Tyrion stared blankly over the Blackwater, lost in thought and memories. First of the recollections of the battle that scarred his face, of wildfire lighting up the sky and the screams of the dying. Memories that haunted him less and less as time went by and he had managed, mostly, to make peace with them. But now his thoughts turned to a time when he sat here with Sansa and tried to comfort her after her mother and brother had been slaughtered. What a laugh, as if she would have wanted or accepted comfort from him! But it had been his job to take care of her, to try at the very least. His poor young wife had been all alone in this desolate place. He had known that but rather than force his friendship upon her he had allowed the distance to widen. Allowing her to isolate herself more because of his pride in the face of her rejection, because of ignorance, because of Shae.
Shae. Even thinking of her hurt. He should have never brought her to King's Landing, and certainly never have fallen for her. He most definitely should have sent her away once his betrothal to Sansa was made. It wasn't fair to her or Sansa. But he was selfish and stupid, not beginning to fathom how far Shae's jealousy would drive her. Jaime had spoken true when he called him a moron when it came to love.
He shook his head burying any thoughts of Shae. She was not the reason he was currently seeking comfort in solitude. Sansa, sweet lovely Sansa, who couldn't bear the sight of him was. The woman he loved who despised him just as much now as when they had been married. A sudden surge of anger overtook him and he started throwing some heavy loose stones into the water below in a rage. There were a million people to be angry with, most of them dead, but the one who he hated the most was himself. His actions had trapped him in a personal hell of his own design.
Eventually his arm tired, and he laid his head on his arms breathing hard. A sudden gust of wind from the bay, the harbinger of the encroaching storm clouds, brought with it a single burning clarity. He would leave, no he needed to leave this city with it's bitter memories. Being Daenerys's Hand had ceased to bring him the satisfaction and pleasure it once did. He was tired, bone tired, and he no longer found any joy in playing the game of thrones. At the Summit's end he would resign and leave with Jaime, for a time at least, to visit the Rock as his brother had asked. He would then become the vagabond he had joked about with Sansa, perhaps visiting the vineyards of Dorne and the Arbor or go to Oldtown to study with the Maesters. In time he hoped that he may find peace, learning to live with the shatters of his broken heart. But he would never, ever go north of the Neck. There was no way to go to the North and not think of Sansa. She was the North, despite her Tully appearance, and it had never been in more adept hands as it was with its current Wardeness. Seeing her again after this would be too hard and drive him to a despair he would not recover from. It would kill him enough to hear second hand when she remarried, or Gods to know she carried another man's child in her womb, let alone witness it. Despite her protests to the contrary, he knew she would marry in time. She had always wanted to recreate the family she grew up with and her drive for that would eventually outweigh her fear of marriage. Sansa Stark not having a brood of her own children was unfathomable to him and she would have her pick of any man in Westeros when she was ready. A man who would be worthy of her love and would shower her with the adoration and love she deserved. How could he not? Tyrion knew all too well that it was impossible not to love her.
A wave of calm overtook him with his decision and he closed his eyes praying to the Gods for the strength to get him through the next few weeks until he could start this new life. A life far away from politics, intrigue, and most of all from the pain of loving Sansa Stark. Although he doubted he could truly outrun the last but distance could only help right? The calm was shattered by a large raven landing next to him with a raucous squawk, before swooping down over the water only to turn and fly towards the Keep. Idolly, he wondered if this was a sign of divine approval, but as he turned and spotted the figure on the edge of the balcony he knew that there either was no Gods or they were laughing at him.
Sansa's heart thudded loudly in her ears as her gaze met Tyrion's. She swallowed hard, realizing that in her desperation to find him she hadn't actually sorted out what she wanted to say to him. Could they even go back to being friends now that she truly knew how she felt about him?
