clatter to the ground. As Tyrion bent to retrieve it, the king kicked it away from his fingers, sending it down towards Sansa. Pitying murmurs broke out from the crowd at that. Even Lady Olenna made a noise of distaste and Margaery looked away, shamed at Joffrey's actions. Tyrion just glared.

"Bring me my goblet." Joffrey taunted.

Fury rose in Sansa at the sight of her husband humiliated so as he sank to the ground to look and she pushed back her chair, moving to help him. Joffrey's glare turned to her, and only an hour earlier it would have chilled her blood for his attention to be aimed her way, but now she met his gaze fiercely. He could do whatever he wanted to her, but just as he had always been there for her, she refused to let Tyrion stand alone any longer. She retrieved the cup from where it was kicked and gently handed it to her husband. As he took it from her, she placed her other hand around his and gazed into his eyes-hoping her feelings and love and support would be communicated in that one touch. If Lord Tywin could be trusted, this may be the last time they would have to bow to Joffrey's cruelty. He nodded slightly, seemingly understanding, and returned to the petulant, sulky king who looked all the more furious that she had helped him.

As he went to pass the goblet to him, Joffrey only glared at him and scoffed. "What good is an empty cup? Fill it." Almost rolling his eyes at the continued mummery, Tyrion did as he was bid, holding out the now full chalice. But Joffrey was not appeased. His eyes narrowed, flitting towards Sansa. His glare was full of cruelty and madness and his lips turned up as he appraised her. While the hair on the back of her neck stood at his gaze, she refused to look away, meeting his gaze determinedly.

It was the wrong move. As he continued to stare at her, he spoke almost quietly. "Kneel." When Tyrion did not move, his attention finally left Sansa and returned to his hated uncle. Titters broke out from the crowd, and Joffrey flushed, embarassed. "I said...KNEEL!" But just like Sansa was unwilling to act the scared victim anymore, neither was Tyrion willing to submit to Joffrey. Even Tywin looked on, curious of how this was going to end. But just as Joffrey opened his mouth, whether to call for his uncles head or what, Margaery's musical voice rang out.

"Look, the pie!"

A/N: So sorry about the delay-hoping to get the next chapter out later today to make up for it!