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.

31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The great hall was well and truly packed as Tyrion took his seat on the raised platform in front of Sansa's throne. While he and Sansa usually held court separately to see their own petitioners, today's session would combine both groups as Tyrion covered the Queen's duty. Whenever Sansa's council were at Winterfell she would ask one of the lords or ladies to join her for each court session to offer advice and ideas. It was a clever idea that Sansa had likely learned from her father. Lord Stark was well known for dining with a different banner man each night, and it was a simple way to keep strong relations with other houses. Aside from that, the visiting lord may offer a unique perspective on the issue at hand. Lord Cerwyn was supposed to join Sansa today, and to Tyrion's immense relief the young lord seemed equally happy to join him. While lord Cerwyn lacked the experience that lady Tallhart could have provided had it been her turn, Cley would provide a friendly face if nothing else. Maester Wolkan would be present as he always was to run the Queen's court sessions.

"Aren't you gonna sit on the throne?" asked Nessa, practically bouncing with excitement. While the girl always helped Tyrion run his own court sessions, the news she would be helping him to run the Queen's session had her far more excited than he was.

"I'm quite alright on my usual chair"

Nessa's brow knitted together "The Queen said you could"

Tyrion smiled at her innocence - the girl couldn't fathom why he wouldn't want to sit on the throne, after hearing Sansa tell him he was welcome to.

"Lannisters and thrones don't go together" he said, dropping his voice conspiratorially "besides, it's made for Sansa's long legs; not my short ones"

The girl giggled as Lyon bounced his paws into his lap.

"You can't sit on the throne either" he told his wolf, his ears drooping at the news

"Are you ready my lord?" asked the Maester, moving to stand beside him

Tyrion drew his gaze from the friendly faces around him to the huge number of petitioners waiting to see him. Some he recognised as the small folk who he regularly saw, but there were many strangers in the sea of faces. Some were watching him curiously, while others wore scowls - who was he to represent the Queen in the North?

Tyrion swallowed thickly, the weight of responsibility settling heavily over him. Several guards were posted around the room, including Brice who shot him a grin across the hall. His gaze moved to Cley Cerwyn sat off to the side of the platform. The young lord nodded reassuringly and Tyrion turned his attention to Wolkan once more.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be" he said

Nessa jumped to attention, taking up position over to his left as Lyon sat obediently at his side. Sansa had suggested he wear his sword and it sat awkwardly between his leg and the chair.

'This is for Sansa' he thought, as Wolkan called the hall to order

"Let it be known, Queen Sansa is absent due to important business with King Bran and his council. Her Grace sends her apologies" said Wolkan, his voice carrying through the hall

It wouldn't do for people to think the Queen was unwell; Bran's visit provided an easy and believable excuse. Muttering broke out in the crowd at the announcement and Tyrion could feel the attention of the room burning into him.

"In her absence she asks that those who wished to see her bring their petitions before the lord of Winterfell, who is acting with the Queen's full authority"

The muttering grew louder and Tyrion found himself sinking into his seat as the Maester stepped aside to officially begin the session. He'd asked Arya if she would like to join him, but she'd claimed she'd rather cut her fingers off with a spoon than sit through a long court session. Tyrion had tried to persuade her to no avail.

"What if the petitioners rebel against me?" he'd asked as soon as the door shut behind him and Arya and they made their way down the corridors

"They won't" she'd said

"Having a Stark there would reassure people"

Arya snorted "Reassure them of what?"

"That I'm not the enemy"

"If they haven't figured that out by now there's no hope" said Arya, throwing her arm around his shoulders "You'll be fine big brother. If anyone bothers you give me a list later"

"I wouldn't need to give you a list if you were there"

Arya had flicked him on the forehead, a smirk covering her face "You volunteered to cover Sansa's duty – I didn't. Besides you already owe me enough for tonight"

Arya had a point; he had willingly offered himself up for this task. Both she and Sansa seemed to believe he was capable of doing this, and at one time he might've been – yet all he could think about was disappointing another Queen.

'The next time you fail me, will be the last time you fail me'

Daenaerys words whispered through his mind and for a moment Tyrion swore he could smell burning flesh. The sensation nauseated him but it disappeared as suddenly as it came. It was too late to back out now. He was in position and the first petitioner was coming towards him. The man was a local merchant from the village. Tyrion breathed a little easier; he'd seen him before.

"M'lord" started the man, bowing his head "I run a stall in the village that sells furs and blankets"

Tyrion nodded "Not far from the tavern if I'm not mistaken"

"Aye m'lord" said the man. He was thin and wiry, no more than thirty with scraggy brown hair that fell to his shoulders "took over the business from me father"

"What can I do for you?"

"Some of my stock gets imported from the six kingdoms. Lord Manderly receives it at White Harbour and it gets sent on to me, but now all my deliveries are late or not coming at all. I'm running out of stock m'lord – I have a new babe to feed..."

"How long has this been going on?"

"A few weeks m'lord. Before that everything was simple. I had the same deal me father had with White Harbour"

"Has there been any issues with payments?"

"No, m'lord - I've never missed paying for me goods. They aint given me any reason for it neither"

Tyrion ground his teeth. This was a political move. Lord Manderly kept White Harbour on a strict schedule and there was no reason things shouldn't still be running smoothly. If he was dragging his heels it could only be in support of house Glover. It was subtle, but lord Manderly was attempting to show his power.

Turning his attention to the room at large, Tyrion spotted several other merchants from the local village amongst the crowd.

"Have any other merchants experienced the same issues?" he asked

Immediately several heads bobbed up and down, and Tyrion's blood boiled. Showing solidarity with house Glover until Robin and Gawan were brought to justice was one thing, but whatever political play they were making was damaging the livelihoods of people already struggling to get back on their feet after years of war.

"Step forward if your reason for being here is the same as this man" he said

The small folk who came forwards ranged in age from the young to the very old, both men and women. All looked terrified as they joined the first man – as though expecting their heads to roll. There were twelve merchants in the group. Some he recognised quite easily from the village and they appeared more at ease before him than the ones he didn't recognise.

"At the end of this session you will see Maester Wolkan and he will take a list of what goods have been delayed or not received from White Harbour. Whatever loss of profit you've suffered will be paid back to you in double and charged to house Manderly. If this continues they will be charged triple" he decided

Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Cley and Maester Wolkan nodding approvingly as the small folk before him bowed their thanks.

"Thank you, m'lord" said the first man, sagging in relief "I can feed me family"

Tyrion nodded "This will not be allowed to continue and I will bring the issue to the Queen's attention as well. Be warned that any attempts to manipulate this ruling will be punished accordingly"

"Certainly, lord Tyrion" said an older woman, bowing her head "we only want to keep our business going"

"I shall see that you do"

The court session moved on and Tyrion dealt quickly with several minor issues. As he worked his mind kept returning to White Harbour. Lord Manderly was far more placid than lord Glover but the two had worked closely together while they were at Winterfell and appeared to be working together now. The delays at White Harbour were a power play - a subtle reminder to Sansa that they could cause problems to her reign. Tyrion's stomach stirred uneasily knowing he would have to tell Sansa of this development. He knew how tirelessly she worked for the North, yet these other lords thought they could add more to her burden? Tyrion swallowed down his anger, refocusing on his court session.

A young woman had just stepped forwards at Wolkan's invitation when an older man with greying red hair stormed from the crowd, barging past the woman. Much of his face was taken up by a messy beard, but Tyrion didn't miss the frown he wore.

"What is the meaning of this?" he barked, glaring at the lord of Winterfell

"This is a court session" said Tyrion slowly "the young lady you've just knocked into is about to speak with me"

"I'm a merchant from Barrowton, I don't have time to hear the pleas of small folk!"

The man's clothes were better quality than most merchants, and as Tyrion didn't recall seeing him before it was likely he was one of Sansa's petitioners. While the man was possibly a better off merchant than most - he was still small folk. A fact Tyrion would endeavour to remind him.

"Your petition is more important than the rest of the people here today?"

"Aye, I'm a silversmith"

"Do you have a family to feed? A home to maintain?"

The man nodded "Of course"

"Good. I'm fairly certain the lady you so rudely pushed aside also has people depending on her, and her own concerns which are equally deserving of my attention. Your petition matters as much to me as everyone else's in this room and not an ounce more"

The merchants face pinched in anger "How dare you? I came to see the Queen, not deal with you Lannister"

"Are you hard of hearing? Maester Wolkan explained why Queen Sansa is absent. You can wait your turn and speak to me with respect or you can leave with whatever complaint you have" said Tyrion, narrowing his eyes at the merchant

"You expect me to waste my time to speak to you imp?"

"Careful now" he warned as Lyon's fur bristled at his side "I may be used to insults but they do grow tiresome"

The merchant looked around him for support, only to find he had none. Many of the other petitioners were openly glaring at him while others appeared irritated with the interruption. In all honesty Tyrion had expected more complaints, yet the Northerners didn't appear too put out at seeing him rather than the Queen.

"Hurry up!" called one man, glaring at the merchant

"Aye, we need to speak to lord Tyrion" added another

Faced with the crowd turning on him the arrogance fell from the man's face as he visibly shrank before him. The crowd's reaction had the opposite effect on Tyrion, who straightened in his seat to address the man.

"Are you going to wait like everyone else, or shall I have you escorted out?"

The man's face fell, muttering "Apologies m'lord - I'll wait my turn"

With a half-hearted bow the man shuffled off to join the queue waiting to see him. As he moved to the back of the hall a very old woman leaning on a stick rapped it against the back of the man's legs on his way past her. The merchant stumbled forwards, his face glowing red at the sniggering that broke out in the hall.

Perhaps he could get through this. No-one else in the great hall seemed eager to follow the merchant's example at least. Tyrion nodded to Wolkan who once again beckoned the young woman forwards. When Tyrion arrived for the court session he'd instructed Maester Wolkan to alternate the petitioners, so he would see one of the small folk from his own court followed by one of Sansa's petitioners. While this had initially caused some grumbling from the more prominent merchants it had soon died out as the session moved on.

The young woman standing before him looked nervous with the eyes of the room on her.

Tyrion shot her a smile "What can I do for you?"

---

As soon as Tyrion and Arya left, Sansa got to work.

The Queen may be taking a break from her duties, but Sansa wasn't going to remain idle. Truthfully she'd been relieved when Tyrion offered to cover her duties; there was no way she would be able to focus on ruling until she'd sorted through what she'd seen yesterday.

Settling into her favourite armchair by the hearth Sansa readied her ink and paper on the small table before her. Somewhere in all the pain of the Wolfswood there was a piece of the puzzle – something that would get justice for Tyrion and end the threat hanging over her family.