Tyrion seemed to recover first from the surprise of their encounter. "My Lady." he said his voice sounding husky. He looked terrible, haggard and exhausted, a week's worth of stubble on his face, yet she still thought him the most devastatingly handsome man she had ever seen. Knowing that her behaviour accounted for part of how poorly he looked flooded her with guilt.
Her mouth dry and palms sweaty, Sansa found herself opening and closing her mouth several times like a fish gulping air, unable to form any of her thoughts into words as she gawked at him. Embarrassed, she could feel the heat on her cheeks rising and hoped the darkness would cover her face.
Tyrion just sighed and looked at her sadly, "My Lord is the standard response. But I guess we're well beyond that aren't we." He gave her a fleeting smile that didn't reach his sorrowful eyes. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you." he muttered as he hurried past her to head back into the gardens.
Sansa screamed internally and she was finally able to choke out a single word, "Stop."
He turned to look at her, his face full of sad resignation as if expecting her to give him another verbal lashing. Misery seeped in her bones that this is what their relationship had devolved to. "Stop please." she said giving him a pleading look. She sat on the stone ledge, knees quaking as he approached her.
He stopped quite a distance from her, as if he found being near her too painful. "Is there something you require Lady Stark? What can the Hand do for the North?" His formal words cut her to the quick, and she felt ill at the thought that things might be too far beyond repair. But Gods know she had to try. Even if she could never have him as she wished, she wanted to be part of his life.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to compose herself and despite years of lessons in manners found it hard to suppress her nerves. Clutching the note she held it out to him saying "I got your letter." she lifted her eyes to his hopefully. Belatedly, she realized how young and stupid she sounded.
Tyrion took a step towards her, his posture rigid, his demeanor stiff and reserved. "I assumed as much. Don't worry, I got your answer loud and clear the night of the ball and every other day this week." He said with a bite to his words that Sansa thought was caused by the hurt he felt. Hurt that she had inadvertently caused for both of them.
Sansa was finally able to compose herself before responding wanting to lighten the burden in both of their hearts. She would fight for his friendship if that was all she could have of him. "You misunderstand Tyrion. I just now got your letter."
"Now?" Tyrion said baffled but she swore she saw his guard slip just a bit and he took another step closer to her.
"While it was sweet that you wanted to surprise me with my old doll, it might not be best to attach important correspondence to toys with very young children around. Joanna took the doll thinking it for her and Jaime just now figured it out tonight. He told me where to find you after giving me the letter." Sansa said gently relieved that she was finally able to compose herself enough to speak with him rationally. "I believe he had some knowledge of the contents."
Sansa watched Tyrion's face shift minutely through a series of emotions almost impossible to follow but finally landing on a guarded look, his armour almost as thick as her own. She would have to keep hers down now if she ever expected him to lower his again around her. However, he was unable to completely disguise the hope in his voice. "I meant every word I said. I can only hope it's enough."
Sansa took a deep breath before responding "It's not." She could see the hope that had just surfaced burst like a bubble at her answer. But she was determined to have the answers she had needed since the night they had quarreled. "I need to know why."
"Why what?" Tyrion said defeatedly as he slumped on the stone ledge several feet from her, as if his legs could no longer support the weight of his body.
"I thought that the reason you kept the song from me is that you thought me still the weak child you married. That despite all that I had endured that you didn't see the woman I had become. There are few people in this world that I think know the true me and I thought you were one of them. The idea that you didn't, that you saw me as less than or more fragile than the other women in your life hurt me deeply. But what you wrote….the kind words you said of me contradict that thought. So I need to know why. Why would you treat me differently from Daenerys or Reyna? Don't tell me you would have hidden such a thing from them."
"I told you that night, I had made a vow to protect you the day we wed and I was trying to honor that."
"Oh for Gods sake Tyrion, stop trying to sell me that same tired line. It was a song, hurtful of course, but not nearly as hurtful as you thinking I couldn't deal with it. If we are going to move forward I need the truth." As she waited for his reply, the irony was not lost on her that she had demanded the truth from him all the while keeping her feelings for him to herself. There was no point in dwelling on that if their friendship was beyond salvation.
