Rise & Fall

by rhaellion

Post Season 8 - Sansa Stark is set to be crowned Queen in the North, following Bran's election as King. As Queen she has big plans for the North and those plans change the fate of Tyrion Lannister - a broken man following the deaths of his family and Queen.

25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Tyrion hadn't realised how much he'd missed work until he was actually doing it again. Glancing down at the letter he was writing, he thought this was exactly the distraction he needed. While his body continued to heal, Tyrion found he was able to stay awake for longer each day. With not much else to occupy his time, it was easy for his mind to wander back to the Wolfswood - however much he didn't want to. Aside from keeping the dark thoughts at bay, it felt good to do something to help Sansa for a change.

His face grew hot recalling his utter dependence these past weeks. Everyone had been so kind to him. Not once had anyone blamed him for what happened, instead insisting it wasn't his fault. He wanted to repay their kindness - to contribute to the family that had taken him in when he had nothing left.

He only wished Sansa wasn't facing such problems. She was an excellent Queen. While it was true she had ignored the small folk who asked for her help and treated the Winterfell household rather frostily, she was very new to ruling. What she'd achieved in the North so far was a testament to her hard work - something Robin had been undermining from the start.

Sansa was young and unlike most rulers she hadn't spent her whole life preparing for such a huge responsibility; mistakes were to be expected. More importantly, she was doing everything alone. After his experience as hand to Daenerys he'd been very reluctant about advising anyone ever again. He'd thought himself clever and wise, but it was sheer arrogance.

'We heard enough words from you'

Grey Worm's angry words in the dragon pit reverberated through his mind. It was true, he thought. Everyone had listened to him and no-one was the better for it. When Sansa had initially asked for his help in the North he'd been terrified. How could anyone possibly trust him after all he'd done? Then she'd married him and made him the lord of her ancestral home. He didn't want to fail Sansa as he'd failed Daenerys. Whatever it took, Tyrion swore he would do better this time. Whatever Sansa wanted from him was hers.

"Are you alright Tyrion?"

Sansa's voice pulled him from his mind to find her gazing across at him, concern shining in her blue eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine" he said, smiling "Just thinking"

"Aren't you always?" she said, sitting back in her chair "Do you want to take a break?"

He shook his head "I should finish these letters"

She narrowed her eyes at him "Alright, it's lunch soon anyway. After that you're taking a break"

"If you insist"

"I do insist. You can choose what we do though. We can read, go for a walk or anything else you can think of – but no work"

"I appreciate that Sansa, but if you'd rather continue with your duties I'd more than understand"

Sansa raised an eyebrow "I was rather hoping your offer to teach me cyvasse was still open?"

"Of course" said Tyrion, corners of his mouth twitching up "You'll pick it up quickly – you have the strategic mind for it"

"It's a date then" said Sansa with a smile that sent a tingle through him "How are the letters going?"

"It will take some time to go through my correspondence and pinpoint the houses likely to be targeted by Robin, but for now I've written to a couple I'm fairly certain of including lord Marlin of house Dormund and lady Barbrey of house Dustin"

"It's a good thing Arya volunteered to check through all of your correspondence" said Sansa, a smirk creeping over her face

"I could have done it"

"Nonsense, you're still recovering and it would have consumed all of your time my love. Arya is more than up to the task"

"Sansa Stark, are you abusing your Queenly powers?"

"What's the point of being Queen if I can't order my little sister about?" said Sansa, mischief sparking in her eyes "There has to be some kind of benefit"

"True" said Tyrion "the look on her face when you gave the order was rather amusing, though you know she'll be out for revenge"

"It was worth the risk" said Sansa, shifting her papers into a pile "Are you nearly ready for lunch? I'm rather eager to see what cyvasse is all about"

"One moment" he promised "I just need to seal these letters"

Tyrion stood stiffly from the chair, his good hand gripping the table for support. While Sansa still supported him when he walked, she had reluctantly conceded that very short journeys around their room could be attempted alone as long as someone was watching. Many men would probably find Sansa's constant fussing and hovering annoying, but to Tyrion it was the exact opposite. The continued reminder of her care warmed his heart.

The journey to his chest of draws was only short, but his legs trembled beneath him all the same. At least the new medicine for his hand was easing some of that agony. He hadn't realised quite how bad it had gotten until the pain lessened. He could feel Sansa's eyes following his progress even as she pretended to read a letter. Easing open the heavy wooden draw where he stored his work supplies, Tyrion pushed around some of the papers in search of his seal.

After a few moments of hopeless searching, he turned to Sansa "Have you seen my seal anywhere?"

"Which seal?" she asked, eyes never leaving the paper in her hand

"The one with a W on it"

"Oh that one. Yes I saw it"

Tyrion blinked, why was she acting so strangely?

"Where did you see it?" he asked

"Last I saw, it was burning on the hearth"

"How did it get there?" he asked, eyebrows drawing together

Sansa looked up from the letter in her hand, to meet his gaze "I put it there"

"Can I ask why?"

The Queen rose from her chair, smiling sadly at him "Come sit down"

He lurched back towards the table, his stomach rolling as Sansa moved away. Why would she burn his seal? Climbing into the chair, his eyes followed Sansa as she moved to her own chest of draws and pulled out a package. She dragged her chair around to sit next to him, placing the brown package between them.

"I got rid of your seal" she said, blue eyes studying him "because I will not have you using a W as your mark"

"Ah, I'm sorry Sansa" he said, swallowing thickly "I didn't mean to offend you. I just assumed you wouldn't mind me using the W to make it clear the letter was from Winterfell. I can use something plainer if you like"

"Plainer? You think I'm going to let you send letters with just a blob of wax on them?"

Sansa's slender hands tugged open the brown package pulling out two seals and several pots of wax. One seal was marked with a Lannister lion; the other with the Stark direwolf. The waxes were red, gold, black and grey.

"I don't understand" said Tyrion, eyeing the contents of the package

Sansa took hold of his right hand pulling it towards her "When you were taken from me, I searched our chambers for something that reminded me of you. Do you know what I found?"

Tyrion shook his head, as Sansa's blue eyes turned misty.

"I found nothing. You had nothing aside from some clothes. There was no sign at all that this was your home or that you even lived here. In desperation I looked for your seal, assuming it would have your family sigil on - instead I found that plain W"

"I didn't really think the Lannister sigil was appropriate"

"Why not?" asked Sansa "You are a Lannister"

He squirmed under her scrutiny "Sansa, you of all people know how awful my family were. The Lannister name will die with me and it's for the best"

Sansa let out a sigh, gently squeezing his hand "There is no shame at all in being a Lannister. You've more than earned the respect of the North, and I happen to be very proud that my husband is a lion. You are not your family Tyrion"

"I haven't wore Lannister colours or used a lion sigil since I killed my father" he said, turning his eyes to the bed "That lovely blanket you made is the first thing with a lion on I've had for years"

Sansa followed his gaze, her eyes softening as she turned back to him "The lion sigil is your birth right Tyrion, but you're part of the Stark family too. The direwolf is also yours to use"

"You really don't want me to use a plain seal, do you?" he said, sinking into the chair

"Absolutely not" she said, voice hardening "The lion and the wolf are both yours to use, or if you like we can have another made that combines the two - but I will not have you using a W for your seal as if you belong to no-one"

"I understand" he said, eyeing the seals as if they were going to bite him

Sansa rose from her chair, lightly kissing his cheek "You have a family that loves you Tyrion - you're not a homeless beggar. Now, finish your letters and I'll send for lunch"

The Queen wandered away from him to arrange for lunch and Tyrion sat staring at the seals in front of him. Truthfully he didn't think he had a right to use either. Using the direwolf would be an insult to the Starks no matter what Sansa said. While he was fairly certain Sansa and Arya cared for him, he didn't doubt her dead parents would despise him as would Robb Stark.

'You're no son of mine'

'I am your son. I have always been your son'

Killing his father had surely forfeited his right to use the lion seal. His father had hated him - that was never in doubt. He'd once thought he could win some affection, or at least his approval but no matter what he did it was never enough. Tyrion had never been particularly proud of his family, but he had once been proud to be a Lannister. Some of his ancestors had been great heroes, and he'd cared for his aunt, uncles, some of his cousins - and Jamie of course.

Hesitantly he lifted the lion seal, placing it before him. Red was the colour generally used for a Lannister seal, but gold could be too – they were the colours of house Lannister.

Tyrion glanced towards the bed and his lion blanket. He would always be a Lannister - the last of his family now. Perhaps he could be better though. He grasped a pot of wax, setting it to heat ready to make his seal.

He'd just finished sealing his letters when Sansa appeared behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders.

"What do you think?" he asked, nervously eyeing the lion sigil in black wax

"A good choice"

"It was inspired by the blanket you made me. I didn't think you'd mind me using the black wax, even though it's more of a Northern colour…"

Warm lips pressed against the top of his head, silencing his worries.