Sansa was nothing if not organised. First she wrote down the sequence of events as they'd unfolded, until she had a timeline of the Wolfswood before her that started with Tyrion's abduction and ended when Robin and Gawan left him for Grey Worm. Then she compiled a list of every name she'd heard mentioned and any details about the guards she recalled. It was only now Sansa cursed herself for not paying more attention to the guards; but Tyrion had looked so lost and alone – how could she not focus on him?

Untangling the past and analysing it objectively was more difficult than Sansa had anticipated. No matter how hard she tried her thoughts always turned back to Tyrion. He'd truly believed no-one cared for him when he was in the Wolfswood; that they wouldn't want him back.

Until her dying day she would remember holding Tyrion when he was first brought home and woke in her arms as they tended his injuries. His heartbroken pleading for Jamie to take him home would haunt her forever. That Tyrion was badly hurt and clearly not in his right mind didn't matter – in all his pain he'd wanted his brother and not her. To Sansa that had been the moment she realised how badly she'd failed as a wife. Even when he woke properly a few days later he hadn't acted as a man relieved to be safe at home with his family; but as a prisoner in enemy territory. Seeing the Wolfswood for herself had reignited a deep shame for her treatment of Tyrion.

'It's the past' she told herself, pushing the dark thoughts down. Those mistakes would never be repeated and her husband would be left in no doubt of her love or his place in their family. Seeing the memory of him as a child had at least shown Sansa why Tyrion would reach out for his brother as his comfort. Even from the little she'd seen it was easy to imagine Jamie had once been his only comfort. That wasn't true anymore though. Jamie was dead - but she was here. Somehow she'd make sure Tyrion knew he could confide in her.

The Queen returned her focus to the notes before her, searching through the facts for anything that would help bring Robin and Gawan to justice. Whichever way she looked at it Sansa couldn't see anything they didn't already know.

More than once her thoughts drifted to her husband holding court, and she fought the urge to check on him. While she had no doubt he was capable, part of her worried if he needed her. It had only been seven weeks since he was so badly hurt; seeing the Wolfswood herself had burnt the horrors fresh in her mind. Maybe he should take a break. The rational part of Sansa batted the thoughts away but they continued niggling at her mind as she worked.

It was around mid-morning when a knock sounded on the door to her chambers. Sansa rose from her chair, opening the door to find lady Tallhart waiting for her.

"Your Grace" she greeted, inclining her head

"My lady, please join me"

Sansa returned to her armchair with lady Tallhart perching on the chaise beside her.

"I see you've been getting your thoughts in order" noted the older woman, her eyes scanning over the papers spread across the table

"With no results I fear" said Sansa, leaning back in her chair "How much did Arya tell you?"

"Your sister spared few words but I think I understand. King Bran has shown you the Wolfswood, using the powers of the three-eyed raven. From what I understand his powers are similar to greensight?"

"Sort of" said Sansa "I won't pretend to understand it, but somehow I saw the Wolfswood. I watched Robin Flint and Gawan Glover torture my husband - they enjoyed it"

Lady Tallhart nodded "Very well. What are you planning to do?"

A half smile curved over Sansa's face "You make it sound like I already have a plan"

"Of course you do my Queen. You would not have asked me to join you for a sewing circle"

Sansa's smile widened. Seeing the Wolfswood hadn't given her any insight into finding Robin and Gawan, but it had burned away whatever restraint she had left. This had gone on for far too long and she would smoke them out of hiding one way or another.

If Sansa was going to act she wanted as much support as possible behind her. Arya had been sent this morning to tell both lady Tallhart and lord Cerwyn what had transpired yesterday while Tyrion readied himself for court. The young lord Cerwyn had gone with her husband to support him, and Sansa had sent for lady Tallhart to join her. A break from her Queenly duties was well needed to sort through the horror she'd witnessed, but she had no intention of crying in her room all day either.

"I have several ideas" admitted Sansa "but it's your opinion I need. I will not allow those monsters to roam free any longer. We've been on the back foot since the beginning - it's time to strike"

---

It was approaching midday when the butcher came before Tyrion. The man was tall and stocky with jet back hair cut short. His beady eyes were narrowed in anger as he tossed a boy no more than ten years old before Tyrion.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked

"I've caught this lad stealing from my stall twice. The first time I let him go with a warning, but I aint putting up with it no more. You let one away with it the rest of them come too" snapped the butcher

Tyrion's stomach twisted uneasily as he eyed the boy. He had a mess of light brown hair and was watching the lord of Winterfell with tears in his eyes, his shoulders shaking. The boy's clothes were worn and tatty but he had a strong build – he didn't appear undernourished as many of the other children in the villages did.

"What's your name boy?" he asked

The child lifted his head slightly, whispering "Seth, m'lord"

"Did you steal from this man?"

Seth bit his lip, his head nodding forwards "Aye, m'lord"

Nausea rolled through Tyrion at the boy's admission – he knew what the punishment was for thievery.

The butcher leered down at the frightened boy "Be harder to steal with a few less fingers or maybe a hand"

Tyrion had seen thieves being punished at Casterly Rock and the punishment was generally the same throughout Westeros. Taking the black had been the alternative but that wasn't an option anymore. Often most cases of theft weren't brought to a lord's attention however. The parties would either resolve it between themselves or if it was children the local guards would scare them off from repeating the crime. If it was brought to court by the victim or guards then punishment was expected to be carried out, regardless of whether the perpetrator was an adult or child.

The butcher knew this; as did the boy.

Seth had admitted to his crime before a full court and the butcher had clearly brought him here to be fittingly punished. The boy was going to be mutilated on his orders. Tyrion's mind was grasping for any way out of the unpleasant sentence when Lyon stirred to life beside him. The direwolf always joined him for court and sat obediently at his side. Yet now Lyon prowled down the steps eyeing the boy with interest.

Seth wrapped his arms around himself, shaking on the spot as Lyon stared up at him.

"He won't hurt you" called Tyrion, his brow furrowing at his friends strange behaviour

"I ask for justice to be carried m'lord" prompted the butcher, his voice echoing around the room "this boy's admitted to being a thief"

Something wasn't right. The butcher was eager to see the sentence carried out, but Lyon's behaviour was causing Tyrion to pause. As he watched, the golden wolf turned away from Seth, fixing his gaze on the butcher with a growl.

The room stilled at the action and for the briefest moment the butcher's face faltered, giving Tyrion all the reason he needed.

"Seth, why did you steal from this man?" he asked

"He admitted his guilt!" protested the butcher. As soon as the words left his mouth Lyon edged closer as if stalking his prey

"I wasn't asking you"

The boy was trembling like a leaf, his eyes darting between Tyrion and the butcher with fear.

"Are you afraid of him?" asked Tyrion, softening his voice "You needn't fear him here. Tell me the truth boy"

Seth cast one last look at the irate butcher before turning his pleading gaze to Tyrion "My father was a pig farmer m'lord. He used to sell our pigs to the butcher...and he'd get paid in coin and meat"

"Go on" he encouraged, as the butcher's face paled

"My father died last week, and my mother had to sell the last two pigs we had to the butcher 'cept he didn't pay us for them"

Tyrion's hands curled around the arms of his chair as he moved his gaze to the butcher "That's a different story isn't it?"

"Changes nothing! He stole from me"

"What exactly did you take Seth?" asked Tyrion

"I did steal" said the boy, tears running down his face "I took the coins and pig meat we was owed. Father always said stealing was wrong...but the butcher wouldn't pay us. Father's gone; I gotta look after Mother and sisters now"

The butcher jabbed a finger towards Seth "I don't deal with children. If his mother wasn't happy with our deal she should have seen me herself"

"She did and you hit her!" shouted Seth, turning to face the butcher "you said you weren't gonna pay us!"

Tyrion pressed his mouth into a grim line "I've heard quite enough – there is a thief to deal with after all"

Silence fell on the hall as they awaited the sentence. Seth was crying as the butcher's mouth twitched into a smirk.

"Guards, seize the butcher"

"What?" cried the man, all traces of arrogance falling from his face as Brice and another guard took hold of him.

"Maester, remind me of the punishment for theft" said Tyrion

"The price of theft can be fingers or a hand my lord" said Wolkan. Both he and lord Cerwyn were eyeing the butcher with disgust as the man grappled with the guards.

"I'm not a thief" bellowed the butcher as the men forced him to his knees.

The rest of the hall held their breath at the unfolding scene, and Tyrion was acutely aware of all the eyes resting on him.

"You brought this boy here claiming he was a thief when he was taking what was rightfully owed to his family"

"Mercy m'lord..." pleaded the butcher, a desperate fear taking over his face as the guards held him still

Tyrion remained impassive, his voice carrying around the hall "Is the boy telling the truth?"

"Yes" said the butcher, rapidly nodding his head "I'll pay him what he's owed I swear it"

If the man thought a last minute confession would save him, he was badly mistaken.

"You'll pay more than that"

Tyrion rose from his seat, drawing his sword as another guard brought a crate in front of the butcher.

"No, m'lord! Please...I can't be a cripple..." the man begged, his face twisted in fear

"You'd have let the boy be crippled though" said Tyrion, his tone laced with disgust "You'd have let the child be punished for your crime – lying to your lord is a serious offence"

"Quit whining you lying bastard" muttered Brice, pulling the man's left hand out and pinning it to the crate as Tyrion approached

Sweat trickled down Tyrion's neck as he stood before the man. The short sword seemed to carry the weight of the world as he lifted it over the now crying butcher's trapped hand.

Tyrion drew in a deep breath as he brought the sword down in the silent hall and the butcher howled in pain.

Blood was rapidly spreading across the crate as the man fell backwards from the guards, leaving behind three severed fingers.

The man was crying as he examined the mutilated hand, the guards standing either side of him. Tyrion took a moment to observe the blood dripping from his sword before wiping it on the crate and returning it to his place on his hip. He hoped no-one noticed his hands trembling as he resumed his seat on the platform.

Lyon gave a cheerful bark, nudging against Seth who stood frozen in the centre of the room.

"You'd best pet him Seth – he's impossible if he doesn't get his reward" said Tyrion as the guards hauled the shaking butcher to his feet

Seth tentatively brushed his hand through the wolf's fur, his eyes darting between Tyrion and the butcher.

Tyrion turned his attention to the butcher. The man's shoulders were heaving with repressed sobs as he stared at his ruined hand; the blood pouring from the stumps and onto the floor.

"I took three of your fingers" started Tyrion, his voice hardening "One for not paying this boy's family and striking his mother, one for accusing him of being a thief and one for lying to me"

"My hand..." he moaned

Tyrion glanced sideways at Wolkan, signalling for the Maester to attend the man.

