A/N - This story is so much bigger than I imagined. Nevertheless we shall continue. Let me know what you think!
Chapter 24
"The wound on your chest has healed quite well my lord" said Wolkan "Shall I check your ankle next?"
Tyrion nodded mutely on the bed, and Sansa reached out to grasp his hand; squeezing lightly. Following the bath, she'd helped her husband into a pair of the new breeches Esther had sent - rolling them up to his knee to avoid the soggy bandages on his left ankle while they awaited the Maester.
She understood why Tyrion was nervous. Of all his injuries, his broken ankle would cause him the most problems going forwards if it didn't heal properly. As Wolkan cut away the soggy splint, Sansa's mind wandered back to the bath she'd not long ago given her husband. When she initially thought of the idea it seemed an ideal way to be closer to Tyrion and hopefully ease some of his insecurities - at least around her. In practice, she'd been nearly as nervous as he was. Naively, she'd thought the experience would be similar to helping her mother bathe her siblings as a child. Yet when she'd started to undress Tyrion, it became very obvious he was not a child and Sansa did not in fact, know what she was doing. She wasn't helping a reluctant child to have a bath; she was asking for the trust of a man who'd been mocked and abused all of his life - a man who was still recovering from a traumatic experience.
Despite his obvious fear Tyrion had given her his trust; and she held it like a sacred gift.
Seeing how scared Tyrion was had eased some of her own fears, propelling her into the familiar role of carer. Pushing her own doubts aside was much easier when she was focusing on someone else's needs, and she enjoyed lavishing Tyrion with her attention. As expected, his back had proven the biggest obstacle and she'd done what she could to reassure him that his scars held no shame. The trust he'd given her this morning meant everything to Sansa; he'd even told her how he acquired the scars across his back. Her stomach rolled recalling his story. The image of Tyrion being tied to a post and publicly lashed, all for trying to save a poor child from mutilation was sure to haunt her dreams. She could hardly imagine how horrific the experience surely was for him.
Sansa bit her lip gazing at her husband's anxious face as Wolkan examined his ankle. He must have been so scared; alone in a strange country - not knowing what they were going to do to him. More than anything Sansa wished she'd been there to protect him. As awful as it sounded she'd spared little thought for where Tyrion was following word of his escape from Kings Landing. Her own life had become consumed by littlefingers manipulation and the horror Ramsay could inflict on her. The Queen shook her head to clear the dark thoughts. That was in the past - Tyrion was here and she would protect him now.
A sudden squeeze of her hand drew Sansa sharply back to the present; to her husband's tight face as his ankle was probed. His hand relaxed almost as soon as it tightened and Tyrion tried to pull away, but Sansa held firm rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand.
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine" he said, barely concealing a wince
"Apologies my lord, I am trying to determine the exact point of the break before I make the splint. Your ankle was too bruised and swollen before to do so accurately"
"I think you found it" said Tyrion grimacing at the treatment
"Your ankle looks much better though" said Sansa, thankful it no longer resembled the twisted mess it was
"At least my foot is pointing the right way up"
"It appears to be healing as well as can be expected my lord. I will splint it again and then we can try some weight on it"
Her husband's fear grew more noticeable as Wolkan fashioned pieces of wood around the broken limb and began to secure it under layers of bandages. She knew Tyrion was afraid of being crippled. His self-esteem was already rock bottom; the last thing he needed was to be lame for the rest of his life.
"It'll be ok" she soothed, stroking his hand
"What if I can't walk again?" he said quietly, pleading green eyes turning to her
"You will"
"I could be crippled. Unable to walk properly for the rest of my life"
"Then we'll find a way around it"
Tyrion gave her a sad smile before his expression tightened "I don't want to be a cripple"
"You won't be a cripple" she said, moving from her chair to perch on the edge of the bed "and if you struggle to walk I'll help you"
He turned his face from her and Sansa could practically hear his unspoken words of protest; telling her how he didn't want to be an inconvenience. It had been heart-warming to see Tyrion relaxing in the bath and exchanging playful banter with him, but she wasn't naïve enough to think he was cured of his doubts and insecurities. This morning had given her much to hope for however.
"I think you can try to stand now my lord" said Wolkan, moving back from Tyrion's bound ankle to stand at the side of the bed
It wasn't as padded as before, though it was still a sorry sight. Familiar anger burned through Sansa. Robin and Gawan would die for this. Turning her attention back to Tyrion, Sansa helped him shuffle to the edge of the bed and looped her arm around his waist.
"Ready?" she whispered, leaning her head against his
"Ready"
Together they moved from the bed, Sansa maintaining her grip on Tyrion as his feet slid to the floor. Wolkan knelt not far from the bed, sharp eyes trained on the broken limb.
"Try to put more weight on it my lord"
Her husband obliged, leaning away from her slightly to put more pressure on the leg.
"How does that feel?" asked Wolkan
"It's ok" said Tyrion, corners of his mouth turning upwards
"Very good" said the Maester "Shall we try moving forwards?"
Tyrion nodded slowly, leaning away from Sansa as he lifted his bandaged foot. She held her breath until her husband managed to take a step, gingerly transferring his weight onto the limb. A grimace crossed his face as he moved but Tyrion continued forwards as Sansa forced herself to remain still. He staggered on the second step before righting himself. The progress was painfully slow but her husband managed to take at least four steps before coming to a halt - his body swaying on the spot.
Wolkan reached out to steady him but Sansa got there first; crouching down to take his weight as she looped her arm around his waist.
"Sorry" he said, leaning against her "The room started to spin on me"
"You did great" she said, kissing his cheek "I knew you could do it"
Tyrion gave her a small smile as his chest heaved from the exertion. It was awful watching him struggle to walk. Part of her wanted to put him back in bed where he was safe, but she couldn't keep him locked in their chambers forever - however much she wanted to.
Wood scraping along the floor drew her attention as Wolkan pulled over a chair for Tyrion.
"That was very promising my lord, though it's best not to overdo it"
Her husband nodded, and she helped him into the chair as the old Maester knelt in front of Tyrion to resume his examination.
"I'm too weak" said Tyrion, dropping his gaze "A few steps and I'm exhausted"
"You've been bed ridden for weeks my lord, and nearly died of a serious illness just a week ago - it will take time to recover your strength. What was the pain in your ankle like?"
"Dull" he said "It ached but it was bearable"
Sansa stood behind Tyrion's chair, lowering her hands to rub his shoulders as the Maester spoke with him. The reminder of that horrible night when he'd nearly died stirred a cold dread in Sansa's heart. It had been far too close - but Tyrion was here; he was alive.
"I believe the best course of action will be to slowly increase your mobility. A few short journeys each day to increase your strength. Your ankle will need to be monitored carefully and it would be better if you used a stick to get around - to ensure stability and keep some of the weight off the break"
Her husband's face fell at the prospect of using a stick, and Sansa lightly squeezed his shoulders.
"You won't need to use a stick if you don't want" she told him "You won't be going anywhere without me until you've healed so you can lean on me instead"
Sansa shot Wolkan a look and the old man quickly agreed "Of course my lord, anything to relieve a little pressure on the broken bones until they're stronger. It's a very good sign that you could move as you just did - in time I think you will recover well"
Tyrion nodded, fiddling with the edge of his breeches "Will I be able to walk when Bran comes?"
"That's a couple of weeks away and I suspect you will be much improved by then. I've brought a boot that will go over your bandaged foot, though it is quite large compared to your usual boots I'm afraid" said Wolkan "However it will stabilise your foot and keep the splint clean"
Bran's visit was drawing closer, and as much as she wanted to see her little brother Sansa found herself growing anxious at the prospect of his visit. He was barely recognisable as Bran anymore. Instead of her little brother he was the three-eyed raven – his eyes had seen too much and his words sent ice slithering down her spine. It wasn't natural what he could do. She'd seen strange things; dragons, white walkers – but Bran unnerved her more than anything else. She suspected it was the words he'd spoken to her in the Godswood about the night she married Ramsay. Of all the ways he could have proven his powers, he chose that horrific night?
She'd told Tyrion about the impending visit and her husband seemed as anxious as she was. Telling him that Bronn, Podrick, Brienne and Davos were coming too had further darkened his mood – much to her surprise. Perhaps he didn't want them to see him in a weakened state? Tyrion hadn't said anything to indicate he was nervous about their visit, but she knew him well enough to see the truth.
Turning her mind back to the present, her eyes followed Tyrion's as the Maester removed the bandages holding his arm together. Much like his ankle it was nowhere near as mangled as it had been, though there was still some evidence of fading bruises around his hand.