The truth. She wanted the truth. The truth, of course, was that he was in love with her, but that wasn't what she was seeking with these questions. And while he couldn't deny that his unrequited love for her had played a role in his actions, his need to protect her from even the slightest thing stemmed from the horrible guilt he carried in his soul. For not protecting her when she needed it the most.
He leaned forward burying his face in his hands not able to look at her as he confessed. "It was my fault. What happened to you, Littlefinger, Ramsey...it was all my fault."
"What in the world are you talking about Tyrion Lannister?" Sansa said angrily. "How could any of that possibly be your fault? I left you. I trusted Littlefinger. You weren't even on this side of the Narrow Sea!"
"Exactly!" Tyrion said shouting now. "You were my wife! I should have gone after you, made sure you were safe. Instead I drank myself into oblivion lost in my own self-pity and self-loathing...after, after..Shae. After what she said, after what I did to her. I thought of nobody but myself when you needed someone to watch out for you. Even if it was your pathetic excuse of a husband."
"Tyrion, there was no way for you to know Littlefinger's plans for me." Sansa reasoned softly.
"But I did!" he yelled angrily. "Before we were betrothed, Shae warned me, warned me that he was not to be trusted as far as you were concerned by one of Littlefinger's whores. She came to me, worried for you, wanting us to protect you and I did nothing! Even after we wed, when your safety was my responsibility I did nothing! I thought I was so clever but I was just a giant chump, framed for murder by an old woman and a scheming snake in the grass. I knew, I knew, he wasn't to be trusted but I never saw his trap until it was too late. Too late for both of us." He took a deep breath. "I failed you. What kind of man can't protect his wife? Oh, that's right, a half man who thinks he's smarter than he actually is. I'm surprised at any point in your life you thought I was clever. I'm a fool, an arrogant, selfish fool and you paid the price. I have never forgiven myself for not getting you out of the capitol after we wed. I could have convinced my father to take you to the Rock, where you would be safe from my sister, her offspring, and any licideous plans Littlefinger had for you. We could have ridden out the war in peace and maybe.."
"Maybe what?"
'Maybe in time we could have had a real marriage.' he thought. But that was just a fantasy, there was no reality in which Sansa would gladly be his wife. Instead he said "Nothing. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I am ultimately responsible for all that befell you, and I was trying in my own asinine way to make amends by protecting you from what I could. Even if it was just a bawdy song and I even managed to fuck up that epically."
"Tyrion, I don't even know what to say." Sansa said slowly. "But I think you're right."
He closed his eyes waiting for the hammer to fall. For her to finally see the truth to his words, to feel the sting of the verbal assault he deserved or even better a slap to his face. It was so obvious to him that she should blame him. It was his duty to take care of her, ordained before the Gods themselves and he had failed her in this. She absolutely should hate him and blame him for what had happened.
"You're right that you are a damned fool." she said and surprisingly he felt her slide next to him and take his hand in hers. "But the rest of it is the biggest load of sheep shift I have ever heard." she said with a tender smile in her voice. "Littlefinger duped everyone, he was playing the long game and we were all just catching up. There was no way for you to know and truthfully I'm not sure if even he knew the true depravity of Ramsey Bolton. You do know his true goal was for me to be by his side after he wormed his way onto the throne. He even told me he loved me before I sentenced him to death."
He was shocked and warmed by her hand in his and took him a moment to recover his voice. "It doesn't surprise me that his obsession with your mother turned to you after her death. I'm sure you've been told by more than one person that you are the spitting image of her." he said finally daring to look at her face. He saw nothing but concern there, not the revulsion he feared. "I'm glad it was you that took him out."
"Not just me. Bran and Arya too."
