Sansa sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She had been in Tyrion's chamber for over an hour now, reading aloud from a book about dragons. While she had read from this particular book before and had been fascinated by it, today it just seemed tedious. But to be honest, she wasn't sure if she would rather be doing anything else. She had sent Chella away, wanting to be as alone as possible without really being alone. She glanced over to Tyrion's bandaged face and closed the book gently. The past few days, his silent company was the only she could stomach. Everyone seemed eager to either give her false sympathies or whisper behind her back since Joffrey had denounced their betrothal. She had done a good job of avoiding everyone though, spending most of her time in her chambers, the godswood, or Tyrion's rooms. She had only had to face Tyrion's cutthroat friend and his shy, blushing squire for the most part, but they didn't bother her. To be honest, the worst had been when she Pycelle had slipped into the rooms quietly, unaware of her presence. The maester seemed shocked to see her, awkwardly glancing at her throughout his examination. He had left quickly and Sansa had to wonder if all he was going to do was glance at his patient, what was the purpose of a visit?

She set the book on the small table and stood,brushing out her skirts. She supposed there was time to visit the sept and light a candle for her family and Tyrion before she could send for supper in her rooms. She took Tyrion's limp hand in hers and wished him good health and made for the door. Over the rustling of silk, she made out a small sigh from behind her. She whipped around, stepping back to the bed and searching his covered face, looking for a sign of life. She stood for a moment, watching the man breathe, before figuring she had just heard something that wasn't there. She turned back towards the hall and gently closed the door behind her.

She had barely made it a few feet before fingers wrapped around her wrist, twisting her around and up against the wall roughly. Sansa's breath caught in her throat as she came face to face with the man she had been most desperate to avoid.

"Y-your grace!" she stuttered fearfully, terrified by the cruel grin on his face.

"I feel as if you've been avoiding me, My Lady" Joffrey sneered. "Can you tell me why that is?"

Sansa was breathing hard now, her eyes darted down the empty hallway, looking for any escape. But surprisingly, Joffrey was alone. Sansa didn't know if that was a good sign or bad as she would probably be spared a vicious beating, but she was unsure of what Joffrey wanted from her.

Feeling like a trapped little bird, she searched her mind for the right words. Perhaps she could get out of this unscathed. "No, your grace. I have not meant to be avoiding anyone! It's just..." she forced herself to look down, forlorn, "I...I didn't think you'd want to see me. What would you want with me anymore, now that you have the Lady Margaery. She is so lovely! She'll make a much better queen than I. Your mother and the high septon were right, with my traitorous blood I was unfit-" she babbled desperately but was cut off when Joffrey tightened his grip on her arms to a bruising level.

"The Lady is pretty enough. Not beautiful, like you though" Joffrey's hand moved to her hair, wrapping his fingers through her loose tresses. The touch was almost gentle for a moment before this grip tightened, pulling her hair taught and her head back. Sansa gasped in pain as her scalp screamed and her eyes watered. "But it is no matter, My Lady" Joffrey harshly whispered into her exposed neck as he leaned in closer- one hand still holding her up against the wall and the other still wrapped in her hair. "A king can have any woman he wants. Whether they wish it or not. My father had many women besides my mother. Lady Margaery will not come between us. You can still have a king inside you."

Gods, Lord Baelish was right, she was such and idiot thinking that Joffrey would let her go. As his wet lips made contact with her neck, her eyes betrayed her by allowing a tear to slip down her cheek. She wouldn't be surprised if he took her right there in the hallway. There was no one to stop him. They were all alone in a secluded part of the keep. No one would come and help her.

So when a door a few feet away from them slammed open, they both jumped. Joffrey even took a step away from her, dropping his hands from her skin. Sansa gasped again when she saw who had surprised them. Tyrion, leaning heavily on the chair that she had just been sitting in, had clearly dragged his way out of bed and into the hall. Although one eye was still covered haphazardly with bandages, the other was glaring fiercely at the king, who looked abashed.

"Lord Tyrion!"

"Uncle!"

The two spoke in tandem at their surprise.

"Ah dearest nephew," Tyrion practically spat, still looking murderous. "I thought I heard your voice. I couldn't help but come and pay my respects. I see you have conquered your enemies in the battlefield." Sansa's gaze darted between the two Lannisters, from Tyrion's heated glare to Joffrey's ashamed, reddening face. "Run along now, nephew. Run and tell your grandfather I've awaken."

Joffrey looked as if he wanted to argue, before giving in, glaring at his uncle and Sansa. As he stomped down the hall, Sansa could only stare incredulously at the dwarf before her. As soon as the king turned the corner, Tyrion collapsed onto the chair, breathing heavily. Sansa rushed forward, concerned.

"Lord Tyrion? Are you okay?"

"Please, my lady, if you would please help me back to my bed. I don't think I did myself any favors moving so quickly after...this" he guestured towards his bandaged body. Sansa immediately moved to support him as he limped back into his room. "But I heard your voices. I couldn't stand sitting there while you were tormented again."

"I don't understand, my lord. When did you wake?"

"I've been able to hear things since what I assume was this morning. Although I couldn't move, I must thank you for reading so kindly to me. It certainly made being aware, but unable to move much more bearable." Sansa helped him back into the bed, and watched as he clutched the bandage on his torso. "It was only when I heard him in the hallway that I found the strength to move. But I fear I've reopened this cut on my chest." his hand came away bloodied and Sansa felt herself pale.

Sansa moved quickly towards the door. "I will bring the maester right away!" As the hastened to open the door, she hesitated just a moment, turning back to see Tyrion again. "I see I am once again in your debt, my lord. It seems as if you're always right there when I need help. I am so thankful that the Gods answered my prayers." Tyrion looked at her in wonder before she closed the door and rushed towards help.