"This was quite the mess lord Tyrion, it certainly looks better though" said Wolkan, taking hold of his broken fingers "Can you feel this?"
"Yes"
"How about this?"
Wolkan continued to manipulate Tyrion's hand and Sansa noticed the Maester's brow furrow as he continued the exam.
Apparently Tyrion had also noticed "Not good news?"
The old man sighed "Some good, some bad I fear. Your wrist is healing well and the two broken fingers appear to be healing straight – it's your hand that concerns me"
Tyrion tensed under her hands and Sansa rubbed his shoulders soothingly.
"What's wrong?" she asked, as Tyrion dropped his head away from them
"There were multiple breaks in the hand and fixing such breaks is incredibly difficult. The bruising and swelling at the time made pinpointing the breaks near impossible" started Wolkan
"Most Maester's would remove the hand" muttered Tyrion
"Indeed" he agreed, smiling kindly at Tyrion "though I've always found that treatment rather extreme – and unnecessary in this case"
Sansa let out a breath at the verdict "What's actually wrong with his hand?"
"If you see here" said Wolkan, pointing to the top of her husband's hand "a couple of the bones are healing out of alignment. Most appear to be healing correctly, but this would likely hinder the use of that hand"
"So I am crippled?" said Tyrion, refusing to look at his damaged limb
"Not necessarily my lord" said Wolkan "I can reset the bandages as they were and your hand will continue to heal as it is, though you will lose some movement in it. As it isn't your dominant hand you might prefer than option"
"Or?" prompted Sansa
"There is a way that might help to realign the bones and restore better use of the limb. I won't lie to you lord Tyrion – either way this hand is likely to have some stiffness to it considering the damage. However, I can construct a tighter splint that would push the broken bones towards their natural alignment. If successful the treatment would be more likely to give you full use of the hand – though I must warn you it is a painful process and will extend the healing by a week or two. Your left arm will need to remain unused and immobilised for longer than if you leave the hand in its current state"
Sansa moved from her place behind Tyrion, dropping down beside the chair "What do you think?"
"I don't know" he said, biting his lip
"The choice is yours" said Sansa "I'd understand if you wanted to just leave it as it is, but if you want to use that hand fully..."
"I do" he decided, turning to Wolkan "I'll do the treatment"
"Very good my lord" said the Maester, bowing his head "Your wrist and fingers will still need splinting but I'll need to construct something more severe for your hand. It will take a little while and this will hurt I'm afraid"
Her husband's face hardened as Sansa's stomach twisted. She was glad he'd chosen to try and fix his hand properly – she just wished it wasn't going to cause him more pain.
"I'm sorry" said Sansa "you don't deserve any of this"
"It's not your fault" said Tyrion, adding quietly "it was Gawan who had the hammer"
Sansa's stomach dropped and even Wolkan flinched at the words. She could almost imagine Gawan's wild face twisted in glee as he broke Tyrion's hand. A wave of guilt rolled through her. It had been three weeks and they still hadn't caught the monsters that hurt her husband so badly. More than anything she wanted their heads – if only to reassure Tyrion they were dead and couldn't hurt him. Instead she was going to have to tell Tyrion the truth sooner or later; that she'd failed to bring his captors to justice.
Strolling into her sister's chambers, Arya was pleased to see both Tyrion and Sansa already sat at the table waiting for her.
"Sister, brother" she greeted, dropping into a seat opposite them
"Nice of you to join us" said Sansa, quirking an eyebrow "we thought we were going to have to start without you"
"I wouldn't miss dinner" she said, turning her gaze to Tyrion "how did it go with Wolkan?"
She was pleased to see Tyrion looking more like himself; wearing a new tunic and breeches, although his arm was still in a sling and his face was pinched in pain.
"He's cleared me to leave the bed" said Tyrion
"Slowly and with help" added Sansa
"That's a good start" said Arya, grinning at her brother "Back on your feet in no time"
The door creaked opened and servants hurried in setting out various dishes of food for them. Sansa had thought a family dinner might be nice since Tyrion was allowed out of bed and Arya had happily agreed. Though looking at the discomfort on his face she wondered if it was a good idea right now.
"You ok Tyrion?" she asked
"I'm fine" he said, gripping at the table with his good hand
"You don't look fine"
"It's his hand" said Sansa, watching him with concern "some of the bones weren't healing properly so the Maester is trying a different treatment"
"It's a different splint that's pushing the bones towards their natural alignment. It's quite an interesting technique and rarely used - but the pressure it puts on the break…is rather uncomfortable" explained Tyrion, reaching for his fork
"He means agonising" corrected Sansa
"It sounds it" agreed Arya "Are you sure you're up to dinner?"
"Yes, I'm fine" he said, forcing a smile "it's nice to get out of bed"
Arya didn't believe he was fine and Sansa clearly didn't either, nonetheless Tyrion was determined to join them for dinner and the spread looked delicious. Different varieties of meat and vegetables were laid out for them and Arya was about to tuck in when she noticed a problem. How was Tyrion going to cut his food with only one hand? For the past week or so he'd been living off broth and different soups - this would be his first proper meal for weeks. Glancing at her brother, he appeared to have been struck by the same thought as he sat eyeing his knife sadly.
"Here, let me fill your plate" said Sansa, quickly seizing the dish
Tyrion slid down in his chair, bracing for the fact Sansa was going to have to cut his food. To both their surprise she returned his plate a moment later and the food was already cut to pieces. Arya looked closer at the spread and noticed all of the food was pre-cut into small pieces.
"There you go" said Sansa "enjoy"
The little Lannister's face lit up as he realised all of the food was pre-cut, turning a grateful smile to Sansa "Thank you"
"You're very welcome" she said, returning his smile
Arya's heart warmed at her sister's thoughtfulness. It was nice to see the growing closeness between them. Over the past week Arya had noticed Tyrion often looking to Sansa for reassurance, whereas before he'd hide his face from them both. It was exactly what he needed - the love of a family. Little by little he was letting them in and accepting his place in their family.
It was what Sansa needed too. Caring for Tyrion had rid her of the Queen of ice persona that had hidden the real Sansa Stark for so long. Her obvious love for her husband had brought out the best in her sister; a side Arya hadn't seen since childhood.
"So Tyrion" she started, spearing a piece of meat with her fork "Why's your hair all fluffy?"
Redness crept up his neck as he turned accusingly to Sansa "I told you Arya would notice"
"I knew that oil would do wonders for your hair"
Arya snorted "You let her near your hair? Gods that must have been Sansa's dream come true"
"It was" agreed Sansa, brushing a hand through his golden curls "so soft now"
Turning back to Tyrion, Arya dropped her voice to a whisper "You do realise Sansa's had a thing for curly hair since childhood? She asked Jon once if she could play with his, but he said no"
A faint blush tinged her sister's cheeks "Everyone complained I ignored Jon, and the one time I didn't he refused to play with me"
"She tricked me into it Arya" said Tyrion, mouth twitching upwards "I'm the victim in all this"
Sansa smirked at her husband "Rest assured my love - I will certainly victimise you again"
"Even Lyon keeps giving me funny looks"
Arya turned in her seat to find the direwolf drinking from his water bowl in the corner, head tilted to one side as he gazed at his master.
"I think you're right" said Arya, laughing at the expression on the wolf's face
"He's only jealous" said Sansa, nudging Tyrion "We can give him a bath too - then you'll both be soft and fluffy"
"You can't do that to him! When he goes hunting the prey will laugh at him - he needs to be taken seriously as a direwolf"
Lightness filled Arya as she listened to Sansa and Tyrion continue their gentle teasing. There was much to look forward to with Tyrion's name day and Bran's visit, but the fact Robin and Gawan had yet to face justice cast a shadow over their family. Arya forced a smile, clearing the thought. They would face justice sooner or later - for now she would focus on her family and making sure Tyrion recovered.
Sansa sank into her chair, fighting down the despair that was threatening to overwhelm her. It was easy enough to push down her fears when she was with Tyrion and focus solely on him - but when her duties as Queen demanded her attention, fear of rebellion nearly overwhelmed her.
Once again she found herself sat in Arya's room going through her old correspondence and reviewing her decisions as Queen. She worked alone tonight as Arya had left following dinner to do something or other that she wouldn't explain. She'd left Tyrion resting in their room with one of his friends; a man called Alec who had come to visit him. With her husband occupied she'd thrown herself back into the search for anything that could be used by Robin and Gawan to incite a rebellion against her.
The meeting with Karlon Mazin had rattled her. The young man had been full of contempt for her over her dismissal of his family's pleas for help. Truthfully she couldn't recall even reading any letters from house Mazin, though she did remember not having the time to see a representative of their house in court. She was one person - she couldn't do everything all of the time. Choices had to be made and thankfully Tyrion had dealt with whatever issue they'd had.
