It went about as she thought it would. It began as well as it could have, with Joffrey dealing with various issues within his court. While his punishments were as zealous as ever, Sansa had to admit that his new lord hand, Lord Tywin, brought about a certain sophistication that was lacking before. Sansa remembered the time that every appeal had been met with cruelty. Now it seemed as if, although heavy handed, Joffrey was handling court issues much better. Sansa had originally thought it would be Margaery that would temper him, but it seemed as if all the Tyrell's were absent for the day. Still, for every issue that bored him, he would defer to his grandfather. If it wasn't for the constant threat of rape and beheading, Sansa might be prone to admit that with Tywin's influence, Joffrey wouldn't be the WORST king they had ever had. That and the fact that Lord Tywin had orchestrated the murder of her entire family. At least Joffrey seemed inclined to let others deal with issues he seems ignorant of. However, if there was any form of punishment involved, Sansa could see his eyes gleaming all the way from the balcony.
After a half hour of complaints, Joffrey's gaze finally narrowed in on her. She had actually been surprised that her presence went unnoticed until that moment. As if on cue, Joffrey called forth Lancel Lannister, the man who could have been her husband had she taken up Tyrion on his offer. As she watched the preening blonde peacock step forward and provide a flourished bow, she felt bile rise in her throat at the thought. What a nightmare that would have been. Her fingers tightened around Tyrion's, who squeezed in kind. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for what was to come.
"Sir Lancel," Joffrey purred as his cousin was before him. "I would like you to do me a great favor. It has been a few weeks since the end of the traitorous house Stark. Remind us all of their final moments…" His velvety words were the softest he'd spoken that day, and he sent a catlike grin towards Sansa.
As Lancel launched into his animated reenactment, Sansa felt her eyes water. She forced herself to blink away the tears.
"Focus on something else" Tyrion's words from yesterday rang in her head. "Take yourself away. To somewhere they can't touch you." She steeled herself and opened her eyes, centering her gaze on the spot just over Joffrey's head. Luckily, a few days after Joffrey's attack, she had demanded Tyrion tell her the details of her brother and mother's demise. It had been an emotional evening-wrought with violent outbursts and waterfalls of tears, but now she was overwhelmingly glad to hear it from a friendly source. Now, even as the words washed over her, she remained stoic.
She thought of Winterfell. Of a few warmer days in the summer when she and her siblings had stripped of their heavy furs and gone swimming in the hot springs in the godswood. She allowed her mind to wander, recalling how she had only stuck her feet in at first, ever wanting to be the proper little lady. It would be unseemly to throw herself in as Arya had. Then Robb and Jon had splashed her repeatedly, until she had yelled at them for ruining her hair and dove it to splash them back. It had been a lovely memory-one that didn't overwhelm her in pain. It was becoming easier to reminisce about her family. She and Tyrion had stayed up a few times this past week just recalling some of their favorite memories and although there had been a few tears shed, it was much easier being able to mourn them and speak of them to someone with kind ears. Now, even as their violent demise was being spoken about, she felt a faint smile tugging at her lips at the memory of Robb's carefree smile that day in the pools.
Obviously irritated by the lack of response, the king became more and more frantic. Finally, the boy snapped.
"Sansa! Come here!" He called her like one would a dog, but she had to obey. She shook the pleasant memories she had just been lost in away and moved to step away from her protective friend. She could see Tyrion gritting his teeth and was surprised when her little husband followed her. As the stepped down the steps towards the king she chanced a whisper.
"What are you doing?"
"You're not facing him alone. Never again." He hissed just as desperately. Although worried for what was to come, Sansa couldn't help the warmth that washed over her at his words.
They came to the foot of the steps before the throne and sunk into their bows. As Sansa rose, she glanced towards the queen. Cersei looked pale and more haggard than Sansa had ever seen her. Her eyes were frantically darting between her errant son and her icy father. Seeing the queen look as fearful of her son's actions made Sansa herself worry more as she turned to face the king. Joffrey was looking at Tyrion with annoyance.
"Uncle, I didn't expect you in court, you've been absent for so long. It seems like you and your wife have been avoiding us all." He sneered. "Now why would that be? Do you feel it acceptable that you should be allowed to shirk your duties in my court?" His words may have been directed at Tyrion, but his eyes were for now Sansa alone.
Tyrion gave a practiced, courteous response to the king, but Sansa had tuned out all voices as she met eyes with the monster before her. His green gaze bored into her and she could see the cruelty bubbling behind them. How she longed to be on the ramparts again, when Joffrey had forced her to look upon her father's head rotting on a spike. She would gladly push him at this moment. Would glorify in watching him tumble backwards and fall to the ground below. It would be worth her life to see his blonde hair soak up his blood on the paveme-
Another squeeze of her fingers brought her back to the throne room and she glanced down at her husband, who was looking towards her, concern apparent in his mismatched eyes. She painted a smile on her lips then and glanced back up at the king, who was now glaring at the two of them.
"Yes, forgive us, your grace. This newly married life is new to me, I'm afraid. It has been a challenge to balance with our duties elsewhere, though I will be sure to not neglect my responsibilities again. Forgive me, your graces, my lord" She directed towards the royals and the hand. She swept into an elegant curtsey and heard the approving murmurs from the surrounding courtiers. It was all such a mummers show.
Joffrey looked ready to reject her rehearsed apology, but Lord Tywin stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, stilling his movements. "It is to be expected, my lady." His words may have been forgiving, but his tone was cold and emotionless. His green eyes may have been the same shade as Joffrey's, but they held none of the uncontrollable rage that was constantly threatening to bubble over. No, while Joffrey's were the same as the treacherous wildfire that had engulfed the Blackwater, Tywin's eyes were like frozen chips, always appraising and judging. "However, with the royal wedding on the horizon there will be a number of occasions in which your presence is necessary. I trust that neither of you will be absent again?" He raised his eyebrows at the pair before him and Sansa sent him a winning smile.
"Of course, my lord." she dipped into another shallow curtsy and then turned from the throne. Tyrion followed, though she could see his eyes flash with irritation. Once out of earshot of the courtiers, she sighed in relief. It was over.
"If you don't think you can handle it, we don't have to go to any of those damn family dinners or celebratory receptions" Tyrion gritted out and Sansa pondered over his words. It would be tempting to stay in their rooms unless ordered, but Sansa knew that they had been given as much liberty as they would receive in that regard. So she shook her head and took a deep breath.
"No, no it's alright. It'll be expected of us to be there. You are the king's own uncle. You cannot miss any part of his wedding."
"It's all just a game." Tyrion growled, obviously irritated.
Sansa appraised him for a moment. Even with his short stature and distorted legs, she knew he had a quick mind and was able to withstand all the trials in King's Landing. "If it is a game, then I'm glad you're on my team, my lord."