Nothing like an omnipotent being to ferret out the truth Tyrion thought. He was glad that Bran had stayed in Winterfell. Tyrion didn't need him to spill the truth of his love for her. Or would the three-eyed raven even interfere in mortal affairs? It was a question all that knew Bran wondered. How much of Bran Stark was actually left?
They sat quietly, and Tyrion could feel the tingles traveling up his arm from where Sansa held his hand. This time she spoke quietly. "I've felt remorse for a long time for abandoning you that horrid day. Petyr told me as we sailed for the Vale that he framed you for Joffrey's death with some help. I guess he thought that I didn't care and I did my best to make him think I didn't. I was just trying to survive and there was little I could do for you even though I knew you to be innocent. Petyr kept abreast of the trial news as he could. He wanted me to be a widow, the easier to marry me off yet again. You inconvenienced him by living, and he had to go through the trouble of annulling our marriage."
Something about this statement troubled and gnawed at the back of his mind. He had been too traumatized and grief stricken after his marriage to Tysha to pay much attention to how his father had annulled that marriage. But he knew only the High Septon or a Council of the Faith could annul a marriage, and he wondered how Littlefinger had maneuvered that. However, the man had manipulated two powerful families to war with each other so getting a widely known sham marriage put aside was probably easy. But still he should probably make sure she was actually free of him.
"Sansa, you should feel no guilt or regret for leaving. Your fate would have been sealed along with mine had you stayed. It was the right thing to do. I should have gone after you or sent somebody after you to keep you safe once I was free."
"It wouldn't have mattered, Tyrion if you had. Your brother sent Lady Brienne after me to escort me to safety in an attempt to honor their oath to my mother. And I refused her. What makes you think I wouldn't have done the same if someone had come on your behalf?"
Logically, Tyrion couldn't dispute this statement but emotionally it did little to lesson his guilt. She was his wife. He should have protected her. He sighed and squeezed her hand and stared at their interlocking fingers. "I'm just sorry for all that happened to you Sansa. I would do anything to give you back all that the Lannisters, the Boltons, and Littlefinger took from you."
"I'm sorry too, Tyrion. I judged you by your name and family, not your actions towards me. I'm glad that we have come full circle and I have come to know you as a friend and appreciate how good a man you really are. But we both need to let go of this burden we feel for actions made long ago."
Tyrion let out a choked laugh. If only she knew of the lurid things he dreamed of doing to her. She would not think him such a good man and would slap him as he so rightfully deserved. "I am not a good man nor worthy of the friendship you bestow upon me. But I will try to be if you let me. This past week has been beyond miserable thinking you had excised me from your life. I missed you." he said with a deep timber to his voice.
"I missed you too." she admitted quietly.
"You did?" he said surprised. He couldn't stop the smile that lit up his face.
"Of course I did!" she said sounding slightly miffed at his surprise. "You're the one that was so busy being wined and dined by the single ladies of Westeros. I'm surprised you had time to think of me at all."
Oh Sansa if you only knew how much I thought of you. "Do you remember our conversation the other night where I mentioned I only spent so much time working during our marriage to spare you my company?"
"Yes." she said her brow furrowed. "Oh" she said smally as the deeper meaning set in and he was astonished to see a slight smile touch the corner of her mouth as she looked away from him.
"Those dinners were simply a diversion, and an extremely fruitless one at that." He had hated every moment spent with women that weren't Sansa. They weren't brave like Sansa, witty and smart like Sansa. And of course none could ever be as beautiful to the core as the woman he loved.
Tyrion couldn't help but admire her elegant profile. Her ivory skin was translucent in the moonlight and her neck was as long and exquisite as a swans. Her lovely, lovely neck that he longed to run his fingers and lips up and down, up and down, until he could make her shiver and moan. The remembrance of her necklace in his pocket jolted him out of his lustful fantasies and in his haste to get at it he dropped her hand.