"I think it's perfect" she said, leaning over him "A very Northern lion"

Tyrion brushed his fingers over the fresh seal "Red was never my colour"

"I do recall saying the Northern colours suited you" she said, laying her hand over his "the dark clothes go with your golden hair very nicely"

"I'll take your word for it my Queen"

"Good" she said "Now come my lord, we have lunch plans"

Tyrion smiled as Sansa moved to clear the work from the table. No doubt his father and sister were seething that he was still using their family sigil, but this time he would make it his own. He was the last of his family and while it did sadden him greatly, it was also freeing. The weight of his family's expectations had gone; he was free to reinvent himself. To Tyrion, a Northern lion sounded a good place to start.

---

"Sansa, please…"

"Stop begging. You chose to stay - this is the price"

Tyrion was powerless to resist as Sansa pinned him beneath her. Why was she doing this? Everything had been going so well. Tyrion had been sound asleep when the rustling of the sheets disturbed him. He'd woken to find Sansa climbing on top of him, pushing him onto his back against the mattress.

"You promised" he said, pleading with her to let him go

A cruel smile curved over her face "Did you really think I meant that? Look at the state of you - broken and shamed. You should be thanking me for even touching you"

Tyrion's heart shattered as she reached under his shift and grasped hold of him. Her hand tightened, crushing his cock painfully as he writhed under her.

"Please stop…"

She pulled roughly at him, her nails digging into the sensitive skin "No. You want to pretend this is your home; that we're your family – you have to earn your keep Tyrion"

"Sansa...you're hurting me" he said, a sob building in his throat "please"

"Stop crying – it's pathetic" she said, face twisting in disgust "This is the one thing you're any use for and you can't even do that"

Tyrion struggled weakly in Sansa's grip, but he couldn't free himself from her. Once gentle hands became harsh and unforgiving as they manipulated him until he was ready. Sansa wasted no time sinking on top of him, riding him roughly as she buried her face next to his ear.

"You're mine to use however I want" she whispered "never forget that"

Tyrion's eyes flew open, jerking on the bed. Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating Sansa lying across the bed from him.

A dream. A horrible dream.

He lay still on the bed, his heart pounding through his bed clothes. At least he hadn't woken Sansa. Talking about his nightmares was never easy, but there was no way he could tell her about this one. Tyrion swallowed thickly, forcing the images from his mind.

Sansa had apologised and he'd forgiven her. She'd shown him nothing but love and care since his return from the Wolfswood; there was no reason for him to be afraid of her.

'Yes, there is' taunted his mind 'No-one could ever love you'

There was no denying the tiny slither of doubt that gnawed at his mind. He'd forgiven Sansa and he meant that wholeheartedly. When Sansa swore she'd never force him in the bed again he believed her - the apology had been sincere.

It had been two days since he'd confronted Sansa over her icy behaviour, and since then the voice of doubt had grown stronger. Her sudden return to the Queen of ice had shaken him badly. The coldness and indifference she'd shown him had been so unexpected; who was to say her promise to not bed him again wouldn't change just as quickly?

Tyrion screwed his eyes shut, willing the dark thoughts to leave him alone. He trusted Sansa – he loved Sansa. She was so easily affectionate towards him, expressing her love without hesitation. More than once he'd wanted to return the sentiment directly, but the words would never come. It was irrational; it was stupid – but he feared the moment he gave into his feelings would be the moment Sansa turned on him. Who wants the love of a disfigured dwarf?

Then there was the constant worry that if he physically expressed any affection she might take it as a sign to bed him. Sansa was a beautiful woman...but he just couldn't. Not now; maybe not ever.

Tyrion curled into himself, scooting closer to the edge of the bed – and hating himself for every inch he put between him and Sansa. The dream had shaken him, reminding him horribly of his wedding night. It was ridiculous. Sansa had been nothing but kind to him. He'd forgiven her - though a lingering doubt remained. There was a wariness in the bed with her, he feared he may never lose. The bed creaked softly startling him, until a furry body pressed against him. Tyrion gratefully wrapped his good arm around Lyon, as the direwolf lay on the bed with him.

He couldn't give into those dark thoughts. Sansa loved him; she promised. No matter what he had to move forwards. He should move closer to his wife and seek her comfort - it would be progress.

But…maybe not tonight.

He'd try again tomorrow, but tonight the image of his dream kept him tethered to the edge of the bed.

---

Sansa's mind was split. Part of her focus was on her cyvasse match with Arya, the other half was worrying over her husband. It wasn't unusual to find Tyrion curled up on his side of the bed, but this morning she'd woken to find him sleeping on the very edge with Lyon in his arms. Worried he may fall she'd reached out to tug him away from the edge and he'd flinched so badly at her touch Lyon had woken with a howl.

Fear had flashed across his face for the briefest of moments, quickly replaced by a nervous smile. Sansa had apologised for startling him and asked him multiple times if he wanted to talk about anything, but her husband had remained somewhat distant all day. They'd done some work this morning and she'd taken him for a walk around the upstairs corridors, but his mind had obviously been elsewhere despite his efforts to act normally.

Whatever was bothering him Sansa had declared they would take the afternoon off, telling Tyrion she needed a break. She'd invited Arya to join them for some cyvasse in the hopes of breaking the melancholy that hung over her husband.

"Don't feel bad when Sansa loses Tyrion, it's no reflection on your teaching" said Arya, lounging back in her chair as Sansa made her next move

"I haven't lost yet"

"Are you sure?"

"Sansa's still very much in the game" said Tyrion, sat on the chaise watching them.

They'd pulled the two arm chairs closer around the hearth with her and Arya occupying one at opposite ends of the game board with Tyrion sat on the chaise between them.

"I'll win this for you, my love" said Sansa, shooting her husband a smile. Tyrion's mouth twitched upwards, but it didn't reach his eyes as he stared distantly at the game board.

"What makes you so sure Tyrion wants you to win? Maybe he's supporting me" said Arya

"I'm his wife" protested Sansa

"I'm his little sister" said Arya, turning to pout at him "You want me to win, don't you big brother?"

It amazed Sansa how her sister could share her focus between such a complex game and making jokes. Even now her sister's grey eyes sparked with mischief as she gazed at Tyrion. Indecision tore across Tyrion's face as they both awaited his answer.

"I'm neutral in this conflict" he said

"The middle ground doesn't exist Tyrion, pick a side"

"I'll have to choose Sansa. I taught her to play after all"

Sansa patted his leg "Good choice"

"Is that what you really want though?" asked Arya, effortlessly making her move and throwing Sansa's strategy into disarray

"My loyalty is to my Queen" said Tyrion, shrugging "and watching you lose would be amusing"

"We need a second opinion" declared Arya "Ask Lyon!"

"You want to ask a direwolf?" said Sansa, staring at her sister

"Tyrion and Lyon share a bond" she insisted "I say we test if he follows his master's lead"

"It is an interesting theory" said Tyrion, eyes turning thoughtful "Lyon!"

At the sound of his name the little wolf rolled to his feet, leaving the spot he'd been lazing in near the window. Sansa wasn't sure a wolf could look haughty, but the look Lyon shot her on his way past could be nothing else. The direwolf trotted to the far side of the table between Sansa and Arya, staring up at Tyrion.

"An important question" started Tyrion, addressing his wolf "Sansa and Arya are battling each other in an intense game of cyvasse, who do you want to win?"

The way Tyrion spoke to Lyon never failed to amuse Sansa, but the way the wolf understood him was somewhat unnerving. Green eyes darted back and forth between her and her sister before Lyon moved to sit next to Arya.

"Ah ha!" declared Arya, rubbing the wolf's head "Thanks Lyon. I think Tyrion wants me to win too"

"Lyon - we're supposed to be supporting Sansa!" said Tyrion, but the wolf merely tilted his head to one side

"Aww, I thought we were friends" said Sansa, reaching out to pet the golden wolf

The direwolf was having none of it, and quickly turned on his paws - sauntering off in search of his water bowl. Arya snorted in laughter as Sansa sighed.

"He doesn't like me" she said

"I wouldn't take it personally Sansa" said Tyrion "He's just playing hard to get"

"I'll win him over" she declared

"How are you going to do that? He loves Tyrion and napping" said Arya

"Not necessarily in that order" added Tyrion

Sansa smiled, turning to her husband "We can bond over that then. We both love Tyrion"

Tyrion's face flushed at her words, his face twisting into a sad smile "Yes, well…I still believe you can defeat Arya"

The focus turned back to the game and as they played Sansa noticed some of Tyrion's distance melting away. While she didn't know what had been bothering him, she did know there was still much he needed to deal with. It had been little over a month since his ordeal in the Wolfswood and she still knew very little of what he'd suffered. Her husband was doing his best to put on a brave face and brush off all that had happened, but every now and then he would withdraw. A haunted look would take over his soft green eyes and Sansa would do whatever she could to soothe him. Things between them were improving constantly; trust growing slowly but surely. It would take time but Sansa would do anything to take care of her husband.

---

"Would you rather be my hand, or the hand of Stannis Baratheon?"

His question startled the old knight, drawing Davos from his reading to stare at the King.

"I was honoured to serve Stannis. I always thought he was a just man - right up until he let the red woman sacrifice Shireen to the so called lord of light"

"On that basis, you'd rather serve me?"

