Chapter 3
Sansa decided to show up at court the next day. Now that the Tyrell's were so friendly toward her she'd occasionally attended court with Megga and Elinor, so seeing her there today would hopefully surprise no one. She would sometimes chat with them about how fierce King Joffrey was in his rulings. They were all quite taken with him, for the same reasons she had been before the war had started. She put up with their fawning, but could not find it in her to lie so well as to join in.
She came to court for a different purpose than to be friendly with the Tyrells today. She wanted a look at her husband-to-be. He'd scarcely been heard of since the battle on the Blackwater. His father had taken over as Hand of the King at that point, and he'd been recovering from his wound, so he hadn't been at court and was rarely seen. Now that he was Master of the Coin and part of the Small Council again he was likely to be at court again.
The fact that the Tyrells liked her worked to her advantage today. If they had not, then her place in court would be very far away from the throne. All the way at the end of the hall, in fact. But when they spotted her one of them always took her arm, as Megga did now, and escorted her to be with their group. They were in excellent standing, and stood quite near the Iron Throne and the small council. Just across the hall she spotted her query. The members of the council were all gathered on the other side, Lord Mace Tyrell, Maester Pycelle, Lord Varys, Lord Kevan Lannister, and of course Lord Tywin Lannister and Lord Tyrion Lannister.
Sansa's stomach jumped. She almost wished she hadn't searched him out now. She'd not seen him clearly since before his injury. She'd heard that someone had taken his nose off, but she thought that the remark had been made more in jest than in an actual recounting. The wound was not being quick to heal either. What little nose he had left ended in a large scab, and under it was a large raw scar that went from cheek to chin across his lips. If he'd been displeasing to look at before, it had been nothing to what he looked like now.
She observed him surreptitiously during the whole session. It had taken a bit of effort to get past his face, but once she did she noticed quite a few things about him. The most prevalent being he was bored, and that he didn't approve of his nephew's rulings at all. His whole demeanor spoke volumes about how he was annoyed at being there at all. She was sure he never felt that way when he had been in charge. Then again when he held court as the Hand he had never drawn them out very long, so perhaps she was mistaken.
He clearly didn't know, or perhaps just didn't care, that he was being observed, if his mannerisms were any indicator. He fidgeted aimlessly and scratched at the scab his nose. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other every so often, and combining that with his short stature made him look a bit like a restless child. Sansa could see discomfort in his face though, she wondered if his legs were paining him in some way.
It didn't escape her notice that he looked her way quite often. She didn't know what he was looking for, if it was idle curiosity or an inspection of his soon-to-be bride in which she might be found wanting in some way. It made her nervous, so she she stood up straight and pulled her shoulders back. She thought she'd been subtle about it, but the way more eyes had drawn to her made her doubt.
It was her dress, she realized after a moment. Her entire wardrobe was ill fitting now, and her dress had pulled tight over her chest when she stood with good posture. She could feel her face heat a bit, but she would not hunch herself meekly again, now that she'd decided to stand straight.
She let her mind drift to the actual business of the court as news from the war filled the hall. She realized, with a start, that she'd heard most of it yesterday in the small council chamber. She wondered if this was what it was like to be a whisperer. To know all the business of the court, and it's members, before they ever came to light to anyone else. It would be very easy to feel superior, if you didn't know you could never tell anyone. She glanced at Lord Varys, who she was sure discreetly winked at her.
She looked away quickly. As she searched for something else to look at her eyes landed on Lord Tyrion again. This time he was looking at her yet again and their eyes caught one another. Sansa found herself blushing in earnest this time, but she nodded to him politely. He looked surprised, but after a moment he nodded back. Sansa remembered a bit too late that a nod at court was something you only did to people with whom you were associated. By nodding at him she was acknowledging that they were connected in some way, but she wasn't supposed to know that.
She felt rather foolish now. It was one thing to not tell anyone you knew information you shouldn't, but it was another thing all together to not act on it. She glanced at Varys again. He looked at her approvingly before turning his attention to the throne, where King Joffrey had just concluded business for the day. She noticed the heated discussion going on near him. Lord Tyrion and Lord Tywin were arguing quietly. Lord Tywin looked up at her. Mustering all her will she did not shrink under his gaze, but instead nodded again.
She didn't get to see his reaction to this. By then the court was breaking apart and Megga had tugged on her arm for her attention. People were passing in front of her and Megga was demanding that she go with her to the gardens for some reason. She supposed that if it were important she'd find out soon enough. She smiled at Megga and let herself be led to the gardens.
The next morning she got an invitation to luncheon with Lord Tywin Lannister. Sansa thought on it carefully, looking for any sort of clue as to what might be discussed, but of course she already had a suspicion. She sent the messenger back with her acceptance.
When time came round for the midday meal she found herself in the Tower of the Hand. She wondered, briefly, if Lord Tyrion would be there as well. As the servant saw her in she saw that Lord Tywin was alone and already sitting at the dining table.
"My apologies, my lord, I didn't realize I was late." Sansa said as she was seated.
"Nonsense Lady Sansa, I assure you you're right on time." Lord Tywin said in reply.