Her mind wandered to Arya's proposal of sharing the work load with a council. There was a definite need to ease her work but trusting the North to others was unthinkable - she wasn't sure she could trust anyone other than Arya and Tyrion. The longer she worked the more stress continued to pile on top of her, threatening to crush her under the heavy load.
There were so many worries. She hated having Grey Worm in the dungeon and knowing Robin and Gawan were still out there haunted her every thought. Rumours of rebellion had her on edge, seeing traitors in every corner. For the first time since becoming Queen, Sansa wanted to throw her crown away - it was just too heavy.
Bran's litter groaned and strained over the rough terrain – not that the King felt any of it as he flew overhead. Through the raven's eyes he watched as his procession of guards travelled towards Winterfell. They'd already been travelling for a week, and having to use a litter made their journey slower than if they were all on horseback. Nonetheless, in two weeks' time they would be in Winterfell.
He soared lower, flying just over head of Bronn and Brienne – both engaged in their mutual hobby of bickering.
"Way I see it, if it's life or death everyone makes the same choice. You wanna live you do anything you have to" said Bronn
Brienne's face was incredulous "So, if it was between your life or the lives of ten innocent children – you'd condemn them to die and save yourself?"
"Of course I would" snorted Bronn "Ain't no-one else gonna save me"
"You're unbelievable. Surely when you were knighted you made the same oath as every other anointed knight?"
"Aye, I did. Nice words they was too"
"You make no attempt to honour them though" said Brienne, gritting her teeth "You dishonour the person who knighted you"
Bronn turned to the lord commander "You know who knighted me? The good King Joffrey, after the battle of Blackwater. You think I feel bad for dishonouring the little shit?"
"Still, you're a lord now – it wouldn't kill you to honour the position"
"We don't know that. You know what happens to honourable men? They die. Ask Tyrion when you see him. He led the charge out of the mud gate and one of the Kings Guard tried to kill him"
Brienne dropped her gaze as her horse trotted along "Yes, Podrick told me about that"
"There you have it. Tyrion tried to be honourable even though he was serving his bastard of a nephew and look what it got him. A trial where everyone lined up to condemn the poor sod" said Bronn with a shrug
"Everyone condemned him and you didn't bother to speak up on his behalf"
"I like me more than I like him" said Bronn "his family were gonna be the death of him one way or another"
Bran flew past them as their discussion lapsed back into hypothetical what ifs. They couldn't be more different, but that was part of the reason he'd asked them both to join his council. Bronn's ruthlessness had its uses as did Brienne's honour – depending on the situation. Ser Davos was riding near the front of the group chatting amicably to some of the men.
Reluctantly, Bran returned to himself – his sworn shield sat opposite him. It was easy to loose himself when he flew, but the longer he stayed the harder it was to return. His mind could fly – but his body was a prison.
"Everything alright, Ser Podrick?"
The young man jumped in surprise, his back straightening in alertness.
"Yes, your Grace" he said "We seem to be making good progress"
"What do you think of honour?"
"I don't understand, your Grace"
"Brienne is very honourable, Bronn is very realistic. Which are you?"
Podrick's face grew tight at the question "I...Ser Brienne taught me how to be a knight...honour is everything in a good knight"
Bran smiled at Podrick. Of course he would defend Brienne. Pod was loyal above all else, and that was why he'd asked him to be sworn shield. He would undoubtedly make a great Kings Guard as he had originally wished to be, but Bran had refused him. Somehow it didn't quite fit.
Sansa rubbed her temples in an effort to ward of her growing headache. Lord Manderly and lord Glover had both been invited to Winterfell to celebrate the signing of the trade deal when Bran arrived in just under two weeks' time - and they'd both refused to come. She'd been incredibly reluctant to invite lord Glover given what his son had done and his refusal to help in the hunt for him, but maintaining a harmonious image was crucial for the North's stability. His reply had been biting, once again demanding she withdraw the accusations against Gawan and apologise. Lord Manderly's reply had at least been courteous, simply claiming he was unable to make it - but she could see through his words. He was standing beside Robett Glover, and the two were undoubtedly exchanging correspondence. House Manderly would not support her until she'd apologised for offending house Glover, of that she was certain.
Following the letter of rebellion that had been sent to house Mazin, Sansa had sent men to the Dreadfort on the off chance they could find Robin and Gawan hiding there. A raven had come in today declaring there had been no success and the men were on their way back. She'd suspected as much. The letter to lord Mazin had said to send a reply to the Dreadfort but Robin wasn't stupid enough to be hiding in the abandoned castle. Heaviness settled over her as she finished writing another letter demanding the capture of her former friends. She glanced around her desk searching for her seal.
"Looking for something?" asked Tyrion, propped up in the bed with a book balanced on his lap
At his words, little paws padded across the room depositing her drool covered direwolf seal at her feet.
"You left it on the stand" said Tyrion, smiling at her "Lyon wanted to help - and show you his new trick"
"Oh" she said, wiping the wetness off it "Thank you"
"Lyon, greet Sansa"
The golden direwolf straightened up on his hind legs, his front paws held in front of him as he let out a bark.
"Very good" she said, turning back to her letter
Lyon dropped back to all fours staring up at her. When the little creature didn't move, Sansa tore her gaze from her work once more, turning to look at Tyrion.
"Do you need something?" she asked
His smile faded "No Sansa, I'm fine"
Her gaze swept over him. He seemed ok sat in the bed, awkwardly trying to read the heavy book he'd asked Nessa to bring him. Tiredness hung over his face and she suspected the pain in his hand was bothering him.
"Your hand is hurting you" she said with a sigh "Do you want something for the pain?"
"No thank you"
Truthfully, she had no idea why Tyrion refused to take anything for his pain. They'd offered him milk of the poppy or something weaker, but he was adamant that he was fine and Sansa found she lacked the energy to convince him otherwise.
"If you want to sit there in pain, that's your choice" she said "I have offered you"
"I know Sansa" he said, fiddling with the edge of the book "Do you need anything?"
"I need to finish this" she said, turning away from him and back to her work
A soft growl reached her ears, and she looked down in time to see Lyon shoot away from her and scramble onto the bed next to Tyrion. There was so much to do, she didn't have time to pet Lyon nor did the wolf particularly enjoy her attention when she did give it him. Her anxiety over the situation in the North grew every day, with the replies from lord Manderly and lord Glover only adding to it.
Tyrion stumbled along the corridor, leaning on Sansa far more than he wanted to. Just after breakfast she'd decided to take him for a stroll along the corridor. The past two days he'd been making short trips around their chambers, but today was the first time he'd actually left the room in weeks. His ankle ached with each step, but it was nothing compared to the agony in his hand. Wolkan had said the treatment would hurt, but the violent aching that enveloped the limb bothered him throughout the day and night in equal measure. Sansa and the Maester kept offering him something for the pain but he wouldn't take it. Whatever medicine he took always made his nightmares worse - the imagery cruel and aggressive. He knew Sansa thought it was just stubbornness, but he hated the things he saw in his sleep. The pain in his hand was nothing compared to the pain his mind could inflict on him.
"Come on" said Sansa "there's a bench up here"
He sank gratefully onto the bench, turning to look out the window at the snow covered courtyard.
"The snow is quite beautiful when you get used to it" he said "it's hard to remember what Winterfell was like when I came with King Robert. I'm fairly sure it was cold - but not covered in snow like now"
When Sansa didn't reply, he turned back to see her stood a little way from him - lost in thought.
"Sansa, are you alright?"
"Fine" she said, crossing her arms "Ready to go back?"
His heart sank as she quickly moved to lead him back to their chambers, crouching down to take some of his weight. It was nice to leave the room he'd spent so long trapped in, but they'd only been out for a few minutes. Still, he made no complaint as Sansa helped him back to their room. He bit his lip considering Sansa. The past day or so she'd grown distant and Tyrion had started to wonder if he'd done something wrong. He knew caring for him was a burden, no matter what Sansa said…had she grown tired of him?
Tyrion didn't mean to bother Sansa, but he found himself growing increasingly attached to her. The past few weeks she'd seemed to enjoy being close to him too, but if she wanted space or didn't enjoy his company he didn't want to trouble her either.
A grin split across Arya's face as Tyrion walked into her room, Sansa's arm wrapped tightly around him for support. The hearth was burning merrily at one side of the room, as the mid afternoon sun lit up the space.
"Good to see you on your feet Tyrion" she said, moving towards them
"Yes" he said, panting somewhat "though I fear my progress is rather slow"
"It's still progress" she said
A little bark echoed around the room as Lyon trotted in after them.