"Aye. You're an excellent King, your Grace" said Davos, inclining his head

Bran stared at him with thousand year old eyes, a faint smile flitting over his face "You needn't flatter me Ser Davos - I do very little"

"As rulers go that may well be a good thing. Stannis often asked for advice and then ignored it. What I saw the dragon Queen was much the same; neither listened to their advisors when they maybe should have. Not saying I'm always right, but a second opinion counts for something. Jon was always open to advice"

"It's always good to gain perspective; see things from someone else's view. Things you might have missed" said Bran, rolling his head to one side "Are you happy to be going North again?"

"Never thought I would be up here again, your Grace" said Davos, tugging his cloak around him "Can't say I'm happy about the cold, but the trade deal with the North should help to get things moving again in Kings Landing"

"This visit to the North is more important for them than to us"

"Aye, the deal will help them as much as us - I made sure of that"

Bran smiled, nodding his thanks to his hand as the litter bounced along the road. This was a crucial time for the North - that much he could see. The power of the three-eyed raven was stronger in the North, though the old Gods power had recently limited his own with regards to Sansa's kingdom. Whatever was going to happen it was in the old Gods hands and Bran could only do so much. The North would rise or fall under Sansa. Every decision she'd already made and would make had the potential to influence that. The future was fragile; any seemingly insignificant thing had the power to alter the fate of the North drastically. All Bran could do was see through the raven's eyes.

---

Sansa sighed contentedly as Tyrion lay fast asleep with his head on her shoulder. Since Wolkan had cleared him to leave the bed and walk with help, his strength had continued to grow each day. Every morning they walked a little further around the upstairs corridors, and throughout the day they would work together in their chambers, sometimes with Arya joining them. Sansa made certain he didn't overdo it and they would take regular breaks from work to do something else. She found these breaks helped her as much as Tyrion. Rather than getting too bogged down in her problems the respites from work eased her worries and cleared her head to tackle them from a fresh perspective.

Tyrion was the biggest help though. Whenever she ran into a problem that troubled her, he would always suggest a solution or different way of looking at it. As much as she loved working with her husband, Sansa found herself craving the time they spent together that wasn't work. Little by little Tyrion was opening up around her. She could see it in his more frequent smiles and light-hearted teasing. Gone was the biting wit and over confidence he'd once used so devastatingly, instead replaced by a certain shyness and hesitation. Sansa had wondered more than once if this was who he'd always been and the Tyrion she knew in Kings Landing was a mask to protect himself. She could understand that - she'd worn a mask for a long time too. Either way, Sansa found herself loving him more deeply than ever. He was her best friend; and this second chance with him meant the world to her.

Sansa carefully set her needlework down, turning to admire her sleeping husband. Messy golden hair covered his forehead, while his mouth hung open slightly. The scar on his face was healing but they'd discovered growing a beard irritated the fragile skin and her husband was forced to go bare faced for the immediate future. All things considered he was getting better, but he still needed to rest.

She'd asked him earlier if he wanted to sleep as she'd noticed him trying to hide a yawn, but he'd insisted he wasn't tired and had sat next to her on the chaise, reading while she did some needlework. She'd been so engrossed in her needlework she hadn't realised Tyrion was asleep until his body slumped towards her, his head landing awkwardly against her shoulder. Settling him more comfortably against her Sansa had watched the hearth crackling for a while as she worked, enjoying the closeness between them.

Lyon was also dozing much like his master, though he was thankfully drooling on his cushion in the corner rather than on her. That was another good sign that Tyrion was improving. The wolf had the uncanny ability to sense when Tyrion was distressed even if Sansa herself couldn't see it. The past few weeks she'd noticed the little creature would join Tyrion whenever he sensed a change in his master's mood, though much to her relief his visits to the bed had grown fewer. As much as she loved Lyon, he would likely grow bigger at some point and the idea of an adult direwolf lying between her and Tyrion every night was not her favourite image. Particularly a wolf that was rather possessive of his master, and seemed to hold a grudge against her.

Wrapping her arm around Tyrion she gently shook him "Wake up"

As much as she wanted to stay on the chaise with Tyrion, tomorrow was a big day and he needed proper sleep. Fortunately they'd both already dressed for bed and only needed to get over there. Her husband stirred slightly, though his eyes remained closed.

"Tyrion, wake up" she said gently

Weary green eyes blinked up at her lazily.

"Ready for bed now?" she asked

His brow furrowed in sleepy confusion, before his eyes widened realising where he was.

"Sansa, I'm sorry" he said, jerking backwards from her "I never meant to fall asleep…like that"

She laughed lightly at his panicked expression, tugging him against her "You're ok, it was very sweet"

His face grew red "You should have pushed me off"

"Why would I do that? I rather like having my husband near me"

Some of his embarrassment faded and Sansa couldn't help but wonder if he would ever get past his fear of rejection, for she was certain that's what it was. No matter what, he seemed to have this lingering fear she would suddenly object to his presence or find him disgusting - which couldn't be further from the truth.

"Shall we go to bed?" she asked "As comfortable as I was with you sleeping on me, it would have left you quite stiff in the morning"

"Yes" he said, a sheepish smile covering his face "I suppose the bed will be best"

Tyrion moved to stand from the chaise and her sharp eyes followed his movements as he limped towards the bed. Tomorrow was his name day and she had many plans to celebrate it - not that Tyrion knew. All week she'd wondered if he was going to mention his name day, and as expected he'd said nothing.

Her stomach fluttered at the thought of tomorrow. She didn't know why Tyrion hadn't mentioned his name day. It was possible he didn't realise the date - though she thought that unlikely. It was more likely he assumed no-one would be interested, but Sansa and Arya were going to prove him wrong on that count.

"Everything alright Sansa?"

Her husband was stood at the side of the bed now, glancing back at her with concern that she hadn't followed him.

"Yes" she said, standing from the chaise and moving towards him

Sansa wrapped her arm around Tyrion for support as he climbed into bed. With his arm still immobilised the high bed was something of a challenge and he'd adamantly refused a step stool – though the reason eluded her.

"I'm sorry for sleeping on you…and the drool" he said when he was settled

"Nothing to apologise for my love" she said, kissing his head, before moving to her own side of the bed "You can drool on me anytime"

"You'll regret that" he said, smiling as he lay down

"Never"

---

Standing in her sister's chambers, Arya gazed at the figure on the bed.

"It's almost a shame to wake him" said Sansa, a soft smile covering her face

She watched her sister out of the corner of her eye. The Queen was looking upon her husband adoringly, and Arya barely contained an eye roll. Unlike in her younger years, Sansa's love and trust was hard won but the man on the bed had both - however much he struggled to believe it.

"We could leave him a little longer" suggested Sansa

Arya tapped her foot impatiently "No way, he can't sleep through his name day - there's too much to fit in and I want to give him his gifts"

"But he looks so sweet"

She followed her sister's moony eyed gaze to Tyrion. The little Lannister was lying on his back with his golden hair sticking up everywhere, his lion blanket hanging over him. His face was more relaxed than Arya had ever seen him, and for a moment she considered letting him sleep on.

Then she got a hold of herself, nudging her sister "Are you going to wake him, or should I?"

Sansa sighed "Alright. We'll wake him up, he needs to eat anyway"

"We could do it together" said Arya, a smirk spreading over her face "that would certainly surprise him"

Sansa's mouth twitched upwards "Fine"

Together they approached the bed until they were both leaning over Tyrion. He hadn't stirred at their approach, and the sisters nodded at each other

"Wake up!" they shouted in sync

The effect was immediate, with Tyrion's eyes darting open as he jolted on the bed.

"What-?"

"Happy name day Tyrion" said Sansa, sweeping down to kiss the top of his head

His face was etched in sleepy confusion as he stared up at them "It's what?"

"Happy name day big brother" said Arya, flicking him on the head "You didn't forget, did you?"

"It's my name day?" he said, brow furrowing

Arya turned to Sansa "Is he always this slow in the mornings?"

"It takes him a few minutes to wake up properly"

"I'm not that patient" said Arya

Sansa smiled at her husband "Ready to get dressed? Nessa's already taken Lyon out to hunt and breakfast will be here soon"

"Breakfast?" he asked, still staring at them in wonderment

Arya nodded her head slowly "Yes, breakfast. That meal we eat in the mornings. Hurry up Tyrion; I want to give you my gifts!"

"Gifts?"

"Seven hells" said Arya, turning to her sister "You deal with him"

The Queen looked bemused as Tyrion pushed himself upwards in bed "Let's get ready sweetheart, I want to give you my gifts too"

The lord of Winterfell seemed completely stunned, sitting up in the bed and staring at them as if seeing them for the first time. What was confusing him, Arya didn't know - but patience wasn't her strong suit. Dropping on to the edge of the bed, she grasped his shoulders locking eyes with him.

"Your name is Tyrion Lannister" she explained slowly "You're the lord of Winterfell and the Queen's husband. Today is your name day and we're celebrating"

"You're celebrating…my name day?" he asked, tilting his head to one side

"Of course we are" said Sansa, joining them on the bed "Why wouldn't we?"

"I..um" he started, face growing red "Really?"

Arya's heart ached at the doubt in his eyes. What kind of childhood had Tyrion suffered, that he'd be surprised his family wanted to celebrate his name day? Sansa had picked up on it too, taking hold of his hand.