"You should consider yourself fortunate I didn't take the whole hand. If I hear you've caused any bother to this boy or his family, or you dare accuse someone of a crime knowing full well you are the one at fault I will take far more from you. Understood?"

"Aye, m'lord" sniffed the butcher

"The Maester will see your injury is properly cared for and then you can go" said Tyrion, waving his hand dismissively

As Wolkan and a guard led the man out of the great hall Tyrion returned his attention to Seth. The boy's hand was absently stroking Lyon but his eyes were locked on the severed fingers sitting on the crate.

Tyrion softened his tone as he addressed the boy "I'm sorry you had to see that. Don't worry – he won't bother you again"

Seth nodded distractedly, biting his lip "Is it my turn m'lord?"

"For what?"

"I'm a thief" he said, glancing tearfully at his hand wound in Lyon's fur

"In this case I believe the butcher was the real thief" said Tyrion "Why didn't you tell me what happened? You admitted to stealing and if not for Lyon you would have been punished for it"

"I did steal – he was right. Father always said it was wrong to steal"

"You only took what was owed you, correct?"

The boy rapidly nodded his head "Yes, m'lord"

Northern honour was a strange thing. In the South Tyrion had no doubt the boy would have been begging his innocence and pleading his case. Yet Seth had been taught stealing was wrong no matter the circumstances and had readily admitted his crime.

Tyrion smiled at him "I'm satisfied justice has been served. You will not be punished Seth"

The boy's eyes flashed with relief, and he hastily bowed his head "Thank you, m'lord. I'll never steal again – I swear it"

"Good to hear. Now tell me of your family. Your mother has sold the last two pigs your family owned, if I understand?"

"Aye, m'lord. After Father died Mother said we couldn't run the farm no more. She sold the last two pigs to the butcher and the farm to another family"

Tyrion's stomach twisted. Years of war and the long night had wiped out many of the working men in the local villages, leaving many families in desperate need of aid. Seth's family had lasted longer than most but now their provider was gone and they were soon to join the families begging for scraps. The problem was likely widespread across the North, and a long term solution was needed. It was something to bring to Sansa's attention for certain, but for now Tyrion focused on helping the boy before him.

"How will your family manage without the pig farm?"

The boy shifted uneasily "Mother's got coin for now"

Seth didn't need to say it, the truth was written all over his face. When the coin ran out they would join the masses in the villages struggling to survive.

"Lord Tyrion!"

The shout drew Tyrion from his musings to the group of merchants waiting at one side of the hall. When the court session ended and Wolkan returned, an inventory of the stock they'd lost at White Harbour would be done. It was an older man who shouted and Tyrion recognised him as the local smith. The man was lean with greying hair, but he walked with confidence as he stepped forwards from the other merchants.

"Pardon m'lord, but if the lad's willing to work I'll take him on"

Tyrion's eyebrows rose "You will?"

"Aye. He looks strong enough to swing a hammer and seems an honest lad. I'll take him as an apprentice if he wants"

To apprentice for a smith was nothing to be sneered at. Weapons were always in demand and the life of a smith generally promised steady, respectable work. The boy's eyes widened at the offer, glancing between Tyrion and the merchant.

"That is a most generous offer" said Tyrion, studying the man

"I lost an apprentice the other week – moved to Torrhen's Square. I didn't bother replacing him cause my materials weren't coming in from White Harbour, but if that's gonna be fixed I could use another pair of hands" said the merchant with a shrug

"What do you think Seth? Do you wish to apprentice as a smith?" asked Tyrion. He disliked the idea of children working, but he'd learned from Nessa that Northern children were raised with that mind-set. If anything it made Tyrion somewhat embarrassed of his privileged upbringing – however devoid of love it was. Given Seth's young age he was keen to let the boy choose himself.

"Yes, m'lord! Thank you" he said, excitement replacing the fear his eyes had held moments before

"Very well" agreed Tyrion, turning to the merchant "I trust you will treat the boy fairly?"

"Aye, m'lord. Never had no complaints from my apprentices"

"That is settled then" decided Tyrion. The merchant bowed and the boy quickly followed his lead before moving off to join the merchant at the side of the room. Lyon's ears drooped as his new friend left him before wandering back to Tyrion's side.

"You did good work Lyon" muttered Tyrion, scratching the direwolf's ear

If not for his friend's intervention the truth might not have been discovered until the sentence had been carried out. As much as he disliked using mutilation as punishment, letting the boy escape justice after pleading guilty would have reflected poorly on his rule as lord and by extension the Queen's justice. Tyrion would have taken a finger from the boy and hated himself for it. As he watched a servant hurriedly cleaning away the severed fingers and blood of the butcher, Tyrion felt no such regret for the man's punishment.

---

"You would support this course of action?" asked Sansa

"Absolutely" agreed lady Tallhart, sipping at her drink "Are you having doubts?"

The Queen pursed her lips considering the question. After reviewing everything they knew and the few courses of action left to them, there really wasn't much choice. Seeing the Wolfswood had ignited a fury in Sansa she hadn't felt since Joffrey and Ramsay. Cruelty for the sake of cruelty was something Sansa had become intimately familiar with since leaving Winterfell all those years ago - it was something she would tolerate no longer.

"No" she said eventually "It's past time this was done. I'll talk to Tyrion and inform the council tomorrow. If we're all in agreement, we will act"

The older woman nodded "It was wise to wait before using this course of action. Capturing Robin and Gawan quickly would have been the ideal solution but the North is full of places to hide and not enough people to search it"

"Taking away their hiding holes should help, but to their supporters it will be seen as a declaration of war" said Sansa, lacing her fingers together "I don't want war in the North"

"There's little appetite for it your Grace" said lady Tallhart, smiling at her "You are an excellent Queen. Whatever claim Robin Flint thinks he has to rule the North is utter nonsense"

"I've made mistakes. Who's to say the Northerners wouldn't prefer him?"

"You fought for the North's independence; you are the Queen we chose. The North is unlike the South – we will not accept the rule of anyone. You get only what you earn in the North and you earned that crown"

A lump formed in Sansa's throat "You are too kind my lady"

"It's the truth" said lady Tallhart, corners of her mouth turning upwards "All monarchs and lords make mistakes, but you've made many excellent choices too. A close relationship with the six Kingdoms is essential no matter how many stubborn Northerners think we could survive without the south, and your trade deal will ensure the North's recovery"

Sansa mulled over the words; there was truth in them she realised. At one of her early council meetings she recalled Robin mentioning how the North should be able to survive without any contact with the six Kingdoms. The older lords had laughed it off as a joke, and Sansa had put it down to lack of experience, but now she wondered if he did truly believe that.

Lady Tallhart continued "May I speak freely, your Grace?"

"Please do"

Where the signs of age could be seen in the lady's greying hair and the lines of her face, her dark eyes maintained a youthful sharpness "One of the best decisions you made was your husband"

"The one decision I'll never regret" she said "I fear it offended many of the Northern lords though"

Lady Tallhart scrunched her nose in distaste "Marriage for the sake of politics rarely works out well, your parents were perhaps an exception"

"I wouldn't have survived another political marriage. After Ramsay...it had to be someone I trusted"

"An excellent choice. Too many lords believe a marriage is merely two people sitting beside each other at dinner, all for the sake of joining their houses. When King Robert came North to ask your father to be hand, the royal party were hosted at Torrhen's square for a night. It was a huge honour of course, a feast was held – and King Robert drank and whored the night away with Cersei watching on. Their marriage was political and it ended in war"

"I once admired Cersei" admitted Sansa "before I saw who she really was. The only thing I pitied her for was her marriage to King Robert. He was my father's friend but he wasn't a good man"

The lady nodded "I thought much the same when I met the heroic King Robert - who led the rebellion and killed Rhaegar. Robert was a soldier and not a King"

"My father was the same; I can see that now. I loved my father, but he couldn't play the game in Kings Landing. It was cruel and dishonest – everything he hated"

"Lord Stark was a great lord of Winterfell, but ruling was never meant for him – Brandon was raised to be lord. Much like lord Glover. His brother ruled Deepwood Motte until the red wedding. Robett Glover was never meant to be lord, nor Gawan the heir" said lady Tallhart, leaning forwards "Many of the Northern lords make a lot of noise and pretend they know what they're talking about – most of them don't"

Sansa smiled, a lightness filling her chest "Thank you. It's easy to forget that when they're all watching me. I was never born for this either"

"Perhaps not, but your time away from the North, however unpleasant, gave you experience. I declared you as my Queen because I believe in you, and that the best interests of the North guide your decisions"

"You don't regret it?"

"Of course not. I knew I'd made the right choice when you chose to marry Tyrion Lannister. Marrying a Northern lord might have strengthened that houses relationship to house Stark, but it would have benefitted them and no-one else. You did not bow to the pressure of marrying one of the green boys your council wanted you to choose either. I have great fondness for young lord Cerwyn but he would not have been able to help you rule"

"The thought of being married to Robin or Gawan now, knowing all they've done..." said Sansa, her heart twisting

"You made the most sensible decision you could. I have great love for the way we do things in the North, but to flourish as an independent Kingdom we need to be clever. Traditional Northern thinking needs to adapt to our new reality. You understand this in a way few others do and your bringing Tyrion here is proof of that – the North needs a man like him in this new world. Lord Tyrion is far more experienced than most lords in the North, he has one of the sharpest minds I've ever met and he is someone you trust"

Sansa smiled thinking of her husband "He is all those things. He's rather handsome too"

Lady Tallhart laughed "That always helps"

"Thank you, my lady" said Sansa, relaxing into her armchair "It's not very dutiful, but it's nice to have a day off"

"You work hard enough" said the older woman "Lord Tyrion is more than capable of running things and giving you a break"

Sansa smiled, allowing some of her stress to slip away though part of her still wished to check on her husband. Tomorrow a meeting would be called and action against Robin and Gawan would begin in earnest. While the purpose of seeing the Wolfswood still eluded Sansa, talking to lady Tallhart had at least put things in perspective.

The situation wasn't as desperate as her mind often feared. The only way to truly slay her fears was to bring justice to her enemies. One way or another justice would be served.

---

Tyrion let his head fall back against the chair as the last petitioner left the great hall. Gods, that had been a long court session. With Bran's visit and the signing of the trade deal there was a back log of people to see both him and Sansa. Combining them all into one session had taken the entire morning and early afternoon.

"That was a long session" he said, rubbing his head

"It was" agreed Maester Wolkan "I'm sure the rest of the petitioners won't mind waiting until after lunch"

His eyes darted to the old Maester sat beside Cley, both watching him with amusement.

