Tyrion had not planned on spending the battle in the crypts despite what Daenerys had told him. He had been patronized enough due to his stature, even if it was done with the best of intentions, to recognize it for what it was. Her Grace didn't need him. Even if by some miracle they did survive, she could take King's Landing without him. Between Varys, Jon, and hells, even Sansa, they'd be fine and defeat his bitch of a sister.
And he'd be damned if he dies cowering in a tomb. He was no stranger to battle and planned to be at Jaime's (right) side until the end. Not that he told Jaime this for fear of being drugged and chained to some Stark tomb by his overprotective elder brother.
He'd join Jaime, but only after he knew Sansa was safe. Like a beacon in a storm, his eyes were drawn to her as she said a tearful goodbye to both Bran and Theon who headed for the Gods' woods. She climbed the walls to Arya's position, and he felt the hair rise on the back of his neck as the minutes crept by where she did not return. Worried, he followed her and found her arguing with Arya.
"Get down to the crypts." Arya said sternly.
"I'm not abandoning my people!" Sansa protested loudly, but Tyrion could hear the fear in her voice.
"I can't worry about you and the dead Sansa. Go." Arya spotted Tyrion then. "Lord Tyrion will escort you." She thrust a dragonglass dagger in Sansa's hand. "Stick anything without a pulse with the pointy end."
"She's right." Tyrion said, realizing at Arya's words how selfish and somewhat egotistical his desire to fight by his brother's side was. "We are not warriors Sansa. Those we love can't protect us and themselves. We are nothing but a liability and a distraction and that's the bitter truth."
He grabbed her hand and pleaded with her "And you're not abandoning your people as a good portion of them are heading for the crypt. They need you to lead them."
She squeezed his hand and gave a curt nod of acquiescence. "Very well." she said in a trembling voice. "At least this time I'll have my favorite Lannister to keep me company during battle rather than your horrid, drunk sister."
"My Lady, that almost sounded like a compliment!"
"What can I say? You are the best of them." she said sincerely with a hint of a sad smile.
A thick knot formed in Tyrion's throat at her words and he found himself too overcome with emotion to form a witty retort. Instead he just gave her an incredulous look, but held her hand tightly all the way to the crypt. He never wanted to let it go. But should they survive this night, he knew he would have to.
Her soulmate was out there somewhere.
Lucky bastard.
Tyrion guided her to the crypts. Even though this was her home, a panic gripped her and she wasn't sure she would have made it without him. But somehow his hand in hers kept the fear from overwhelming her. She took one last look at the brave men and women in the courtyard and on the walls. Death was coming to take all of them. How many would survive? Would any of them?
With a loud bang, the doors to the crypt were barred and sealed shut. She glanced down at Tyrion in the gloom. Most likely they would all die that night but she knew she wasn't alone. Tyrion was by her side.
The thought gave her far more comfort than she expected. She stopped suddenly before they could join the others because she wanted, no needed, him to understand what she had said earlier. "When I said you are the best of them, I didn't just mean Lannisters. I meant all of them. Every man not of my blood that I've met, past or present, I've compared to you and they've all fallen short."
He laughed at that, a deep sound that resonated through her body down to her toes making them curl. "Was that a dwarf joke, my Lady?"
She chuckled which felt odd to her under the circumstances. "It wasn't meant to be, but I liked hearing you laugh." She didn't add "probably for the last time" but they both understood the implications. "But I did mean what I said."
The torchlight caused his eyes to glisten for a second. "What a terrifying thought." He mumbled before turning his head but she swore she saw a blush creeping out from under his beard. "I must introduce you to a better quality of men."
"If we get out of this alive, I may hold you to that." Sansa said, melancholy lacing her tone.
"I've grown tired of waiting for a soulmate that I don't believe exists. I want a marriage, and children if the gods are willing. Or maybe I've been thinking about this all wrong. What if soulmates aren't found but they're made? Like my parents." She paused smiling down at him "I could think of no one I trust more than you to find me a suitable match. Bran might be slightly helpful with his greensight, but Jon would be clueless." she said truthfully.