"I hope you don't mind another visitor" said Tyrion "He followed us here"
"Of course not" she said, bending down to stroke the wolf "Hello Lyon"
Sansa tapped her foot as she held her husband upright "Where do you want Tyrion to sit?"
"Over at the table" she said, gesturing to one of the chairs by the window "I thought we could play a game"
Arya's eyes narrowed at her sister as she quickly led him to the table. Why was she in such a hurry to leave? Tyrion had apparently left their room for a very quick walk yesterday but this was the furthest he'd been able to go. She thought Sansa would want to celebrate his achievement, but she seemed in a poor mood.
Tyrion's face lit up as he saw the cyvasse board on the table "You play cyvasse?"
"Oh I play, the question is; do you?"
"Challenge accepted" he said, dropping into one chair as Arya took her place in the other
"Do you want to stay and play Sansa?" she asked, turning to her older sister
The Queen looked distracted as she answered "I've no idea how"
"I can teach you" offered Tyrion, smiling hopefully at her "Then we can both beat Arya"
"It's good to dream big brother"
Something was off with Sansa. She seemed in a hurry to leave Tyrion and be gone, whereas the past few weeks she'd refused to leave his side. Even a few days ago she was fretting over him like a mother hen.
Her sister shook her head "Another time - I have things that need my attention"
"Of course" said Tyrion, face falling slightly "Thank you for helping me here"
"I'll leave you to your game" she said "Arya will help you back later"
Tyrion gazed up at Sansa expectantly, hurt flickering across his face as she left without another word. Her brother dropped his gaze to the game board, toying with one of the pieces. Sansa's sudden coldness over the last couple of days was as unsettling as it was unexpected. Tyrion seemed as surprised by the change in behaviour as Arya was, but it took her a moment to realise what had hurt him. When she did, her heart ached.
Sansa hadn't kissed him goodbye.
Arya had noticed her sister's habit which had developed since Tyrion returned. She never left her husband without giving him that token of affection, normally accompanied by reminding him of her love. Whether consciously or not Tyrion had come to rely on the reassuring gesture - and had apparently noticed its absence. Sympathy swelled in her for Tyrion. Sansa had doted on him the past few weeks and her sudden distance had clearly unsettled him. The last thing they needed was for Sansa to retreat behind her walls of ice once more. It had taken Tyrion's kidnapping and near death to draw her out.
At the same time, Sansa needed to recognise her own behaviour and Tyrion needed to be comfortable enough with his wife to point it out - she wasn't always going to be here. Arya would keep an eye on her sister though. Tyrion wasn't well and if he needed her to step in with Sansa she would gladly do so, but Arya hoped Sansa would recognise how damaging her behaviour could be to what she was building with Tyrion. Throughout her traumatic years since leaving Winterfell, it was obvious her sister had developed unhealthy coping mechanisms, but only Sansa could change them.
"Are you ready to play?" asked Tyrion, fiddling half-heartedly with one of the figures
"Depends - are you ready to lose?"
He tried a smile but his discomfort was obvious as he sat stiffly opposite her.
"Is your hand still hurting?" she asked
"Its fine" he said with a shrug "Maester Wolkan said the first week would be the worst"
"I'm sorry"
"It's not your fault"
Arya smiled sadly at him "Yeah, but you didn't deserve any of this"
"It's over now" he said shifting uncomfortably "It's been a long time since I played cyvasse"
"Well I certainly won't be going easy on you"
"I'd expect nothing less"
Arya let Tyrion start the game, though her mind was far from focused on it. It was easy to brush aside what he'd suffered now he was recovering and his mood had picked up somewhat, but they couldn't afford to forget he still wasn't well. His body would heal in time, but his mind needed to be treated delicately. They'd made good progress, and Arya wouldn't let that be set back. Sansa had made a lot of progress too with many of her long repressed emotions coming to the surface. If Sansa slipped back behind her ice walls, Tyrion would close off from them once more - of that Arya had no doubt.
A hollow ache rose in Tyrion's chest as he wound his fingers tightly into Lyon's fur. Sansa had barely spoken to him all day, consumed in her work as she was. He didn't want to bother her but she had seemed out of sorts the past couple of days. Her smiles had grown fewer as the warmth she'd once eagerly given him frosted over. He'd tried to cheer her up - seeing Sansa sad always hurt him.
This morning he'd asked if they could go for a walk, but she'd left him in bed - distractedly telling him later. He didn't mind if she was busy. He could sit in the bed. It didn't bother him that she hadn't helped him get dressed either - at least he could wear the bed clothes Esther had sent him. Throughout the morning he'd made several attempts to talk to Sansa but after she didn't answer his last attempt he'd given up. She was busy now, it would be better later.
Lunch had come and gone without any food, though Sansa did leave their chambers for a time. It didn't matter - he wasn't hungry. She returned to their chambers and resumed her work without even sparing him a glance. His stomach twisted in knots as the day crept on.
What had he done wrong?
Everything had been fine between them a couple of days ago, now it was all different. At some point Lyon had joined him on the bed and he sat stroking his friend as his mind combed through everything he'd said and done the past couple of days. There had to be something he'd done wrong.
Had Sansa got bored of him?
His thoughts turned increasingly dark as dinner also came and went without any change. He'd screwed this up somehow. Tyrion's throat grew tight as he looked across at the fiery haired Queen. It was hard to tell from the bed but it looked as though she'd fallen asleep in the armchair. The pain in his hand was getting worse too, a violent throbbing that spread like fire throughout the broken limb.
Lyon seemed to sense his distress, nudging against him and licking his face. He appreciated his little friend more than ever, but even his attentions couldn't make up for the growing hole in his heart. Sansa had spent the last few weeks repeatedly expressing her love for him and like a fool he'd started to believe it.
'I told you so' taunted his mind 'Who could ever love you?'
Tyrion didn't want to believe that dark voice, but the evidence was mounting up. Sansa wanted nothing to do with him. All day he'd sat forgotten in bed, trying not to bother her. Tears burned at his eyes - what had he done wrong?
"The Queen in the North no longer" declared Gawan, tearing the crown from her head and tossing it aside
She was on her knees outside the gate of Winterfell, her shoulders shaking at the takeover of her home. A huge crowd of Northerners surrounded her, laughing and jeering at the pathetic state of their fallen Queen. Sansa took in shuddering breaths as tears streamed down her face - this was like Kings Landing all over again. She was nothing, she had no power; she was only a pawn to be used and tossed aside.
"Hail the new ruler of the North; King Robin Flint" shouted Gawan as the crowd parted to let her former friend through.
He wore fine clothes with a newly made crown sat atop his sharp face. A smirk twisted his mouth as the crowd eagerly began chanting for the King in the North. Gawan stood to his side, bouncing up and down in excitement.
"Show her Robin" he urged, grinning manically at her
Sansa wanted to curl up and die. She'd defended the North and bought them independence; and they'd tossed her aside like she was nothing.
"I intend to be a just King for the people - and will rule the North far better than the Starks. Their days are done; the wolves are dead!" shouted Robin, to huge applause
Icy fear slithered through Sansa at his words as several guards strode from behind the new King, dragging something between them. The men tossed what they were carrying before her and Sansa shrank back in terror at the sight that met her eyes.
No, it couldn't be…
"No, no, no" she pleaded, denying the horrid image
"Oh yes" sang Gawan, stepping closer "I enjoyed killing your sister; she never liked me very much"
Arya's lifeless eyes stared up at her, her throat cut to the bone.
Bile clawed up Sansa's throat, as she reached towards her dead sister.
"Arya" she said, voice trembling "I'm so sorry"
"The wolves reign is over" said Robin, cruel eyes glinting as the crowd laughed around her "soon they will all be dead – just like the lions"
Sansa's heart stopped as more guards appeared and tossed a small body next to Arya's. Unlike her sister, Tyrion was beaten nearly beyond recognition. His body was bent and twisted, with blood coating most of him. What remained of his clothes was nothing more than rags.
"Tyrion" she sobbed, scrambling towards him
"Killing Arya was fun but nowhere near as fun as playing with your pet lion" said Gawan moving closer
As her hand brushed his face, Tyrion's green eyes fluttered open – filled with pain.
"Sansa" he croaked "you promised..."
"Tyrion" she whispered, tears cascading down her face "I'm so sorry"
"promised...to protect me"
"I'm sorry" she begged "stay with me"
"Enough of that" said Gawan, looming over them
Sansa threw herself forwards to shield Tyrion with her own body, but rough hands grasped hold of her pulling her away.
