Chapter 26

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Sansa, for what could have been the hundredth time

"I'm sure Sansa. I've ignored my duties for too long" said Tyrion, limping down the corridor with Sansa hovering nervously at his side

Arya followed behind them as they turned towards the great hall. It had been almost six weeks since Tyrion returned from the Wolfswood, and slowly his strength was returning. With Bran due to arrive tomorrow Tyrion had wanted to hold court as the lord of Winterfell at least once before then. Sansa was worried about him pushing himself too far too fast, but Arya thought it was a good idea. Tyrion hadn't been seen in public since he'd been brought home, and Bran's visit was going to be very public; she understood his desire to return to some duties before the royal visit.

That was before the letter had arrived this morning, however. Arya had been summoned immediately to her sister's chambers and presented with the letter those vile creatures had written to her brother. Her hand tightened around needle's hilt recalling the words. How dare they threaten Tyrion?

It was obvious the letter had shaken Tyrion, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Both her and Sansa had reassured Tyrion no-one would hurt him and justice would be done. He'd smiled and thanked them; insisting he continue with his plan to hold court. Sansa had been more reluctant than ever. If her sister had her way, Arya thought she might confine Tyrion to their chambers for the rest of his life. She understood Sansa wanted to protect him – Arya did too; but he couldn't be kept hidden away forever.

"My love, that letter was horrible – maybe we should go back upstairs. No-one will blame you if you need more time" said Sansa, as they paused outside the door

Tyrion sighed "I'm fine, really. It's a stupid letter from stupid boys"

That wasn't true in the slightest; it had clearly bothered him. The letter was cruel and taunting. When she'd arrived in their chambers, Tyrion's face had been white as a sheet as Sansa held him against her.

"It'll be fine" said Arya "I'm going to stay with him anyway"

"That's not necessary" said Tyrion

Arya watched the indecision flicker across her sister's face. She was Queen – she could overrule Tyrion and bar him from his duties as lord. Doing so would undermine his already fragile confidence though. Arya saw no harm in letting Tyrion hold court; if nothing else it might distract him from what he'd read.

"If you're sure" said Sansa, visibly deflating "but Arya is staying with you"

"Really-"

"Please" said Sansa, holding up her hand to stop him "for my peace of mind let Arya stay"

"Alright" he said, nodding "It'll be fine Sansa"

"I know" said Sansa "but I worry about you. You're still recovering"

Hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor until Nessa came into view, Lyon trotting ahead of her.

"Just in time" said Tyrion, forcing a smile at the young girl "I could certainly use my squire's help to hold court"

Nessa beamed at him "I'm ready Tyrion. I told Lyon to be quick hunting so we wouldn't be late"

"Suppose you're going to take a nap now?" said Tyrion, scratching at the wolf's ear

Lyon made no move to leave, sitting obediently at Tyrion's feet.

"You can't stay" Tyrion told him "I'm holding court"

"He should stay" said Sansa, eyes lighting up "the lord of Winterfell should have his direwolf with him"

Tyrion's brow furrowed "Is that really appropriate?"

"Absolutely" said Arya "Bran says Robb always brought Grey Wind with him when he heard petitioners"

"If you're sure"

"Please do" said Sansa "Direwolves are highly intelligent; if they take a dislike to someone be very wary"

Arya snorted "Lyon barely likes you"

Sansa's face reddened "We're working on it"

"Oh, very well" said Tyrion, patting the wolf's head "You can join me for court, but no napping"

Lyon barked in agreement, his tail wagging. Nessa tugged at Tyrion's sleeve "Ready Tyrion?"

"I think so" he said, turning to the Queen "I'll see you later Sansa"

Sansa still looked torn as Tyrion turned towards the great hall, limping on his own as Nessa eagerly pushed the door open and went to begin her duties as squire. His mobility had improved a lot, though he was still hobbling on his broken ankle.

"He'll be fine" offered Arya, brushing her sister's arm "I'll keep an eye on him"

"Tyrion won't be safe until they're dead" said Sansa "that letter..."

"I know. They'll pay for that"

"They need to pay soon"

"Bran arrives tomorrow" said Arya "maybe he can help"

Sansa's voice was flat as she answered "I doubt that very much"

"Either way, we will find them Sansa – I promise"

The Queen nodded, casting a final look at her husband as he made his way to his seat. Already petitioners were lining the hall to see him, with a number of guards stationed around the room to keep order. Injured as he was, Tyrion still looked impressive as he took his seat on the platform, Lyon at his side. The letter had undoubtedly shaken him, but he was refusing to let it show.

"I should get going" said Arya, stepping towards the great hall "Good luck with your meeting"

Her sister's eyes were filled with worry as she reluctantly turned away from Tyrion "Keep him safe"

Sat in the meeting room with Maester Wolkan at her side, Sansa studied the man sat opposite her. The captain of the Winterfell guard seemed relaxed enough; though his eyes were alert and focused.

"Do you know why I invited you to this meeting?" she asked

"No, your Grace" replied Alec

"As Queen I'm responsible for the North – and it's a huge responsibility"

"You handle it well, your Grace"

Sansa inclined her head, deciding to get straight to the point "Since becoming Queen I've handled as much as I could alone, with limited success. You must understand trust does not come easily to me, but recent events have shown where my real priorities lie, and I will not lose myself beneath a crown again"

Alec nodded, saying nothing.

"To ease the burden of ruling and more effectively rule the North I need a council of trusted advisors. People I can trust to handle issues without the need for constant supervision. I need a council whose loyalty to my family is unquestionable"

Sansa sucked in a breath, eyes locked onto the man opposite her "I'd like you to join my council"

Alec's eyes showed a flicker of surprise, before a small smile crossed his face "You honour me, your Grace"

"Arya suggested I add you to my council, and my husband thinks very highly of you – they are the people I trust most in the world. After conferring with both of them I made my decision. Do you accept?"

The man bowed his head "Certainly your Grace. I will do my best to serve you"

Sansa nodded, turning to Wolkan "You have been a loyal advisor Maester, and I wish to reaffirm your place on my council. Moving forwards I will not allow myself to be consumed by work and require a trusted advisor such as yourself to aid me"

"I am yours to command, your Grace" said the old man, bowing his head

Sansa relaxed in her chair somewhat. A council was necessary – Arya was right. Being the Queen was a huge honour, but the crown had nearly cost her Tyrion and that was unacceptable. Aside from that, the closer she grew to her husband the more she resented the endless work that consumed her day. A council could help. It would give her more time to spend with those who really mattered. The only real barrier was her trust issues. She'd asked Tyrion's opinion on a council and he'd agreed with Arya that it was a good idea; no Queen could possibly do everything alone.

"Now that's settled, I fear we must press on to less pleasant business" she said, pulling a letter from the folds of her gown "Tyrion received this letter with his usual correspondence this morning. It bears no name or sigil, but it's clear where it came from"

She passed it to Wolkan, watching the Maester's face pale at the words "Your Grace, I beg your forgiveness. When I sent your correspondence to you both this morning, I had no idea..."

"There's nothing to forgive. Many merchants write to Tyrion who use no seal, he assumed it was one of them until he read it"

Wordlessly the Maester passed it to Alec. The captain of the guards face grew dark as he read it, anger sparking in his calm eyes "We've still heard no word of their whereabouts, your Grace"

"I suspected as much" she said, sighing heavily "Bran arrives tomorrow and several lords and ladies will follow a few days after to witness the signing of the trade agreement. Winterfell is going to be busy and security needs to be increased, especially around Tyrion. No-one will hurt him ever again"

"Understood" said Alec "I'll co-ordinate with the Tallhart and Cerwyn captain's. No-one unauthorised will be permitted within Winterfell"

Sansa nodded in approval, glancing to Wolkan "Is there any way to trace where the raven carrying that message came from?"

