As requested: Sansa and Tyrion. This "episode" takes place a few months after the last chapter. So Joanna is over four years old nearing five. Thanks for the support and Cheers!


Sansa bit her tongue nearly in half to keep from speaking against her mother. The three of them sat in the garden, her mother, Sansa, and little Joanna, and the formally quaint and relaxing atmosphere had quickly descended into the opposite. Joanna had been playing around with the fabric instead of making an effort to put needle to fabric, which did not surprise Sansa as her daughter was still quite young to be expected to sit still or wield a needle, and her mother had harshly chastised Joanna for that to such a degree that now Joanna was crying, her mother fuming, and Sansa doing her best to comfort her daughter while at the same time not belittle her mother in her daughter's presence.

For the most part, things were peaceful. Still, there were times, such as this instance, where Lady Catelyn would make it clear that she did not agree with how Sansa and Tyrion had decided to rear Joanna in this area or that. Or, even worse, there were times with Lady Catelyn would step in and discipline her daughter in a fashion and for a problem that Sansa did not agree with. Then there was, of course, the comparisons Lady Catelyn made no hesitation in offering between how Joanna was faring in comparison to Arya's Eddard or Robb and Sascha's brood.

Sansa had yet to figure out which she found most grating, her mother's hovering and disdain of her parenting skills, or the running commentary her mother offered on her sibling's efforts to parent. The gods help them all if Jon ever decided to settle down. While in the years since their father's passing and the truth of Jon's parentage had come through, Lady Catelyn had softened towards their "half-brother," she still had old habits of speech yet to be overcome. If he ever decided to work a wife into his extensive efforts as Lord Commander—and he could as they no longer required monastic vows—none of them would ever hear the end of Lady Catelyn's complaints and critiques

"Why don't we take one of our cliff walks?" Sansa extracted herself from her daughter's arms just enough to peer into her small tear-stained face. There was so much of Tyrion in the wealth of feeling and intelligence in the little girl's eyes. Though the rest of her coloration and figure resembled more of Sansa and the Stark line. "We can find another treasure to show to papa when he returns from his journey." Joanna's eyes widened, and she clapped her hands, taking off to the cloakroom before either Sansa or her mother could object.

"You don't-"

Sansa sat up straighter and looked calmly to her mother, waiting until her mother finished the unwanted commentary on how faulty Sansa's treatment was of Joanna. When her mother finished, Sansa nodded cordially but kept her hands tight in her lap.

"Mother, I respect you and father for the sacrifices you made to rear us. It was not easy, but I commend you both for doing the best you knew how to do in the time and with the resources you were given." Her mother stopped her needlework and began to eye Sansa strangely as if she was bracing herself for a storm. "I would ask, however, that you keep your opinions on how Tyrion and I are raising Joanna to yourself unless we ask for it. We are young parents, and we are new parents, but the gods have made us parents. The time in which we are rearing Joanna is different than the time you and father raised us and faced with an entirely different society and future with which to train her. We will assuredly teach her in a different manner and with different priorities. That does not mean we are deficient or worse for it, just different." Sansa watched her mother's shoulders droop, and she quickly reached out to lay a reassuring hand on her mother's. "You are a valuable member of our house, and we cherish your presence here. I am so thankful for the love and concern you show Joanna, and I know that she loves you and, most of the time, enjoys spending time with you. I'm not demanding that you hold your tongue in all things just," Sansa sighed and squeezed her mother's hand before withdrawing it, "maybe let us fail our way through this the way you and father were allowed to do?"

Lady Catelyn was quiet for so long that Sansa thought herself dismissed. She couldn't very well leave Joanna to roam on her own for much longer. Sansa stood and tucked her needlework away but stopped when her mother called to her.

"Thank you," Catelyn stood, and after wringing her hands awkwardly in front of her, she held out her arms for an embrace, "you are a wonderful mother."

Sansa grinned and shared the embrace with her mother before she retreated to the cloakroom in search of her daughter. She found her half-dressed in one of Tyrion's cloaks and half-dressed in one of Sansa's, along with Joanna's own. Her daughter looked more like a cloaked monster than a child by the time she found her. It took Sansa and two servants to get Joanna untangled and buttoned up in her own cloak, as well as for Sansa to fold herself into her own cloak carefully. It was the same cloak she'd had made when pregnant with Joanna; only it seemed this second child was going to be three times the size of Joanna with how big Sansa's belly was already, and at only a few months into her pregnancy. Her mother told her that it was healthy for second and onward children, but that didn't stop Sansa from looking at the cattle in the fields and feeling an affinity for their lumbering ways.