The sparkle in his eyes dimmed during her speech. She was afraid she had overstepped the bounds of their friendship and was about to apologize when he took both her hands in his. He looked up at her almost shyly but underneath it was a smoldering intensity. "Or" he said almost choking on the word, "You could stay married to me."
The literal spectre of death at the gates is the only reason Tyrion could figure he was able to muster up the words to say something so foolish or brave (or foolishly brave). He scarcely believed the words that came out of his mouth, even if his heart was behind them. It appeared Sansa felt much the same as she stared at him in shock, her mouth dropped open slightly. Fortunately before she had time to gather her wits back about her and demurely and oh-so-politely reject him, a scraping of stone and the flicker of torchlight indicated they were no longer alone.
"There you two are. I was beginning to think you two weren't coming." Varys's honeyed voice stated as it bounced off the wall of the tunnel. A subtle twitch of the corner of his mouth was the only indication that he knew he had interrupted something between the ex-spouses before him.
Sansa quickly dropped his hands and addressed Varys, placing her mask of calm and leadership back in place. "How are my people?"
"Frightened as they should be. A little lost. Missandei and I are doing our best to quell the panic, but I think they would be far more comfortable once their Lady is with them." Varys answered.
Sansa hurried ahead, carrying her own torch while Varys and Tyrion followed behind. He arched an eyebrow at Tyrion in question and Tyrion just scowled and shook his head vigorously. Varys shrugged before stating loudly enough for Sansa to hear "I hear congratulations are in order for your sworn sword Lady Stark."
"How do you mean Lord Varys?" Sansa said slowing for them to catch up, but not stopping.
"Ser Jaime knighted Lady now Ser Brienne. The first woman knight of the Seven Kingdoms."
"That's wonderful!" Sansa replied.
"But that's not all, it appears that their soulmarks revealed themselves immediately afterwards." Tyrion just stared at Varys in disbelief. That had just happened an hour ago. How Varys already knew was astounding.
"Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne are soulmates?" Sansa questioned in disbelief and wonder. "She told me she was sure her soulmark was one of service to others. It never occurred to her that she had a match." she said quietly.
Tyrion could practically hear her thoughts and he knew what scant hope he had that she might agree to be his wife was dashed to dust. If Lady no Ser Brienne, who had never believed she had a soulmate, found her other half then Sansa who had prayed and wished so hard for hers to appear would not be satisfied with a marriage with anyone other than her soulmate despite what she had said earlier.
With what slight hope he had for a future if they lived utterly obliterated, Tyrion yanked the stopper of his wineskin out with his teeth and took a giant swig. He had promised himself he would not get drunk, but he needed something to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. Storming past Sansa towards the torchlight where the others had gathered he said flatly "Yes, it was all quite sweet and romantic. Hopefully, they live long enough to actually enjoy it! If not at least they found each other before the end. Unlike some of us." he grumbled.
A wave of anger and grief overtook him as he stood feeling utterly alone at the end of the world, making his words suddenly cruel and biting as only a Lannister would. He raised his wineskin in a mock toast "To our soulmates Lady Stark! Too bad they didn't bother to fucking show up before we all die hear tonight!" he laughed bitterly.
Tyrion had been so blinded by his own inner turmoil, he had scarcely noticed they had entered the large chamber full of scared women and children. All of whom stared at him in fear and horror as they had heard his bitter proclamation. Ashamed of his own childish outburst, he slunk off down an unoccupied tunnel while Sansa went to calm her people aiming a pointed look at his direction as she pushed past him.
Sansa tried to put Tyrion's strange behavior out of her mind as she walked around the crypt visiting with her people. It surprised her to see how they gathered strength from her words, as worthless as they were with the battle raging overhead. Varys and Missandei also moved among them, the children flocking to Varys who had a gift in handling the older children, either due to his non threatening mannerisms or the frank and kind way he spoke to them. Missandei won over the younger mothers quickly with her ability to soothe fussy infants by singing to them quietly in High Valyrian. Tyrion was conspicuously absent and Sansa couldn't decide if that made her more or less angry with him.