"Don't even joke about that!" he groaned "If anyone else wishes to petition today they can make their pleas to Lyon"

The direwolf flopped to the floor, letting out a whine.

Nessa giggled "Even Lyon doesn't want to"

Tyrion turned his attention his squire. The poor girl had been run off her feet all morning, organising the petitioners and generally helping him run the court – all without a word of complaint.

"I owe you a great debt Nessa. You've been a fantastic help to me"

"I like helping you" she said, beaming at him

"That's good to know – I'd be totally lost without you" he said, dropping his voice to a whisper "You may even be better than Ser Podrick Payne"

The girl's eyes lit up at the compliment. Tyrion had introduced Nessa to Pod, but unusually for her the girl was wary of him. It had puzzled him and Pod in equal measure until Arya had shed light on the matter.

"She's probably jealous. You've told her about Pod before haven't you?" Arya had said

"Yes, I have mentioned him"

"She knows he was your squire"

"Of course"

Arya had rolled her eyes "With Pod back at Winterfell she probably thinks he's going to want his old job back"

Tyrion had snorted "He's a Knight and the King's sworn shield. Squiring for a moody dwarf would be quite the come down"

"We know it's not going to happen, but Nessa's a child and she loves you"

Tyrion hadn't been entirely convinced by Arya's theory, but seeing the pride in the girl's face now he suspected she may be right and it warmed his heart.

"I do believe you've earned a rest my dear" he said "Take the afternoon off"

She pouted slightly "There's nothing else to do?"

Tyrion shook his head "I'm quite done with work today. I shall need you tonight though, if you don't mind?"

"Don't worry, I've got everything ready" she said, brightening again "It looks so pretty"

"You think Queen Sansa will like it?"

Nessa nodded enthusiastically "Of course"

"Let's hope so" he said "I will see you tonight then"

"Ok, bye Tyrion! Bye Lyon!"

The girl threw her arms around him for a quick hug, petted Lyon and waved at Wolkan and Cley before skipping out the door. Where she got the energy, Tyrion didn't know.

Turning his attention back to Wolkan and Cley, Tyrion rose from his chair "I owe you both my thanks as well. Covering Sansa's duties would have been far more difficult without you"

The young lord Cerwyn shook his head "You needed no help my lord. Though I did learn a great deal from watching you"

"Lord Cerwyn is correct" agreed the Maester "You had no need of us"

Heat crept up Tyrion's neck at their praise, and he fiddled with the pommel of his sword, dropping his gaze. Many of the issues had been relatively simple to resolve, though Sansa would need to be briefed on the main points that had come up.

"Maester did you take the list from the merchants?"

The old man frowned "Yes, my lord. I'll need to examine it in more detail but from what I've seen White Harbour have been gradually slowing down their deliveries to the local merchants. One woman told me she's gone from five deliveries a week to only receiving one – most troubling"

"There have been a few late deliveries to my own merchants" said Cley, rubbing his chin "I didn't think much of it, but now I wonder if it was deliberate"

"Sansa will need to be told" said Tyrion, mouth turning downwards "It can wait until tomorrow though. She's in need of a break"

Both men nodded their understanding.

"Understood, my lord. I will compile the notes from today's session in preparation for a council meeting tomorrow" said Wolkan, bowing his head

Tyrion nodded "Thank you Maester"

The old man shuffled off, his chain clinking in the distance as Tyrion and Cley headed out of the great hall and into the corridor. Lyon trotted after them, his gaze searching for any servants who may be amenable to giving him attention.

"How are things at Castle Cerwyn?" asked Tyrion as they walked

The young lord looked trimmer than the last time he'd visited Winterfell, though still somewhat portly. His confidence also appeared to have improved. While he was still quiet through most council meetings he did offer his own opinion on matters more readily. The murder of his family by Ramsay Bolton had forced him into the role of lord far earlier than he was prepared for, but it seemed to Tyrion he was growing into it.

"I still don't know what the hell I'm doing half the time" said Cley

"The idea of lordship often seems easier than the reality" agreed Tyrion "I've heard you're a good lord though"

The young man shook his head "I'm fortunate to have people I trust to advise me. I've learnt much from you, and lady Tallhart has been a blessing; I often write to her seeking advice. I always knew I'd be lord one day, but I thought I'd be older - that some of my family would still be alive to guide me"

"What happened to your family was a great crime" said Tyrion, clenching his hands into fists at the thought of Ramsay Bolton "I was never meant to be lord of anything - especially not in the North"

Cley laughed "The more time I spend with you the harder it is to remember you weren't born up here"

Tyrion grinned, running a hand through his hair "You get many golden haired dwarfs up here?"

"You have the Northern temperament though. All the petitioners respected you in court - you had total authority"

Tyrion shook his head as they made their way upstairs "I only have the authority the Queen gives me. However much the people may dislike me, offending the Queen's husband would be unwise"

"You'd be surprised how many people do like you" said Cley, raising an eyebrow "Trust me, if the Northerner's didn't respect you they'd let you know. I've been the heir to castle Cerwyn from the day I was born - it didn't stop my petitioners sniggering about my weakness as a lord the first few months"

Tyrion's brow furrowed "You're a good man - they should be grateful to have you as lord"

"That's kind of you, but it needs to be earned. My father always told me that, but I didn't understand until I was lord" said Cley with a shrug "I was raised a Northerner and I couldn't do what you did today"

His stomach twisted uneasily "You mean the butcher?"

Cley nodded "I've had a couple of thieves punished on my lands, but one of my guards carried the sentence. Doing it yourself…the people will respect that"

"When I came to Winterfell with King Robert, I heard lord Stark talking about a Nights Watch deserter he executed. He said 'the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword' and I always remembered that" said Tyrion "I saw in Kings Landing how easy it was for nobles and rulers to pass a terrible punishment without dirtying their own hands"

The young lord clasped his shoulder "My father would have liked you. He always said Southern lords were so removed from the small folk they'd pass punishments without thinking about the consequences. Not you though - everyone could see the butcher deserved punishment and you delivered it yourself"

"Thank you" said Tyrion, considering his words "I dislike that kind of punishment, but trying to blame the boy was unforgiveable"

Cley smiled "He more than deserved it. Lyon knew something was wrong"

"Yes, he does have a peculiar skill" said Tyrion, glancing around for his wolf "Where's he gone?"

"Over there" said Cley, pointing back down the corridor.

Lyon had apparently found servants suitable for his needs, as two young hand maids were fussing over the wolf - stroking his back and scratching behind his ears. The wolf was practically beaming at the attention, his tail swishing happily.

Lord Cerwyn laughed "Does he do this regularly?"

"Oh yes. Half the castle is wrapped around his paw" said Tyrion "I think he does it to annoy Sansa. He eagerly accepts attention from everyone but the Queen"

---

When a knock sounded on Sansa's door in the early afternoon, she was stunned to find an old woman leaning heavily on a stick waiting for her.

"Are you the Queen in the North?" the woman croaked "I come offering to tell your future"

"How did you...?" she stammered. There were guards at the stairs, how had this woman got up here?

The old woman ignored Sansa's rising panic "I see you Queen in the North. A Queen of ice and fire. At your side I see a husband – golden and short. I see a direwolf too. You will negotiate with the wolf...but be unsuccessful..."

Realisation hit Sansa like a slap to the face, burning her panic away in an instant "Arya!"

The old woman cackled, shuffling into the room as Sansa slammed the door shut behind her.

"That wasn't funny" said Sansa, crossing her arms

A wrinkled face framed with stringy grey hair stared at her with strangers eyes, before straightening up. The woman passed her hand over the face and the strangers face fell away to reveal Arya – her familiar grey eyes sparking with amusement.

"I believe it was very funny"

Sansa's stomach rolled at her sisters skills. As useful as her skills were, it was disturbing. She knew Arya had different faces and had trained with the faceless men but beyond that Sansa wasn't sure she could stomach any of the details. Her sister was still dressed in her old lady's garb, but it was clearly Arya now. The way she transformed in an instant was as impressive as it was unsettling.

"What would you have done if lady Tallhart was still here?" grumbled Sansa, dropping back into her armchair as Arya took up position opposite her

"I would have told her future too"

Sansa rolled her eyes "Why exactly are you going around like that? If you're bored I can find things for you to do"

"It's been a while since I wore a face" said Arya "practice is needed to keep my skills sharp"

"So if I hear tales of a strange old woman telling fortunes in the village I should just assume it was you testing your skills?"

"I didn't go to the village" said Arya "I went to Tyrion's court session"

"Does he know?" asked Sansa

Arya snorted "Of course not. He asked me to go and I told him I wouldn't"

Worry fluttered through Sansa's chest "Why did he ask you to go?"

"He seemed to think the petitioners would rebel against him for covering your duties. I think he wanted support"

"Gods Arya, if he asked for help why would you refuse him?" snapped Sansa. She'd spent weeks convincing Tyrion they would always support him.

"He didn't need any help. If I thought he needed me of course I'd of been there – but he didn't. Maester Wolkan and Cley were with him and they did next to nothing" said Arya, staring reproachfully at her sister "Tyrion doesn't need either of us to hold his hand. He's never going to get his confidence back if we're hovering over him all the time"

There was truth in Arya's words, she supposed. The Wolfswood had left Tyrion utterly helpless and Sansa had latched onto caring for him. His injuries had healed though and he was no longer dependant on Sansa – a fact she was struggling to accept.

"Did court go well?" she asked, twisting her hands in her lap

"Ask him yourself" said Arya. Sansa's face fell and Arya rolled her eyes before relenting "Of course it went well. You'd have been drooling over him looking all lordly"

"That's good" said Sansa, breathing out

Sansa allowed her mind to settle, imagining how impressive Tyrion surely was in court. The conversation with lady Tallhart had been a much needed release for Sansa. While she didn't care if the Northern lords and ladies approved of her choice of husband, it warmed her heart to know Tyrion had won such acceptance.

"He's not going to leave you Sansa. You know that right?"

Arya's voice cut through her wandering thoughts, drawing her back to the watchful grey eyes of her younger sister.

"I know that. This is his home; we're his family"

"If you know that why were you so relieved to see him this morning?"

The Queen's face flushed "I can't be excited to see my husband?"

"You thought he'd left, didn't you?"

"No. Lyon wouldn't stay unless he knew Tyrion was coming back"

"Sansa…"

"I had a nightmare" she mumbled "When I woke up and he wasn't there…I thought he'd gone to accept Bran's offer"

Arya shook her head "What you saw yesterday must have been terrible - but it was the past. A lot has changed since then Sansa. It's taken time but he's happy here. Don't you think so?"