"I will do all I can, your Grace" said the Maester "But it's highly unlikely"

"Its possible my brother will help us when he arrives, but we cannot rely on that" said Sansa, clutching her hands in her lap "Whatever it takes – Robin and Gawan must be brought to justice as soon as possible"

"Of course, your Grace" said Wolkan "with your leave I will make enquiries into the origins of this letter right away"

"Please do" she said, turning her gaze to Alec "If you could make the necessary arrangements to secure Winterfell, and increase the guard around Grey Worm. I'd hoped we could have taken his head by now, but he's a key witness against Gawan and Robin. He can't die until they're brought to justice – as much as I want him to"

"It will be done" said Alec, adding darkly "I'd quite happily take his head too"

Sansa nodded, satisfied with the beginnings of her council. While the Maester was nearly always present at meetings, Sansa did intend on giving him more authority and trusting him with her work. His care of Tyrion had been exemplary and she did trust him. While she didn't know Alec particularly well, Tyrion was good friends with him and his easy going manner reminded Sansa fiercely of Jory. Arya had once shared a similar sentiment with her. For too long she'd put her trust in the wrong places; this time she hoped it wasn't misplaced.

Tyrion's body ached as he limped towards the practice yard, Lyon trotting happily at his side. This was the first time he'd been outside for weeks and his battered body was protesting the exertion. Court had gone fairly well, and many of the petitioners had expressed their joy at his return to duty. Escaping Arya's watchful gaze afterwards had been more difficult. He'd told her where he was going and she'd immediately offered to accompany him. As much as he appreciated her and Sansa's fussing, he just needed to be alone for a while. Arya's grey eyes had filled with sympathy and she'd reluctantly agreed to let him go alone. Since he'd received that letter this morning they'd watched him like he was about to break down, no matter how much he told them it didn't bother him.

'It does bother you' taunted his fear 'they're coming to get you'

Maybe it bothered him a little. At the very least it had ignited the dark voices in his mind; taunting him with what Robin and Gawan would do to him.

'I've missed you my pet' sang Gawan's voice in his ear, as he trudged onwards

No. He wouldn't let them bother him.

'Sansa and Arya can join the fun too. Do you want to hear a wolf cry?'

Tyrion screwed his eyes shut as his heart pounded furiously in his chest. No – he wouldn't let that happen. He had to get stronger; had to protect them. The practice yard came into view but Tyrion was already exhausted. His ankle ached fiercely at the prolonged movement and his arm was still strapped across his chest. Frustration boiled through him as his body trembled. Why was he so weak? He loved Sansa and Arya – he wanted to protect them; but it was hopeless. Of the three of them he was by far the most helpless.

As he moved forwards his foot caught on the top of a rock concealed by the snow fall, he staggered forwards a couple of steps before the icy snow rose up to meet him. The air was knocked from his lungs as the cold immediately seeped into his clothes, chilling him. He threw his head back shaking off the snow, tension curling through his body.

He lashed out with his good hand striking the snow in front of him several times in rapid succession, while Lyon nudged against him. It wasn't fair. He was trying to be better than his family; to make amends – but every step he tried to take was like climbing a never-ending mountain. How pathetic must he look? A crippled dwarf playing lord of Winterfell; lying face down in the snow. Surely his father and sister were laughing at him from whichever hell they'd ended up in. He missed Jamie. His big brother wouldn't laugh; he'd help-

"Need a hand?"

Tyrion's head jerked up at the voice to find Alec crouching in front of him – his hand outstretched.

"This must look rather pathetic" he muttered, lowering his gaze

"Only if you stay down" said Alec, pushing his hand towards him "let me help"

Shame filled Tyrion as he accepted the offer, Alec pulling him to his feet as the snow dripped off him.

"Heading to the practice yard?" he asked cheerfully

"I was...but it was a stupid idea" said Tyrion, biting his lip "Thanks for the help..."

"Why's it stupid? You won't get stronger unless you train" said Alec "That's why you're going there isn't it?"

He shifted awkwardly on the spot "It was"

"The Queen added me to her council earlier on"

Tyrion forced a smile "Congratulations"

"I'm very honoured. She showed me that letter too"

He fiddled with the sling around his arm "It's just a stupid letter"

"They're taunting you"

"I'm quite used to that – I've had a lifetime of experience. It doesn't bother me"

Alec's face softened "It doesn't bother you? It bothered me"

"Yes...well I'm sure there are things you'd rather be doing. Thanks for the help" said Tyrion dropping his head as he turned to leave "Come Lyon"

Thankfully the snow had cushioned his fall and he didn't seem to have done any damage, though his ankle and arm were still aching.

A hand on his shoulder halted him "I thought you wanted to train?"

"How am I supposed to do that?" said Tyrion, looking back at Alec "I can't even get down here without falling over. How can I protect Sansa and Arya when I couldn't even protect myself? I'm weak"

"From what I heard you could have protected yourself. You could have escaped from the Wolfswood alone, but you didn't. You single-handedly protected forty women – saving them from a life of abuse and cruelty"

Tyrion froze, his words sticking in his throat as Alec continued.

"What you suffered was inhuman – but it wasn't because you're weak. You suffered because you were strong enough to protect those who couldn't protect themselves"

"No, that's not..."

"It is true" said Alec "I won't pretend to understand what you're going through Tyrion, but I'll help you as much as you'll let me"

Tyrion's throat grew tight "Thank you"

Alec smiled, patting his shoulder "Come on. You'll get your strength back in no time"

He didn't resist as his friend steered him towards the practice yard.

"I don't want to be their victim again" he said, dropping his voice "I'd rather die"

"You won't be" promised Alec

They'd taken a few steps when Tyrion realised something was missing "Wait, where's Lyon?"

"Wondering where you are" said Alec, pointing at the practice yard where the direwolf was tapping his paws impatiently

Despite the warmth of her chambers, Sansa couldn't help but find it cold without Tyrion. She'd expected him to return to their chambers after he held court, but Arya had appeared instead - saying he'd gone to the practice yard.

"Why would you let him go alone?" she'd snapped

Arya had rolled her eyes "You really think I ditched him? It's obvious he wanted some space after getting the letter those bastards wrote to him. I followed from a distance to make sure he was ok"

"You're not with him now"

"Relax, Alec ran into him and they went the practice yard together. I wasn't going to hang around and spy on him"

"I…I'm just worried about him" she'd said

Arya's face had softened "I know, but Tyrion's got a lot to work through. Taking out some frustration on a practice dummy might help him. Alec's with him anyway"

Since then Sansa had tried to busy herself in her chambers but her mind kept wandering back to Tyrion. He was regaining his independence, and Sansa was thrilled about that - as much as it scared her. The past few weeks they'd barely parted from one another. Tyrion's injuries and subsequent illness had left him helpless and part of her had enjoyed caring for him, despite the circumstances. Now he was healing she feared the closeness they'd been building would fade away.

It was a couple of hours after Arya visited when the door creaked open, Tyrion limping heavily into the room. She turned in her seat at the desk, eyes immediately checking him over. He looked dirty and exhaustion was etched on his face, even so he smiled at her.

"Hello Sansa"

He trudged over to the table, dropping into the chair next to her.

"Tyrion" she said, smiling warmly at him "I missed you"

"Oh, yes…after court I went to the practice yard"

He dropped his head as if bracing to be scolded. As much as Sansa had worried over him, this was his home and he could do what he liked - he didn't need to ask permission.

"Did it go well?"

"About as well as could be expected, I suppose" he said, glancing warily up at her "How was your day?"

"I got through all the work I needed to, and asked Alec to join the new council"

He nodded "Alec told me - he's a good man, you can trust him"

"I hope so" she said "Maester Wolkan wanted to see you. Since you're more mobile now he thinks the splint can come off your ankle and he wants to check your hand too"

"Suppose I should go and see him then"

Tyrion rose wearily from the chair as Sansa's heart twisted "Would you mind if I come too?"

"Of course not" he said, offering her a smile

Sansa stood, lightly kissing his head as she linked her arm through his "We'll see Wolkan and get dinner - I'm eager to hear how your first day back at court went"

They made their way to the door and Sansa tightened her grip on her husband. Whatever happened she didn't want to lose her closeness to Tyrion.

