A/N: A bit of a longer chapter-Enjoy!
The couple made their way towards the crowd and Sansa felt (for the first time) that she might even enjoy the wedding feast. With the whole Tyrell family present, Joffrey was sure to behave and although they were seated on the main dais, they were the farthest they could be from the newlyweds. And Tyrion would be beside her the whole time.
She glanced down at her fingers, tightly intertwined with his as he led her through the gathering courtiers and wedding guests to their seats. She gently squeezed his hand, rewarded with a quick, distracted smile from him, and thought to herself that she would never again face any danger without him. He would save her from Joffrey, save her from Cersei, and save her from King's Landing. After the wedding feast, they would travel to the Rock and she trusted that he would never allow anyone, even Tywin Lannister, to drag her back.
They took their places on the dais as the wedding feast began. Sansa couldn't help but smile pityingly at Margaery, who was making quite the show of an adoring bride. She was beautiful, it was true, with her chestnut hair piled in curls and a thorny crown resting in the nest. Her lovely blue eyes were dancing as she smiled at her bridegroom. Joffrey, with a complementing crown, grinned back at her as they tasted the first dish of many. His eyes were only for her, and for that Sansa was glad. Perhaps Margaery would be able to hold his attention and keep him from his most brutal tendencies. Sansa would never have been able to do it. She didn't have it within her to play him like Margaery did and without a strong, allied family to back her, she never had a chance. However much Sansa may have adored him in the beginning, she had failed at hiding her disgust once she had seen him in truth. She sent a prayer to the mother and the maiden to protect Margaery against the worst of her husband. But Lord Tyrell and Lady Olenna would help her-that much Sansa knew.
As if on cue with her thoughts, the queen of thrones was coming around the table just then, a motherly smile on her face.
"You look exquisite, child!" she exclaimed as she approached taking in Sansa's gown. The plum-colored fabric was fine and lovely, but nothing compared the the bright beauty of Olenna's, not even to say Margaery's wedding gown. But it did well for a member of the royal family, however out of favor they were. "The wind's been at you, though." The old woman's hands reached out to correct her hair and Sansa felt herself blushing, knowing it was not the wind, but Tyrion's hands that had pulled the strands from their perfect styling. She closed her eyes slightly though at Olenna's ministrations. It had been so long since she had felt a mother's hands on her and for just a moment she was transported to Winterfell, with Catelyn Stark's hands running through the copper locks.
"I haven't had the opportunity to tell you how sorry I was to hear about your brother..." Olenna's voice was uncharacteristically low as she rearranged the braids in Sansa's hair. "War is war but...killing a man at a wedding? Horrid." Sansa steeled herself to keep her eyes from watering as she gazed up, thankful for the woman's kind words. It was more than she would get from any other, save her husband. "What sort of monster would do such a thing?" They both studiously kept their eyes from the very man who had ordered the slaughter, not three chairs from them. "As if men need more reason to fear marriage!" she exclaimed, louder this time. "Lord Tyrion!" she called, waving her arms to the crowd and entertainment "You see? Not as bad as all that!" Sansa bit her smile away at the teasing, knowing Tyrion had slaved over the exorbitant price of the festivities before them.
Although Olenna made it seem as if it was a modest affair, the scene before them was anything but. Table after table was set up, hosting the hundreds of wedding guests. Each table was set to the brim of decadent fruits, meats, and wine and above them all were strips of dyed silks, fluttering in the wind. Performers entertained guests in between the tables. Eloquent dancers bent their bodies into twists and men were breathing fire like dragons. It must have all cost a fortune.
"If your pauper husband were to sell his mule and his last pair of shoes, he might be able to afford a trip to Highgarden for a visit!" Tyrion reached past Sansa to pour himself a very full cup of wine and Sansa even let out a small giggle as the woman continued to smooth her hair. Lady Olenna was truly a treat as long as her barbed words were not directed at her. "Now that peace has come and all is right in the world it would do you good to see some... of..." but her words died in her throat and her fingers stilled in a moment. Sansa glanced up at the woman's face, seeing worry in her eyes and a paleness that had not been there moments before. The woman quickly met her eyes and Sansa was surprised to see what looked like anger swirling in them.
"Lady Olenna?" She asked, concerned. "Are you alright?" She reached up a hand to hold Olenna's still resting on Sansa's hair, but the old woman snatched it away, still staring into Sansa's eyes before the look was gone and a weak smile replaced it.
"Yes..." she said quietly. "Yes, yes, all is well. Forgive an old woman..." and she patted Sansa's shoulder half heartedly before she stepped away, glancing towards her granddaughter who was looking on with a look of concern on her face. Margaery's eyes followed Olenna back to her seat before snapping to Sansa's and then Tyrion's. Sansa looked on, dismayed to have possibly offended Lady Olenna. She didn't know quite what she could have done to make the woman's demeanor change so drastically so quickly. Even Tyrion, who had only been paying the conversation half an ear, was looking between the women with a confused look on his face. He gripped Sansa's fingers beneath the table.