They sat in silence as servants came and placed the food on the table. After the food was down Lord Tywin sent the servants away. Whatever he wanted to discuss, he wanted to do it privately.
"I'm sure you're wondering why I've asked you here?" Lord Tywin started.
"I am quite curious, my lord." Sansa agreed.
"Lady Sansa, what do you think of my son?" Lord Tywin asked.
"I've only met Ser Jaime briefly, my lord. So I truly could not say." Sansa replied. This answer seemed to amuse Lord Tywin.
"A clever answer. But I'm sure you know I was speaking of my younger son, Tyrion." Lord Tywin responded.
Sansa didn't know exactly what to say to that. She had several thoughts about Lord Tyrion, none of which she felt were appropriate to voice to his father.
"I have very few thoughts of him at all, my lord." Sansa answered.
"I find that highly unlikely." Lord Tywin protested. "If there is anything to be said about Tyrion, it's that he always makes an impression. Do be truthful, my lady."
Sansa couldn't object to that statement. She didn't imagine that Lord Tyrion was an easily forgotten sort of person, and not just because of his small stature.
"I do not find him objectionable, my lord." Sansa said after a moment.
"Really? Because in my experience most ladies find him to be quite objectionable. His deformity has hardly won him any favor in that regard." Lord Tywin said bluntly.
"I do not define objectionable in terms as to mean 'unpleasant to look upon', my lord." Sansa explained.
"Indeed." Lord Tywin said. "And my plans to wed you to Lord Tyrion, do you find those 'objectionable'?"
Sansa looked up from her plate quickly. She wasn't surprised that he knew, not really. She struggled for an answer to his question, but was saved from the trouble of having to think of one.
Just then the door to the dining room opened and the subject of their discussion came waltzing, or rather waddling, in. He paused abruptly when he saw Sansa at the table.
"You're late," Lord Tywin said as a greeting to his son.
"My apologies. You didn't tell me you intended for us to have company." Tyrion said. "Lady Sansa." He greeted. Sansa nodded politely.
"Do have a seat. Lady Sansa and I were just about to have a rather illuminating discussion." Lord Tywin said. Lord Tyrion glared at him and went over to the other side of the table and pulled himself up onto the chair across from her. After a still moment Lord Tywin turned his attentions back to her.
"Now then, where were we?" He asked.
"Your plans to wed me to Lord Tyrion, my lord." Sansa answered dutifully. She did not look at Lord Tyrion as she said this.
"Ah yes. I'm quite curious to know how you came to know of them." Lord Tywin said.
"You told me of them. Just now my lord." Sansa answered, as if she couldn't fathom what he meant.
A coughing fit from Tyrion distracted them both. They both turned to him and found his face in a napkin. What she'd said had caused him to choke on his wine. He looked at her and his eyes were filled with mirth. She'd amused him by making a mockery of his father. She wasn't sure what to make of that.
"And what explanation do you have for your behavior at court the other day?" Lord Tywin asked when he turned to her again.
"You'll have to forgive me if I feel some sort of familiarity with Lord Tyrion. He's the only person in King's Landing who has been consistently kind to me after my father was revealed as a traitor." Sansa said. She blushed a bit when she thought of just when he'd been kind to her. In hopes of using her face to her advantage she glanced across the table at the dwarf and then quickly to down to her plate.
She was hoping to make it appear as though she often sought him out at court, but hadn't actually caught his eye until just yesterday. She dared to glance up quickly to survey their reactions. Both looked appropriately astonished, so she felt as if she'd pulled it off successfully.
Lord Tywin was the first to recover.
"Very well then, as you are so comfortable with my son already, the news of this betrothal will not come as a displeasure to you." Lord Tywin said, getting down to business.
"The Tyrells-" Sansa tried.
"Yes, I am familiar with the plans of the Tyrells. As it stands Mace Tyrell has not had the decency to make an offer to the crown for your hand, nor does he intend to. Very dishonorable, given that as the only decent person in a house full of traitors you find yourself a ward of the kingdom. I'm sure you agree." Lord Tywin said quickly.
"Yes, my lord." Sansa said, having no choice but to agree.
"As Lord Tyrion's father I have asked my daughter, the queen, for the arrangement and she has been so kind as to accept. In addition I have now made my intentions known to the prospective bride and groom during a very proper luncheon that I've let be known to the court. Tell me which claim has more merit?" Lord Tywin asked.
"Yours, my lord." Sansa answered politely.
"Then certainly you can have no objections on their behalf." Lord Tywin said, sounding very reasonable.
"No, my lord." Sansa agreed.
"Very well then, that's settled. The wedding is set for the day after next." Lord Tywin said. The air of finality irritated Sansa badly enough that she had to say something.
"The seamstress said the dress wouldn't be done for another four days yet." She commented. Lord Tywin's eyes flashed with anger as he looked at her sharply. Sansa set her jaw and looked him straight in the eye. She knew she'd given up her game at that point, but somehow the look on his face was worth it.
"I assure that's a problem that money can easily handle." Lord Tywin said dismissively after a moment. "I'll leave you two to get to know each other, shall I?"
Lord Tywin got up and stalked out of the room. The door shut and left her alone with her new betrothed.