"No! Tyrion, no – leave him alone" she begged as the crowd's jeers grew louder
"As the King in the North, I hereby sentence Tyrion Lannister to death" said Robin, nodding at Gawan
The young lord Glover dropped to one knee next to her broken husband and roughly grasped his hair lifting his head up.
"It's been fun but your time has come Lannister" said Gawan, flashing a grin as he lifted a knife to Tyrion's throat
"No. Mercy, please! No, no" she sobbed as the knife was dragged slowly across her husband's throat, unleashing a flood of red as Tyrion's warm eyes turned cold
Sansa moaned in her dream as something wet brushed against her face.
"Sansa!" called a familiar voice
She jerked awake to see green eyes staring up at her, her face wet with drool.
"Lyon?"
She'd fell asleep in an armchair next to the hearth, piles of work spread around her. The direwolf was sitting on top of her, in the midst of licking her awake. His mission complete, Lyon jumped off her and trotted back towards the bed.
"Sansa, are you alright?"
She turned to see Tyrion staggering towards her, having somehow pulled himself from bed.
"Stay right there" she ordered, pushing herself quickly from the chair and seizing hold of Tyrion
Her husband was trembling where he stood but had made it nearly halfway from the bed to her. Looping her arm around him she supported his weight and brought him to sit on the chaise opposite the hearth. His breathing was heavy as he sank onto the chair, while Sansa stood glowering down at him.
"You're not supposed to move without help" she said, crossing her arms
He shrank under her gaze "I know…but you were so upset"
"You could have hurt yourself!"
"I'm sorry…"
Fear and anxiety collided, turning her tone sharp "Do you want to end up sick again?"
"No I-"
"You said you don't want to end up a cripple, and then do the one thing you were told not to!"
"You've seemed stressed the past couple of days, and you were crying in your sleep" he whispered, dropping his gaze "I wanted to help you"
Sansa rolled her shoulders, pent up tension bubbling through her. The image of her dream was horrible enough, but waking to find Tyrion so close to hurting himself had rattled her even more.
"I'm not stressed and you don't need to help me" she said, voice hardening
"Have I done something to upset you? Before now I mean" he asked quietly
"Why would you think that?"
Tyrion wouldn't look at her, instead staring at the floor "It's just…you've…I mean"
"I've what?" she said, grinding her teeth "Why do you look so afraid of me? I'm not going to hit you for sevens sake!"
His face froze at her harsh tone, but Sansa was unable to stop her own fear and stress from escaping her.
"I don't have time to play games like you and Arya. Either tell me what's bothering you or go back to bed!"
Almost as soon as the words left her mouth she wished she could take them back. Tyrion's face crumpled as she spoke, hurt shining from his green eyes.
"Oh, Tyrion I-"
"Why should I?" he snapped, eyes suddenly blazing "You don't tell me what bothers you! You don't tell me anything"
She stood rooted to the spot, all of the worries that had seemed so significant before fading to nothing in the face of Tyrion's anguish.
"You tell me I'm your husband - that this is home, but you've barely spoken to me for the last couple of days!"
Sansa jerked backwards as though slapped "Tyrion I-"
"I never asked for any of this!" he said, voice rising "You brought me here. You wanted me here. I'd made peace with death in Kings Landing - and in the Wolfswood! I was ready to die but you promised you loved me, and as soon as I start to believe that you push me away"
"I do love you" she pleaded, her heart breaking at the pain in his face "more than anything - I love you"
Tyrion screwed his eyes shut at her words, drawing in a shuddering breath.
"You say I have nothing to be ashamed of - that they didn't break me in the Wolfswood. How do you expect me to believe that, when you don't?"
"I don't understand, please-"
Tyrion's tears spilled from his eyes, voice growing quiet "Do you really think I haven't noticed how you all avoid mentioning anything work related around me? Before they hurt me you asked my advice on a lot of things, but not anymore. You don't trust me now"
"No! Tyrion, I trust you more than anyone else in the world" she protested
"Were you ever going to tell me those vicious bastards were still out there?"
Sansa paled "Of course I was going to tell you..."
The anger left his face as suddenly as it came, replaced by a deep rooted sadness.
"I know I'm not the lord of Winterfell anymore. I understand – I really do. After what happened it wouldn't be proper. I don't care if you never asked for my help with your work again" he said, voice breaking "None of that mattered because...I still had you. Now I don't even have that!"
"I'm yours Tyrion, always yours" she promised
He shook his head "You don't want me anymore. I knew this would happen – it always happen"
Sansa was at a loss. She'd regretted her thoughtless words as soon as she'd said them, but she never imagined it would unleash such emotion in Tyrion.
"What did I do wrong?" he asked; red rimmed eyes gazing up at her "I must have done something wrong"
"You've not done anything wrong" she said, a lump forming in her throat
"I've messed it up somehow. I always do. Why else would you turn so cold towards me so suddenly?" he said, tears racing down his face "The other day everything seemed...so good"
Tyrion's words cut her like a knife, slashing through her defences and exposing the truth. Her heart constricted at the realisation – Tyrion was right. He was recovering more each day and her mind had wandered back to her duties as Queen, unknowingly retreating behind the mask of ice she'd worn for so long. The behaviour was so deeply ingrained she hadn't even been aware she was doing it until confronted with the consequences.
A lump formed in her throat as Tyrion sat quietly crying before her, his good hand wiping furiously at his face to hide the tears. Since she'd been gifted a second chance with Tyrion, Sansa had worked tirelessly to make amends and win his trust. It had been working - everyday they seemed to get a little closer. Yet her sudden return to the Queen of ice had made a liar of every reassurance she'd told him. Casting doubt where she'd worked hard to vanquish it.
'I don't want to be alone anymore'
He'd told her that a few times since returning to Winterfell, and she'd promised he never would be. A promise she'd broken. Shielding herself from the ever growing pressure of ruling had left Tyrion alone in the cold, wondering what had extinguished the warmth he'd come to know. Sansa was suddenly aware that she hadn't moved or spoken; instead she stood staring at her distressed husband.
Wasting no more time she dropped onto the chaise next to Tyrion, reaching out to take him in her arms.
"I'm so sorry Tyrion" she said, her heart aching when he leaned away from her
"Don't bother pretending" he sniffed "I know its pity now"
"No it's not" she said firmly, clamping her arms tightly around him
He squirmed in her grasp, but Sansa had to apologise – to make him understand. She pressed a long kiss to his head, pulling him closer.
"I am so sorry my love" she said "You're right – I have been pushing you away. I didn't even realise I was doing it until you pointed it out. I'm sorry for snapping at you. Work has me stressed, not you. I shouldn't have taken it out on you"
He sat stiffly in her embrace; face turned away from her "Its fine Sansa. I shouldn't have said any of that to you. Do you want me to go now?"
"Go where?"
"Away" he said with a shrug
She tightened her grip, guilt winding through her "No sweetheart, you're not going anywhere. This is home"
"I shouted at you"
"Tyrion, please look at me"
Reluctantly, he turned to face her. The anger had gone from his eyes, replaced by a deep rooted fear. Sansa rubbed her hand over his back, keeping him against her.
"This is your home. I'm not going to throw you out because you're upset – which you have every right to be. You will never be sent away, no matter what"
"I'm being selfish. You're a Queen; you have plenty of responsibilities without me burdening you. I'm sorry"
"Don't apologise" she said fiercely "this is my fault – not yours. Pushing you away is the last thing I would want to do. I love you, and having you close to me has made me happier than you could ever know"
Silence fell between them and Sansa continued trying to soothe him to no avail. It was as she rubbed his back she noticed he was wearing the bed clothes Esther had sent him. Her brow furrowed trying to recall getting him ready for bed. It was well past dinner but there was still some light outside – too early to have helped him dress for sleep. Surely, she hadn't forgotten to help him dress this morning?
Panic seized her and she rapidly analysed the day, hoping it wasn't true. She remembered Tyrion asking this morning if they could go for a walk and she vaguely recalled telling him later. Her stomach rolled violently as the implication sank in. She'd left him in bed all day. Had he even eaten? She'd left their chambers for a while to sort some work out and had grabbed a quick snack - never sparing a thought for Tyrion. They normally ate together as he still needed some help. Sansa had been working at the desk most of the day and recalled Tyrion trying to make conversation with her this morning, but the more she considered it he'd grown even quieter than usual over the course of the day – silently holding Lyon on the bed.
"We never went for a walk, did we?" she said, her stomach rolling as he shook his head. Tyrion never asked her for anything and the one thing he did ask for she'd refused "You've not eaten all day either"
"It doesn't matter" he said, finally lifting his head to look at her.