"Yes, really" said Sansa, gazing at him tenderly "We love you"

A slow smile spread across Tyrion's face as his green eyes shone. Arya's stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sight. In their family love had always been given and received so easily, there was something deeply unsettling about how little of family love Tyrion understood. His wide eyed wonderment at any display of kindness or care filled her with a deep sadness that she knew Sansa felt as well. Arya suspected the discomfort came from imagining the kind of life that would cause such behaviour.

Sansa and Tyrion were once again lost in each other's eyes and Arya decided it was time to get things moving again.

"If you ever get your arse out of bed, we'll celebrate" said Arya, jabbing him in the ribs as she moved from the bed

"Arya!" he complained, turning to pout at her

"I'm going to see where breakfast is" said Arya, grinning at him "Whatever state of dress you're in when I return is how you'll be eating it"

Tyrion turned to Sansa "Is that a serious threat?"

"I wouldn't take any chances" said the Queen, brushing her hand through his messy hair

"Suppose I should get up then"

"Unless you want to eat in your bed clothes my love"

"I'd hurry Lannister!" called Arya, pausing at the doorway "The countdown begins"

---

Despite the heavy breakfast he'd just eaten, Tyrion could hardly stop himself from bouncing in his seat as Arya placed two large packages on the table before him.

"These are for you" she said, sliding into her seat next to him

He still couldn't believe it. Today was his name day - and they were celebrating. He'd celebrated his name day before of course, but it was never like this. His family had always treated the occasion as nothing more than an inconvenience, to be endured only because it was expected of them - totally devoid of any actual love or care. Tyrion had grown to dislike the day. Compared to his sibling's name day, his was always a disappointment fueled by his family's hatred. As he grew older he'd spent the day in brothels and the past few years he'd ignored the day completely. Only Jamie had ever really celebrated with him - or cared for him.

Until now. Sansa and Arya both seemed as excited as he was, sat at the table in their chambers. The fact that they cared enough to even acknowledge the day meant a lot to him, but they were determined to celebrate it as well. Breakfast had been huge, piled high with all his favourites. Tyrion had been more than content with that, but both Sansa and Arya had laughed when he asked what work needed completing first. There was no work today, they'd told him - only celebrating.

"Do you think he knows the gift is actually inside the brown paper?" asked Arya, glancing questioningly at Sansa

The Queen smiled at him "Are you going to open it?"

"Of course" he said, a hint of red creeping up his neck "I was merely admiring Arya's wrapping skills"

"Not as pretty as Sansa's will be, I'm sure" said Arya

"You lack the patience for pretty things, not the skill" said Sansa

Arya rolled her eyes "Come on Tyrion, open it! It's not going to bite you"

Tyrion needed no more prompting as he tore into the gift. Fortunately it wasn't wrapped tightly and he managed to open it with his good hand. The brown paper fell away to reveal an intricately carved wooden box decorated with lions. Tyrion brushed his hand over the smooth wood, tracing the patterns. He pushed open the lid to reveal a black lined interior with a direwolf engraved on the inside of the lid.

"It's beautiful" he said, turning to Arya "Thank you"

Arya grinned at him "I'm glad you like it. Open the other one!"

Sansa helped him move the box to one side to get at the second package. It took some tugging to get the paper free, but Tyrion drew in a breath when the gift was revealed. A thick book sat before him called 'Lann the Clever and the Rise of the Lions'.

"There were only five copies of this book ever made, none have been seen for decades" he breathed "Where did you possibly get this?"

"I have my ways" said Arya, a hint of pride creeping into her voice "Do you like it?"

"Of course I do! Thank you so much Arya"

"You're more than welcome big brother"

A wide grin spread over his face as Arya pulled him into a hug which he eagerly returned. His eyes grew warm as she hugged him. All of this was more than he'd ever dared to hope for.

"I'll leave you two alone for a while" said Arya pulling back "I know Sansa's impatient to give you her gifts"

The Queen's mouth twitched upwards "I've very patient - but do hurry up"

Sansa rose from the table as Arya headed to the door. Tyrion's heart swelled as he traced his fingers over the gifts he'd received. It was obvious a lot of thought had gone into them and he couldn't be more appreciative. He was drawn from his musings as Sansa placed two packages in front of him, lightly kissing his head as she perched on the seat Arya had just vacated.

"Happy name day" she said, blue eyes sparkling "I hope you like them"

The first package he tore open to reveal a heavy black cloak embroidered with golden lions. Upon closer inspection Tyrion found the pattern contained direwolves too - small grey wolves interspersed among the lions.

"You belong to both families" said Sansa, watching him fondly "I didn't think you'd mind the wolves joining the lions"

"I love it" he said, throat tightening "Thank you Sansa. You made this yourself, didn't you? It must have taken a lot of work"

She smiled "How could you tell I made it?"

"Your needlework is always incredible" he said "I'd recognise it anywhere"

Sansa's face flushed at the praise, lightly pushing the second gift towards him "You're more than worth the effort. Open this one"

Once again Tyrion found himself overwhelmed by joy. The gifts were amazing, but the idea Sansa and Arya cared enough to go to such trouble was what truly touched him. Sansa was watching expectantly and Tyrion opened the smaller package to reveal a wooden toy horse.

His mouth twitched upwards at the gift, turning to Sansa with gratitude all the same "Thank you"

Sansa swatted at him playfully "I didn't think you'd be able to make it to the stables yet, but when you do there's a new grey horse waiting for you"

"What?" he said, eyes widening

The Queen laughed "You actually thought I'd got you a toy horse?"

"I wouldn't have minded" he said, fiddling with the toy "You really got me a horse?"

"Yes" she said "I remember you saying in Kings Landing that you ride best with a horse that knows you well and using some kind of adapted saddle. You'll have to give the instructions for your saddle to be made, but the horse is young and can be trained to your liking"

"Thank you Sansa" he said, warmth prickling at the corners of his eyes

"I thought when you were better, maybe we could go riding? There are some beautiful places not too far from Winterfell – I'd love to show you"

"I look forward to it"

Sansa smiled at him, rising from her seat "I do have one more gift for you"

"You've already given me so much Sansa" he said "You needn't have gone to such trouble"

"It's no trouble and I enjoy treating you"

The Queen made her way to her draws and Tyrion turned his attention to the wooden horse in his hands. Jamie had once gifted him a horse for his name day. Soft footsteps drew his attention as Sansa returned to her place beside him - a slender package in her hands.

"I want you to know we were all in complete agreement over this gift" she said laying it on the table before him

Tyrion turned to her questioningly, but Sansa said nothing – nodding towards the package. Like the other gifts this was loosely wrapped to accommodate his injuries and the brown paper quickly fell away. His hand stilled at the first glimpse of what lay within the package. A blade with a smoky black tinge gleamed wickedly up at him.

"What is this?" he asked, confusion spreading through him

The Queen maintained her silence, though her blue eyes were shining at him as he looked between her and the half opened gift. A lump formed in his throat as he tugged away the rest of the packaging.

Before him sat a valyrian steel short sword. The blade was unmistakeable with its smoky black colour, but Tyrion's eyes were drawn to the grip. Black leather threaded with gold covered the grip, leading down to an intricate pommel. On one side the pommel appeared to be a lion head, but as he gingerly lifted the blade he found the back of the lion's head merged into a direwolf head on the other side.

"This is..." he started

"Yours" said Sansa "A sword fit for the lord of Winterfell"

"How did you…I never told you about practicing with the guards, did I?" he said quietly, laying the weapon back on the table

"Arya told me when you were gone"

"I'm sorry Sansa. I never meant to keep it a secret but I was rather embarrassed and I didn't think it was important"

Sansa's face softened as she took his hand "There's nothing to apologise for. I paid you hardly any attention when you came to Winterfell. I had no idea what you did most of the day, who you spoke to or if you even ate - but that was my fault, not yours"

"You don't mind that I trained with the guards? I never wanted to embarrass you, but Arya insisted I spend some time doing something that wasn't work and the men sort of pulled me into"

"You've never embarrassed me" said Sansa, squeezing his hand "I had no idea you were interested in sword fighting. Do you enjoy it?"

"I did enjoy it" he said, lowering his eyes

"Then I'll hear no excuses for why you can't carry on doing something you care about. Now you have your own sword to use"

He moved his attention back to the weapon, its smoky black blade gleaming sharply at him. It was so tempting to accept it; the sword was beautiful.

'I'd pledge you my sword but I don't actually own a sword'

The words he'd spoken to Daenerys so long ago echoed through his mind. It was true - he'd never actually owned a sword. He'd had daggers and the axe from the battle of blackwater, but a sword was a weapon for a knight; not an imp.

Tyrion shook his head "I can't accept this Sansa, its valyrian steel..."

"You can and you will" said Sansa, adding softly "This was forged from your brother's sword"

His heart twisted at the mention of his brother; part of him had wondered where Sansa had found valyrian steel. He definitely couldn't accept it - especially knowing where Jamie's sword had originally come from.