The day was overcast but not stormy—a welcome change from previous days of late. The wind was strong but not so much that Sansa had to worry about it carrying Joanna over the cliff's edge and so she didn't require her daughter to walk hand-in-hand. Instead, she let her daughter race a few paces in front, behind, and around as they moved along the meandering path. This was one of the first paths Sansa had found when first established at Casterly Rock, and it had never been usurped as one of her favorites. She was pleased that Joanna appeared to have the same affinity for it. They didn't go as far today as some jaunts before, it was later in the day after all, but they had enough time for Sansa to rest on a makeshift bench made of a fallen tree while Joanna raced through a small meadow next to the cliff picking flowers for Lady Catelyn.

As she rested, Sansa thought back on the complexities of life of the past year or so. So much had changed, and so much was ripe for change. They were set to have their second child, Arya and Gendry also seemed keen on more children, and just the aging process of her own child took Sansa by surprise nearly every day. Living now with her mother under roof was also a more complex beast than she'd initially thought it would be.

While Tyrion was secure in his position with the new government that controlled most of southern Westeros, the fact that the Stormlands and the North, along with several other areas here in the south, continued to resist their petitions for admittance made Sansa uncomfortable. She knew Tyrion would do everything in his power to protect Arya and Gendry from attack and to dissuade any movements for an attack against the North. Still, she also knew his was but one voice in the vast government they'd created. In some ways, Tyrion had told her, things were worse than when consolidated under one monarch; even with corrupt and inefficient monarchs, there was still the element of passing the burden of responsibility that didn't exist with their new government.

Then there was the shocking and yet not so unexpected marriage between Jamie and Brienne of Tarth. Tyrion and Sansa had traveled to Tarth for the nuptials when they'd taken place almost five months prior, and neither one of them could quite believe the scene that had unfolded. It had been a traditional Island wedding, though Brienne had made an effort to include some Lannister traditions into the mix. Still, neither Tyrion nor Sansa believed Jamie would've cared either way for that. Tyrion insisted that though it appeared a mismatch and almost a marriage of convenience, he truly believed that Jamie loved Brienne and would do anything for it. He just had to get over his own pride and stupidity first. Sansa could see elements of that, but she also saw how Brienne, too, needed to get over her own ego and painfully shy nature if anything other than cordiality was to pass between them. They hadn't had any relational news since then, save for the occasional letter about trade penned by Jamie came through.

"Joanna," Sansa called to her daughter as she stood and dusted off her cloak, "time to go back."

Her daughter did another twirl and colt-like kick before taking off down the trail in the direction they'd come. Sansa knew that Joanna got her energy and precocious nature from Tyrion, though Tyrion continued to play innocent. Sansa chuckled and shook her head when Joanna tripped on her cloak, face planted, then stood up and kept running as if nothing had happened.

"Papa! Papa!" Joanna's cry had Sansa coming from her thoughts, and her heart swelled with joy at the sight before her.

Tyrion had returned and, after inquiring on their whereabouts, had come looking for them. He still wore his traveling attire. Joanna tackled her father near to the ground, but neither of them seemed to care. Joanna was still shorter than Tyrion, but if she took after the Stark's in height, then soon enough, she would be taller than him. Tyrion didn't mind. He was happy that his daughter would not have the same burdens that he had had, and he prayed that their second child would be equally blessed. Sansa caught up to the embracing and giggling pair soon enough and was included in the mirth as Joanna retold the story of the mishap in the garden with Lady Catelyn but with a decidedly more mischievous twist. Tyrion encouraged her in this storytelling technique though Sansa had yet to believe it to be the best thing. Tyrion insisted that if she was a good storyteller, then at least she'd never starve.

"Wife," Tyrion squeezed her hand before leaning forward and kissing her belly. Every time he did this, both with Joanna and with this new child, Sansa felt a thrill of joy zip through her body as if on wings. Sansa ran her hand through Tyrion's curls and smiled as he tipped his head into her touch. She relished these habits of affection they'd established between them. How it was easy now to exchange love and affection and how confident and comfortable they felt in each other's affection. Standing here now, with her daughter holding one hand, and her husband the other, as they walked back to their home, Sansa had a hard time imagining ever wanting anything other than what she currently had. It wasn't perfect, and no doubt there would be plenty of heartaches in the future near and far, but it was hers, and she was content.