"Of course it matters"
His green eyes were watery and filled with self-hatred as he met her gaze "I'm so sorry Sansa. I never meant to worry you, or complain…You do so much for me and I…I hate not being able to do anything for you. When I heard you crying in your sleep…I thought maybe I could help. When I have nightmares you're always there for me"
Sansa wasn't sure it was possible to feel any worse. He'd left the bed to try and comfort her - and she'd scolded him like a naughty child.
"I never should have spoken to you like that" she said "You're right Tyrion. I always ask you to tell me what's bothering you, and I don't do the same with you"
He was still crying as she rubbed his back, despite his attempts to stop the tears. This was a long time coming, she realised. It was stupid to think just because he'd forgiven her so easily he didn't have some buried anger over his situation. Her sudden coldness to him had more than likely brought it to the surface. Watching Tyrion, his face twisted in pain as he rubbed at his bandaged arm. Like a lion with a thorn in its paw - the pain in his hand was clearly wearing him down.
"Can I get you something for the pain?" she asked "Your hand is really hurting you, isn't it?"
"It's fine" he said, gritting his teeth
"Why won't you have any medicine? It'll make you feel better"
She had to strain to hear his quiet reply "Makes my dreams worse"
"I'm sorry Tyrion" she said, making a note to speak to Wolkan about it tomorrow "I had no idea that was why you wouldn't take the medicine. I thought it was some kind of male pride"
A bitter smile crossed his face "I have no pride left"
Sansa deflated, pulling him against her again. She needed to talk to him about Robin and Gawan, and everything else he'd said but it was increasingly obvious he wasn't up for a talk like that tonight. That could be dealt with tomorrow, now the most pressing concern was apologising for her behaviour and reassuring Tyrion. She didn't want to let this melancholy cling to him. The past week he'd seemed happier than he had in a long time and she hated that her behaviour had upset that.
"Do you want to go for a walk?" she asked, offering him a smile "It's not that late, we can go and see Arya if you like"
Tyrion shook his head, his gaze distant as he stared at the crackling hearth.
"What book have you been reading? I can read to you"
"No, thank you Sansa" he said, voice hoarse "I think…I should go to bed"
Her face fell "Ok sweetheart. Is there nothing I can do for you?"
"No, I'm fine"
Her heart crumbled as she moved to help Tyrion back to bed. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she guided him to the edge of the chaise, lightly kissing his head as she helped him stand. He was shaking more than usual and trying not to lean on her as they made their way across the room. Tyrion said nothing as she helped him into bed, though his pale, tear stained face spoke volumes. Rather than let him lie down, she quickly propped the pillow behind him settling him against it. He didn't comment on the position, though he started to fidget nervously with his sling.
Sansa sat on the edge of the bed, taking hold of his fidgeting hand and rubbing circles on the back of it.
"I'm sorry I've been so cold to you the past couple of days. Pushing you away is the last thing I would ever want to do. Tomorrow I'll tell you everything that's been going on, I promise"
"You don't have to do that Sansa" he said, eyes downcast "I don't care about any of that - I care about you"
Warmth spread through her at his words "I know you do"
"I hate seeing you unhappy. I could never make you happy in Kings Landing either"
"I wasn't happy in Kings Landing" she admitted, squeezing his hand "but you were the only person in a long time that made me feel safe and protected. There are a lot of things worrying me at the moment - and I should have shared them with you. Please understand; I was only trying to protect you Tyrion. You suffered so much I didn't want to add to it"
"I'm supposed to be your husband" he said, staring at the bed "I could help you"
"You are my husband and I'd very much like your help - if you're still willing?"
The ghost of a smile flitted across his face "Always"
She leaned forwards gently pulling Tyrion into a hug, her heart fluttering when he hesitantly returned it.
"Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?" she said, not wanting to let go "I can hold you while you rest if you like?"
"No thank you" he murmured "I just…need to sleep"
The rejection was expected but it still stung somewhat. She squeezed him against her, pressing a lingering kiss to his head before pulling back.
Uncertain green eyes looked up at her as she helped him settle down to sleep.
"Are you ok?" he ventured "Your dream…seemed terrible"
The dark images drifted through her mind, sending a shudder through her.
"It was horrible" she admitted "Arya was dead…and you were killed in front of me. I tried to protect you, but I couldn't - I failed you again"
"You've never failed me"
She gazed fondly at her husband. Her actions however unintentional had hurt him badly, shaking the fragile trust building between them - but he still wanted to comfort her.
"I wish that was true" she said, brushing her hand through his hair "I'll do whatever it takes to protect you though - I promise you that"
"I know you will" he said, offering her a sad smile "I just wished you'd let me protect you too"
Sansa's eyes burned with unshed tears as a wide smile crossed her face. How she loved Tyrion. No matter how much pain he was in, her little lion was always concerned about her welfare first. Tucking the covers tightly around him, she kissed his forehead as she rose from the bed.
"Sleep well Tyrion. I love you so very much - please don't ever doubt that"
As she moved away Lyon trotted past her, climbing next to Tyrion on the bed. The direwolf seemed to glare at her before snuggling against his master.
His message was loud and clear 'You've done enough, let me handle him'
It was as she sank back into an armchair by the hearth, a whisper so faint she could have imagined it drifted to her ears.
"I love you too"
When Tyrion awoke the next morning it was to an empty bed - apart from Lyon who was drooling all over him. He stroked the wolf's back wondering how big he would eventually get. Both Arya and Sansa had told him Lyon seemed smaller than their wolves had been, but Tyrion didn't care if his friend was little like him. His initial fear of the direwolf had long ago dissolved and he couldn't imagine life without Lyon anymore. Green eyes blinked up at him a moment later, a little bark echoing around the room.
"Good morning to you too" he said, as the wolf stretched and moved off him
Pushing himself up until he was leaning against the headboard, Tyrion found himself at a loss. He'd never meant to snap at Sansa like he had last night. She'd been moaning and crying as she dozed in the armchair - he'd only wanted to see if she was ok. When she'd started berating him, a torrent of long withheld emotion had escaped. His face burned recalling the things he'd said before sobbing like a spoilt child. If Sansa didn't hate him before she must now.
Yet she'd been nothing but kind to him as he broke down. Whatever ice she'd shown him had instantly dissolved giving way to the warmth he'd come to depend on. Her abrupt coldness had hurt more than Gawan with the hammer and Tyrion had feared he'd somehow lost her love, but she'd been quick to reassure him last night. His outburst surely seemed ridiculous to her – he'd wanted to tell Sansa the truth. It was a truth he was only just starting to accept, but Sansa's sudden distance from him had left him in no doubt.
He loved Sansa - denying it any longer was pointless.
When she'd helped him to bed and kissed him goodnight, she'd told him she loved him – as she often did. Last night he'd wanted to return the sentiment, but his words had deserted him until she'd already left his side. Why was it so hard to get the words out? In the end he'd whispered it when Sansa was likely too far away to hear him. Sansa's distance the past few days had exposed how utterly dependent he'd grown on her – the possibility of losing her had terrified him.
The door creaked open, drawing Tyrion from his thoughts. Sansa slipped into the room, smiling warmly as she saw him awake. A knot of tension unwound at the sight. In the back of his mind he'd feared she would turn cold on him again, but her blue eyes held nothing but tenderness as she came to the bedside.
"Good morning" she said, giving him a quick kiss before perching on the edge of the bed
"Morning" he said, turning away from her kind gaze "About last night, I'm so sorr-"
"Don't you dare apologise" she said, cupping his face "I'm glad you called out my behaviour. Otherwise I would have carried on without even realising what I was doing. There's a lot we need to talk about, but first you need to take your medicine and eat a good breakfast"
"Medicine? Sansa, please – it makes me see horrible things"
"This is different" she promised, pulling out a small package "It won't make you sleep but it should take the edge of the pain. When I explained to Maester Wolkan why you wouldn't take any of the normal ones he understood completely. We just put some of these herbs in with hot water and then you drink it"
Tyrion's throat grew tight "Thank you – my hand has been hurting"
"I know it has. Hopefully this will help" she said "now let's get you ready"
Tyrion kept watching Sansa for signs she was upset over his behaviour last night, but she seemed back to normal as she helped him dress and walked him over to the table. She passed him a cup with the foul smelling new medicine in. He grimaced at the scent but Sansa was watching him expectantly. The taste was no improvement on the smell; seeming to have some kind of grassy texture - but he quickly downed the cup.
"It smelt bad" she said "How did it taste?"
"Absolutely no better"
"Good. Mother always said the worse a medicine tastes the better it is for you"
They hadn't been sat down long when the door opened and two servants entered with plates full of food. The scent of his favourite wafted across to him as the plates were set down.