"Sansa, you know Jamie's sword was made from half of your father's sword? What my father did to that weapon was a terrible crime – it belongs to your family"

"You're my family" she said firmly "I know where the steel comes from. Jamie's sword was badly damaged and the end was missing, but there was enough good steel left to forge a new weapon. Bran gave it to me to decide what to do with – Arya and I are in complete agreement. Ser Brienne holds the other half of ice, and you will have this"

"Sansa I..."

"No excuses. This sword is yours now"

Tyrion's eyes wandered over the magnificent weapon sat before him. Sansa really wanted him to have it? This was what remained of the Stark family heirloom. Weapons like this were usually passed from father to son. If the Lannister ancestral sword had still been in their family, Tyrion was certain it would have never been passed to him even if he was the only son.

Sansa brought his hand to rest over the grip of the sword before letting go "Jamie would want you to have it, and I think my father would too. You've more than proven yourself a worthy lord of Winterfell"

Hesitantly, Tyrion nodded "If you're sure…"

"Absolutely" she said "It's yours, my love"

Tyrion looked up at the Queen. She was smiling tenderly at him, her eyes encouraging him to accept it. There was no doubt at all in her expression, and despite his own doubts Tyrion found his shaky hand closing around the leather grip.

"Thank you Sansa" he said, lifting the blade from the table "I won't let you down - I swear it"

"You've never let me down" she said, leaning around him to kiss the side of his face "Do you like the pommel?"

"It's beautiful" he said warmth surging through him as he turned the weapon in his hand

"This sword has been used by wolves and lions – it seemed right to include both"

True to valyrian steel the weapon was lightweight and deadly, its sharp edge gleaming up at him.

"Maybe I could watch you practice some time" she said "I imagine you look quite dashing with a sword"

Tyrion snorted "You have a generous imagination"

"Based on fact. You were rather handsome in your armour before the battle of blackwater"

"Ah yes. You prayed for my safe return as you did the Kings"

Sansa laughed "That might have been a bit harsh. I certainly wanted you back more than Joffrey – you were the only one who wasn't horrible to me"

"Such high praise"

"I rather enjoyed you telling him off. When things got really bad in Kings Landing I'd think back to those moments"

"You should have seen me slap him – it was quite therapeutic"

Sansa's eyes widened "You slapped the King?"

"Oh yes, this hand made contact with the royal face several times" he said, nodding towards his hand

Sansa laughed and lightness filled Tyrion as the sound reached his ears. He liked making Sansa laugh – she'd always looked so sad in Kings Landing. Their marriage then had been a sham, but part of him had still wanted to make her happy somehow. He wanted to be a good husband.

Tyrion's eyes moved down to the sword he held. It was far more than he deserved – that was for certain. Yet Sansa was insistent that it was his, and despite his own doubts Tyrion wanted to be worthy of it. He'd work as hard as he could to at least be half decent at using it. No matter what he wouldn't shame the Starks again. Determination flooded him as he tightened his grip on the weapon. Sansa trusted him – he wouldn't let her down.

---

"When do you think Lyon will be back?" asked Tyrion

Arya rolled her eyes at her brother "He probably got distracted by a rabbit or something"

Following lunch, Arya had re-joined Sansa and Tyrion in their chambers where she was now attempting to teach them a coin game learnt across the narrow sea. While Tyrion had heard of it, he'd never bothered to learn it as it was a test of skill rather than mind.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon" said Sansa, smiling reassuringly at her husband

When Arya had come to their room, the lord of Winterfell could hardly stop grinning as he showed her the newly forged sword. No doubt Tyrion was just as eager to show his little friend. The blade was beautiful and Sansa's design for the pommel and grip was incredibly detailed. Deciding what to do with the broken sword hadn't been difficult. It could have made a couple of daggers or another bladed weapon but there wasn't enough steel for another long sword like Oathkeeper. Sansa had no interest in having any part of the weapon and neither did Bran. Her sister had offered the sword to her, but Arya could tell she had her own ideas for it.

Arya hadn't wanted the blade. She had needle and her own valyrian steel dagger, so she'd told Sansa to do with it as she wanted. It was only right – with Bran not wanting it, Sansa was technically the next in line for the ancestral sword. As soon as Arya had rejected the offer of the weapon, her sister had tentatively asked what she thought of giving it to Tyrion. While he'd apparently never mentioned his sword practice to Sansa, Arya had told her sister about it when trying to make a point and the Queen was keen to surprise Tyrion with a sword.

"If you don't want Tyrion to have the rest of father's blade I'd understand" Sansa had said "I can get a sword made for him"

Arya had shook her head "Ice belongs to the lord of Winterfell, and Tyrion is family"

Sansa had lit up at her acceptance of the idea "Thank you. Will you help? I don't know much about swords and he's never mentioned it to me. I've had some ideas for the design, but you'll know more about blades"

It was the right choice. Tyrion had more than earned the sword and Arya hoped it would encourage him to keep up with his sword practice despite his injuries.

A clinking noise drew her attention to where Tyrion had flicked his coin off the wall, landing close to the marker coin.

"Good shot" said Sansa, tossing her own coin which bounced off several inches away

"You're getting better" offered Tyrion as the Queen sighed

"At least it didn't fly out the window this time"

"You should have got extra points for hitting that bird"

They'd turned the chaise to face a clear wall near the bed where Arya had set up a single coin as a marker. Each of them had three coins to try and bounce off the wall and land as close to the marker coin as possible. So far both Tyrion and Sansa were proving quite terrible at the game, though Tyrion was improving somewhat quicker than his wife.

"Sit back and let me show you how it's done" said Arya, leaning forward on the chaise

With practiced ease she flicked her coin off the wall, landing directly on top of the marker coin.

"Show off" complained Sansa, sinking into the chaise

Arya leaned across Tyrion, grin spreading over her face "Don't be jealous big sister"

"I'm not jealous" she insisted "I will defeat you"

"I can imagine you and Tyrion practicing this when I'm not around" said Arya

Tyrion's mouth turned upwards "The servants will wonder what that strange clinking is, coming from the Queen's chambers"

A knock on the door drew their attention and Arya bounced from her seat to answer it. Pulling open the heavy door she saw Nessa and Lyon stood waiting. The little wolf had something in his mouth as he shot past Arya and into the room.

"Hello Nessa" said Arya "Lyon was hunting for a while"

"He wandered off for ages but when he came back he had something in his mouth" said the little girl holding something of her own "Is Tyrion here?"

Arya pulled the door open further "He's over on the chaise"

The girl bobbed her head, eyes darting around the room until she spied Tyrion sat with Sansa on the chaise. Nessa sucked in a huge breath, as if steeling her nerves before heading towards Tyrion. Arya fought back a laugh. She tried to hide it but Nessa was obviously nervous of the Queen, though she would willingly brave her for Tyrion.

"Ah, my long lost wolf and squire" said Tyrion, smiling at the girl as she approached

Arya followed her over, leaning against the back of the chaise as Nessa nervously shoved her package towards Tyrion.

"Happy name day!" she said, wringing her hands in front of her

Sansa was trying to smile at the girl but it only appeared to be making her more nervous.

"Thank you" said Tyrion his face softening as he opened the package "How did you know it was my name day?"

"Lady Arya told me"

The package opened to reveal what appeared to be a lion doll. It was clearly hand made with oddly shaped limbs and an overly large head, but it was coloured like a lion with a fluffy orange mane and two black eyes.

"Me and Ethan made it for you" said Nessa, shifting awkwardly as he stared at the gift "Mother helped with the stitching"

Arya leaned over the back of the chaise to see Tyrion's reaction. The lord of Winterfell seemed to be frozen, looking at the doll as if he'd never seen anything like it. Slowly a wide grin split his face, as he reached forwards to grasp Nessa's arm.

"It's lovely" he said, voice breaking "Thank you so much"

Nessa let out a breath, her face lighting up "You really like it?"

"I do. Please given Ethan and your Mother my sincere thanks" he said, tugging Nessa towards him

The little girl eagerly threw her arms around Tyrion as he hugged her with his good hand.

As she pulled back, Tyrion lifted the toy towards Sansa "Isn't he fierce?"

"Very" she agreed, nodding at Nessa "What a lovely gift"

"You worked really hard on that" said Arya, admiring the gift that had been made with love

"It was fun" said Nessa "Ethan helped with the hair. He likes lions"

"Thank you" said Tyrion, carefully tracing his fingers over the toy

Nessa didn't realise it, but Arya knew how much that meant to Tyrion. Since coming North he'd buried much of his identity as if it was a shameful secret. She understood why – Lannister's had never been liked in the North. Tyrion had changed that though. There was no shame in being a lion and little by little she hoped Tyrion was learning that.

Not to be out done Lyon sauntered across to Tyrion, jumping up to lie his front paws on his lap as he dropped whatever was in his mouth.

"What've you got Lyon?" he asked

"I don't know what he found" said Nessa, shrugging "but he was gone for ages"

Tyrion placed his lion toy to one side, picking up the drool covered stone that lay in his lap. Lyon barked happily, his tail wagging. Both Arya and Sansa leaned closer to Tyrion as he lifted the object up to inspect it.

In his hand sat a rounded stone glinting black throughout it. The effect was so bizarre it took Arya a few moments to recognise where she'd seen that kind of black before.

