Author's Note: As this story comes to a close, I just want to thank all of you for reading and for all your support and encouragement. This has been a long journey, and it's a little hard for me to believe that it's actually over, but here we are, finally at the end. I have more Sanrion stories planned for the future, so if you'd like to be notified when I post, please feel free to follow me.

The original draft of this story included alternate versions of several chapters, including a different scene in which Sansa and Tyrion finally confess their love for each other. I have posted that alternate content as a separate story on Archive of Our Own titled "The Bastard of Winterfell – Alternate Chapters."

Epilogue

The wheelhouse lurched along the rocky terrain, creaking woefully as it struggled to navigate the bumpy road. Sansa held baby Joanna tighter in her arms, hoping that the dreadful noise wouldn't wake her. It was early evening and the children were already fast asleep, but the wheelhouse rolled on, hoping to reach Casterly Rock within the hour. Outside the open window, Sansa watched the landscape passing by, all in shadow. There was a half-moon overhead, and it provided just enough light to silhouette the distant mountains against the dark sky.

The Westerlands were so different from the north, more rugged, less snowy. Now that spring was in full bloom, everything looked more verdant, and even at night, Sansa could see hints of green dotting the landscape.

Sansa glanced up at Tyrion. He was huddled on the seat opposite her, reading by lantern light, Eddard fast asleep at his side. The boy had grown so much since Tyrion had returned two years earlier. He was gaining height daily, and he was a bit more serious now, though he still loved to talk about dragons and play at slaying White Walkers. He had been disappointed that Joanna hadn't been born a boy or a dwarf, but Sansa was certain he would feel differently once his sister was old enough to follow him around the yard and go on adventures with him. She was a little over a year old now, just beginning to exert her own personality and explore the world.

Joanna was a happy baby, not fussy or temperamental in the least. She had been born with Sansa's fiery hair, but with her father's dark eyes. Although she and Eddard had decidedly different coloring, their features were strikingly similar, and it was clear to anyone who looked at them that they were full-blooded siblings. Now that Tyrion had been at Winterfell for a full two years, the rumors about Eddard's paternity had started to fade. No one called him the Bastard of Winterfell anymore, for seeing the two of them together, there was just no denying that Eddard Lannister was his father's son.

"Do you see something that pleases you, wife?" Tyrion asked, his eyes still on his book.

"Yes," Sansa replied. "Something that pleases me very much indeed."

Tyrion grinned. He closed the book and put it on the seat beside him, finally looking up at her. "I'm sorry we've been confined to such close quarters for so long with the children. I can assure you, were they not here, you would have spent this entire journey on your back."

"Or you on yours."

Tyrion laughed. "Well, I certainly wouldn't have objected to that."

Sansa blushed, though she knew there was no reason to be embarrassed. There was no shame between her and Tyrion anymore, no secrets, no half-truths, nothing. They were always open and honest with each other, always eager to share and eager to please. Sansa couldn't have imagined a happier match or loving anyone more.

Tyrion's expression turned serious for a moment. "How is she?" he asked, nodding toward the sleeping babe in Sansa's arms.

"Fine," she answered. "She's handled this trip better than Eddard."

"Well, that's just because he constantly wants to be out there, riding alongside the wheelhouse with Arya. If he had his way, he'd be camping on the ground with her every night too."

Sansa laughed. It was quite true. Eddard still considered himself a fearless adventurer, and he still followed Arya around as if she were Azor Ahai come back to life.

"Yes, well," Sansa said, "he has no choice in the matter. I can only imagine how difficult he's going to be to handle once he's of age."

"Do you think he'll be more like your brother Robb or more like your cousin Jon?"

"More like his father, I suspect. Unruly, temperamental, insufferable."

"Ah, you flatter me, my lady. Such high praise indeed."

The hint of a smile pulled at Sansa's lips. Although everything she had said about him was true, it had all been said with love. She loved Tyrion Lannister just as he was, and she wouldn't want him any other way.

"Well, you've certainly earned it," Sansa replied.

Tyrion chuckled, though the sound ended on a sigh. Sansa could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted to cross the space between them and kiss her, but there was still a slumbering child at his side and a sleeping babe in her arms.

"I know how the baby is," Tyrion said, his voice turning serious again, "but how are you, my love?"

"Well enough, but I'll be more than happy when this rolling inn finally comes to a stop and I can sleep in a real bed again. I can only imagine what the trip back is going to be like. Perhaps we should stay at Casterly Rock for the next seven months, until the baby is born, and then go back."