A fierce ache enveloped Tyrion as he forced his eyes open. The sword practice yesterday had left him utterly exhausted. Alec had been nothing but patient as he struck the practice dummy with a training sword, however feeble his efforts were. The effort had drained what little energy he had and by the time he'd gone to bed he'd slept deeply enough that no nightmares plagued him. That was the one good thing. Today he was paying for it as he rolled awkwardly up in the bed, his eyes finding Sansa already dressed and brushing her hair.

"Good morning" she called at the sound of him rustling "I wondered if you were going to sleep through Bran's visit"

'Is that an option?' he thought.

There was no part of him that was excited for this visit, particularly since Bronn, Brienne, Davos and Pod were coming too. His exile from Westeros had been humiliating, as much as he deserved it. Everything he'd suffered since then had only added to his humiliation. He wasn't who he used to be, and was rather wary of seeing them. He'd supported a Queen who'd slaughtered innocents after all - how could they even look at him?

"Tyrion?"

Sansa's concerned voice drew him from his thoughts and he flashed her a smile "Sorry Sansa, I fear I'm still half asleep"

The Queen's blue eyes studied him; her lips pursed "Are you feeling ok?"

"I'm fine" he said, stretching his body as he slid to the floor "It's nice to move my ankle again"

Maester Wolkan had removed the splint last night, though he'd wrapped a few bandages around the limb for extra support. His arm hadn't fared so well and the sling would have to be worn for at least a few more days, as would the tight splint around his hand.

"At least now you can wear your normal clothes and boots" said Sansa "the bandages on your arm aren't too bulky now either. Get changed and I'll find a tunic that will fit nicely and help you put your sling on"

He hobbled behind his screen tugging off the bed clothes Esther had made him. He found he preferred them to a night shift - he felt less exposed in bed with the light breeches covering his private area. His ankle was stiff as he awkwardly pulled on a good pair of black breeches, more used to the easy fitting pairs Esther had sent him. Sansa could be heard rustling through his draws for what she considered an appropriate tunic. While he was perfectly capable of finding one, it was somewhat sweet that Sansa still wanted to help him even though he was recovering.

His breeches on, Tyrion wandered out from behind his screen in search of a shift to go under his tunic. Sansa was still distracted in his draws when Tyrion noticed himself in the mirror. He never cared to look at his reflection and usually avoided seeing himself. Unwittingly he'd walked past the long mirror in the corner of the room and the sight that met him was gruesome.

He was a monster.

There was no other way to describe himself.

He was thin to the point of being scrawny, a raw scar cutting down from his chest and across his ribs. His face was even worse. His old battle scar once again bright red as it split his face - no beard to hide the disfigurement. Even his hair was far shorter than normal, exposing more of his face. His heart plummeted as he took in his appearance. Yet another jagged scar carved across his upper arm. Almost against his will he turned sideways in the mirror.

The mess of lash marks across his back stood out as ugly as ever, but that wasn't what he was looking for. His eyes were drawn to the pattern burned into the back of his shoulder. When he closed his eyes he could still feel the hot iron melting into his back. The brand had burned and ached for weeks - a constant reminder of its presence, but Tyrion hadn't actually seen it. What he did see turned his stomach. A large circle covered the back of his left shoulder, a series of lines and curves contained within it. The pattern was unique enough that Robin and Gawan's slaves would be easily identified even after they'd been sold. The burnt skin was red and raw - a permanent mark.

'You're mine' sang Gawan's voice in his ear

He swallowed thickly, reaching across himself with his right arm to touch it. His fingers were just able to brush the top of the brand and a flash of pain went through him at the contact. How could Sansa bear to look at him? He was an imp. A twisted little monster.

A warm hand closed around his own, gently guiding it from the brand as Sansa's regal reflection appeared in the mirror behind his own. A hollow ache rose in his chest as he took in her proud face framed by fiery hair. She was beautiful - how was she not disgusted by him?

The Queen knelt behind him, resting her head on his right shoulder as she rubbed his hand. Tears of shame formed at the corners of his eyes as he struggled to repress a tremor.

"I love you" she said, her blue eyes reflected back at him. Unflinching from his monstrous form.

"How can you even look at me?" he choked out

"Very easily"

"I'm a monster. I'm not fit to be your husband; I'm not fit to empty your chamber pot"

Sansa tightened her grip on his hand "Don't talk about yourself like that. You are the man I love"

"Have you seen me?" he asked, warm tears trickling down his face "You dreamed of a knight in shining armour or a handsome prince. Instead you got stuck with me"

"I didn't get stuck with you. I chose you Tyrion"

"Why would anyone do that?"

Sansa sighed, snaking her arms around him. Her eyes remained locked on their reflection in the mirror.

"In Kings Landing, Father planned to break my engagement to Joffrey - I was devastated of course, like the stupid little girl I was. He promised to make me a match with a man who was brave and gentle and strong. You are all those things and so much more, my love"

He stared at the reflection of himself in the mirror, Sansa's body entwined with his. Her eyes held nothing but tenderness as she stared back at him.

"You don't see what I do" whispered Tyrion

"Do you know what I see?" said Sansa, studying their reflection "I see the warmest green eyes that could only be yours. I see curly golden hair, which I adore"

She moved her hand, lightly brushing the long scar on his chest and sending a tingle through his body.

"I see scars that prove your courage; that you're a hero" she continued, her eyes never leaving their reflection "but most importantly, I see you Tyrion. I see all of you - and I love everything that you are"

The tears were escaping freely now as Tyrion stared at their reflection. He still couldn't believe it; he might never believe it - but Sansa did. That alone soothed some of the deep ache inside him.

"Who am I to disagree with a Queen?"

It was nearly midday when Bran's entourage was spotted and the activity within Winterfell ramped up to frantic. Servants scuttled about the castle as the household moved to the gate to receive the visitors. The crown rested heavily on Sansa's head as she made her way across the courtyard, her long grey gown and Stark cloak sweeping behind her. Arya walked to her left, dressed in a long tunic and slim breeches, the Stark direwolf stitched neatly throughout the design. At her right was Tyrion, doing his best to hide the limp his ankle was causing.

Her heart twisted as she glanced at her husband. Tyrion was wearing a fine black tunic with golden lions stitched delicately across the fabric, the heavy cloak she'd gifted him for his name day hanging over him. As far as Sansa was concerned he looked very handsome, but that obviously wasn't what Tyrion thought. Seeing himself in the mirror had upset him so suddenly, it had taken her a moment to realise what was wrong. As vain as it sounded, Sansa had always been told she was beautiful. The scars she'd received from Ramsay had dulled some of her youthful arrogance but even then she'd never been ashamed of her body the way Tyrion was.

It had been strange to see his insecurities laid out so plainly. She knew he didn't like his body, but the self-loathing in his eyes had been gut-wrenching. She'd done what she could to soothe him, and it seemed to have eased some of his anguish. Eventually she'd drawn him away from the mirror and helped him get ready for Bran's visit. She'd chosen his finest clothes making sure the lion sigil was visible. He'd appeared somewhat uncomfortable with the choice but Sansa didn't want him to hide who he was. She'd fastened his new cloak around him making sure to tell him how handsome he looked when she was finished. His left arm needed to remain in a sling and he'd reluctantly let her secure the damaged limb against him once more.

Watching him now the earlier vulnerability was once again hidden, but that didn't matter – Sansa knew it was there. The haunted look on his face when he'd reached to touch the brand on his shoulder had sent hot anger through Sansa. It wasn't fair. Those monsters hurt him so badly, but they were free – Tyrion continued to suffer. There was no doubt in Sansa's mind the letter he'd received yesterday had brought his insecurities to the surface, however much he tried to pretend it hadn't bothered him.

Coming to the gate of Winterfell, Sansa took her place in front as the rest of the household fell in behind her. Arya stood beside her, but she noticed Tyrion slowing down as if to hang back with the guards and servants. She moved her arm around his shoulders, gently tugging him along to stand with her and Arya.

"You belong with your family" she said gently at his questioning gaze

Tyrion nodded, his green eyes wandering to the road where several horses were now visible in the distance. He was nervous about Bran's visit; that much was plain to see. Truth be told Sansa was nervous too. She loved her brother, but the three-eyed raven unnerved her.