She turned to him startled and possibly even disappointed (wishful thinking dwarf) when he pulled away from her. "I have something for you." he said hoping his tone sounded like that of a man in control of his emotions, not a green boy giving a maid a flower even though that's what he felt like. He placed the pouch in her hand and was delighted by her face lighting up.
"Tyrion...you shouldn't have got me anything."
"I didn't, I just had it repaired," he said seriously. "I have a feeling this was originally a gift from somebody far, far more important in your life than me."
Her eyebrow arched in question as she untied the string enclosing the jeweler's pouch before dumping the contents in her hand. In amazement she reached down and pulled up the chain and there in the dim light sparkling like the sea below hung her silver dragonfly pendant.
Sansa could scarcely breathe as the visions overwhelmed her. Memories of a time when she was still innocent to the horrors of the world, before her family was rent apart. She had seen the necklace at a market in Wintertown and had been immediately drawn to it. Sansa had been deep into her dreams of true love and fairy tales as she began to blossom into womanhood. While Florian and Jonquil had been a favorite of hers, she knew it to be just a story. However, the story of Jenny of Oldstones and Duncan Targaryen was real. Perhaps embellished with time, but still a prince that loved Jenny, a commoner, so much he forswore the Iron Throne abdicating as Prince of Dragonstone and in turn given the mocking term 'Prince of Dragonflies'. Sansa had torn through her purse, hoping she had enough to purchase the piece but did not and was crushed when her father fetched her to return home. She had begged him for it, babbling the whole time about Jenny, Duncan, and true love. But he had ushered her home and she had been devastated to leave without it, weeping inconsolably.
That night he came to her room giving her the necklace that he had gone back to get for her. "Someday I hope you find a man that loves you as much as Duncan loved Jenny. Just know that true love usually takes time and effort to develop as it did with your mother and I. Real love is far less flashy and sensational than the songs my daughter. It is quiet in it's simple beauty like the peaceful silence during a snowfall. Love is a place of calm and safety in this world." Ned said as he fastened the necklace around her neck moving her hair aside. Her face had fallen at his statement. She had wanted the passionate, fervent love affairs she had read about so badly her whole body yearned for them. "But there has not been a bard or writer that has ever been able to fully articulate how wonderful it actually is when you are in love. It will be a truly lucky man that wins your heart and I will do all I can to make sure he is worthy of you before letting you go."
Tears streamed down her face as her father's voice filled her thoughts. Tyrion's mouth tightened in concern and he placed his hand over hers taking the necklace from her gently before she dropped it.
"A gift from your father or your mother?" Tyrion asked, studying it. How did this kind, gentle, man know her so well?
"My father." she whispered. "I loved the legend of Jenny of Oldstones and the prince that gave up the throne for her."
"The Prince of Dragonflies." he whispered reverently. Tyrion's hands undid the clasp and he motioned for Sansa to turn her back to him so he could place it around her neck. She pulled her long auburn hair out of the way granting him access and she couldn't help the shiver that passed through her as his warm hands lightly touched the back of her neck, burning their way into her flesh.
Looking down she admired the necklace that felt so right around her neck. "I always wanted a great love, one for the legends, like Jenny and Prince Duncan. When my father gave this to me he told me that real love was not like the stories. That it was less showy, but that in the end it was better than any words could make it out to be."
"I know you've said you won't marry again but there is still time for you to find your Duncan. Don't let the past actions of despicable men rob you of your future happiness Sansa. The thought of you alone in that big castle breaks my heart. I want to see it filled with Starks again and I know you dream of it too."
Her tears continued, this time from the words Tyrion spoke. Of course she dreamed of having a family. It was her dearest wish. She wanted lots of children, her children, to fill Winterfell's halls and bring it back to life. But to do that she would need a husband.
"You make it sound so easy Tyrion but I don't exactly see you throwing yourself into the marriage game."
"Of course I have." he snorted. "I seem to remember a confounded list that you were keeping for me."
"Yes, one you begged me to help you with and then have not put the slightest effort into pursuing."