"Bacon burnt black" he said with a contended sigh "no finer delicacy"
Sansa scrunched her nose "Whatever you enjoy. I'll stick to my unburnt bacon I think"
One of the many things he appreciated about Sansa was her thoughtfulness. Since he'd graduated to eating proper food again she'd clearly given orders to the kitchen staff to pre-cut all the food that was brought to them. While Sansa still had to help him fill his plate, it restored some of his dignity to not have her cutting his food like a child. They ate quietly, though Sansa was quick to pile seconds on his plate when he was nearing the end of his food.
"You didn't eat at all yesterday" she said by way of explanation
"I'm not going to starve because I missed a meal"
"You missed all your meals and I certainly won't let you starve"
He was already quite full, but Sansa was watching him guiltily so he forced down more of the breakfast to appease her. Tyrion knew when he finished Sansa would want to talk to him but he would much rather forget his pathetic outburst last night.
Sansa thanked the servants as they quickly cleared away the breakfast, the door closing softly behind them until only she and Tyrion remained. Her husband was sat to her right, nervously drumming his fingers against the table. This talk was long overdue, as Tyrion's words last night had shown. Guilt swelled within her recalling how upset he was. Fortunately he seemed much better today and she suspected the pain in his hand had contributed to last night's frustration. Sansa was glad he'd told her how he felt - however angry he was.
The Tyrion she'd known in Kings Landing would have debated with her all night - a wine glass in hand. Sansa knew how to contend with the old Tyrion, but he was so quiet and withdrawn these days she wasn't sure how to handle him anymore. It was as if the armour he'd once worn had been torn away leaving behind someone entirely different. Traces of the old Tyrion remained and she saw them from time to time, but Sansa couldn't fall into the trap of expecting him to act as he once had. He was a different man now and she was fully committed to learning who he was.
'I love you too'
The words had been so faint part of her wondered if it had been wishful thinking, but in her heart she knew Tyrion had spoken them. Hearing those words, whether he intended her to hear them or not had filled her with an inexplicable joy - followed swiftly by shame for being the cause of his upset last night. Sansa certainly wasn't going to ask Tyrion to clarify what he'd said. Even if he never said it to her face she knew how much he cared for her; she'd always known.
Glancing at his anxious face, Sansa smiled reassuringly. She hoped this talk would ease some of his insecurities and reaffirm his place in their family.
"We need to talk" she said, drawing his attention "Tyrion, I'm so sorry but you're right – we haven't caught Robin and Gawan yet"
Tyrion's face grew tight "I know"
"Who told you?"
"No-one told me – I figured it out myself" he said with a sigh "You and Arya are both very quick to reassure me they won't hurt me again; that you'll protect me. I appreciate that more than you could ever know, but you've never once told me they were dead. If they were I don't doubt you would have told me immediately and reminded me often. After all it's the biggest reassurance you could give me"
Tyrion had figured it out himself – of course he had. He was the cleverest man she knew; of course he could see through their words. Sansa felt ashamed. Firstly for naively believing he would't figure it out and secondly for not being able to give him the heads of his tormentors.
"I'm so sorry for not telling you" she said, swallowing thickly "I didn't want to worry you and I kept hoping we would capture them before you asked"
"I understand Sansa"
"There's something else. We did capture Grey Worm - he's in the dungeon. He will face justice for what's he done, but there will be a trial first. I don't want you to worry at all, he's under heavy guard and won't get anywhere near you"
Tyrion's face paled "Ah, I saw Arya take him prisoner in the Wolfswood. I wondered what had happened to him"
"Why didn't you ask?"
Sansa already suspected the answer from what he'd said last night, but he'd been so upset she wanted to be certain of his thoughts before proceeding.
Tyrion squirmed uneasily in his chair "I didn't think it was my place anymore"
"Why would you think that? This is your home"
"Well...I've been back for weeks and...everyone is quite careful to not mention anything work related around me" he said, dropping his gaze "Like I said last night - I completely understand. After everything that happened, it wouldn't be proper..."
"What wouldn't be proper?"
"Sansa...I know I'm not the lord of Winterfell anymore"
He'd said as much last night but she hadn't thought he actually believed that - she'd hoped it was just his fears talking.
She stared directly at Tyrion when she answered "Of course you are"
"I can't be Sansa – most of the North must know what happened in the Wolfswood. It would be shameful for me to carry on"
"All of the North knows" she said, watching him flinch "they know exactly the kind of man you are"
Tyrion hung his head "I'm no longer fit to bear that title – not that I ever was"
"Stop that" she said, lightly grasping his face and bringing his gaze to meet hers "You are more than worthy of that title and you will be the lord of Winterfell until the day you die – many, many years from now"
"You said everyone knows..."
"They do know. Word of what you did has spread through the North like wildfire. Everyone knows how brave and strong you are. They all know how the lord of Winterfell heroically saved innocent girls from slavery no matter what it cost him"
Sansa watched Tyrion process her words, hating the doubt that lurked in his eyes. Did he really think they'd stripped him of his title?
'You made sure he lost his family's titles' whispered her guilt
She'd longed for his help and advice these past weeks, but she'd held off asking while he recovered. Sansa had thought she was protecting him, but it had only made him doubt her trust in him. In truth she hadn't realised how much he valued advising her.
Familiar shame twisted her stomach as she brushed her thumb over her husband's cheek "I'm sorry Tyrion – I had no idea you'd taken my silence about the North as not trusting you or losing your position. I told everyone to not mention anything to you until you were well enough to ask yourself. I wasn't trying to keep secrets from you; I just wanted to protect you. When you were stronger I thought you would ask, but you never did. With Bran coming I was going to have to tell you everything even if you didn't ask"
Uncertain green eyes moved up to meet hers "If I'm still the lord of Winterfell, will you let me help you? I assume its issues in the North that have been bothering you. You're not alone Sansa"
"I appreciate that very much Tyrion and I would love your help" she said, smiling warmly at him "You're still recovering though. There is no rush at all to return to your duties - take all the time you need"
"I may be somewhat useless at the moment but I can still do some work. You've been doing everything alone haven't you? Let me help"
Sansa wasn't going to refuse him - his confidence was shattered and stopping him from returning to work wasn't going to help that.
"Alright" she conceded "I'll clear you to return to some duties, but you are by no means going to work as you used to. There will be proper meals and plenty of rest – without exception"
Tyrion's face brightened "Good. Bed rest is quite boring you know"
"Oh, there'll still be plenty of bed rest" she said, letting go of his face "If you're feeling up to it we can go to a meeting with Wolkan and Arya later. We're going over the situation in the North and we'll catch you up on everything then"
"Alright" he agreed "Whatever's troubling you, I'm sure it's nothing - you're a great Queen"
Her stomach churned "I'll agree to disagree on that"
"I rather missed my duties as lord of Winterfell you know. Surprisingly for a Lannister, I've found I like helping the small folk who come before me. They are far more interesting than most of the highborn lords and ladies" he said, mouth turning upwards
"You're an excellent lord and I don't find that at all surprising" she said, taking hold of his hand "Just remember you're only returning to minimal duties for now"
Tyrion grinned at her "As my Queen commands"
"A royal decree" she said, squeezing his hand "the lord of Winterfell must take naps throughout the day and eat at least three meals"
"The lord of Winterfell sounds rather lazy"
"He's not, but he will be if I have my way"
"Plump too - if he eats and naps that much"
"Your clothes won't look so baggy at least"
A little whine drew her attention and she looked down to see Lyon nudging against Tyrion.
"I leave you for a few minutes and you're desperate for attention?" said Tyrion, scratching the wolf behind the ears
Sansa's heart fluttered at the smile on Tyrion's face. She loved it when he was happy and they could have fun with each other. Things between them were back on track, but it didn't erase the lingering guilt for her coldness towards him.
Reaching across she kissed his cheek as Lyon climbed into his lap "I'm glad you're feeling better. I'm sorry for being so cold to you the last couple of days - it won't happen again"
Tyrion rolled his eyes at her, a playful smile tugging at his mouth "I already forgave you Sansa – Lyon on the other hand, might need convincing"
Sansa laughed as a fluffy golden face was shoved towards her "I'm sorry Lyon. You were so helpful finding my direwolf seal, and that trick you did was very impressive"
Lyon cocked his head to one side considering her, before glancing back at Tyrion.
"I know you worked very hard on that trick" Tyrion told him, stroking his back "but Sansa was worried about the North. Queen's don't have easy lives like you"
Lyon barked, in what Sansa could only assume was disagreement.