The pounding of hooves drew her attention as several riders flew just beyond them, a litter rattling in their wake. While she was nervous of seeing Bran, her heart leapt at the sight of a knight with a white cloak just in front of the litter; she had missed Brienne.

The lord commander dismounted easily, moving immediately to the litter. Guards bustled about the door, moving like a well-oiled machine to position a wheelchair until stepping back to reveal the King of the six kingdoms.

"Queen Sansa" greeted Bran

His dark hair was neatly cut and he was dressed in a fine dark blue tunic, a heavy cloak set around him and a blanket covering his legs.

His wheelchair was pushed towards her by his sworn shield; Podrick Payne. More of the guards dismounted forming a line behind her brother, as Ser Davos moved to stand beside him followed by Bronn. Ser Davos looked much the same as when she'd last seen him, though perhaps more tired. Bronn was the most changed from what she remembered – looking somewhat cleaner with fine clothes.

"King Bran" said Sansa, voice loud and clear across the area "The hospitality of the North is yours"

The formalities observed, Arya rushed from her place at her side wrapping her arms around Bran.

"It's good to see you" she said

"And you" returned Bran, a faint smile crossing his face as she pulled back

"Welcome home Bran" said Sansa, following her sister's lead and pulling her little brother into a hug

"Thank you Sansa" he said

Bran smiled at them, though his eyes moved beyond Sansa "Tyrion, it's good to see you"

Her husband shuffled on the spot "You too, your Grace"

"Call me Bran" he said, staring straight at him "You're my brother by marriage"

Tyrion's face grew tight "As you wish"

An awkward silence fell over them and it took Sansa a moment to realise Bran's group were all staring at Tyrion.

She cleared her throat, drawing their attention "I'm sure you're all exhausted after your journey. I'll have you shown to your rooms and the captain of my guards will show your men where they can make camp. A feast will be held later this evening to celebrate the union between the North and the Six Kingdoms of Westeros"

As if a spell had been broken, the guards and servants sprang into action as Bran's entourage were shown into Winterfell.

Bran nodded at his council who relaxed, Ser Brienne stepping towards Sansa.

"It pleases me greatly to see you again" she said, nodding her head

"You're always welcome here" said Sansa, wrapping her arms around the older woman who quickly returned the gesture "I've missed you"

"Queen Sansa" greeted Ser Davos, coming to her side "Good to see Winterfell looking in better shape"

"Looks better than Kings Landing anyway" said Bronn, sauntering towards Tyrion "Froze your balls off yet?"

"No, I haven't" said Tyrion flatly

The former sellswords face twisted briefly in surprise at the answer "Aye, reckon you've got used to it by now"

"I suppose I have"

Bronn was staring at Tyrion as if he'd never seen him before, and Sansa decided to move things along.

"Speaking of the cold, perhaps we should go inside?"

"Thank the Gods" said Davos, rubbing his hands "I'm getting too old for this bloody cold"

The group started to move across the courtyard, Tyrion turning quietly away from his former friend as he limped towards the castle. Arya and Brienne were following just behind Bran, already engaged in talk about fighting. Sansa fell in beside Bran's wheelchair with Tyrion hovering somewhere on the other side.

"Are you alright, my lord?" asked Podrick

The young man was pushing his King's wheelchair, but his attention was on Tyrion hobbling alongside it.

"I'm quite alright Ser Podrick" he said, smiling faintly at his former squire "Congratulations on your knighthood – it was long overdue"

"I owe it to you and Ser Brienne"

Tyrion shook his head "You owe me nothing"

"Don't forget me, I taught ya plenty too" said Bronn, clapping Pod on the back

"You taught him plenty if he wanted to be a sellsword" said Brienne

"I taught him how to survive and Tyrion taught him how to drink. Thought we'd need to teach him how to use his cock too, but he had that sorted. Remember when you bought him those whores?"

Bronn nudged against Tyrion, but her husband only nodded as Pod's face turned red.

"It's good he didn't learn more from you Bronn" added Brienne "Honour is the foundation of a good knight"

"If you've got too much honour, you aint going to survive – simple as that"

The two descended into bickering and Ser Davos sighed heavily next to her "Imagine that at every council meeting"

"I'd rather not" she said

"It does amuse me" said Bran, his face holding no humour "I'd like to visit the Godswood, if you don't mind"

"This is your home little brother" said Sansa, laying her hand on his shoulder as they came to a stop just outside the great hall

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes "I'll see you later then"

As the group dispersed, Sansa's eyes found Tyrion standing awkwardly to one side and she moved swiftly next to him.

"Come my love" said Sansa, softening her voice "There's time before dinner, will you join me for a game of cyvasse?"

He nodded, but his eyes were miles away as he took her offered arm and they headed inside.

The snow that had covered Winterfell for so many months was gradually lightening as the faintest whisper of spring breathed through the North. It would likely be many months until spring truly arrived however, and Arya's footsteps crunched lightly on the snow as she wound through the Godswood towards the heart tree.

Bran sat alone in his wheelchair as she approached, though a guard was undoubtedly wandering the trees nearby. His eyes were white as his head tilted back; a sign the three-eyed raven was flying somewhere.

She dropped onto the snowy ground near her brother, patiently waiting for him to return. Arya wasn't sure how long she waited, until Bran's dark brown eyes returned; a slow smile crossing his face.

"Sorry Arya, I didn't realise you were waiting"

"I didn't want to disturb you" she said, shrugging "How's it feel to be back home?"

"The three-eyed raven is stronger in the North. The old Gods hold more power here"

"Yeah, but are you happy to be home?"

Bran smiled but his eyes were vacant "I'm happy to see my family"

Silence lapsed between them and Arya traced a line with her finger in the snow before her. Talking to Bran was difficult these days, but she'd never give up trying. He would always be her brother; no matter what. Sansa often tried to make casual conversation with him, but Arya understood he struggled with that now - as if the things he saw overwhelmed his ability to speak casually. It didn't bother Arya as much; she'd always been blunter than her sister.

"You knew where Tyrion was in the Wolfswood" she stated. It wasn't a question.

"I did"

"You could have told us. He might not have had to suffer any of that"

The accusation hung in the air between them, a flash of regret crossing Bran's usually expressionless face.

"There was nothing I could do. The situation was too far gone" he said "Tyrion is a good man - I regret everything he's suffered"

"He's family - part of our pack"

Bran's mouth twitched upwards "You're a good sister Arya. I know you delayed your plans to find what's west of Westeros to help Sansa"

"Most of our family is dead or gone" she said "I have to protect the ones I can"

"Even you can't save them from themselves. Sansa has been her own worst enemy"

"She's made mistakes, but she's learned from them"

Bran stared at her a moment, before turning to the face in the heart tree "The three-eyed raven's power comes from the old Gods, being North again is a chance to explore it further"

Arya bit back a sigh at the sudden change in topic. Bran might never be the same as he was; but she was glad he was here all the same.

Dinner was a strange affair. The great hall was filled with the Winterfell household and Bran's entourage, while the head table was comprised of Sansa's family and Bran's key advisors. Seeing how uncomfortable Tyrion had looked all day Sansa had seated him between herself and Arya, with Bran, Davos, Brienne, Bronn and Podrick seated opposite them. As Queen she'd led the toast welcoming them to Winterfell, and the feast had begun in force. At least the sounds of merriment from the rest of the great hall covered the awkward silence of the head table. Part of the problem was Bran's side of the table continuously staring at Tyrion as if they were seeing a ghost.

Bran was hardly easy to make conversation with either; he sat observing them all as if seeing their whole lives at a single glance. Nevertheless, she had to try.

"Bran, I heard you stopped at the Neck on your way here?" she said

"I did" said Bran, his gaze turning to her

"How was it?"

"Good. I spoke to Meera" said Bran "The Reeds are still loyal to you"

Sansa nearly choked on her wine. Of all the things to bring up at dinner, he brings up the whispers of rebellion she'd been trying to keep quiet?

