A/N: Please forgive any spelling/grammar mistakes-I wrote this so quickly and wanted to put it out as soon as possible! Sorry for the delay! Enjoy~

Something was most certainly wrong with her. As Tyrion rode in the carriage towards the royal wedding he couldn't help but review what he could have possibly done to offend his wife. Sansa had barely spoke one word to him since the breakfast. He glanced towards her and caught her observing him. He tried to send her a small smile, and for a moment she returned it before abruptly turning away from him again. Tyrion sighed dejectedly, but was determined to not push her to speak before she was ready.

His mind battled back and forth, trying to come up with a reason for the iciness. Was it the royal wedding? He knew a young girl like Sansa must have always dreamed of a wedding like this-crowds gathering to shout her name, the sept decorated lavishly, making her way to seal herself to her beloved, handsome betrothed. How disappointed she must have been in her own wedding...in her own bridegroom.

He tried to shake the disappointing thought from his head, but it would always pop up at the worst times. He knew he was not the man that Sansa had always dreamed of, but he held high hopes that perhaps she would be able to look past his stunted figure and his horrible family and perhaps see his worth. One day. He would spend every moment of their marriage trying to convince her otherwise if he had to. He would never let anyone hurt her. He may not look the dashing white knight, but he was more than ready to cherish her and protect her from any danger.

Still, he wondered if seeing the future she had dreamed of as a little girl come to fruition for another laid bitterly on her. He couldn't find it within himself to begrudge her that, so they rode in awkward silence.

The ceremony itself passed without issue, yet Tyrion could not shake the worry from his mind. Sansa was moving like she was in a fog, completely unaware of her surroundings. As Joffrey kissed his lovely bride and the hall erupted in applause, he caught Sansa's dazed, empty expression and couldn't help but reach out to her.

"Sansa?"

Immediately, her face swiveled down to face him and the watery, vacant expression did nothing to alleviate his worries. Still, she gave him a weak smile and joined in to well wishes for Joffrey and Margaery.

"We have a new queen..." The bite in her tone was not lost on him and he now knew he was foolish to think she would ever wish to be in Margaery's place. Not after what Joffrey had put her through. Still, the pageantry was something she might have wanted.

"Better her than you." Margaery seemed the sort that would be able to manipulate Joffrey and the court in a way that his sweet, innocent wife would never be able to do. Her family's cooperation was necessary for peace in the realm and that alone would protect the rose from Joffrey's more violent tendencies. Tyrion knew that it would not quell the king's nature though. Margaery would certainly not have a joyful marriage, but then the ambitious girl probably wouldn't mind a few bruises if it meant she was granted the power the crown would give her. Sweet Sansa was entirely different from the woman who took her place.

She was kind and gentle from her soul. A young woman who wanted nothing more than to be happy with a husband and children who loved her. She was clever and intelligent, there was no question, and he was sure she would have been able to adapt as she was always able to do, but she was far kinder and less ambitious than the new Tyrell queen. Whereas Sansa had been raised to be honest and loving, Margaery had been born and bred to pull strings and manipulate. To achieve all that she had now achieved. As the beautiful woman passed the pair, wedded and crowned, Tyrion sent a prayer to the gods for protecting Sansa from the fate Margaery would dance around for the rest of her days.

They followed the crowd towards the wedding feast, and Tyrion couldn't help but worry for his wife. She still seemed so bothered and weighed down by some unknown plague. He wished she would speak with him, let him know what bothered her so that he could help shoulder her burden. But he knew Sansa by now and knew that pressuring his northern beauty would only make her retreat further from him. He must be patient and allow her to come to him in her own time. No matter how frustrating.

He was almost relieved when halfway finished with the awkward walk back, Jaime called out to him. "I'll be right back" he reassured her and waddled towards his brother.

Jaime had been back in the capital only a week or so, yet Tyrion had already seen a major change in him. The once sparkling, confident, cocky knight had been brought low in his captivity with the Young Wolf and his journey back. The gleaming golden hand that Jaime wielded awkwardly was a daily reminder of what the knight once was...and how far he'd fallen. Although Tyrion sympathized with his brother greatly, he couldn't help but be slightly resentful at the attitude Jamie was exhibiting at the loss. Even without his sword arm, Jaime was still handsome and well-built. Despite not being the same threat he used to be, he still commanded respect from those at court in a way Tyrion never would. Still, as he approached his brother, he shook such thoughts away.

"So the Tyrell rose is now our queen. How long do you think that pretty smile will last?" Jamie asked conversationally as they watched the royal pair continue on their way.

"I'm sure it will be dampened by morning." Tyrion mused, not wanting to think about how Joffrey would treat the girl once they were alone. "But she seems happy enough for the title." The brothers strolled away from the crowds and Tyrion lowered his voice. "And Joffrey needs to at least keep her father happy if we are to keep this alliance. Perhaps it will not be as bad as all that. She seems able to manipulate him so far." As if on cue, Margaery's musical laugh fluttered towards them and they could see her with her arms linked through Joffrey's as they walked together gaily.

"Unlike your own wife?" Tyrion's eyes shot to his brothers at the curious tone.

"What about my wife?" he growled in warning.

"I'm just saying, she doesn't seem capable of manipulating anyone" Jaime's chuckle unnerved him and he did not appreciate the insult.