"He is" she admitted "I just…I don't mean to smother him, I just worry. All of this was forced on him"

"He forgave you; you should forgive yourself"

"I know" she groaned, slumping in her chair "Things are so much better between us - I don't want anything to disrupt that"

Arya nodded, the corner of her mouth giving the slightest twitch; as if she knew something Sansa didn't.

"Tyrion doesn't want to leave - you need to trust him"

"I trust him more than anyone"

"Yet as soon as he's out of sight you're afraid he's left"

Sansa swallowed thickly. Arya was right - she couldn't spend her life terrified of her husband leaving her. Nothing Tyrion had said or done had given her any indication he was going to leave. On the contrary, they'd remade their marriage vows yesterday - at Tyrion's idea. Each time they kissed it seemed to grow more passionate, and his eyes held nothing but tenderness for her.

'Everyone you love leaves in the end' whispered Cersei 'better to not love'

It was her fears talking; controlling her actions. Sansa had sworn to not listen to the dangerous voices in her mind anymore. The whispers of her dead mentors had encouraged her to shield herself behind a wall of ice; the catalyst for so many terrible mistakes - they couldn't control her anymore.

Arya was right, she was being irrational.

She loved Tyrion with all her heart - and by some miracle he loved her too.

Sansa bit her lip, dropping her face from her sister's gaze. Part of her knew she was being overly protective of Tyrion, but she feared voicing the dark thought lurking in her mind would somehow give it life.

"What's bothering you Sansa?" asked Arya, her voice far gentler than usual "I'm your sister, you can tell me"

"It's just..." she said, unsure how to phrase it

Arya waited silently for Sansa to get her thoughts in order.

"For weeks Tyrion's needed me. Now that he doesn't, I'm not sure how to be around him" she said the words tumbling out "Taking care of him – it was something I was good at. He doesn't need that now, but I don't know how..."

"You don't know how to be his wife" finished Arya, tilting her head to one side "Sansa you're overthinking this"

"How? Things are so good between us now; I don't want to lose that"

"You think acting more as his wife than his carer will mess that up" said Arya "You love him don't you?"

"Of course I do"

"Well there you go. There's no rule book on being a wife, even though mother and our Septa made it sound like there was" said Arya "Just love him. Do what works for you both. Honestly Sansa no-one gives a shit if you play the perfect wife like you were taught to. Both of you have suffered enough – just enjoy each other"

Sansa pouted "You make it sound easy"

"It is easy. I don't really understand why you're worried about this now – as far as I can see you're both quite happy with each other. The longing glances at each other is quite nauseating"

Silence fell between them and Sansa turned her sister's words through her mind. Tyrion regaining his independence felt like a threat to their relationship, but hearing it out loud made it seem ridiculous. It was true he might not need her help to do everyday tasks but that hadn't stopped them curling up in bed with a book between them or playing cyvasse late into the evening. They often kissed until they were breathless and sought each other's comfort in the night when nightmares plagued them.

The change in her relationship with Tyrion seemed terrifying, but looking back on it their relationship was constantly changing – trust building between them every day. Comparing what they'd built since the Wolfswood to what their marriage was before the difference was undeniable.

A smile spread across Sansa's face "You're right. I don't know why I'm so worried"

"You don't like change" threw out Arya, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world "Understandable after everything that happened since leaving Winterfell - nothing changed for the better. You found a comfort zone with Tyrion and you're afraid of leaving it"

Sansa's mouth hung open "I never thought you could be so insightful"

Her little sister groaned "This is what happens when there's no-one to kill. Rather than using my skills productively I'm trapped in Winterfell watching you and Tyrion dance around each other"

"Don't worry there will be people to kill soon"

"I look forward to it"

Sansa allowed her sister's words to seep into her, pushing the broken, scared Tyrion who'd flinched from her touch from her mind. The haunting image was instead replaced by the hearty, commanding lord with soft green eyes who'd kissed her so tenderly before leaving that morning.

The past would never leave Sansa, but she didn't have to carry it with her constantly – or allow it to influence her decisions. It had taken seven weeks of hard work to build the foundations with Tyrion, and Sansa found herself excited for what they could build in the future. To do that she had to let go of the past, and give herself a second chance.

---

The forest spread before Bran as he lumbered through the trees. Rabbits scurried out of sight as he lurched towards a stream, dropping his head to lap up the water. His fur covered face reflected back at him in the water's ripples while he drank. The bear moved off from the stream in search of food when something tugged at his subconscious.

The three-eyed raven returned to his own body, forever stuck in the wheelchair. He glanced around, wondering what had disturbed him when a knock sounded on the door again.

"Enter" he called

Much to Bran's surprise the door creaked opened to reveal Tyrion. The lord of Winterfell stood awkwardly in the doorway "Am I disturbing you?"

"Certainly not" said Bran, gesturing to a seat across from him

Tyrion hesitated only a moment before closing the door and joining him by the hearth - Lyon trotting in after him.

"Do you mind?" asked Tyrion, glancing at his wolf

"Of course not" said Bran "Hello Lyon"

The golden wolf considered him for a moment before lying down in front of the warm hearth. Lyon had grown a bit since Bran saw him save Tyrion in the Wolfswood, but he was still small for his age - unlikely to reach the size Summer had.

The King turned his attention to his visitor. He'd meant to speak to Tyrion, but hadn't expected the dwarf to come to him.

"How are you?" asked Tyrion

"I'm quite alright" said Bran, shifting in his wheelchair "I'm surprised you came to see me - I was beginning to think you were avoiding me"

"Certainly not" he said quickly "I know you and your council have been hard at work - I've no wish to bother you"

"You wouldn't bother me brother" said Bran "In truth I do very little. Ser Davos handles things"

Tyrion nodded, squirming in his seat. It was obvious enough he'd come for a reason - though he was apparently undecided on how to mention it.

"Ser Bronn won't kidnap you, there's no need to worry" said Bran "Davos and Brienne talked him out of it"

Tyrion stared at him as if trying to work out if it was a joke. He gave a half smile "I should hope not"

"You've no intention of leaving the North?"

"Not unless Sansa orders me away"

Bran smiled sadly "You could have been my hand rather than Ser Davos"

Tyrion shook his head "Certainly not something I deserved. Ser Davos is a good man - he will serve you far better than I ever could"

Bran's eyes wandered over Tyrion. He'd recovered well from the horrors of the Wolfswood. The scar across his face stood out brightly and there was still a limp to his walk but otherwise the signs of his suffering were fading.

"You weren't alone" said Bran

Tyrion looked blankly at him.

"In the Wolfswood" he clarified "I was with you. I'm sorry I couldn't help you Tyrion - the old Gods forbade any interference"

Bran studied his brother as his face morphed into shock and then confusion.

"There was a raven" said Tyrion; his brow furrowed "It was staring at me"

Bran nodded "I didn't come to laugh at you"

The lord of Winterfell flinched at the answer to the question he'd asked the raven all those weeks ago. Bran had long grown used to how unsettling people found his abilities. Unlike Sansa, Tyrion was generally more curious than unnerved however.

"Not a particularly pleasant thing to see" said Tyrion, a shadow passing over his face "though I appreciate your intention"

"You're my brother by marriage; I never wanted you to get hurt" said Bran "I do care for my family - despite what my sisters think"

"Sansa and Arya know that" he said quickly, shifting in his seat "What you showed Sansa yesterday was to help wasn't it?"

Bran smiled humourlessly "It was. The three-eyed raven can only do so much I'm afraid"

It was a painful truth to accept; that he had power which couldn't help his family. The three-eyed raven had only two roles to play in what was to come. Showing Sansa the past was the first, and that had been difficult enough. The next would change everything.

"I won't pretend to understand your powers Bran" said Tyrion, hesitating "I just wanted to ask..."

Bran watched as Tyrion's face tightened, struggling to find the words. Eventually he did, lifting his curious green eyes to meet Bran's gaze "Could I have done it?"

Bran shook his head "I tried to practice with Ser Davos but he has no Northern blood and it wouldn't work"

"Oh" said Tyrion deflating. As if the reminder he wasn't born a Northerner bothered him.

"It couldn't be Arya either" he added "She asked me the same yesterday. The old Gods didn't like what I was doing, but they allowed Sansa to see what she needed to"

Tyrion nodded "Thank you Bran. I just needed to know. If I could have done it and spared Sansa I would have"

Lyon stirred to life, padding over to Tyrion and placing his paws in his lap - as if sensing some inner turmoil in his master. Bran observed the two and their odd relationship. Lyon was bonded as closely to Tyrion as Summer had been to him.

"There's something I'd like to show you" said Bran. He'd played around with the idea since coming North, but he wasn't certain it would work.

"Alright" said Tyrion, glancing around the room "Do you need me to get it for you?"

"Not here" said Bran "Meet me in the Godswood tomorrow. I missed your name day and it's time you had your gift"

"The Godswood?"

Bran nodded, lacing his fingers in his lap "There's something you need to see"

---

Sansa swallowed down the fear clawing at her throat as the wheelhouse trundled along the road.

"Nearly there" said Tyrion, squeezing her hand

She tightened her grip on him, letting his touch soothe the anxieties bubbling in her chest at where they were going.

The Queen had spent the day in her room. First planning with lady Tallhart and then talking with her sister, before trying to relax with some needlework. The afternoon had worn on and she'd forced herself to take a nap even when Tyrion didn't return to their chambers. Despite her earlier resolve to not let her fears control her actions, she'd been near frantic when her chamber door opened in the early evening to reveal Arya and not Tyrion.

"Where is he?" she'd asked, unable to contain her panic

Arya had grinned at her "Waiting for you to get ready"

"For what?"

"I'm not at liberty to say. The lord of Winterfell has asked me to ready his wife though"

Sansa had been thoroughly confused as Arya ordered her into her best clothes and brought in hand maids to deal with her tangled hair.

When she was dressed in a navy gown and her red hair was brushed and hanging loosely around her face, Arya had held up a blindfold.

"What..?" she started

"Tyrion wants to surprise you. He said if you're uncomfortable then I'm not to push you though"

Arya hadn't said anything more, but her eyes had been full of challenge. Sansa was determined to not be led by the past, and Tyrion asked her for nothing. She could do this for him.

Sansa's nerves had been poorly disguised as Arya tied the blindfold around her and led her downstairs. For someone who liked to be in control, the loss of her sight was terrifying. All the way downstairs she reminded herself she was safe. Arya was with her. She was in Winterfell.

It was only when a familiar hand took hold of her own that some of the tension left her.

"You look stunning Sansa" said her husband, his deep voice washing over her as he kissed her hand, clasping it firmly in his own

"Do I get to see my handsome husband?"