"What happened? Are you alright?" He whispered.
"I'm fine..." she assured him. "She just...walked away. Do you think I upset her?"
He squeezed her fingers to calm her and sent her a small smile. "I'm sure it's nothing. Probably just sad to see her beloved rose wed to such a monster..."
As if to prove his point, Joffrey had interrupted a lovely, haunting rendition of The Rains of Castamere by pelting the musicians with a handful of silver stags. He laughed gaily at the flinching and then the rush to collect the hard earned coins. Even Margaery looked on with disgust on her face before replacing it with another of her winning smiles when Joff turned to share his mirth.
Sansa forced a smile and nodded to her husband, vowing to apologize to Lady Olenna at her first opportunity. She filled her own goblet and tried to shake off the sudden coldness that she felt, determined to enjoy the feast as originally planned.
The feast went as well as they could hope. Even with Joffrey acting like an utter bully, Margaery kept up the pretense of the devoted bride, always smiling and making moon eyes at the king. At one point they even stood together, and Joffrey deferred to his new wife to announce that all the leftovers from the feast were to be given to the poor in Flea Bottom. The announcement caused a rippling of applause from the courtiers and a glower from the Queen Regent, though Cersei hid it quickly behind a mask of delight. The pair made a handsome royal couple, it couldn't be denied, but Sansa wondered what they would look like in the morning. She was sure Joffrey would struggle to keep up the appearance of a dashing king when they were all alone or if he would even try to maintain the facade. She gazed at Margaery's beautiful smile and wondered if this would be the last time she would see it.
Thank the gods it was not her.
Sansa sat back, fingers still wrapped around Tyrion's discreetly under the table and tried to relax. She found herself genuinely enjoying herself, tasting just a little of each of the 77 courses that Cersei had demanded. She knew Tyrion had balked at the extravagance, but there was no use fighting it now that it had come to pass. No use mourning coin already spent. So she took a bite of this dish and that, savoring the tastes of everything. She particularly enjoyed a creamy sweet potato soup which reminded her of the hearty fare in Winterfell and the peach tarts sticky with honey. Tyrion's favorite was a spiced, peppery Dornish lamb that had the both of them gulping down their wine to escape the fire in their mouths. He had laughed when she had first taken a bite and had swore she had turned as red as her hair.
Tommen, sitting beside them and all but ignored by his mother, joined in on their fun. The three of them giggled quietly with each other, trying to pinpoint the most extravagantly dressed courtier. Sansa's guess was Lady Tanda, who despite being well within her last few months of her pregnancy, had adopted the new queen's style with a plunging neckline and cut outs on the sides and back. Tyrion was willing to put down a silver stag on Ellaria Sand, Prince Oberyn's paramour, as taking home the prize. Sansa had blushed at the very sight of the mesmerizing woman, all raven black hair, sun-tanned caramel skin, and gleaming dark eyes.
She had all but forgot her earlier uneasiness, when the king stood again.
"Everyone, SILENCE! Clear the floor!" the jovial conversations of the crowd stopped as they all turned to their sovereign lord and servants rushed forward to do his bidding. Sansa felt her smile fade on her face and watched the same happen to Tyrion. Nothing good could come from this.
"There's been too much...amusement here today." Confusion was apparent on everyone's faces, especially Lord Tyrell, who gaped at the complaint. "A royal wedding is not an amusement. A royal wedding is history!" He proclaimed grandly, waving a hand to waiting servants. Sansa, along with the crowd, turned their attention to where the servants were rolling in a gilded lion's head and Sansa felt dread creep up her spine. "And the time has come for us all to contemplate our history..." A lever was pulled and the great lion's mouth fell open with a clatter, causing muted gasps from the crowd. Joffrey, clearly loving the mummery grinned wickedly, his eyes flashing towards Sansa and Tyrion briefly. "My lords...my ladies...I give you...The War of the Five Kings!" from the lion's mouth ran stunted men. One was dressed in a mimicry of Joffrey's own wedding coat and wearing a miniature crown, identical to the one of the king's head. Another in Renly's glorious armour, but instead of a horse, a doll with a curly brown wig sewn in place. Sansa gasped softly, horrified and felt Tyrion's fingers squeeze hers to the point of pain. They both just stared at the jape in front of them in shock.
Sansa watched the men line up, A dwarf version of Joffrey, Renly, Stannis, Balon Greyjoy, and then finally... Sansa felt tears well in her eyes at the sight and at the laughter that rose from the crowd. But the show was far from over.