"As they should be, they're sworn to house Stark after all" said Arya, shovelling in a mouthful of food

"They are" said Bran "They won't break faith with you, but they're unlikely to aid you either"

"The North is at peace" said Sansa, locking eyes with her brother "I doubt we would need to call on their aid"

Bran stared right back "If you say so"

The rest of the group suddenly became very interested in their food as silence settled over the table once more. Sansa wanted nothing more than to leave this awkward dinner behind and eat with Tyrion in their chambers. Her husband sat silently next to her, dutifully eating his dinner. His quietness since coming North had unsettled her at first, but she'd come to understand it was part of him now. Looking at her guests, they were as confused by the change in a man who'd once laughed and drank so freely as she had once been. His wine was once again untouched – as Bronn noticed.

"Don't reckon I've ever seen you go this long without a drink" said Bronn, leaning back in his chair

"I lost the taste for it" said Tyrion, pushing the food around on his plate

"You lost it and the onion Knight here found it" said Bronn, gesturing to Davos down the table

Ser Davos leaned forwards to shoot a glare at him "A fact I blame firmly on the Master of Coin"

"Don't blame me cause you can't handle being hand"

"It's not that he can't handle being hand, it's that he can't handle you" said Brienne

"They blame me for everything" said Bronn, leaning across to Tyrion "You should come see my castles sometime – I got two now"

"I'm an exile"

Bronn waved his hand dismissively "Yeah, but it's not a real sentence is it"

"Have you no respect for our King's word?" said Brienne, sighing heavily

"Oh come on, he's his brother by law" said Bronn, turning to Bran "You really mean it?"

All the attention turned to Bran, and Sansa could almost feel Tyrion sinking in his seat beside her at the mention of his sentence. Her own heart sank too – she'd asked for him to be sentenced like that.

The King merely stared at Tyrion "The sentence was harsh"

"It was better than I deserved" said Tyrion, dropping his gaze

"You're a good man – you don't deserve to suffer as you have" said Bran

"Many would disagree" said Tyrion

"I regret sending you North Tyrion, and I'm truly sorry for every injustice you've suffered"

Bran's eyes flickered briefly to hers, a flash of panic going through her. He knew what she'd done to Tyrion.

"It's in the past" said Tyrion squirming in his chair

"The past can't be changed" said Bran, tilting his head as he observed her husband "The future can be"

Sansa froze in her seat, a slither of ice trickling down her back.

"I could pardon you. Casterly Rock still has no lord, it could be restored to you" continued Bran "You could leave the North and your suffering behind. Ser Davos is my hand, but you could still join my council"

At Bran's words Sansa's heart pounded furiously in her chest, a thousand thoughts battling for dominance.

No.

Bran was going to take Tyrion away from her.

She couldn't lose him.

Panic bubbled through her followed by the overwhelming urge to grab hold of her husband; as if he would suddenly disappear from beside her. Bran was offering to restore everything she'd taken from Tyrion. He was going to leave. Why wouldn't he want to escape his abuser?

Nausea rolled through Sansa as her chest grew tight. It had all been for nothing - she'd done her best to make amends, but she was going to lose him anyway.

"Thank you Bran, but I'll have to decline" said Tyrion, adding quietly "...this is my home now"

Hesitant green eyes flicked to her, silently checking his words were true. Sansa's world spun as lightness flooded her body. She let out a breath, her heart still thudding in her chest. Not caring for etiquette, she pressed a firm kiss to Tyrion's head, her hand searching for his and rubbing it under the table. A small smile crossed his face at the gesture, and she returned it with one of her own.

Tyrion returned his gaze to Bran "The sentence you gave was just – and more lenient than I deserved. I do not wish to be pardoned for my crimes"

Bronn scoffed "You weren't the one giving the orders to slaughter Kings Landing. Davos is as guilty as you and he's hand of the King"

"Compared to small council meetings with you lot, banishment up North's looking pretty good" said Davos, drinking heavily from his cup

"What of Casterly Rock?" asked Bran "Your ancestral home"

"Give it away, tear it down - do whatever" said Tyrion shrugging half-heartedly "it's not my problem anymore"

Tyrion was obviously uncomfortable with the attention of the table on him and Sansa gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Arya didn't look at all pleased at the turn the conversation had taken either, frowning at Bran across the table.

"Very well" said Bran, still watching Tyrion "I shall have to find a new lord of Casterly Rock"

Mercifully, Brienne sensed a change of topic was needed "Sansa have you had any luck filling seats in the North?"

The conversation treaded back into safer territory, with Sansa explaining the difficulties of finding new families to inherit such vast lands and Davos expressing similar problems. Tyrion fell quiet beside her as the servants cleared dinner, bringing out a wide spread of desserts. She noticed Arya patting his shoulder and whispering in his ear at one point, but the conversation thankfully moved away from Tyrion's sentence. Nonetheless, her gaze kept wandering to her husband. Why would her brother offer him that? Had he really intended to take Tyrion from her?

"Lord Tyrion, I heard you've got a direwolf?" asked Podrick, smiling at him

"Ah, yes – his name's Lyon"

"What's he like?"

She was grateful to Pod for pulling her husband out of his silence and into a light conversation. Of all the guests, it was Bronn and Podrick who knew Tyrion the best. For some reason her husband was reluctant to engage with his former sellsword, but his face lightened as he chatted to Pod about Lyon.

"I'd rather like to meet Lyon" said Bran

Tyrion tensed beside her, a grimace crossing his face "I won't pretend to understand why Lyon chose to stay with me…but I should make you the same offer that I made Sansa and Arya"

A knot of worry wound through Sansa as she realised where Tyrion was heading.

"I'm not a Stark but you are…and you lost your own direwolf" continued Tyrion, as if each word pained him "If you want Lyon…"

Sansa locked her eyes onto Bran, who continued to stare at her husband. It didn't matter what Tyrion offered or what Bran wanted - she would not allow Lyon to be taken from her husband. It was obvious to everyone how much Tyrion loved his little friend; his offer to Bran was clearly out of some misplaced sense of duty.

Bran's face morphed into a smile "That's kind of you - but Lyon is yours. I will not take him from you, nor would he come with me anyway"

Tyrion slumped in relief next to her "Thank you"

"Lyon's very protective of Tyrion" said Arya; eyeing the King warily "Their bond is stronger than anything I've seen"

"They were both the runts of their respective litters" said Bran

"What exactly do you mean?" demanded Sansa, voice turning icy

Dinner was turning into a disaster. Why wouldn't anyone leave Tyrion alone? First Bran tries to take him away, and now he insults him. She could suffer through Bran's vague answers and lack of emotion, but she would not allow anyone to insult Tyrion ever again. The look of shame on his face as he saw himself in the mirror that morning was still fresh in her mind.

"I meant no offence" said Bran, in the monotone voice that grated on her so much

"It's quite alright. I was always treated as the runt by my family" said Tyrion

"I saw where Lyon came from"

Interest sparked in her husband's eyes "I have wondered about that"

"Born in the Wolfswood. He was the smallest and weakest of his litter. His mother and siblings abandoned him when he couldn't keep up with them. They returned beyond the wall without him and Lyon found you"

"Aww poor Lyon" said Arya

Tyrion's face fell in sympathy with his wolf, and Sansa gently rubbed his back "Don't worry my love - he's very happy here with you"

"That must have hurt him though" said her husband

"This is his home now" said Arya, nudging Tyrion "You've seen the snooty looks he gives Sansa - this is definitely his castle"

The conversation moved on with Arya and Davos discussing the rumours of what lay west of Westeros, as the other guests started conversing amongst themselves. Sansa tried to engage with the people around her. Most of them had been friends to her in the past and she was glad to see them, but her little brother made her uncomfortable – there was no denying it. Aside from that, her mind was still reeling from the sudden possibility of losing Tyrion.

Sansa bit her lip - this was going to be a very long visit.

Tyrion was relieved when the door to their chambers came into view. Dinner had been a painful affair, and the constant staring of Bran and his council hadn't helped at all. Why couldn't they just ignore him? He was happy enough sitting quietly at Sansa's side. He'd imagined seeing them might be awkward, but he hadn't anticipated how much. Of them all, there was only Podrick he was genuinely happy to see. No matter what, the young man was unfailingly respectful to him – even when he was no longer required to be.