"Can you hang on a little longer? I have a surprise"

"Of course" she'd said, tightening her grip on him "I'm in your hands my lord"

Having Tyrion at her side gave her a little more confidence, though her nerves intensified when he led her outside the castle and into a wheelhouse. Arya bid them a good night as the door closed and they bounced along the roads out of Winterfell.

"Are you alright?" he asked

"I'm fine"

"If you're uncomfortable with the blindfold I understand"

"I'm alright sweetheart, just…please don't let go of me"

"Never" he promised

Without the ability to see, Sansa found herself grasping for any other sense to latch onto. Lyon was with them; she'd felt him brush against her leg and heard his puppy bark. Tyrion had spoken briefly with the driver of the wheelhouse; easily recognised as Brice. She heard the voices of a few other guards including the muffled bickering of Lyle and Cayn.

Sansa had left Winterfell only once since becoming Queen and that had been to go riding with Gawan. Fortunately their journey wasn't far and if Sansa had to guess she'd say they were in the village when the wheelhouse finally stopped.

"We're here" said Tyrion, kissing her cheek as the door to the wheelhouse opened and a cold breeze greeted her

True to his word, Tyrion kept his grip on her as she stepped from the wheelhouse carefully guiding her to the ground.

"Nessa, is everything ready?" she heard him say

"It is" came the reply "Do you need anything else?"

"That's quite alright my dear. Thank you for your help. I've asked Cayn to see you home"

"Ok" she said, adding in a whisper "Good luck"

Standing in the street left her feeling oddly exposed despite the numerous guards around them. She should not have hid herself away in Winterfell for so long. The longer she stayed safe behind its walls the harder it was to leave.

A squeeze of her hand brought her back to the present as Tyrion gently tugged her onwards "Just a little further"

The only thing stronger than Sansa's nerves was her curiosity as Tyrion led her indoors and then up a winding stair case. He took care to make sure she wouldn't trip as they climbed until they were back on level ground. A door opened with a creak and a northern breeze batted gently at her face, indicating they were once again outside.

"May I?" he asked, tugging her hand downwards

Sansa bent down enough for Tyrion to untie the blindfold, opening her eyes to the most beautiful scene.

They were stood on a small rooftop terrace with a table and two chairs positioned near a railing that looked out across the village, with Winterfell looming in the distance. Lanterns hung around the frame of the terrace casting a warm glow against the dark night. A fire burned cheerfully to one side keeping the cold at bay. The table was set with a Stark grey cloth, a candle burning in the middle.

"Oh, Tyrion…" she said, frozen to the spot as she took in the scene before her

"I didn't think you'd mind missing dinner at Winterfell for one night" he said, drawing her eyes from the dream like set-up to the man who'd arranged it.

Tyrion was nervously fiddling with the blindfold as she took in his surprise. Sansa drank in the sight of her husband like a woman starved. He was dressed in his finest black tunic, golden lions standing out across the chest and his Valyrian steel sword at his hip. The heavy cloak she'd gifted him for his name day hung around his shoulders, and his golden hair was neatly brushed - though it had little effect on taming it.

"Do you like it?" he asked, green eyes searching her face for any sign of rejection "If you don't…we can go back…"

Sansa swept down pushing her mouth against his for the sweetest of moments.

"It's beautiful" she breathed, dampness creeping into her eyes

Tyrion's face lit up, shooting her a warm smile as he led her to the table.

---

Arya groaned inwardly as dinner lumbered on. It wasn't that she disliked the people she was eating with; it was her strained relationship with Bran that was adding tension to the table. Her brother had shown no remorse for what he put Sansa through yesterday, and very little concern for how she was dealing with it.

Even now the King sat at the table, studying them all as if he could see their whole lives in a single glance. That wasn't what bothered her. She'd long ago accepted Bran had strange powers that defied explanation. Her own skills were unnerving to many - the discomfort in Sansa's face when she took of her old woman face that afternoon had been both amusing and sobering. It was his indifference to their family that really bothered her.

Arya hadn't been happy to learn Bronn hadn't returned either. While she'd heard yesterday he'd stormed off, presumably to a brothel, the news a volatile sellsword was roaming the North hadn't improved her mood.

"Should you not be more concerned that your master of coin has disappeared in another kingdom?" she asked

Bran shrugged "He'll come back"

"He better had" she snapped

"I'm sure Ser Bronn is merely enjoying the beauty of the North" said lady Tallhart

"I fear its charms may well be lost on him m'lady" said Ser Davos, chugging steadily at his wine

Arya had readily agreed to Tyrion's plan and promised to entertain their guests so Sansa could have a night off. The little Lannister had put so much work into it; she hoped Sansa enjoyed it. Going around the village with him yesterday while he made all the arrangements had made it abundantly clear how much he loved Sansa. Every decision had been laboured over, and Arya's opinion had often been sought - all to treat his wife.

While Arya had no doubt at all her sister would love anything Tyrion did for her, Tyrion had been nervous she wouldn't. Particularly when he'd shown Arya the necklace he wanted to give her.

"Do you think she'll like it?" he'd asked, fiddling with his sleeves as she looked at Joanna Lannister's necklace

"She'll love it Tyrion"

"You don't think she'll be offended? It did belong to a Lannister…"

"You're a Lannister" she'd reminded him "Sansa loves you, and I think she'll be thrilled if you give her this. Honestly Tyrion, just because your father and sister were vicious bastards doesn't mean everything a Lannister touches is poison. For what it's worth, I think Sansa's quite proud you're a lion"

"If you're sure"

"Sansa doesn't sew lions on all your clothes for nothing Tyrion"

Hope had simmered in his green eyes "I may not be the knight Sansa dreamed of but she deserves to be treated as a Queen"

Seeing how much thought and effort he put in to make tonight special, Arya knew Tyrion was wrong. He was exactly the man Sansa had dreamed of marrying, even if he didn't necessarily fit her childhood image. She had no doubt her sister would be swept away by the romantic dinner and they'd both be sat staring longingly at each other as they often did.

They needed time to enjoy each other in private, and if that meant Arya had to suffer Bran's vacant staring then so be it. Though as she looked into her brother's dark eyes, she was certain she saw something else there for a moment. Sadness? Regret?

Arya couldn't quite place it, and it was gone as soon as it appeared - but whatever she saw sent a shiver of unease down her back.

---

Everything had gone as well as he could have hoped.

Sansa seemed utterly delighted when she saw the dinner he'd arranged for them, and he hadn't missed the smile that clung to her face as they ate. That was all he wanted – to make Sansa happy. Ever since Bran arrived he'd been thinking of a way to treat Sansa. For weeks her life had been worry over him, the stress of the royal visit and the politics of the North. She bore it all with the grace of a woman born to be Queen, but Tyrion didn't want her to forget herself in the midst of caring for everyone else.

His hand brushed against the pocket of his tunic, checking his gift was still there. Sansa was just finishing desert – lemon cakes he'd miraculously managed to acquire. Before his plan was fully formed he'd known he needed lemon cakes. Fortunately a local merchant had been able to locate some on his behalf and they'd arrived yesterday. While Tyrion didn't particularly care for the sweet treat, his wife loved them; her blue eyes had doubled in size when they were brought out.

"Did you like them?" he asked, as she dabbed her napkin at her mouth

"They were delicious" she said, gazing around the garden terrace "this is all so lovely Tyrion"

"I'm glad you like it"

Sansa smiled at him, her eyes full of warmth "What did I do to deserve all this?"

"You were Sansa Stark – that alone deserves this and so much more" he said, his mouth tugging upwards as she blushed "I may not be your knight in shining armour, but you were always a Queen"

"You're far better than any knight I ever imagined" said Sansa, leaning forwards "You remember I once thought I would marry Ser Loras?"

"Ah, yes – before my father wed you to the imp"

"You're not an imp" she said, reaching out to stroke the side of his face "I had a lucky escape with Ser Loras. We went for a walk once and he was the dullest man I ever met. He barely spared me a glance"

Tyrion snorted "You were lacking his favourite parts dear"

"I know that now" said Sansa, rolling her eyes "to look at he was the perfect Knight but there was nothing behind the pretty face"

"Looks without brains tends to be a standard for many knights"

"That's why I'm so lucky" she said, sighing contentedly "I have a man with both"

The denial was burning on his tongue, but Tyrion bit it down. He might not see himself that way, but if he was good enough for Sansa that had to count for something. She pulled her hand back from his face, her eyes moving to Lyon napping in the corner.

"Is there a reason Lyon had such a huge piece of meat waiting for him?" she asked. The little wolf had his own dinner set in a corner of the terrace – a cooked lump of stag as big as him had been waiting on a plate with a bowl of water.

"Oh, yes. I owed him a debt you see"

Sansa pursed her lips, considering his words "For keeping me in bed this morning?"

"Well yes" he said rubbing his neck "Lyon drove quite a hard bargain. He wanted to eat with us, and I promised him some cooked meat. Apparently he needed a day off from hunting"

Sansa tried and failed to keep a straight face "I can imagine you having that conversation with him"

"That's what he told me" said Tyrion, grinning at Sansa "The price for holding the Queen hostage was a day off from hunting and a meal tonight. Not that he wouldn't have joined us anyway, he just wouldn't have had a large piece of meat cooked for him"

"He earned it" said Sansa, a laugh falling from her lips "No matter how I pleaded he wouldn't move"

A plump, middle aged landlady came to clear the plates, bowing her head to Sansa and then Tyrion.

"Was everything acceptable my lord?" she asked, casting a nervous glance at the Queen from the corner of her eye

"It was wonderful" he said, smiling at her "Thank you very much"

The woman smiled "A pleasure my lord. Shall I fetch the wine?"

"If you would"

The woman returned moments later with a fresh flagon of wine and water for him.

"You're not drinking?" asked Sansa lightly as he poured her a glass

"My wine days are behind me" he said "I do believe I drank enough for ten dwarfs in my time. Does it bother you?"

"Of course not" she said quickly, sipping at her drink "I was just surprised when you came North and stopped drinking"

There was a gentle question behind her words that Tyrion found he didn't mind answering "I spent much of my time drinking; it numbed many things for me. After what happened with Daenerys I wondered if it numbed too much. If I hadn't been drinking so much might I have noticed something was amiss with her?"

"Sweetheart, what happened with her wasn't your fault" she said softly "You saw the good in her, and there was some there; but there was madness in her that couldn't be helped"

Tyrion nodded "We'll never know if my not drinking might have changed things. Though I have no wish to return to my old habits"

"As long as you're happy" said Sansa "As much as I enjoyed your drunken threats to Joffrey at our wedding, you were lucky to leave with your head attached"

Tyrion laughed "That's the downside of not drinking. I no longer have an excuse for outrageous behaviour. If I threaten anyone now they all know I'm not drunk!"