"Is that dragon glass?" asked Sansa, brow furrowing at the stone

"It appears to have somehow melted into the stone" said Tyrion

Arya's mind was ahead of them "Dragon fire. The only thing that could have done that"

"It's pretty" said Nessa "I told Lyon it was your name day and when he came back he had that"

The little girl cheerfully petted the wolf as if it was perfectly normal behaviour. The bond between Lyon and Tyrion was undeniable – just as strong as hers had once been with Nymeria. It was strange though. The Starks were of the North and bonds with direwolves had been rumoured for centuries. Tyrion had no Northern blood but shared a bond with Lyon as if he was a Stark. Not that it mattered to Arya. Tyrion was her brother and she was thrilled he had such a loyal little friend.

"You found it?" asked Tyrion, stroking the wolf's head

Lyon tilted his head to one side nudging at the stone.

"I've never seen anything like this" said Sansa, as Tyrion passed her the stone "Even during the clean-up of Winterfell"

"Aww, even Lyon wanted to celebrate your name day" said Arya

"Thank you Lyon" said Tyrion mouth turning upwards "aren't you a clever wolf?"

Lyon barked happily, bouncing off Tyrion in search of his water bowl.

"A wolf of few words" said Tyrion

"This stone is beautiful" said Sansa, handing it back to him "keep it somewhere safe"

"I have just the place" said Tyrion, moving stiffly from the chaise. As he rose he took hold of the lion toy Nessa had gifted him "and the perfect guardian for it"

He limped across the room towards the table where his presents sat, Nessa hovering at his side. To Arya's satisfaction he opened the box she'd gifted him, placing the stone inside before sitting the lion toy on top.

"Now it's well protected by a fierce lion" said Tyrion, grinning at his squire

The two continued to chat happily as Tyrion showed Nessa his new sword and book. Arya noticed her sister watching the two interact, a hint of longing in her blue eyes.

"Tyrion's name day is going well" said Arya, drawing her attention

"It is. He seems so surprised by everything"

"His family treated him horribly; all of this is new to him"

"I know – it just hurts to see" said Sansa "He doubts everything"

"Yeah, but he's getting better" said Arya "Don't think I haven't noticed the way he looks at you. It's obvious how much he cares"

Sansa's face flushed "I was so awful to him, I really don't deserve it"

"You made mistakes, but you're trying to fix them. Tyrion's trying too – you can see he's trying to open up around us"

"He is" said Sansa "Sometimes he's gets so quiet though; I'd give anything to know what he's thinking"

Over the past week Arya had caught both of them staring at each other, unable to say whatever was on their mind. It was easy enough to see though. They'd both suffered horrendously in their lives - Arya hoped they could make each other happy.

---

Sansa threaded her arms around Tyrion as he leaned heavily on the banister. This was the first time he'd attempted the stairs and she was more nervous than her husband. Lyon didn't appear terribly concerned as he trotted behind them.

"I'm ok Sansa" he said, breathing heavily "Just a little out of practice with stairs"

"You're doing well" she said "There's no rush at all"

They struggled down a couple more steps with Sansa gripping him for support. While he was wary of putting too much weight on his ankle, Tyrion's problem appeared to be endurance rather than pain. He'd admitted to her his ankle ached somewhat, but judging by his heavy breathing it was the exertion that was getting to him. Maester Wolkan had assured her Tyrion would regain his strength in time, but for now she was terrified of him stumbling in his tiredness.

"Rest here" she said as they reached the bottom of one flight "Not much further to go"

"I could do this all day" he said, though his face had paled considerably "Don't worry Sansa, I won't fall"

"I know you won't, but if you do - try to land on Arya"

Her younger sister swivelled around to glare at them "So that's why I'm here? To break Tyrion's fall?"

"Why else would I possibly ask you to stand in front of us while we came down stairs? If Tyrion falls, he needs a soft landing"

"You're his wife, shouldn't you be cushioning him?"

"Yes, but you're his little sister – that's the whole point of younger siblings"

Tyrion squirmed in her grasp, pushing himself forwards once more "As much as I appreciate your willingness to sacrifice Arya to save me, I have no intention of falling and ending up on bed rest again"

"For what it's worth Tyrion – if you fell I would save you" said Arya, turning around to resume their journey "Sansa however, is on her own"

Lyon barked in agreement and Sansa rolled her eyes, refocusing on Tyrion as they attempted the final steps. She'd planned this surprise in the great hall, but hadn't quite anticipated how difficult getting Tyrion down the stairs might be. Her husband appeared to be having a similar thought, as they made the final step down into the corridor.

"That was an adventure" he said, his chest heaving under her hand "Has anyone given any thought to getting back upstairs?"

"Sansa can carry you on her back" suggested Arya "Compared to the crushing weight of the North you'd be easy to carry"

The Queen combed her hand through Tyrion's unruly hair as he regained his breath "I'd carry you anywhere my love"

"As much as I appreciate that, I think I'd rather salvage some pride and crawl"

"Ready to carry on?" asked Arya, nodding down the hallway

"Are you going to tell me what we're doing?"

"No" said Sansa, linking his arm "It's a surprise"

Now they were back on level ground Sansa eased her grip from Tyrion, offering her arm for support. Arya led the way down the corridor until they came to a stop outside the side entrance to the great hall. Sansa nodded to her sister who made her way into the room, herself and Tyrion close behind. The lord of Winterfell took several steps into the hall before freezing, his arm tightening around Sansa's.

It had taken a lot of fast work but the Stark banners that hung around the hall were now interspersed with black banners bearing a golden lion. She watched in satisfaction as Tyrion's gaze roamed over the new decorations, before landing on the high table. The main table was nearly full - with Tyrion's friends sat there waiting for them to join.

"I wanted to give you a feast fit for a lord, but then I thought you might prefer something with your family and friends" she whispered to him

"Sansa…thank you"

"Do you like the new banners?"

He nodded, voice breaking "You didn't have to do this"

"I wanted to do this. Besides the lord of Winterfell is a lion and that should be clear for everyone to see"

"Thank you"

"You're always welcome. Shall we eat?"

They made their way over to the head table where Arya had already taken her place to the left of Sansa's seat. Lyon had quickly found his way to the bowl of food and drink left not far from the table for him and had eagerly begun lapping up the water.

The Queen helped Tyrion into his seat on her right as she sat in her usual place at the middle of the table. Whereas Sansa had wanted to throw a feast to honour Tyrion, Arya had pointed out he probably wouldn't enjoy being the centre of such an event – particularly when he could hardly walk around. Instead she'd planned a more intimate dinner and invited his friends. To her shame, Sansa had needed her sister's help to find out who his friends were and invite them. While she'd seen many of them visiting her husband, she was well aware they feared her. Even now they looked uncomfortable sat at the high table.

Directly opposite her was a youngish man she recognised as Alec, the captain of her guard. To either side of him sat the young brothers Lyle and Cayn, with a very old man sat in between Lyle and Brice. Next to Cayn sat Maester Wolkan, then an old woman who Sansa assumed was the seamstress, followed by Nessa next to Tyrion.

"Happy name day Tyrion" chirped Nessa, beaming up at him "Mother and Ethan are sorry they couldn't come, but it was too far for them"

"Thank you Nessa" said Tyrion, smiling at the girl "Please say hello to them for me"

"It's good to see you m'lord" said the old woman, leaning around Nessa to him "I was very worried for you"

Her husband's face flushed "I've missed visiting you. Thank you very much for the clothes too"

The woman dropped her voice, but Sansa heard her anyway "Anything for my favourite little lion"

Servants flew around the table putting out a huge spread of food and drink as the guests sat quietly, often glancing nervously at her. Nessa was the most at ease, but she was sat next to Tyrion and presumably thought he would protect her from the Queen. They were all members of the Winterfell household to some extent and it hurt to see their fear of her. None of the Winterfell household had ever feared her father or Robb – they'd been respected but not feared. Whatever reservations they had about their Queen, it was clear they all cared for Tyrion though. The distance between Sansa and her household was her own doing, but she wanted to change that. These people were her husband's friends and she wanted them to be comfortable around her too.

When all of the food and drink was laid out Sansa lifted her cup "I'd like to thank you all for joining us tonight to celebrate Tyrion's name day. A toast to the bravest man I know. He's a true lion and a true northerner - I couldn't be prouder to call him my husband. To lord Tyrion!"

"To lord Tyrion!" echoed the guests, joining her toast with enthusiasm

Tyrion shrunk into his seat as she spoke, his face flushing a bright red at the toast.

Arya was quick to attack the food and the guests followed her lead, breaking into quiet chatter. Sansa turned to Tyrion sat beside her - his green eyes bright and watery.

"Thank you Sansa" he said quietly "Everything you do for me…it's far more than I deserve"

Sansa kissed his cheek, adding softly "I love you more than anything Tyrion. Enjoy your name day sweetheart"

Tyrion's face grew even redder at the gesture, shooting her a shy smile before turning to his dinner. The atmosphere was light at the table, but there was an undeniable nervousness beneath it all that Sansa knew was her fault. She'd alienated the Winterfell household and small folk. While they clearly had great love for Tyrion, they were wary of her. Her husband seemed rather nervous too and Sansa was glad she hadn't thrown a huge feast for him. While the old Tyrion would have likely been deep into the wine and making crude jokes to entertain them by now, her husband's wine remained untouched as he sat quietly beside her.