"I need you to make nice with Sansa" he said "she's been run off her feet looking after me and bringing you bowls of water. I hate to tell you – but it's not me that remembers to refill it"
The direwolf considered her again and Sansa reached out to stroke behind his ears as Tyrion had once told her he liked best. He made no protest, but his green eyes kept moving back to his master as if to say 'can I go now?'
Lyon endured another ear rub before licking Tyrion and leaping off his master, wandering towards the hearth.
"The wound is still fresh" said Tyrion, shaking his head "Give him time and he'll come around"
"Lyon tolerates me at best. You're the only one he loves"
"Hmm, it did take rather a lot of convincing to get him to lick you awake"
"I did wonder why he was drooling over me when I woke up" she said, raising her eyebrow at Tyrion
"Getting out of bed wasn't my first plan. I dispatched Lyon first, but his attempts were unsuccessful"
"So then you decided to get out of bed?"
Tyrion squirmed guiltily "Well he seemed to be taking certain liberties with you – I had to defend your honour!"
Sansa laughed, taking hold of his face.
"I love you" she said, kissing his head
Her husband opened his mouth to say something, before closing it quickly – shooting her a warm smile instead. Somehow having Tyrion beside her seemed to shrink her worries to a more manageable size, and she could breathe again. The weight of ruling had nearly crushed her, dragging her back behind her walls and away from her husband. Never again. They would handle things together and she would do her best to be more open with Tyrion.
Arya paid close attention to Tyrion and Sansa during the meeting with Wolkan. Whatever distance had hung between them the last few days seemed to have completely dissolved. Her sister had sent her a message earlier saying the meeting was being moved to a room upstairs, and she'd assumed that was because Tyrion was joining them. While he was improving each day, he had yet to tackle the stairs.
Sansa had asked Wolkan to review everything that had happened since the Wolfswood and Tyrion had sat silently listening throughout. When the old Maester had finished, Tyrion turned to Sansa sat to his left.
"I'm so sorry" he said, face falling "I should have been here for you"
"There's nothing you could have done. This is my fault"
"No wonder you've been stressed. I'm your husband I should have been helping you - not distracting you"
"You've not been well sweetheart" said Sansa, brushing a hand through his hair "none of this matters as much as you"
Tyrion reached out to take her hand "I promise - you won't have to deal with this alone"
"Thank you" said Sansa, blue eyes shining "it's your advice I value the most"
The Queen and the lord of Winterfell were totally absorbed in each other's gaze. It was almost a shame to break it.
"I suppose Maester Wolkan and I have been sat here twiddling our thumbs?" said Arya, arching an eyebrow at her sister
They broke their shared gaze, varying degrees of redness creeping into their faces. Sansa recovered first, clearing her throat.
"You're quite right; Maester Wolkan has offered invaluable help during this time"
"A pleasure your grace" said the old man, bowing his head
"I haven't?" said Arya
"You've offered something alright" said Sansa, smirking at her sister
Arya turned to Tyrion "I'm glad you're back big brother. I couldn't take much more of Sansa's moony eyed staring at your empty seat"
Much to her satisfaction Sansa turned crimson at her words, as Tyrion gazed up at his wife with bright eyes.
"You...really missed me?" he asked, fidgeting with his sleeve
"I did" said Sansa, smiling at him "I came to these meetings and all I wanted was to be with you"
Arya rolled her eyes "We'd have never guessed, would we Maester?"
"Ah...it was clear your mind was elsewhere, your Grace" he said diplomatically
Sansa's face was still glowing red, but Tyrion's face was beaming. It was worth invoking her sister's wrath to make sure Tyrion knew how wanted he was.
"To the matter at hand, I'm sure you've heard our scouts have found no sign of Robin or Gawan near the Dreadfort" said Wolkan
"Has there been any indication of other houses turning against me?" asked Sansa, her brow furrowing
"Not that I've seen your Grace" said Wolkan
"I haven't found anything in your correspondence either" said Arya, shooting a glare at Sansa "though there's still a few hundred letters to go through"
Sansa sighed "We need to pinpoint which houses are likely to turn against me, and the best way to do that is to find out which houses I've ignored"
"I know, but that's still no guarantee. Finding Robin and Gawan is the easiest way to end all this" said Arya
"There's been no word on their whereabouts either" said Wolkan "though Alec is continuing to co-ordinate the hunt"
"Sansa, are you sure you ignored house Mazin?"
Tyrion's question drew all their attention. The little Lannister had been sat in silence, reading through the letter house Mazin had received from Robin.
"I've not been a good Queen" she said "I've ignored a lot of people Tyrion, and forgotten the small folk"
"That doesn't seem like you though" he insisted "particularly towards a house that helped you reclaim Winterfell"
"I appreciate your support" she said, brushing her hand against his face "but I haven't acted like a Stark. House Mazin have refused the offer of rebellion out of loyalty to you – not to me"
"Yes, I had many letters from various lords requesting help and some of them did complain that you were ignoring their repeated letters. I found it odd at the time, but I knew you were very busy on trade deals with the six Kingdoms" he said, tapping his fingers on the table "Now I wonder..."
"Wonder what?" prompted Arya, leaning forwards in her seat
"Did anyone else ever help you with your correspondence Sansa?" asked Tyrion
Arya's face paled as Tyrion's implication set in. She turned her attention to Sansa, who appeared to have frozen in her chair.
The Queen's voice trembled as she answered "When I was working on the more important issues with lord Glover, lord Manderly and lady Tallhart, Robin offered to help me with my correspondence. He wouldn't answer the letters but he'd read them and summarise the issues to save me time"
"You keep a record of the correspondence you receive from each house, don't you your Grace?" asked Wolkan
"She keeps every letter" said Arya, tension winding through her "All the letters I've read I've yet to find any from house Mazin"
Tyrion touched Sansa's elbow as her gaze remained frozen to the desk in front of her "Sansa I think you've ignored house Mazin because you never received their letters in the first place"
"Because Robin was working against you from the beginning" growled Arya
"If that's true, who knows how much more correspondence you've been sent and not received. It's more than likely Robin will have destroyed the letters as soon as you received them" said Wolkan, rubbing his beard
Tyrion nodded "It would give the appearance of a neglectful Queen. An image Robin could use to..."
"...incite a rebellion" whispered Sansa
Arya's hands shook in her rage. She hated Robin and Gawan so much. They'd always intended to betray Sansa. If one of them had married her, it wasn't hard to imagine that Sansa would eventually be discarded.
"We won't let them get away with any of this Sansa" she vowed "They'll pay for everything they did to Tyrion and to you"
"How?" asked Sansa "The damage is done, my reputation is in tatters"
"Not necessarily" said Tyrion, smiling kindly at her "Many of the lords who got no response from you approached me instead. I have all of that correspondence somewhere so pinpointing which houses weren't successful in contacting you should be easy. With your permission, I could write to them and ask about how often they wrote to you and such. I've exchanged letters with some of them many times; I believe they'll respond to me"
"A good plan" agreed Wolkan "if we can convince these houses the Queen is not to blame but Robin and Gawan are, there is a good chance we can heal any rifts within the North before they fully develop"
Despite the raw anger eating at her, Arya felt nothing but pride in Tyrion. Broken and battered as he was, his quick mind had seized upon what they'd all been missing.
"Nice work lord of Winterfell" said Arya, shooting him a grin
He smiled shyly at her praise "I'm glad I could help"
"Thank you Tyrion" said Sansa, a single tear running down her face "I...thank you"
"I'll do whatever I can to help you" he promised, laying his good hand over hers "You're not alone"
"Absolutely" agreed Arya
Her sister merely nodded, a grateful smile crossing her face. This fresh betrayal had hurt her, but thanks to Tyrion they had a chance of ruining Robin and Gawan's game before it turned deadly. Whatever coldness had clung to Sansa the last few days seemed to have dissolved, but Arya wasn't going to risk her sister wallowing over this fresh betrayal.
"There's a positive to all this" said Arya, leaning back in her chair
"What's that?" asked Sansa, brow furrowing
"This revelation has saved me from reading any more of the boring shit people write to Sansa"
Tyrion's mouth quirked upwards "That's important royal business lady Arya"
"It's pointless – that's what it is. Why can't people figure out their own shit? I swear some of these lords can't find their own way to the privy"
"We mustn't judge Arya, I have an escort to the privy myself" said Tyrion
"Sansa's worried you'll fall in, that's why"
"Sansa? The Queen does not escort the imp to the privy, I meant Lyon!"
Arya snorted "That doesn't surprise me"
"You should hear him chatting to Lyon while he's in there" said Sansa, a faint smile crossing her face
Tyrion shrugged "If there's one thing my father taught me, it's the importance of a guard while shitting"