Tyrion shrugged. "I have no objection to that, but then we'll be traveling with a screaming infant for weeks on end, and I doubt either one of us will enjoy that very much."

Tyrion had a good point. When Sansa had first learned that she was pregnant again, they had made the decision to visit Casterly Rock straight away, afraid that if they waited any longer, they might never make the trip. It was one thing to cart two children across the continent to visit their aunt and uncle. It was another thing entirely to make the trip with three children, one of them a newborn.

Even so, Sansa was already regretting their decision to travel. She'd spent one too many mornings being sick inside the wheelhouse, and she was very much looking forward to their journey's end.

"Perhaps we shouldn't have made the trip in the first place," Sansa said. "Perhaps Jaime and Brienne should have visited us instead. After all, I'm the one who's with child again."

"Yes, but they've already got three children of their own, and I can't imagine it would be an easy journey for them either. Besides, they've already made the trip once, and now, it's our turn."

A few months before Joanna had been born, Brienne had given birth to twin boys, Selwyn and Renly. A little over a year later, she had welcomed a baby girl named for the mother she had never known.

"I promise you, Sansa," Tyrion said, "once we reach the Rock, you won't regret having made the trip. You'll be happy that Eddard and I convinced you to come."

Tyrion spoke with the pride of a man who loved his home almost as much as he loved his family. Even though he would never be Lord of Casterly Rock, it was his ancestral home, and Sansa knew it meant the world to him.

"I'm already glad that you convinced me to come," she said, moved by the emotion she saw in his eyes. "I know this makes you happy, and that's all that matters to me. I want you to be happy, Tyrion."

"I am happy, and I have you to thank for it. If it wasn't for you, Sansa, I wouldn't have anything. I'd be living in a hovel somewhere, all alone, feeling sorry for myself and drinking myself to death. You saved me from that, and not a day goes by that I don't thank the gods for you."

Sansa pulled her eyes away from Tyrion and glanced at Eddard. He was still sound asleep, and there was no way for Tyrion to extricate himself from the boy's embrace. So she turned her attention to Joanna, the babe still slumbering soundly in her arms. Sansa knew that if she was careful, she could put Joanna down in her little cradle without waking her. Gently, oh so very gently, Sansa lowered the baby into the tiny bed between the seats and held her breath until she was certain she had not woken her.

Sansa looked up at Tyrion again. He picked up his book and placed it on his lap, making room for her next to him. Then, he held out his hand to her, and she quietly slipped onto the empty seat beside him.

Eddard stirred but didn't wake, and Sansa exhaled in relief. She wrapped her fingers around Tyrion's, squeezing gently, just thankful to feel his hand in hers. He looked up at her then, so much love and warmth in his eyes that she thought her heart might burst.

"You're not the only one who's thankful," Sansa said softly, the close quarters making the moment feel wonderfully intimate. "When we were first wed, I could never have imagined that our life together would turn out like this, but I'm happy that it did. I don't think I could have ever found a man better suited to me."

"Oh, I'm sure you could have. Someone dashing and brave."

"You're quite dashing yourself, my lord," Sansa said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "And quite brave. After all, you've lived with Arya for two years now. Surely, that takes a great deal of bravery."

"Yes, well, when you put it that way, I certainly can't argue."

"My father once promised to find me a man who was brave and gentle and strong. And although I don't think he would have ever considered the match himself, I'm sure if he could see us now, he would agree that my husband is all of those things and more."

Tyrion's breath hitched in his throat. "You . . . you really believe that, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. You're everything I've ever wanted, Tyrion Lannister. Braver than any knight, more dashing than any prince. And I couldn't love you more if you were Ser Loras Tyrell himself."

Tyrion laughed, and so did Sansa.

"It's a good thing I know you're joking," he said.

"Who said I was joking?"

"You'd better be joking, or I may have to leave you on the side of the road before we ever reach Casterly Rock."

Sansa laughed again. "All right, I was joking. Are you happy now?"

"Yes. Always."

Sansa leaned into Tyrion, closing the distance between them and kissing him softly. When she pulled away, she rested her head against his shoulder and stared out the window again, watching the scenery pass by. Tyrion squeezed her hand but didn't let it go. He settled in beside her and kissed the top of her head, making her feel safe and warm and loved.

Sansa smiled to herself. It was hard to believe just how far they'd come since the day Tyrion had first told her that she was going to be his bride. At the time, she had been horrified by the idea, but now, there wasn't another man in all the world that she could have loved more. Tyrion Lannister was everything Sansa had ever wanted. He was her knight in shining armor, her charming prince, her dream lover. And she would love him all of her days.