It was to be expected. After the Wolfswood Tyrion had been locked away in their chambers all day, with only the occasional visits from his friends; this was the furthest he'd been for weeks. Sansa was determined to help Tyrion find his lost confidence. She understood Tyrion was a changed man from who he'd once been, but Sansa wanted him to be comfortable in his home - with his family and friends around him.

"Hey Tyrion" called Cayn, leaning across "We were telling Emory how much you missed helping him in the kennels"

"Aye, I'm sure he does" snorted the old man

Sansa's ears pricked up. She'd wondered who the old man was, though she had certainly seen him before.

"I have missed helping you" said Tyrion "Can't say I miss the smell of dog shit though"

Emory barked out a laugh "Lingers don't it? The lads here came to help a couple of times - not that they was any use"

"We tried" said Lyle rolling his shoulders "But it was hard work"

"My back ached for days afterwards" added Cayn

"I didn't get no complaints from lord Tyrion" said Emory, shaking his head "best kennel boy I ever had - didn't need to pay him neither"

Tyrion grinned beside her "So if this whole lordship thing doesn't work out I have a future as a kennel boy?"

"Aye, I'll have ya back. These green boys are useless"

Sansa's eyes flicked to Arya on her left and her sister didn't seem at all surprised that Tyrion had apparently been helping out in the kennels. She wasn't sure what shamed her more; that a man as old as Emory was doing such hard labour or that she didn't know her husband gave up his time to help.

The conversation moved along and she noticed Arya exchanging banter with Lyle, while Tyrion was absorbed in conversation with Esther and Nessa. Her sharp eyes observed the guests, focusing on Alec in particular. Arya was keen for her to build her own council of people she trusted and had mentioned the captain of the Winterfell guard several times. She'd seen him visiting Tyrion and according to Arya they were close friends. Trusting people was hard for Sansa but her sister was right; she had to try. A council to share the burden of ruling would be useful and her iciness to Tyrion a few days ago had amplified that point. Sansa did not want to lose herself under the crown ever again.

"Lord Tyrion, how is your hand?" asked Wolkan

"Better, thank you"

"That's good to hear. The procedure is rather unpleasant but the worst of the pain should be over" said the Maester, inclining his head

"That mean you're back to training soon?" asked Lyle, grinning at Tyrion

"I don't know..." said Tyrion, shrugging awkwardly

Getting Tyrion to accept his new sword had been as difficult as she'd expected, but there was no doubt in her mind in her mind about giving it to him. Sansa hoped he would never need to use it for anything more than training, but she felt better knowing he had something to defend himself with. For as long as she'd known Tyrion he rarely carried a weapon with him, unlike most men - particularly in the North. If he'd been armed the night he was taken, perhaps he could have escaped. She shook her head to clear the thoughts. It was no use dwelling on the past, but she would make sure Tyrion never left Winterfell unarmed again. Aside from that, Sansa had hoped giving him the sword might encourage him to continue with his newfound hobby and go some way to rebuilding his self-confidence.

Alec appeared to share a similar thought on training "You could still come and do some light exercise, or just hang out with us. We won't push you"

"I'd like to" said Tyrion, fiddling with his fork "I don't want to do more damage though"

"As long as it was light and you take your time I see no harm in doing some exercise my lord" said Wolkan, stroking his beard "Your injuries are healing well enough, though I fear the illness you suffered stole much of your strength. Perhaps when you are more comfortable moving around it would be a good way to aid your recovery"

"What do you think?" asked Tyrion, glancing up at her

"I think it's a good idea" she said, smiling at her husband "You're getting better every day"

"You should come" added Brice, gesturing to Lyle and Cayn "I can't take those two moping anymore that you aint there"

"Please come back" said Lyle, leaning forward in his seat "We need to have a rematch – I've been practicing!"

"I haven't" said Tyrion "I've been eating and napping"

"Not your fault my love" said Sansa, brushing her hand over his "I believe it was a royal decree that you had to rest"

"Ya should do it – might give the lad a chance" said Brice

Nessa straightened up in her seat "Tyrion could still win, even if he's hurt"

A chorus of laughter rang out at Nessa's innocent declaration, though Tyrion quickly turned to her "This is why you're my squire and they're not!"

The little girl beamed up at him "Don't worry Tyrion, if they're mean to you Lyon will eat them"

"I'm sure he will" laughed Tyrion, glancing at his friend in the corner

The direwolf's ears pricked up at his name, giving a soft bark of agreement.

"Might take him a while" snorted Lyle

"I don't know, he looks a fierce little thing" said Esther, watching the wolf

"He's clever too. Tyrion teaches him all sorts of tricks" added Arya, a smirk crossing her face

"He's not very big for a direwolf" mused Cayn "I thought they were as big as horses"

An impish grin spread across Tyrion's face "Oh, he's not big enough for you?"

The two brothers exchanged looks "We didn't mean..."

"I'd run boys" said Emory

"No point" said Brice, cheerfully downing his ale "kiss those fingers goodbye lads"

"Oh, Lyon" called Tyrion, grinning at his friends "They called you small"

The golden wolf moved from his bowl, coming to rest at Tyrion's side.

"We didn't mean it Lyon" said Cayn, pushing backwards in the chair

"It was Cayn" protested Lyle "I'm your friend!"

Lyon tilted his head to one side, observing his prey across the table.

"Direwolves are very fast, you know" said Wolkan, turning to the boys "If I were you I'd have started running minutes ago"

Alec leaned back in his chair "Reckon you two could use the workout"

Tyrion wound his hand through the wolf's fur, leaning closer to his ear "Lyon, chase!"

The wolf shot under the table as Lyle and Cayn scrambled out of their chairs and took off across the great hall. The high table descended into laughter as Lyon relentlessly chased them across the room.

"Go on Lyon!" cheered Arya "Defend your honour"

"Get them Lyon" said Nessa, bouncing in her seat

Tyrion's friends egged the direwolf on as the two boys darted around the room. Sansa's eyes found her husband. Tyrion was grinning widely at the scene; a lightness in his eyes that she rarely saw. She wrapped her arm around him, tugging him into a hug. Green eyes rose to meet hers, and Sansa found herself smiling. There was still a lot of healing to do, but the spark of joy in her husband's face gave her hope. The darkness that clung to her husband had lifted, even if only for a night – and for Sansa that was enough to make everything worth it.

---

Following dinner they'd returned to their chambers, with the guests and Arya drifting off towards their own beds and homes. Getting upstairs had been exhausting and Tyrion's energy was ebbing as Sansa helped him into his bed clothes. Rather than go straight to bed they'd sat on the chaise together, the hearth crackling cheerfully as it warmed the room.

Today had been unbelievable. When Sansa had brought him North and asked for his help, he'd assumed he would work until he died. He'd never imagined that Winterfell could be his home, or the Starks would take him as family.

He'd sat with Sansa reading some of the book Arya had gifted him, before settling against each other and talking idly about different things. Sansa had offered him some wine which he'd refused, but the Queen had poured herself some and now sat sipping it beside him – her arm draped around his shoulders. There was so much he wanted to say to Sansa, but the words never seemed to come. He wanted to try; more than ever he wanted Sansa to know how he felt. Despite his resolve, Tyrion's stomach fluttered with nerves as he turned to the woman beside him.

"Sansa – I can't thank you enough"

"You don't need to thank me at all"

Tyrion shook his head "Yes, I do. My name day has never been particularly pleasant until today. The last few years I've ignored it completely"

Her face softened as she tightened her grip around him "You won't be ignoring it ever again. Did your family never celebrate your name day?"

"It was never really cause for celebration"

Sansa's mouth turned downwards "Because you're a dwarf?"

"Partly" he agreed "But the main reason was always mother"

Understanding dawned across Sansa's face "Oh, gods. I never even thought of that..."

"Its fine" he said quickly "As much as I always wondered what my mother was like, the loss of someone I never knew didn't give me any particular grief over my name day. Though it did cause my family to treat the day with more disdain than usual – they always blamed me for mother's death"

"How could they possibly blame you for that? It's ridiculous"

"Jamie never blamed me, but father and Cersei did. They celebrated my name day because it was expected of them – to preserve the family image. Their hatred of me was always less well-hidden on that day however"

Sansa's soft blue eyes met his "I'm so sorry Tyrion"

"Don't be sorry" he said, offering her a smile "I'm only telling you this so you understand. Today meant a lot to me Sansa. Not because of all your wonderful gifts; which I truly appreciate, but because you and Arya went out of your way to make today special. You had no obligation - I wouldn't have minded if you ignored the day completely. There was no reason for you to do anything at all, but you did and it meant the world to me"

"We did it because we're your family" she said, lightly rubbing his shoulder "We love you so very much"

Tyrion's heart sped up, frantically pounding in his chest "I know you do"

Before he could talk himself out of it Tyrion turned to Sansa, lightly pressing his lips to her cheek

"Thank you" he said as he quickly pulled back, his stomach stirring as he gauged her reaction.