Sansa dropped down on a crate where Missandei joined her and they shared the wineskin Tyrion had dropped when he went off to sulk. They were quiet for a minute before Missandei spoke. "I've not seen Lord Tyrion act that way before. I've always found him to be a kind and thoughtful man."
"Yes, he has always been kind to me." Sansa replied. Which was why his words hurt so badly now she thought to herself. "I know he has a sharp tongue, usually when he's in his cups." she said flashing back to their dismal wedding feast. " I just have never had it directed towards me."
"Well we are at the end of the world my Lady, scared for our loved ones that are fighting above. We may be allowed to not act like ourselves."
"True. But it doesn't make the words less hurtful."
Missandei nodded, "I think it is hard for Lord Tyrion to not be part of the battle. He has the heart of a warrior even if his desire outways his abilities. I truly didn't expect him to listen to our Queen, and I half expect she didn't believe he would either." She paused. "He can fight, I've seen it. He even saved my life once. There was a rebellion in Meereen, slavers who didn't like the new order instituted by Daenerys. We were ambushed and one came at me with a knife. Lord Tyrion stabbed him from behind and slit his throat. My love was severely injured at the time and bed ridden, his heart grieved him that he was not able to fight for me or Daenerys." She paused. "I suspect Lord Tyrion feels the same."
"Then why didn't he stay to fight?" Sansa asked.
"Would you be here if he didn't escort you?" she asked.
"I'm not sure." Sansa answered honestly. Would she have gone below or lied to Arya, only managing to get it somebody's way?
Missandei didn't reply, but let her eyes wander skyward while muttering what Sansa suspected was a prayer as a tremendous noise, as if the keep was collapsing above, shook the cavern.
"The Unsullied Captain, Greyworm, he is your soulmate?" Sansa asked assuming that was whom she prayed for.
"Soulmarks and soulmates are almost unheard of in Essos. But I do not need a mark on my wrist to tell me that I love Greyworm with all my heart and that he loves me in return. I think sometimes the Westerosi people have become so enamored of soulmarks that they forget what it is to just fall in love with somebody." She paused again and smiled a little. "Although I must say watching their Graces meet and soulbond immediately was one of the more remarkable things I have witnessed."
"I wish I had seen it. Tyrion told me it was something out of the stories I use to read."
"He did?" she said. "That explains why his first reaction was to say 'I wish Sansa was here.'"
"He thought of me?"
"I do believe that Lord Tyrion thinks of you very often Lady Stark." Missandi said with a half smile.
Sansa remembered how sweet he had been to her in King's Landing, his thoughtfulness and kindness towards her despite the circumstances. How she had fought against trusting him, he was a Lannister, he was one of them, yet he treated her so kindly and never resented her for pushing him away. But slowly over the months of their sham marriage she had learned that it wasn't a trick, that he was different from the other Lannisters, that he wasn't one of them. If he could be understanding and patient with her under those conditions, forgive her for her rejections of his friendship and the icy words she had hurled at him as she learned to trust him, then she could be understanding and forgiving when he had turned his frustrations towards her.
Words could wound, but in the end they were nothing but wind. Taking one more sip of wine, she stood and looked down the tunnel he had disappeared in. She would not let her friend be alone if the Stranger came.
Bogged down in his own misery, Tyrion didn't realize for a good while that it was the honorable Ned Stark's tomb that he had chosen to hide behind.
"Sorry Lord Stark, didn't mean to disturb you." he said maneuvering to see the statue that didn't quite do justice to the man he remembered.