While he didn't know Brienne overly well, there was a certain awkwardness there. His brother had seemed to care a great deal for the woman; and then dumped her to die with his twin sister. How could that not be awkward? Ser Davos was a good man, though Tyrion was somewhat embarrassed to see him. He'd spoken often and loudly of how Daenerys would be a great Queen. He'd done his best to convince Davos and Jon of that fact – which proved to be wrong. His Queen had slaughtered a city and burnt it to the ground after all. The onion Knight had been present for the selection of Bran as King and Tyrion's sentencing then after – seeing him at one of the lowest points in his life.

Bronn was the most awkward. He'd once considered him a friend – until he pointed the crossbow at him.

'May I speak?'

'Why not? Only death will shut you up'

Now he wasn't speaking and everyone wanted him to.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" asked Tyrion, moving to take his hand from Sansa's and prepare for bed

She'd taken his hand as soon as they left the great hall, holding it tightly as they made their way into their chambers. Sansa didn't answer, but she tightened her grip on him.

Tyrion looked up at his wife, surprised to find her shoulders shaking.

"Sansa, are you alright?" he asked

She dropped her face away from him, nodding her head. It wasn't going to work – she clearly wasn't ok. Tyrion let her keep hold of his good hand, though he moved to stand in front of her; searching for her eyes - only to find tears trickling freely from them down her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked "Are you unwell?"

This was strange. Sansa very rarely cried. Just this morning she'd been comforting him as he pathetically broke down over his twisted body.

"Sansa, please. Talk to me"

The pleading in his voice broke through to her, and she moved her tear-stained face to his gaze.

"Can I hug you?" she asked quietly

"Of course"

Her request puzzled him somewhat but he was hardly going to turn away his distraught wife. Sansa sank to her knees, gently wrapping her arms around him and leaning her head against his. Tyrion tried to reciprocate, winding his good arm around her and lightly rubbing her back.

"I love you" she said, her voice breaking

"Please Sansa, what's troubling you?"

She was quiet for a moment before answering "Bran offered to restore your land and titles – you could have left me"

Tyrion's heart twisted "I don't want to leave you"

"As soon as he said it, I thought I was going to lose you"

"There's nothing left for me there"

Sansa tightened her grip around him, tugging him fiercely against her "You suffered so much because I wanted you here. I took everything from you. I abused you so badly, and then those beasts tortured you – all because I wanted you with me"

"I like being here" said Tyrion, his voice soft "I forgave you for...those things"

"You did sweetheart" said Sansa, a sob building in her throat "but I'll never forgive myself"

"Like Bran said, the past can't be changed"

"It can't – but I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it" said Sansa "I'll never risk losing you again"

"You won't lose me Sansa" said Tyrion, adding nervously "this is home"

"It is" she agreed, turning her head to kiss his cheek "This is home my love – always"

A soft whine sounded as Lyon nudged against the side of him.

"Winterfell is your home too Lyon" said Sansa

He moved his hand from Sansa's back to ruffle the wolf's fur "See Lyon – there's a place for us runts after all"

Sansa seemed in no hurry to let go and Tyrion was happy to let her hold him. It was so rare Sansa allowed him to help her. She always seemed to be the one comforting him – it was nice to return the favour.

The knife spun through the air, landing dead centre of the target.

"You're really very skilled at that" said Brienne

Arya turned to the lord commander, gesturing for her to take aim at her target. The Knight threw her blade with too much power. The knife flew through the air, clipping the top edge of the target before carrying on past.

"An improvement" noted Arya, passing her another knife

The knife throwing continued for a few rounds before Arya asked the question that had bothered her since last night.

"Is Bran always like that now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know Bran's not like he used to be – that he's something else now" said Arya, swallowing thickly "but he was so cold at dinner last night; especially to Sansa"

The older woman's face softened "I don't think Bran's cold – I think the three-eyed raven is a heavy burden though"

"Why would he offer that to Tyrion?" said Arya, curling her hands into fists "Bran must know it would break Sansa's heart if Tyrion left"

"Just Sansa's heart?" asked Brienne, raising an eyebrow as she retrieved their knives

Arya's shoulders slumped "I don't want him to leave either – he's my brother"

"I wouldn't worry" said Brienne "Lord Tyrion was quick to refuse. Apart from that he hardly spoke to any of us. Is he still unwell?"

She shook her head "Tyrion's been like that ever since Kings Landing – he's not who he used to be"

"I don't know Tyrion particularly well – I've met him a couple of times at most; but Jamie always spoke fondly of his brother. Even I can see how different he is now"

Arya took one of the knives Brienne offered; twisting it in her hand "What happened to him in the Wolfswood...it was really bad. He's recovered a lot since then"

"That's good to hear" said Brienne, lining up her knife with the target "Bronn seemed rather put out that his old friend wouldn't engage with him"

Arya shrugged "I don't know what happened there. People are never simple"

"No, a sword is much easier"

A wicked smile curved across Arya's face "Ready for a rematch, lord commander?"

The older woman smiled "I thought you'd never ask"

"My lord, it might be better for someone to check your correspondence until the issue is dealt with. There is no need for you to be exposed to such vile words"

Tyrion shook his head "Thank you Maester, but I'm fine. I will not allow them to bother me"

"We will find them" said Sansa, gripping his hand "I promise"

Another day, another letter from Robin and Gawan. Tyrion was fairly sure it was Gawan actually writing them – the hint of madness behind the words was poorly concealed.

I'm sharpening my knife for you little lion. I'll train you properly this time – removing those pesky bits in your breeches will make you much more docile. You'll feel like a whole new man afterwards...except you won't be a man anymore...

The note was short and taunting. Like the other it had arrived bearing no seal or identifying mark, which made it impossible to distinguish from much of his correspondence. He'd been sat in a meeting room with Sansa and Wolkan when he'd opened it. His wife noticing immediately that something was wrong.

"Are you sure Tyrion? One of us can check your letters first if you like" asked Sansa, her blue eyes studying him with concern

"It's quite alright Sansa" he said, forcing a smile "as you said – we're safe here"

"I won't let them hurt you" she promised

The old Maester seemed to have aged several years since reading the note, his chain resting heavily around his neck.

"As you wish my lord. I will continue my research into the possible origins of these letters. I sincerely hope you receive no more of them"

Tyrion nodded, turning back to his work even as Sansa and Wolkan's eyes continued watching him. He swallowed thickly. He was the lord of Winterfell; they couldn't hurt him here. Their words meant nothing to him.

It was mid-afternoon when Sansa made her way to her brother's chambers. Dinner last night had shaken her badly. So much so, the tears had escaped quickly as soon as her and Tyrion were alone. Guilt had enveloped her for needing his comfort, but having him in her arms had soothed some of her fears - he wasn't going to leave.

After all her weeks of trying to make amends with Tyrion and prove this wasn't his prison, it had warmed her heart to hear him refuse Bran's offer. He'd still seemed a bit uncertain; but he'd said this was home – and to Sansa that meant the world. Even weeks later, the memory of her husband's heart-broken pleading for Jamie to take him home burned clearly in her mind. Never again would she allow him to feel like a guest or prisoner.

A second letter had arrived for Tyrion this morning – its contents more gruesome than the last. As much as he was trying to pretend it didn't bother him, Sansa was certain it did. It terrified her; how could it not scare her husband? Bran was here now, and this time she hoped he might help.

Rapping lightly on the great wooden door to her brother's chambers, Sansa fought the urge to fiddle with her sleeves. Instead she forced her back straight, holding her head high. This was her home and she would not be intimidated by her brother's power.

"Come in Sansa"

She suppressed a shudder as she pushed the door open. Bran was family; not the enemy.

He was sat in his wheelchair near the window, his face thoughtful. She wasn't going to ask how he knew it was her outside the door - part of her didn't want to know.

"Bran" she greeted "Are you satisfied with your chambers?"

"Of course"

"Good" she said "I'm glad to have you home little brother"

A hint of amusement sparked in his eyes "Are you really?"

