~Elena~

There were to many people. Their chatter smothering me as my face flushed with to much heat. My body felt weightless under the influence of to much wine. My movements sluggish as I tried to stay near the wall. Sansa was seated at the high table next to a very intoxicated Tyrion, so it wasn't hard to keep an eye on her.

"Elena? I'm glad I found you." Pod's voice buzzed in my ear as I turned to see him grinning at me. He'd washed and brushed his hair, his suit freshly cleaned. I wondered how much of this display was for me, and sighed at the thought.

"Good evening Pod. I'm glad you found me to." I chuckled leaning harder against the wall as the world shifted before my hazy eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he took my arm gently. I leaned against him. Taking in the scent of sweat and sweet wine. My chest ached at the familiarity, but I pushed it down.

"I'm fine, thank you. Did you need something?" I steadied myself, taking deep calming breaths to keep his blurred face in focus.

"There was a kitchen girl looking for you. I am afraid I did not get her name. She said you would know who she was." Lucia. I quickly sobered with the thought of my sister, standing up to feel eyes on me. I looked up to see Tyrion gazing at me, a drunken slob on the night of his wedding. The night he would- I stopped that thought before any lasting damage could be done.

"Yes, thank you. I simply must-" Sansa stood, a frustrated looked painted on her pretty pinched face, as she walked off hurriedly. A deep frown and a bad feeling at the pit of my stomach followed as Joffery excused himself to go after her.

"I'll speak to you later Pod, I promise. I have to follow Sansa." I rushed, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. It was only after I'd finally caught up with her that I thought on my actions and wondered at myself. I really need to stop doing this. Joffery arrived just as we'd rounded the corner away from the onlooking crowd. His eyes glaring at me.

"It's alright." Sansa whispered as I stepped forward, looking for any reason to finally be rid of the spoiled child king. "Give us a moment please Elena." I returned an icy look of my own before walking off, just far enough that I couldn't make out the words coming out of the smug bastard's mouth, but I could see the default emotionless look on Sansa's face. One day, that bastard will die, and I hope I'm around to see it. I was mere seconds from intervening their little talk, before he spun around and walked out onto the balcony.

"It's time for the bedding ceremony." He announced as he clapped to get everyone's attention. I was unfamiliar with this concept, but judging from the look on Sansa's face, it was no doubt something that would cause her great distress.

"There will be no bedding ceremony." Tyrion called out as I walked up and took Sansa's hand, gripping it tightly to offer her some reassurance. She gave me one last hopeless look before she followed him down the stairs.

"Where's your respect for tradition uncle? Come everyone, pick her up and carry her to her wedding bed. Get rid of her gown, she won't be needing it any longer. Ladies, attend to my uncle. He's not heavy." There was a round of laughter as I looked on, not knowing where my place was any longer.

"There will be no bedding ceremony." Tyrion's voice had taken on a dangerous edge while Joffery continued to laugh at his expense.

"There will be a bedding ceremony, if I command it." Don't do anything stupid. I prayed as Tyrion examined the knife in his hand before sinking it into the wooden table.

"Then you'll be fucking your own bride with a wooden cock." You idiot. The crowd grew hush as Tywin stood, a fire burning in his eyes as he looked at his youngest son. Joffery turned, face red with rage, veins bulging in his neck.

"What did you say?" He spat as I took a step closer to Sansa, it would only take a heartbeat for that fury to lash out at the closest vulnerable victim.

"I believe we can dispense with the bedding, Your Grace. I'm sure Tyrion did not mean to threaten the king." Tywin piped in as he came to stand between the two. Tyrion laughed, his face taking on the expression of a drunkard.

"A bad joke." Tyrion explained with a shrug. "I'm quite envious of your royal manhood. Mine is quite small. I'm afraid my poor wife won't even know I'm there."

"Your uncle is clearly quite drunk, Your Grace." Tywin explained as a smirk pulled at his lips.

"I am. Guilty." Tyrion slurred as he took another long sip of wine. "But, it is my wedding night. My tiny junk cock and I have a job to do." He slammed into a table while attempting to step down from the high table. Stumbling over to a very flustered Sansa.

"Come wife." He ordered as he took her hand. "I vomited on a girl once, during the act, not proud of it. But I think honesty is important between a man and his wife, don't you agree? Come, I'll tell you all about it. Put you in the mood." She walked away with him, leaving me as nothing more than a fading thought as I disappeared into the crowd once more. I should have been there, offering words of encouragement and wisdom, but my feet refused to move closer.

"Elena?" Pod's voice was a welcome change as I took in his worried look.

"I'm sorry. She needed me." Like she needs me now. Maybe, Lord Varys was right. Maybe I should take Lucia and leave. "You were saying about the kitchen girl?" He frowned lightly before nodding, taking my hand in his as he led me through the crowd.

"I'll take you to her. A beautiful girl shouldn't walk these halls alone with so many drunk men about." My cheeks warmed at his thoughtfulness, even though with the darkness so close to the surface, I almost welcomed a fight.

"Thank you Pod. You're really very sweet." He smiled sheepishly, though I noticed his grip on my hand tightened with his confidence.