To his relief her face lit up, blue eyes sparkling as she met his gaze. Tyrion had struggled for days with trying to give Sansa some sign of his love. The words always failed him and he'd worried she may reject his physical affection. The brief flash of disgust in her eyes when they'd kissed at their wedding in Kings Landing always lurked in the back of his mind.

Now he could see nothing but love. She looked happy – not at all disgusted that he'd kissed her. Warmth spread through his chest and without thinking he leaned towards Sansa. She met him half way, pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth which he hesitantly returned. Tyrion's mind went blank. This was like nothing he'd experienced before. Sansa had kissed his mouth a few times, but it was always brief and he'd never responded to it. Now, his body reacted with enthusiasm; their tentative kiss growing more comfortable by the second.

After a few moments, he pulled back – some of his sense returning even as he felt a long absent stirring in his lower region. He wanted to show Sansa his love for her, but he didn't want to give her the wrong idea either. He might never be ready to go further. Fortunately Sansa seemed to understand his withdrawal, smiling warmly at him as she stroked her hand through his hair.

"I'm glad you enjoyed today" she said, her face glowing "You look tired, my love"

"Yes" he said, fiddling with his sling "It's been rather a busy day"

"Shall we go to bed?" she asked, before adding "We could both use some sleep"

Tyrion let out a breath at her clarification of going to bed. He nodded and they set about making their way across the room. A knot of nerves unwound within him as they climbed beneath the sheets, Sansa kissing his head lightly before turning to extinguish the lights.

"Sleep well Tyrion" she said, before settling under the covers

"Good night"

Sansa had kept her word. Tyrion's heart swelled as he cast a final glance at his wife. He'd kissed her and she'd kissed him back. It was nothing like her controlling affections early in their relationship - it was gentle and caring. The doubting voice in his mind was strangely silent as he settled down to sleep beside her.

---

"Suppose this is as good a time as any to meet the neighbours, eh?" said Bronn, strolling beside Bran's wheelchair as Pod pushed him up the path to Greywater Watch

"We need a good relationship with the North" said Bran "Yourself and Lord Reed will bear the most responsibility for maintaining the border between Kingdoms"

"Better you don't offend them Ser Bronn" said Brienne, hand on sword as she escorted them in

Several of house Reed's guards had met them outside the gate, leading them into an audience within the castle. It was a respectful reception for a visiting King. If the North was still part of Westeros this visit would have been a celebrated occasion. If Bran hadn't lost the friendship he once had with Meera things might be different.

"Never cared for the neck much, bogs everywhere. One minute you're walking the next you're sinking. Makes the castle hard to take though" said Bronn pointing at the lands surrounding the castle

"We're here on an important visit; not to plunder the place" said Brienne, shooting a glare at Bronn

"I aint gonna plunder it" said Bronn "but that fancy armour of yours will sink ya quicker than anything. I'd be wary straying from the path if I were you"

"The swamps around here are damned dangerous if you're in a boat too. In bad weather it's hard to judge where the sea ends and the swamp begins" said Ser Davos, walking at his other side

"Quite right Ser Davos. If you were a less competent smuggler you'd have died in the swamp here all those years ago" said Bran

The older man's gaze grew uneasy at the reminder of Bran's power. The King sighed. Conversations weren't as simple as they used to be. The power of the three eyed raven made it easy to see so much, and the knowledge leaked into Bran's subconscious constantly. Controlling what he said was difficult when he could see through a thousand eyes. It was a learning process; balancing Bran and the three-eyed raven.

At first he'd believed Bran Stark was dead, but he was in there somewhere; a piece of him that wasn't consumed by the raven. That was what this visit was all about; Bran Stark.

The doors to the hall were opened and Bran was wheeled in with Brienne in front of him, Ser Davos and Bronn either side of him. His sworn shield pushed him in the centre of the room while the Reed guards took up position around the hall. Brienne had wanted them to bring guards of their own; Bran knew there was no need. The rest of his party had made camp on some of the safer lands surrounding Greywater Watch with lord Reed's blessing. Bran was stopping here on his way to visit their Queen after all – hospitality was expected.

"King Bran" greeted lord Reed, inclining his head slightly "I welcome you to Greywater Watch. Our hospitality is yours"

The man was short with brown hair turning grey; far older than he'd looked at the tower of joy. He reminded Bran of Jojen. Stood to his side was Meera. Her dark hair was longer than it used to be, but she still carried a spear as she stood to the side of the lord's seat.

"I must thank you lord Reed" said Bran "not for your hospitality though. Your son and daughter risked their lives to keep me safe; to lead me beyond the wall so I could become the three-eyed raven. I'm sorry for Jojen - he was my friend"

The lord stiffened at the mention of his son, before slumping into his seat "Thank you. Jojen had the green sight – he knew the risks when he led you beyond the wall, as did Meera"

'You don't need me anymore'

'No, I don't'

The three-eyed raven felt nothing as the memory of those words washed over him - but Bran did.

"Lady Meera, I owe you an apology" said Bran, turning to his former friend "the last time we spoke I was quite cold to you. I should have thanked you properly for everything you sacrificed for me. You were my friend"

Her face was guarded as she answered "Bran Stark was my friend, you're not him anymore"

"I wasn't. Seeing so much so suddenly - it changed everything. I'll never be as I was"

"I liked Bran Stark"

"He's still alive" said Bran, attempting a smile "I found him somewhere"

The corners of Meera's mouth twitched upwards and lord Reed looked between them, shifting awkwardly in his seat "Your rooms are prepared King Bran. We look forward to hosting you for dinner this evening"

Bran nodded his head at the lord as servants appeared to show them to their chambers. This visit wasn't strictly necessary, but the loss of Meera's friendship often drifted through his mind. At the very least Bran had wanted to offer some kind of acknowledgement to house Reed that their sacrifices on his behalf hadn't meant nothing to him.

---

The days following Tyrion's name day passed in a blur of preparation for Bran's visit. Tyrion continued to improve, walking further each day with Sansa to assist him. As she busied herself going over the trade deal that would be signed with Bran, she found her gaze wandering to her husband sat across from her.

When Tyrion kissed her the other night, Sansa had almost wept with joy. She'd resigned herself to the possibility Tyrion may never return her affections, as much as she knew he cared for her. That he'd reached out to her meant everything. After he'd kissed her cheek, Tyrion had leaned forwards and she'd been unable to stop herself from kissing him properly. Much to her joy Tyrion had responded, sending a thrill through her body that set her nerves on fire. It had been so easy to lose herself kissing Tyrion, but she didn't want to push him any further than he wanted to go. He was in control, and she wanted that to be clear.

Since then they'd fallen into a habit of sharing a kiss each night before bed. It varied each time. Some nights it was the briefest brush against each other and some nights they kissed until they were flushed and panting. Whichever it was Sansa left it up to her husband – she was happy with whatever affection he was willing to give. They'd kiss until Tyrion pulled back, both settling down to sleep straight after.

"Everything alright Sansa?"

Tyrion's deep voice drew her from her thoughts, heat rising up her neck at the realisation she'd been staring at him "Very well, thank you"

He raised an eyebrow "Really? You've been pretending to read that trade agreement for quite some time"

"It's not the most exciting read"

"I'm sure it isn't" he said "These letters aren't any more exciting, though Lady Barbrey Dustin has replied to my letter. She claims to have received a similar offer of joining a rebellion as house Mazin did. She didn't know who it was from and ignored it entirely"

"At least she hasn't joined them as far as we know"

"I doubt she would" said Tyrion "Lady Dustin is rather old and her letter makes it quite clear she's had enough of war. She does mention writing to you a few times and receiving no reply though"

Tyrion passed her the letter as he moved to the next in his pile. Sansa scanned the contents, her heart sinking. This was the second house they knew of that had been approached and had refused to join a rebellion against her. It was good news, but Sansa feared how many houses had received an offer and accepted it.

"House Dustin are one of the bigger Northern houses, if they'd gone against me it might have caused huge problems" she mused, re-reading the letter

When she gained no response Sansa lowered the letter, her eyes quickly seeking her husband. Tyrion's face had lost all colour; his hand trembling at the letter he clutched.

"What's wrong?" she asked, moving from her chair to go to his side

His eyes were haunted as she tugged the letter from his grip.

Hello lord of Winterfell,

I heard you survived your experience in the Wolfswood, though I'm sure it left its mark on you. I'm actually quite pleased you survived – we have unfinished business after all. You think you're safe, but you're not. Winter is coming for the Starks and when they're dead they'll be no-one left for you to hide behind. You'll be my pet and I'll break you in properly this time.

So many ideas and plans for you my pet, I can barely sleep with excitement. I'm sure you miss me just as much, but you already have a permanent reminder of our time together if you get lonely.

Fear not; we'll be together again soon.

Bile burned up Sansa's throat as she read the unsigned letter, her heart hammering in her chest. This could only be from Robin and Gawan. Glancing down she found Tyrion's face twisted in fear.

Without hesitating Sansa dropped to her knees beside his chair, pulling her husband against her. He was stiff in her embrace but Sansa could feel the light tremble in his body; betraying his attempt to hide his fear.

"I won't let them hurt you" she said, running her hand through the back of his hair "We'll find them and they'll pay for what they've done. No-one is going to take you from me ever again, I promise"