"Lady Sansa is more intelligent than you think, brother. Need I remind you, she survived Joffrey for months since you left. And she didn't have the protection of her family. Besides, since when have you spoken to her for more than a moment?" for just a flash, he pictured his handsome brother wrapping his arms around Sansa's shoulders, holding her in a way she must crave. In a way she never would be with her present husband. Irritation and jealously surged through him, but he tamped it down. He trust her and he trusted Jaime. Neither would betray him in such a way.

Jaime only barked in good-natured humor. "God's I can't help but offend everyone today! I only meant your wife is too sweet. Too gentle to thrive in this snake pit. I'm sure she's wildly intelligent, Tyrion, but the girl wears her heart on her sleeve!"

Tyrion just stared at him. "What on earth are you talking about? Sansa is as guarded as they come. She's had to be with what she's been dealt."

Jaime only looked thoughtful. "Well when I spoke with her she was quite the open book. I wanted to know how she felt about you and it barely took any teasing before she was practically spitting fire at me for insulting you."

Tyrion raised his eyebrow in both confusion and amusement. "Insulting me, huh?" He knew his brother respected him and refused to let anyone (except their sister) say a bad word. How many times had the golden knight fought for Tyrion's honor? If he was going to insult him, and then be so open about it, there must have been a reason. Still, Sansa reacting so strongly was so out of character.

"Oh stop. I wanted to make sure you didn't have some lying, cheating whore in your bed. Or at least wanted to make sure you knew how she felt. I even offered to take her home..."

At that, Tyrion locked eyes with Jaime surprised. Whenever any lady had shown any interest in Tyrion at all during their childhood, Jamie had always tried to seduce them-if only to expose them for the power-hungry liars that they were. Each lady had fallen immediately for their brother, spouting out the truth-that they had only been interested in the Lannister gold. But while Jaime's seduction had always included whispered promises, none were so direct as an offer to help Sansa escape.

"That was cruel, brother." Tyrion said flatly, trying desperately not to snap at him. "To dangle that in front of her, for any reason. It's cruel even for you."

He had expected Jaime to act chastised, but the look of actual guilt that swept over his features put dread in his heart.

"It wasn't just a ploy...you were really going to take her?" he guessed and at Jaime's glance away from him, fire erupted once more. "You were going to steal my bride. Regardless to how I felt. How I feel. You were going to take her away from me." He seethed.

"I promised her mother...When Catelyn Stark released me it was a deal. In return for her daughters. We've lost the one, she's probably dead. I felt that the least I could do was get Sansa north..."

"North where? Catelyn Stark is dead! Robb Stark is dead! You would have sent my wife to her death, Jaime."

"As she was quick to point out to me. I'm sorry, Tyrion, I truly am, but I thought if this little girl you were tied to hated you, it would be in your best interest to have her shipped away! To send her home and forget her. But how wrong I was. About the both of you."

Despite Tyrion's anger, he couldn't help but be curious of his brother's words. "What do you mean?" he spat.

"That she loves you. And you love her. That she just might deserve you-and I've not thought so of a woman in your life. When she came at me for saying anything negative about you, it was like a she-wolf protecting her pack. She's fearsome and beautiful and clearly in love with you. I had thought to whisk her away, but now I know she does not want to leave. Hells, she practically spat in my face when I offered it. She said you would treat her with honor and respect- something the rest of our family was incapable of. You should have seen the fire in her eyes. It was enough to convince me. Please, forgive me Tyrion. I only want you to be happy. After father and...Cersei. After all the lying whores in this world, you deserve someone who truly loves you. I promise, now that I know she does, I will not try to take her from you."

Tyrion's mind was spinning. It was impossible. A girl like Sansa... a woman like Sansa couldn't possibly think that way about him. He was stunted and broken and ugly. He had satisfied himself with the knowledge that she didn't hate him. That he even liked his company. Jaime must be confused-there is no way that her feelings could possibly go beyond fondness. She was just kind enough and smart enough to not jump at Jaime's offer. There was no way...

Tyrion turned from his brother, closing his eyes to keep the hope from bubbling up inside him. "You're wrong..." he muttered as he stepped away, raising him hands to fend away any argument. He didn't even want to think of the possibility. It would only cause the disappointment to be that much worse when he saw the pity in her eyes if he were to ever ask her. No, they would be friends. Perhaps one day they would start a family together, but love? Love was out of the question. He couldn't dare hope for love.

He stumbled away from his brother, refusing to hear another word. He sought out the woman in question, refusing to let his heart soar at the possibility. He couldn't let himself hope.

He finally caught sight of her back, overlooking the bay and approached, shaking all thoughts from his head and focusing on whatever it had been that was worrying her. It was probably Jaime's offer that was weighing on her mind so heavily. Yet when he called her name and she turned, there was a wildness in her eyes. A wild, untamed fear. They calmed only slightly when seeing him, but anxiety and something indeterminable was still so deeply etched on her face he couldn't help the worry that coursed through him and brought him closer to her. When he was that much closer, she collapsed, her knees giving way and Tyrion gasped, reaching at once to catch her.

Yet when his eyes met hers, he at once recognized what was swirling in them.

Hunger- desperate and all consuming hunger. For him.

And with that last epiphany, her lips locked onto his.