Sansa didn't bother asking permission as she moved further into the room, pulling a chair out to sit opposite her brother.

"Why wouldn't I be happy to see you?"

"I offered to give Tyrion his home back. I could have taken him away from you"

Sansa's eyes narrowed "This is his home - as he told you"

"Do you love your husband?"

"With all my heart"

Bran smiled, interlocking his fingers.

"I didn't make the offer to hurt you Sansa. Despite what you think, I still love my family"

"You have a funny way of showing it"

His face pulled into a frown "You're angry that I didn't help you find Tyrion. I couldn't; things were too far gone"

"What good is being the three-eyed raven if you can't help your family?"

"I tried to warn you; family, duty, honour. I told Arya when she left Kings Landing you would need reminding"

"Reminding of what?" she said, patience already wearing thin "All you give is cryptic clues"

Bran was frustrating her. He did nothing to help find Tyrion, and as soon as he arrives he tries to steal him away.

"Remind you of who you are" said Bran "I can't see the future, not properly. I get glimpses of things that may or may not happen. I let you take Tyrion because there was a chance he could save you from yourself"

A hundred thoughts swirled through Sansa's mind. It was true. The things she'd done were monstrous; she'd only seen what she was becoming when Tyrion's broken body was brought home. The fear that had run through her at the sight had shattered her walls of ice, revealing her actions for what they were.

"He did save me" she agreed softly

"Tyrion's a good man. He doesn't deserve to suffer anymore"

Sansa straightened in her seat "That's why I came to see you. The ones who hurt him are still out there - in the North somewhere. Can you help us find them?"

"I'm looking at one of them"

She jerked back as though slapped, familiar guilt flooding her.

"I asked you to look after him" continued Bran, dark eyes turning distant "Relax, this will be over soon"

A new wave of horror washed through her, sending ice up her spine. Those were the words she'd spoken to Tyrion…as she raped him.

"I apologised" she stammered "He forgave me"

"I saw glimpses of the future where he didn't"

Her throat grew tight "He didn't forgive me?"

"He was dead before you could apologise" said Bran, staring vacantly at her "Sometimes by Robin and Gawan's hands or sometimes by his own"

Sansa's body fell weak at her brother's words. Could her actions have led Tyrion to such extreme measures that he'd hurt himself? The thought of not getting the chance to apologise and show him her love stabbed at her heart.

Bran blinked as if coming back to himself, shaking his head "Forgive me Sansa, I see too much sometimes. Tyrion did forgive you"

She took a long breath, her voice as cold as winter "I'll protect him no matter what. With or without your help"

Sansa stood to leave, her gown sweeping behind her as she turned away from her brother.

"Wait" he called

Against her better instincts, she looked back at Bran. For a moment his face flashed with uncertainty and she saw the brother she'd lost. It wasn't the three-eyed raven staring back - it was Bran.

"Tyrion's my brother now" he said "If I can find a way to help I will"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she swept from the room. Sansa had doubted Bran would help them, but it had been worth a try. She'd come seeking some kind of council, instead she'd had her deepest shame thrown in her face. The thought of never having the chance to apologise to Tyrion twisted at her heart, but the idea of losing him by his own hand was even worse. Her pulse quickened as she strode down the corridor. It didn't matter if Bran wouldn't help; she would protect their family.

Pod tapped the package against his leg as he wound through the corridors of Winterfell. His throat grew tight recalling his conversation with his King.

"You can leave me Ser Podrick" said Bran, dark eyes observing him

"Yes, your Grace. I'll be outside the door"

"That's not necessary"

"Your Grace, I'm your sworn shield. It's my duty to protect you" Pod had insisted

"Anyone can stand outside my door. Go and find something else to do"

The Kings words had hurt - Pod couldn't deny it. He was honoured to be Bran's sworn shield, but most days he felt quite disposable. Thankfully there were no wars to fight, but his duty mostly consisted of standing outside the Kings chambers - which he rarely left. Brienne was always busy as lord commander, as was Ser Davos. Bronn could be good company, but Pod couldn't forget his duty to Bran and drink with the former sellsword constantly. If Bran didn't need him, it might be nice to enjoy himself for a change.

At least with them coming to Winterfell, he could give lord Tyrion the books he'd tried to send him. It had been shocking to see him so withdrawn yesterday, obviously struggling to move around from his injuries. His former lord had changed drastically since Pod had last seen him. His beard was gone and his hair was far shorter than it usually was – even his face had looked rather gaunt, his old scar bright red once more.

He rounded a corner towards the Queen's chambers when hushed voices drew his attention. Hanging back, Pod noticed Tyrion and Sansa tucked away in a small alcove not far from their rooms.

"...sure there's nothing bothering you?" asked Sansa

"I'm fine Sansa" insisted Tyrion

She deflated "I don't mean to fuss...I'm just worried about you"

Tyrion reached out and grasped her hand "Is this about Bran's offer last night?"

"The thought of losing you terrifies me"

"I may be small but I'm certain you won't lose me"

Pod saw Sansa smile, sinking onto the window ledge as Tyrion stood opposite – her hand in his.

"I really am sorry Tyrion. For asking Bran to sentence you like that...and everything that followed"

"Don't be sad Sansa – I already forgave you for everything"

She brushed her hand through his hair "You're happy here?"

"Very"

"Good" she said "If you're ever not...promise you'll talk to me? Or Arya, or someone"

Tyrion's brow furrowed "Sansa, what's troubling you?"

"It's..." she started, her shoulders slumping "I went to see if Bran could help us find Robin and Gawan. You've seen what Bran's like now. He mentioned...seeing things that could have happened. Like you not forgiving me...dying before I could even..."

She trailed off and Tyrion gently kissed the back of the hand he was holding "At least now we know Bran isn't always right. I'm very much alive and I have forgiven you"

Podrick stood transfixed by the scene. He didn't understand all of what they were talking about, but it was obvious how much they cared for each other and Pod felt a little guilty for hoping Tyrion would come to Kings Landing with them. When he'd refused Bran's offer last night, his heart had plummeted – but it was clear enough Tyrion was happy here.

"I love you" said Sansa, stroking the side of his face "please don't leave me"

"Never"

The Queen leaned forwards and Tyrion met her half way, kissing each other gently. Pod became very aware that he was both lurking and spying. He retreated part of the way down the corridor, hoping to catch Tyrion if he came this way. A few minutes later footsteps echoed down the corridor as their voices grew nearer.

"Sure you don't want to come see Arya with me?"

"No, thank you. I think I'll go to the practice yard for a while"

"Why isn't Lyon with you?"

"He was napping – you know what he's like if you disturb him"

"Are you really ok going on your own? I can take you"

"I won't get lost-"

Tyrion trailed off as they rounded the corner, coming face to face with Podrick.

"Lord Tyrion" he greeted, before remembering who he should have addressed first "Oh, Queen Sansa I.."

"Hello Ser Podrick" she greeted, studying his face "Were you looking for me?"

Pod's face grew red "Oh no, your Grace – I was looking for lord Tyrion"

The lord of Winterfell glanced curiously at him "What can I do for you Ser Podrick?"

"Just Pod is fine – if it please m'lord"

"Very well. Just Tyrion is fine too – since I'm no longer your lord" he said, a faint smile crossing his face

Podrick nodded, hastily shoving out the package he'd carried with him "This is for you. I owe you an apology. When you were a prisoner in Kings Landing I wanted to come see you, but King Bran forbade it. I had no idea where they were keeping you was so bad...or I would have got you out or done something"

Tyrion's eyes widened in surprise as the package was thrust into his arms "What are you...?"

"I wanted to write to you after you were exiled, but it was forbidden. When I heard you'd been hurt in the Wolfswood I tried to send you a letter and some books but the package was intercepted" he said, dropping his head "I'm sorry m'lord"

Both Tyrion and Sansa were staring at him, and Pod felt more awkward by the second.