"I think you'd have been truly happy to never see my face again or any Lannister's." he stared at the man's dour face. Perhaps, the sculpture did capture the man's essence after all. "I won't speak for all the ills that my family's done to yours. It was beyond heinous. But I want you to know that I never touched Bran or Sansa for that matter. Hells, I even saved your lady wife's life even though she held me prisoner for a crime I didn't commit. I also gave your very bones to Lord Baelish to deliver to her. It was quite literally the least I could do once I followed in your footsteps as Hand." The stone statue's severe countenance looked unimpressed by Tyrion's speech.
"I swear to you I did what I could to protect Sansa when she was my wife. A marriage that was in name only, I swear it by the old Gods and the new. I would have kept her safe until I could have delivered her back here to her family. And I live with the guilt of what happened to her when I failed to keep that promise." Tyrion said, his voice breaking with emotion.
"I wish you could see her now Lord Stark. Your eldest daughter has grown into one of the most remarkable women I've ever met. Intelligent, kind, beautiful, a natural leader, and so strong. She has gone through so much since my vial nephew took your head and instead of it destroying her, it forged her into something fierce and unbreakable."
"It's no wonder why I think I'm in love with her." he said quietly.
And that was the harsh truth of it all. He had fallen for her. Despite their soulmarks that split them apart, despite their family's feud that plunged the kingdom into war, despite their age difference, he loved her.
Not that it meant a damn thing when it was unrequited and they would most likely not see the dawn. Still he owed her an apology for his outburst. But he had no idea how he would explain the proposal without revealing the contents of his poor battered heart.
He turned to find her at the same time she appeared at the far end of the tunnel. He hurried to her side. He gave her a tremulous style raking his hands through his hair in frustration and embarrassment. "I'm an ass. I'm sorry Sansa. I shouldn't have said what I did."
"No, you shouldn't have." Sansa agreed sternly. "But don't you see it doesn't matter, none of it does. What matters is having somebody I care about to hold my hand if this is the end for us." She wiped aside a tear that had escaped, the fear enough to melt her icy visage. But her iciness had never fooled him. He knew a warm and loving woman lay underneath.
"Sansa, I would be honored to hold your hand until the Stranger takes us." Tyrion said gripping her outstretched hand and kissing it reverently.
They smiled at each other and Tyrion was so caught up in his emotions for this dynamic woman that it took him a second to realize the sound he was hearing was screaming. This was followed by scratching and inhuman screams from the tombs surrounding them as the dead started to rise. He felt the same icy feeling from earlier race up his arm and knew without looking what his soulmark was telling him. The wights were here, and they were sealed up with them.
They hid behind her father's tomb. Tyrion seemed to think it safe there as it contained only his bones, no flesh or skin allowing a shape to animate. He clutched her hand tight to his chest, peering out to witness the carnage out in the corridor as the dead attacked the living. Sansa concentrated only on breathing as panic engulfed her. The edges of her vision grew splotchy and she realized she was seconds from hyperventilating and passing out. Desperately she looked at him and their eyes held. Without words, a thousand conversations played out between them. Things that otherwise may have never been communicated. The rawness of it all along with the visceral terror made her want to weep. But it also made her want to fight, want to live, to be able to fully explore what it meant.
With a feeling of certainly, she reached for her dagger with her shaking hand, pulling it to her chest. Tyrion watched her and with a single look of determination, drew his own blade before kissing her gloved hand with passion and fear. And with a nod of his head, they leapt into battle.
Fear and pain were no strangers to Sansa. But fighting in a battle was. She followed Tyrion's lead, as he blazed a path before him, slaying the undead quickly and efficiently. One reached for him while he dispatched another and hand trembling, Sansa did as Arya instructed and stuck it in the back with the pointy end causing it to instantly dissolve the corpse into dust. With a new found confidence, Sansa went on the attack taking out as many as she could. Tyrion and her moved and attacked together in synchronicity, as if they had been fighting together for years.
They rounded up what survivors they could, directing them to the tunnel they had cleaned out behind them. It felt like for every soul they rescued, they heard another scream being silenced forever. Time took on no meaning and Sansa's arm grew weary. After rescuing Missandei, little Sam, and Gilly and escorting them to safety, they collapsed behind another tomb whose occupant was long gone. Tyrion squeezed her hand and for a second she thought the tide may be turning.