The Queen sipped the wine as they chatted and laughed together, exchanging old gossip from Kings Landing and tales of the people they knew.

"I don't think Margaery was a maiden" said Sansa "When we spoke of bedding, she knew far more than any maiden would. She said her mother taught her and I actually believed her"

"You were adorably innocent" said Tyrion, smiling fondly at her "Lady Margaery knew a great many things, not least how to manipulate men. Her grandmother taught her much of it"

"Undoubtedly. I admired both of them. They could play the game, but they weren't monsters either"

"Yes, their thorns were well hidden but no less prickly for it" he said

It was when Sansa stopped filling her wine glass and the candle had almost burned out Tyrion knew he could delay no longer. Sansa had accepted his surprise with enthusiasm; he only hoped she'd accept his gift too.

"Sansa, there's one more thing I have for you tonight" he said, reaching in his pocket

Her blue eyes were soft and filled with a tenderness he'd come to depend on as she studied him "You've done so much already, my love"

Tyrion shot her a nervous smile as he pulled out the plain black box, passing it to her as if it contained his very heart. Sansa accepted it graciously, her delicate fingers opening the box to reveal the gift inside.

Her face froze as she revealed the necklace, and Tyrion found himself babbling nervously as she studied it.

"You know Brienne brought me that trunk of Jamie's things? The necklace was in there – it was our mothers. When she died most of her jewels went to Cersei though my father kept some himself, and gave Jamie a few pieces to give to his wife when he married. I never got any of course, but I remember Jamie showing me that particular necklace. He was the only one who'd speak to me about my mother"

"Tyrion, it's..." she started, trailing off

Tyrion's heart lurched "Of course I'd understand completely if you didn't want it. After all you suffered at the hands of my family; the last thing you probably want is a Lannister necklace. Jamie said it was mother's favourite necklace, passed down from her mother. The chain was damaged, so I had it replaced – silver always suited you more than Lannister gold…"

"It's beautiful" said Sansa stopping his nervous chatter. Her blue eyes glistened as she moved her gaze from the necklace to him.

All at once his worry melted away, offering his wife a smile "I don't know what my mother would think of me, but everyone spoke so highly of her – I'm certain she'd love you"

"Are you sure you want me to have it? It's your mothers..."

"It's yours" he said firmly "You've made me happier than I ever thought possible Sansa. There's little good in my family, but by all accounts my mother was most of it. I'd be honoured if you'd accept it"

"Thank you" she said, her blue eyes sparkling "Will you help me with it?"

Tyrion eagerly rose from his seat, a lightness filling him that Sansa had accepted his gift. There was so little of his family he could share with her, but as soon as he found the necklace he knew who he wanted to give it to. Sweeping Sansa's hair over one shoulder, he clasped the chain behind her long neck. The golden chain had been worn out and in need of replacement, but the pendant had only needed cleaning. Stepping back around to see Sansa, she smiled proudly at the silver chain hanging around her neck. It was a simple design to have been favoured by a Lannister. The pendant was shaped like a hollow tear drop, with a thin point at the top that widened out at the bottom to hold a blue-green jewel.

"What do you think?" she asked, her tone bubbling with a youthful excitement he rarely heard

"It suits you" he said, cupping her face "my beautiful wife"

---

It was with great relief Arya threw open the door to her chambers. There was only so much small talk she could stand, particularly when Bran kept gazing at her as though in mourning. As soon as she stepped over the threshold of her room she knew someone had been in there.

No sooner had the thought entered her mind did needle slide into her hand. Arya's grey eyes flicked around the room, landing on a battered book left with a note on her bed. Sensing no danger in the room, Arya replaced needle on her hip and lifted the note - the tension leaving her as she recognised the hand writing.

Arya,

A Lannister always pays his debts and I owe you many.

When Ser Brienne gave me the trunk of Jamie's possessions this book was within it. The pages are somewhat damaged and my brother's writing was terrible long before he lost his hand - but this book was his.

Jamie was the squire for Lord Sumner Crakehall, and was later knighted by Ser Arthur Dayne before joining the Kingsguard. He wasn't one for writing or reading or anything that didn't involve a sword really, but this book contains his observations of some of the greatest swordsmen Westeros has seen. I fear his notes on their sword techniques and how they fought in various battles is lost on me - I thought you might enjoy it.

Nevertheless, I thank you for all you do for me. I would not have survived coming North without your kindness.

Please don't kill me for entering your room. I asked Lyon to do it, but he adamantly refused - clever wolf.

Your brother,

Tyrion

A small smile curved over Arya's face as she finished reading the note and she turned her attention to the book. It was a deep red, though the cover was torn and the spine was barely holding it together. Given the destruction of Kings Landing it was a miracle this book had survived at all. Closing the door to her chambers Arya dropped into the chair by the hearth with the book in hand.

Tales of knights and battles had enthralled her as a child as much as they did Bran, and a flicker of excitement went through her at the contents of the book. Whatever dislike she'd once had of Jamie Lannister had long faded. Tyrion's obvious love for his brother and Brienne's respect for him had softened her views towards him somewhat. Her father had often derided him as a man without honour for killing the mad King. Though that had never made great sense to Arya, she'd accepted it with childish ease. The only true crime she held against Jamie was the attack on her father in Kings Landing and the deaths of Jory and the other men. Even that had softened somewhat with time. He attacked her father because her mother took Tyrion. It was revenge, and that was something Arya understood better than most.

Easing open the cover Arya began to read. If nothing else Tyrion's brother had been a great swordsman and known many great Knights - if the book gave her any insight into Ser Jamie Lannister that was a bonus.

Convincing Tyrion there was no shame in being a Lannister was an ongoing struggle, but trusting her with a piece of the brother he'd loved so much was a positive sign. Experience had taught Arya the world wasn't as simple as her parents had taught her. Honour was neither easy nor obvious, as Jon had learned with Daenerys. As she delved into the observations of Jamie Lannister she resolved to keep an open mind.

---

Sansa wasn't sure how, but she was certain she'd died and gone to one of the seven heavens.

Surely that was the only explanation for the wonderful night she'd shared with Tyrion. It had been romantic, intimate - everything she'd once dreamed love could be before experience made her a cynic.

After dinner Tyrion had presented her with his mother's necklace; a gift that meant the world to her. Tyrion had no memories of his mother, or anything of hers to hold on to. When he finally had a piece of the woman he didn't know - he gave it to her. It touched Sansa to know he trusted her enough to share his family with her. The necklace was beautiful and dinner had been lovely - but it was Tyrion that had truly made tonight special. Her witty, charming husband made her happier than she'd ever imagined possible.

Eventually they'd returned to Winterfell and to Sansa's joy the closeness they'd shared all night had continued. They'd changed into their night clothes and settled on the bed, bantering and teasing each other until one of them kissed the other. Sansa couldn't even remember who initiated it now as she brushed her hand through Tyrion's hair.

Whoever started it, their kiss had quickly deepened as they lay pressed against each other. Tyrion was cupping the side of her face while she tangled her hands in his curly hair; his every touch stoking a fire burning deep within her. Whenever they kissed, Sansa made sure to let Tyrion take the lead. After how she'd treated him, it was only right he set the pace - even if her heart ached each time he pulled away.

Tonight her husband seemed as lost in her as she was in him, with no sign of him letting up as his mouth continued to claim hers. Sansa decided to risk a little more contact and moved her hand to trace the lean muscles of his arm through his bed clothes. Tyrion didn't seem to mind, his own hands wandering to her neck and tangling in her hair.

With their bodies pressed so closely together, Sansa was immediately aware of something pressing against her stomach - though it took her a moment to realise what.

If Sansa hadn't figured out what it was, the blush rapidly spreading up Tyrion's neck as he realised would have told her enough. Her husband jerked back from her as soon as he realised his excitement had become noticeable, his green eyes filling with embarrassment as he glanced at the definite bulge in his breeches and back to her face.

"Sansa…I'm sorry" he said, frozen on the bed

"You've no need to be sorry" she said softly, immediately missing his warmth as he pulled away from her

"I…" he said, glancing at his breeches and back to her face

"It's alright" she soothed, reaching out to stroke his cheek "You don't need to hide from me; I'm your wife"

Tyrion's face had turned crimson at his body's betrayal, and to Sansa's disappointment he turned away from her "I…I should take care of this"

On an impulse she grasped his shoulder, stopping him from turning away. Heat crept up her own face as she met his gaze "Tyrion…you can take care of it any way you like"

Sansa didn't want to push Tyrion into doing anything he wasn't ready for, but she needed him to know she was willing to go further if he was. Whether he ever chose to use that option didn't matter – it would always be open.

"You mean…"

She took her hands off him, giving him whatever distance he needed "Whatever you want sweetheart. We can sleep, kiss some more…whatever you need to do. I don't want you to be uncomfortable"

Having laid out her position, Sansa readied herself for Tyrion to choose sleep and likely maintain a sizeable gap between them - as much as the thought pained her. Absently she wondered if this was why he often broke off their kissing and she hadn't noticed his obvious arousal before. Tonight they'd been pressed so closely together it was impossible not to notice.

To her surprise he bit his lip, indecision warring in his eyes.

Sansa smiled, hoping to reassure him. She truly didn't want to pressure Tyrion, but the considerable bulge in his breeches told her his body wasn't necessarily opposed to the idea.

"Would you want to?" he asked, fiddling with his sleeves

"I love you" she said, reaching for his hand and rubbing the back of it "Whatever you're willing to share with me is enough. I meant what I said Tyrion; only if you want to"

Sansa wasn't sure what decided for him in the end, but her heart skipped a beat when he nodded his head and inched closer to her in the bed.

A shy smile covered his face "I...I think I'd like to go further – if you do?"

"I'd like that very much, my love" she said, cupping his face and drawing him into a kiss

To Sansa's joy Tyrion lay down beside her again, though she was confused when he turned on his back - as if readying for her to get on top of him. She pressed her mouth on to his again, her heart picking up pace when he eagerly returned it. Gently she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close as the kiss deepened. Turning onto her back she pulled Tyrion with her, guiding him on top of her instead.

His brow furrowed in confusion, as she brushed her hand through his hair "Sansa, I thought…"

She shook her head "No, my love – I claimed you as mine long ago. I'm yours Tyrion; always"

He dropped his forehead against hers, murmuring softly "I understand if you need to be in control. All the power is on top – I'm willing now. I truly don't mind"

Sansa's heart swelled with love for her husband and she reached up to kiss his cheek. She loved that Tyrion understood her, perhaps better than she understood herself. The need to be in control had haunted her actions for too long though.