He didn't respond immediately clearly thinking her words over. "You're right. I am no longer interested in the Queen's marriage gambit. Loneliness is no reason to marry."
"So you've given up on love then Tyrion?"
"I never said that Sansa, but what has marriage ever had to do with love? We both can attest to that." he said bitterly.
"But your first marriage…"
"Was a lie conjured by a lonely young man's heart compounded by the lust of youth. The love equivalent of fool's gold, and I was the fool." He sighed running his fingers through his curly locks before continuing. "But I finally think love has given up on me. Your heart can only be broken so many times before it's too damaged to repair and no poor woman should be inflicted with the likes of me anyway. But it is not too late for you Sansa. You are too young and too passionate to give up on love so easily. There are thousands of men in Westeros who would love to court you and show you that love is real. You don't have to marry for safety or security so find the love you deserve so badly. Promise me you won't compromise for less than the song that should be sung about you and your Duncan in all the taverns of Westeros." he said smiling at her but his eyes almost looked haunted as if what he said pained him.
Sansa's heart shattered in her chest. She didn't want any of these hypothetical men and knew with an earth shattering certainty that the only man she would ever love sat in front of her. A man whose heart was as bruised and battered as her own. A man that circumstance and duty would never allow her to be with. A man she wanted so badly, and he was so close she could feel his warmth. Desire coursed through her looking at this handsome and utterly sexy man with his course stubble, wild curls, and soulful eyes. Couldn't she just have a taste, a taste of what it would be like to be with him? She was so tired of fighting her feelings. She learned forward gathering his shocked face in her hands. "I don't want a thousand men to love me, I just want you." she said in a strangled sob as the damn inside her finally broke. Pressing her lips to his, she was beyond caring because she was dying inside. Gods she needed this, needed this memory, needed his taste to linger on her lips for a lifetime. Tyrion froze for a moment at her initial touch, but reacted swiftly and urgently as if his feelings for her were just as unbearable to suppress any longer as her own had been. She chose to believe that if only for this fleeting moment that he loved her as she loved him. That maybe they couldn't have a happily ever after but they could at least have this kiss, this perfect kiss. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her hungrily with an intensity and ardour that was better than any of her fantasies. She stroked the burgeoning beard on his face lovingly and he clutched her to him as if afraid she wasn't real and would disappear any minute.
The kiss deepened even more and soon she found that clever tongue delicately tracing her lips and tongue. The taste of the wine only heightened the sensation and was so perfectly Tyrion she found herself growing weak in his arms and understood why women in the songs swooned in their lover's arms. One of his hands caressed the hand on his face before tenderly reaching forward to stroke her cheek and then her neck. A low moan escaped them both as his fingers touched the soft skin of her throat. Sansa was so enraptured by his touch that it was only the crack of thunder from the oncoming storm that made her come back to her senses. She pulled away from him breathing hard, terrified that in her desire for his touch she had ruined things completely. The sight of his kiss swollen face and soft eyes full of invitation for more almost broke her, but she knew that this was all they could have even if she wanted so much more. And with the way he was looking at her, she wondered if her feelings were indeed reciprocated. That made what she had to do now even more painful.
She rose to her feet stammering, "Our circumstances haven't changed, even if my feelings for you have." she said looking to flee trying to protect what little of her heart was still her own.
"Your feelings for me? Circumstances? I don't understand Sansa." he pleaded sounding as heartbroken as she was.
"Because what I said in the crypts still stands if only slightly altered. It will never work between us because our divided loyalties, mine to the North and yours as Daenerys's Hand, will always be an issue. I'm sorry Tyrion, I'm so sorry. I'm selfish and just wanted to know for a second what it would be like if things were different. I only thought I was hurting myself, I never meant to hurt you. Believe me it's the last thing I want." she said her voice bordering on hysterical as she ran back into the garden just as the storm clouds broke overhead drowning her name as he called after her.