Then she heard a low growl.
Sansa knew immediately, not only what it was, but who it was. A direwolf. But Ghost was above, Nymeria running wild in the Riverlands, and the other three direwolves bodies never made it home to Winterfell. Only one did.
Lady.
It was too much for her to bear. Lady had already been cruelly killed once, but to have to put her down again. She just couldn't. She chewed on her lip in despair as the tears spilled down her face. Alarmed Tyrion, wiped them away a question in his eyes. The wolf growled again and Tyrion's eyes widened as she watched him come to the same conclusion. "Lady?" he asked silently and she nodded in return. "I can't," she mouthed in reply.
He nodded his head and they inched around the tomb, spying the undead wolf looking away from them. As they crypt out into the tunnel it must have sensed their movement and turned. Spotting Sansa, the once beautiful wolf now not much more than a rotten hide stretched over a skeleton, whined as if recognizing her. Jon said the dead held no memory of what they were when they were alive and were nothing but puppets of the Night King, but then again he thought that they would be safe in the crypts so she wasn't so sure.
The skeletonized wolf suddenly started charging toward them and Sansa froze unable to act. Bravely, Tyrion stepped in front of her and was thrown on his back as the wolf pounced upon him, it's sharp teeth reaching for his neck. Tyrion wrestled with the wolf for a minute and was finally able to pierce the hide with his dragonglass dagger. Sansa fell to the ground as the corpse dissolved to dust, crawling toward Tyrion who lay breathing heavily on the ground.
"Tyrion!" she cried in fear, cupping his face in her hands while checking him for any serious injuries.
He smiled at her a little dazed. "I'm okay Sansa." he assured her, as they both slowly pulled themselves to their feet.
"You saved me. I froze and you saved me." she said in disbelief.
"I may be small Sansa, but I will use every inch of me to protect those I love." Tyrion replied looking at her softly.
Sansa's confused heart stuttered at his declaration. What did he mean by that? Tyrion smiled at her sweetly and pulled her hand to his mouth, kissing the bare skin of her inner wrist, just below the band he gave her before their wedding. "I may not be your soulmate but if we survive this Sansa, I stand by the offer I made earlier if you'll have me."
It was at that moment, an inhuman shriek came from their left and a wight rushed them. Tyrion pushed Sansa out of it's way before it lifted the small man by one arm crushing it in a vice like grip. Tyrion screamed in agonizing pain as he dangled in the air, his legs kicking helplessly. The corpse grinned evilly, before throwing Tyrion against the stone wall. His head hit the wall with a sickening thud, and he fell limply to the ground like a ragdoll.
Rage surged through Sansa's body as grief and anger drove all the fear from her body leaving a cold deadly certainty. She launched herself at the wight with a scream dragging her dagger across its body. It shattered immediately and Sansa scrambled towards Tyrion dragging him into her lap. His right arm was bent at a grotesque angle and his eyes were closed. Carding her fingers through his curls, they came away slick with blood from a wound on the back of his head and her gentle probing caused his eyes to flutter open briefly.
Dazed, he stared up at her in wonder using his undamaged hand to reach up and touch her face. "I'm here Tyrion. I'm going to keep you safe until we can get you help." she whispered.
He smiled but she could see a veil of darkness starting to close over his eyes. Voice breaking, she scolded him to make him stay awake. "Don't you leave me here alone Tyrion Lannister."
"Sansa," he slurred, his eyes becoming unfocused. He grimaced in pain before whispering wistfully, "I wish we had made it onto that ship." His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he lapsed into unconsciousness in her arms.
A minute later, cheers of victory erupted throughout the crypts of Winterfell as the dead collapsed one by one, the Night King defeated. But they barely registered to Sansa over her wails for help as Tyrion fought his own battle against the Stranger.