"I'm safe with you" she said, a light blush covering her cheeks "I'd like to know what making love really is"

A flicker of doubt crossed Tyrion's eyes for only a moment, before a gentle smile curved over his face "We'll find out together"

Sansa's mind didn't have chance to contemplate his strange words, before desire overtook her. Tyrion was kissing her again, though this time his hands wandered more freely – brushing down her neck and arms. Heat spread through her body, eager for more of something she didn't quite understand. Their kissing was growing more passionate until Tyrion pulled his mouth away from hers. Fear that she'd somehow upset him sparked in her at the action, though it instantly burned away as he began kissing his way down her neck.

"Oh, Tyrion" she said, her body trembling at his attentions.

She let her own hands roam, gripping Tyrion's arms and rubbing his back as he kissed her with such tenderness.

Her husband made his way up and down her neck, moving around by her ear until Sansa was squirming beneath him. While her mind didn't entirely understand her needs, her body did as she ground against him. This was new to her. Ramsay had spent more time hurting her than he had bedding her – presumably raping her grew boring after the first few times. Little by little she could feel Tyrion's loving attentions replacing the cruel, possessive touches she associated with sharing a bed. Her husband's every touch seemed to unleash a wave of new feelings in her.

Why was he only touching her face and neck? His own urge was straining against his breeches – surely he needed to handle that?

In the haze of pleasure Sansa realised he was waiting for her.

Sansa wouldn't force Tyrion to go any further than he was willing, but of course he wouldn't push her either.

It suddenly occurred to Sansa her night shift and his bed clothes were an unwelcome barrier. Hoping it didn't sound as wanton as she imagined, she murmured in his ear "I think I'm overdressed love"

Tyrion pulled back, a grin covering his face "I think we can handle that"

He moved back enough to let Sansa sit up and her hands fumbled to take hold of her night shift. She hesitated for a moment, remembering the scars Ramsay had left her and the pain he'd brought her in the bed. Tyrion sat back watching, his green eyes gazing at her in adoration. That decided for Sansa. She wanted to be his; for his touch and smile to be the things she remembered when she thought of sharing a bed.

Tyrion waited patiently, giving her every opportunity to back out or stop things. Steeling her nerves, Sansa pulled the shift over her head, discarding it to one side. Heat crept up her neck as her husband drank in the sight of her naked body. His eyes widened in wonder, studying her as if she were the maiden in flesh. A thrill went through her at the sight. Tyrion's gaze was full of love and tenderness, none of the possessiveness she'd come to expect from men.

"You're stunning Sansa" he said, his eyes burning into her own with something more than the love she usually found there. The hint of lust she found there set her heart racing.

Ramsay's abuse of her had stripped away the dignity she once clung to; being naked no longer frightened her as it once had – she'd suffered far worse indignities. Still she'd felt a hint of nervousness in disrobing for her husband, a small part of her fearing his disappointment at her used body. Tyrion's reaction had soon stopped the doubt. For the first time she felt as though a man was looking at her and seeing her – not her name or titles or power.

A lightness spread from Sansa's chest throughout her body as her husband raked his eyes over her. She felt no desire to hide from his gaze or embarrassment that she was naked – this was the man she loved and Sansa had never felt safer.

"You truly are a Queen amongst women" he murmured

It was then Sansa noticed the self-consciousness creeping into his face as his hands fidgeted with the blankets. She wouldn't allow that; however long it took she would convince Tyrion how wonderful he was.

She reached forwards, lightly brushing the buttons of his night shirt "Do I get to see my husband?"

"I...you're a beautiful woman Sansa" he said, sadness sweeping over his face "you deserve better than this"

Sansa inched closer to Tyrion who appeared to be frozen to the spot. Settling directly in front of him, she laid her hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing through his bed clothes.

"I love you" she said, staring directly into his eyes "I'll tell you as often as you need to hear it. I don't deserve you Tyrion, my sweet husband – but you are mine and I am yours"

"I'm yours" he said hoarsely, his hands brushing her bare skin with a feather light touch

She leaned her head against his, her hands wandering again to his night shirt "I'd like to see my husband. Can I remove these rather pesky barriers?"

Tyrion smiled tightly, nodding his head forwards as his hands began to roam. Removing Tyrion's clothes took a bit more fumbling than she would have liked, but her husband was distracting himself by lavishing her with kisses that trailed down her neck to the top of her breasts as his hands wandered gently around the curves of her body. He was exploring her as if she were a delicate piece of glass; a fact that both thrilled her and left her hungry for more. By the time she'd removed Tyrion's bed shirt, she was almost too distracted to do his breeches.

"You're distracting me" she groaned as he nipped at her collarbone

"My plan is working?" he said lightly, resuming his attentions

Sansa tried to regain her focus. It would be so easy to let Tyrion lavish her with attention while accepting none himself. Though it pained her, she gently gripped his shoulders pushing him back.

Immediately he stopped, his eyes darting to hers with worry "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?"

"Oh no – what you were doing was...so lovely" she said, sighing in contentment "I thought...maybe I could make you happy too?"

"You already do"

There was a hint of panic in his green eyes, but he didn't resist as she guided him to lie on the bed. It was only with Tyrion treating her so gently did she truly realise how little she knew of love. She knew it didn't have to be painful, but never had she imagined it to be so tender. Her husband's touches had brought her nothing but pleasure so far, and her body was practically begging for more but she wanted Tyrion to enjoy this too. With Tyrion lying topless before her she leaned down next to him, her hands starting at his shoulders and gently moving across his chest, taking in the feel of the muscle he'd earned in the practice yard before trailing across the long scar that covered his torso.

"You've been holding out on me love" she said, kissing the top of his chest and working her way downwards to his breeches "Your sword practice is proving to have many benefits"

A laugh rumbled in his chest as his hands played with her hair "I'm glad you're satisfied wife"

Warmth rushed through Sansa at his words, and she lifted her gaze to his - silently asking his permission to continue. He hesitated only a moment before nodding, and Sansa went to work easing his breeches down. She could feel the nervous energy growing in her husband as she worked, as if subconsciously preparing for some form of rejection - something that would never happen.

The bulge in his breeches sprang free eagerly, and Tyrion gave a muffled groan as her hand accidentally brushed against the tip of his cock. Discarding the breeches to one side, she settled down beside Tyrion in the bed, rubbing her hand across his side and pressing tighter to him.

"You're very handsome" she told him, hoping he could see the sincerity in her eyes "don't feel like you need to hide from me. I love you Tyrion, all of you"

"I love you too" he said, his green eyes shining

Sansa had wanted to make sure Tyrion knew she found him every bit as desirable as he made her feel, but what they'd shared so far had shown Sansa how very little she knew. Letting go of control was for once a comforting thought as she settled back to follow Tyrion's lead.

Her husband's physical urge was impossible to ignore as it pressed against her stomach, and Sansa wasted no time guiding Tyrion on top of her again – letting him know she was both ready and happy for him to continue. To her surprise Tyrion didn't immediately push himself inside her as she'd expected – but went back to working his way down her body from top to bottom. Sansa had no idea what he was waiting for, but she let her hands brush through his hair and explore his body as he gifted her with more pleasure than she'd ever thought possible.

Every caress, every kiss left her body tingling as he moved his attention to her breasts and then travelled lower. Part of Sansa was rather confused about where he could possibly be going as he moved down her stomach, though her mind was lost in a haze of bliss until he went there.

Pleasure flooded her body as she arched her back, her eyes finding Tyrion's head somewhere she never expected it to be.

"Oh, Tyrion..." she moaned, gripping the bed sheets as he continued his work

He lifted his head long enough to shoot her an impish grin before returning his attentions to a place Sansa had never known to hold such pleasure.

"Tyrion!" she begged, practically writhing on the bed

"Yes, dear?" he asked innocently, moving his head from down there only for his fingers to begin exploring

"Gods, please!"

"Please?"

"I need you" she groaned "please!"

Tyrion's smile widened, and he slid his fingers out from her and propped himself above her. His face turned serious for a moment, searching her eyes "Are you certain you want this?"

Sansa reached forwards to touch him, her hands stroking his face "Yes, my love, yes"

His gaze lingered on hers a moment longer before he pulled back to position himself. Sansa was more than ready when he slipped inside her and began moving. Gods, where did he get the control? Sansa felt like a wanton whore as she met his gentle thrusts, hungry for more.

With Tyrion sheathed inside her, his head was once again within reach and Sansa wasted no time running her hands over all of him that she could reach. She brushed her hands through his hair, gripping his arms as he increased his pace. His gaze faltered for only a moment when she brushed the brand on his back, but she quickly turned her attention elsewhere.

"Sansa" he groaned, his eyes moving to her "do you want me to finish?"

In the grip of her own pleasure it took her a moment to realise what he was asking. As naive as she was about love making, she understood his implication. If he finished inside there was the chance of a baby - or he could pull out.

"Whatever you want" she breathed, leaning forward to kiss the top of his head "I love you"

His green eyes flashed with conflict for the briefest moment, but Sansa was lost in the wondrous feelings flooding her body as she found her release – Tyrion's seed spilling in her a moment later.

Sansa panted heavily, a smile drifting across her face as her body climbed down from its climax. Unexpectedly she felt heat pricking at her eyes.

Her husband pulled out, propping himself up over her, the blissful smile on his face quickly morphed to panic as he saw her face "Did I hurt you?"

"Never" she said, her voice thick as she wound her arms around him

Tyrion didn't resist, his hand rubbing her arm soothingly "Are you alright?"

"I'm better than alright sweetheart" she said, offering him a smile "Is it always like that Tyrion?"

His face twisted in sympathy before his mouth turned upwards "It should be. Did you enjoy it?"

"That was beautiful" she breathed.

"Good"

Tyrion pulled away from her, but to her joy he only grabbed the blankets. She tugged at his arms, her eyes pleading for him to stay with her. A grin covered his face as he lay back on top of her, covering them both with the blankets as she wound her arms around him.

"Did you enjoy it?" she asked, nuzzling into his neck

"Very much"

"Tyrion, are you...satisfied? You did so much for me and I did nothing for you"

"I'm more than satisfied" he said, a dreamy smile spread over his face "You've quite exhausted me wife"

Sansa laughed, kissing his cheek "Can we stay like this?"

"I haven't the energy to move" he said, cuddling against her "If I drool too much or you have enough of me, just push me to one side will you?"

"I will never have enough of you Tyrion Lannister"

"That's good to know" he said, yawning sleepily "I've no intention of going anywhere"