"What are you apologising for?" asked Tyrion "I was a prisoner – guilty of all crimes"

"Sweetheart, you're not guilty" said Sansa, laying her hands on Tyrion's shoulders

"I am" said Tyrion, gently shaking his head "I made many terrible mistakes"

"You're an honourable man – it wasn't your fault" said Pod, inclining his head "I'm sorry I couldn't help you"

Tyrion's mouth turned upwards "You always were a loyal lad - I have missed you Pod"

"You too, m'lord"

"Tyrion" he corrected, adjusting the package in his hand

The Queen sensed his difficulty holding it and took it from him. She held it while Tyrion tugged the packaging away to see the books he'd brought.

"Thank you Pod" he said, green eyes shining as he looked up at him

The young Knight relaxed somewhat, smiling at his former lord "I'm glad you like them m'lo- Tyrion"

"I can drop these off in our chambers, if you like?" offered Sansa

"If you wouldn't mind" said Tyrion

"I'll leave you in peace" said Pod, nodding his head and turning off down the corridor

He'd only taken a few steps when Tyrion's voice reached him "Wait"

"I'm going the practice yard" he said, shifting awkwardly "If you're not busy, you're welcome to join me"

Podrick turned back, a smile brightening his face "I'd like that very much"

The Queen shot Pod a grateful smile, lightly rubbing her husband's shoulder.

"I'll see you later, my love" she said, turning back towards their chambers

"See you later" said Tyrion, moving stiffly to join Pod "I have to warn you, I'm quite terrible with a sword"

"Ser Brienne says you only get better with practice"

"I'm not sure there's enough practice time in the world. Nevertheless I will continue to try" said Tyrion, limping at his side "I look forward to watching you though"

Pod smiled, slowing his pace to not push Tyrion. Seeing him with Sansa had warmed his heart. Bran had told them Tyrion was badly injured and his mind had often drifted to his former lord these past weeks. He hadn't been happy with Tyrion's sentence, but it was growing more obvious he had found a home here at Winterfell. Thinking of Kings Landing and his role as sworn shield, Pod wasn't sure he had.

"You're mine Sansa, always"

Ramsay's voice was the only thing she could hear – it would be the last thing she would ever hear.

"You've not been a good wife. You're supposed to please me"

He was lying on top of her, his hands pinning her arms to the bed in a crushing grip. He bit at her shoulder sinking his teeth in before moving his attentions lower - always the same painful treatment. He never gave her any pleasure; only pain.

Ramsay continued to squeeze her arms; his smirking face right next to her own. Sansa writhed beneath him, but it was useless – he might as well be made of stone.

"Stop!" she gasped, as he continued biting at her tender flesh

"Naughty Sansa" he tutted, crushing himself against her ribs "You don't know your place"

He pulled her downwards, thrusting himself inside as a scream tore from her throat. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

She was a wolf.

She was going to die being raped by a monster.

Ramsay thrust in and out of her as her vision blurred. He was pinning her beneath the weight of his body, and she was helpless to escape as he continued thrusting into her as hard as he could.

Sansa shot up in bed, tears racing down her face.

"You're ok" called a voice "Sansa, you're safe"

Her chest heaved as she turned to find Tyrion gripping her right arm in an apparent effort to wake her.

"Tyrion?"

Worried green eyes bore into hers "It's alright Sansa, you're safe"

"Oh, Tyrion" she said, choking back a sob

"I'm here" he said, scooting closer to her "What can I do?"

"I..." she started

Gods, why did she have to dream of Ramsay? He was dead – she'd made sure of it. Still the horrors he'd inflicted on her continued to haunt her. Sansa had always dreamed of a husband who could wrap his strong arms around her – holding her tight and safe. The reality had been a nightmare. She'd been helpless to fight back as Ramsay defiled her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She gazed down at Tyrion, still holding her arm. He'd rolled onto his bad side to wake her and his face was etched with concern. Her heart twisted at the sight, inwardly berating herself for worrying him.

"I'm ok" she said, hesitantly lying back against the soft pillows "It was a dream"

"A bad one" he said

Sansa swallowed thickly, her heart still beating too fast. She'd promised herself she would be more open with Tyrion. It was unfair to expect him to share his troubles when she didn't.

"It was Ramsay" she said eventually "A memory"

"I'm sorry Sansa"

"He was gripping me so tightly...while he raped me" she said, staring at the ceiling overhead "I was trapped under him"

One of Ramsay's favourite things was to rape her while finding another way of hurting her. Biting, cutting – he'd tried whatever he could think of. Just the memory of that monster made her feel dirty. Especially when she was in bed with her husband. She'd told Arya some of what Ramsay did to her, and she'd confided in Brienne when she'd been at Winterfell. As much as she wanted to share with Tyrion, part of her wanted to forget all of that had ever happened.

Tyrion's hand rubbed against her arm and she dared a look at his face. Tenderness shone from his green eyes as he gazed at her "I'm so sorry Sansa"

Sansa's eyes burned with tears again. Her sweet, kind husband. The man she loved – the man she'd raped twice. Familiar guilt twisted through her. Tyrion might have forgiven her, but she would never forgive herself. Bran's reminder of her failings hadn't helped either.

"You're safe" he promised "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again"

"I know you won't" she said, offering him a watery smile

Ramsay's cruel voice whispered into her ear 'You're mine'

She didn't want to be Ramsay's; she wanted to be Tyrion's.

"Do you want me to hold you?" he offered quietly

Sansa's heart stuck in her throat. More than anything she wanted her husband's comfort, but the ghost of Ramsay still held her in his grip.

"Thank you" she said, voice wavering "but would you…I mean...could I maybe hold you instead?"

Tyrion tilted his head curiously, and Sansa ploughed ahead, turning from his gaze "Ramsay would overpower me and grip me and...I know you won't do that...but the memory just..."

She trailed off, shame filling her. Her reasoning was pathetic. Any other night she would gladly accept his offer, but the nightmare was lingering in her mind. She knew Tyrion would never hurt her, but a small part of her needed to be in control. One of the many things that made her feel safe with Tyrion was his size. While he was undoubtedly stronger than her, she liked being able to wrap her arms around him.

It had taken a lot for Tyrion to offer her that comfort and she'd thrown it back in his face. She turned to apologise, when she found him pushing himself closer to her - a soft smile on his face "Of course Sansa - I understand"

She gratefully wrapped her arms around Tyrion tugging him into her as she turned on her side. His broken side was pressed against her as she settled her head next to his.

"Thank you" she murmured in his ear "I love you"

"No problem" he said, lightly rubbing his good hand over her arm as she closed her eyes.

She lay like that for a while, trying to force the dark memories from her mind with Tyrion nestled against her. Sansa was half asleep when she felt the faintest brush against her forehead - the motion sending warmth coursing through her.

"I'll protect you" he whispered

Bran flew over Winterfell; his childhood home.

At the moment this was the only part of being the three-eyed raven he truly enjoyed. He'd never walk again - but he could fly. For months the old Gods had limited his abilities in the North, allowing him to see only select things. Since arriving here he'd seen far more than he wanted to.

Sweeping low over the battlements, the raven flew around the castle seeking the Queen's chambers. He perched on the window ledge, noting the faint glow of the hearth lighting the room. He couldn't see much, but the meagre light illuminated two figures entwined with each other on the bed.

Bran's heart twisted. He did love his family - he hadn't meant to upset Sansa.

His offer to Tyrion wasn't to hurt her; it was to ease some of his own guilt. The three-eyed raven had known sending Tyrion North would cause him great pain - he just hadn't realised how much. Offering to restore what was taken seemed a small gesture compared to all that had happened.

The raven was about to fly off when the window thudded, green eyes glaring out at him. Bran flew from his perch, as the golden direwolf continued to glare at him. It was better to go. Lyon had somehow sensed his presence and he didn't want the wolf to wake Tyrion and Sansa.

He flew to the highest point of Winterfell, gazing out across the expanse of the North. Being the three-eyed raven was lonely; so was being King. Bran wanted to help his family; but he had a duty too.

He returned to his own broken body, still sitting in the wheelchair where he'd left it. The King sighed, casting a final look out the window. Too many things were already in motion. The path had been set and nothing could change that - however much he wanted to.