Sansa couldn't help but stare as the man she had not seen in years climbed down from his seat on the dragon. She watched as the silver woman chattered on to the dwarf, and if the smile and the easy way they interacted was anything to go on, they were surely close. Sansa took her time to observe the man she was legally wed to. The years had obviously been hard on him, but not unkind to his features. If anything, he looked better with the scruffy beard and the rugged scars adorning his face. And while his smile was still kind, there was a solemness in his eyes. Though Sansa was sure that some of what was impressing her was the magnificent beast he had been riding just a moment before, she was still transfixed. It was only when Tyrion glanced towards the group on Valemen that she was standing with that she forced her eyes to the ground. She shuffled a little closer to Harry, standing slightly behind him and keeping her gaze downward. She prayed that she looked inconspicuous and that he would not notice her. If Harry was confused by her actions, he did not show it-only allowed her to use him a shield.
She inwardly cursed as the silver queen approached them directly, but was glad to see she kept her attention on the Maester who had just joined them.
"How fares the little lord?" she asked, obviously much calmer now that she had her hand present.
"He has awoken, your grace. He shall greet you in the great hall in a moment. May I suggest we return to the warmth?" He gestured back towards the keep and the queen nodded.
Sansa was startled when Harry suddenly stepped away from her, leaving her exposed. She shrunk further in on herself, trying to remain obscure. She was instantly furious with her betrothed for abandoning her, though he looked purposeful as he strode forward.
"Excuse me!" Harry called out, moving closer to the queen and Tyrion. "Just what are we supposed to do with these?" He growled, irritated. His arm was stretched out, gesturing towards the two fearsome dragons that were still nipping at each other playfully. Their movements had already caused some damage- cartons of grain had been knocked to the ground and burst open. The beasts were now trampling food that would be detrimental should this winter last too long.
Sansa and everyone else from the Vale fell into a hush from Harry's burst of anger. They witnessed the silver woman execute Lord Baelish within minutes of her arrival, and that violence had not been forgotten so quickly. Although his grievance was fully sound, Sansa was still fearful for how the queen would react. Luckily, she looked instantly shame-faced and stepped towards her dragons. With a few foreign words, the beasts leapt into the sky, circling around each other and roaring happily. They flew off together, disappearing behind the rocky hills. The queen turned back and gestured for the dark woman in her company. The girl stepped forward and removed a pouch from her hip, handing it to her queen. She passed it along to Harry and as she dropped it into his hands, it jangled loudly.
"My apologies, My Lord," she murmured quietly. "This should replace your stores." From the size of the pouch, it was clearly teeming with coin and even if they were only silver (Sansa predicted they were gold) it would certainly contain a healthy sum. But Sansa knew from the look on Harry's face, it did little to make up for what was lost. They had both worked together with Baelish on the Eyrie's accounts and while they had been tight, they were not without money. It was suppliers they needed now. Farmers with a healthy crop to buy from and hunters willing to bring their wares into the Vale. That grain was what they needed. Their people could not eat coin.
But Harry just nodded tightly and pocketed the pouch. It would do no good to rail about what was lost, especially when he was testing the waters as is. They did not know this woman at all. She had been relatively courteous after Baelish was gone, but that did not mean that they could trust her. Harry glanced at Sansa for confirmation and she nodded slightly, approvingly. As he led the group back into the keep, she couldn't help but smile. She would never love the boy, but she appreciated the way he respected her. She followed the group, hanging back as far as she could without missing the conversation that was going on between her betrothed and her husband. Had the situation been any less dire for her, it might be amusing. The surveyed the two walking together and didn't think she could see a more different pair.
Harry was every maiden's dream: tall, broad-shouldered, and muscled with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes that were always alight with some jest or dark with lust. He had an easy smile that charmed all he used it on. Yet he was fully aware of his charms. It had actually been a rough time between he and Sansa in the beginning. When Baelish had first brought him to the Eyrie two years ago with interest of a match between them, Harry had clearly thought it would be an easy conquest. He had danced with her that night and had pulled her closer than was appropriate touching her in ways that made her uncomfortable. She could still smell the wine off his breath when he had whispered an appalling suggestion in her ear. Sansa had abruptly ended their dance, much to Harry's surprise and had avoided him for the rest of the visit. She had told her father that any other interactions must be with chaperones. She still didn't know whether it was her refusal had encouraged him all the more or not, but the next time she saw him, he had been a perfect gentleman.
That was until a few nights later when she had been sleeplessly walking the castle in the dead of night and walked in on he and a kitchen maid laid out on the table in the great hall. Sansa had been well taught on the proclivities of men, so she wasn't so frazzled to see her soon-to-be betrothed so intimate with another woman. But when Harry had come to her the next morning and begged her forgiveness, she figured she'd use it to her advantage. They had a true conversation then. Sansa had told him the expectations she had for their marriage, and faithfulness was not one of them. She wanted a true partner, someone who would not dismiss her just because of her sex. She had been the right-hand of the main ruler in the Vale and didn't want to be pushed aside as soon as she was wed. Take whomever you like to bed, My Lord. It does not matter to me she had told the wide-eyed boy. Still, she had been grateful that he had kept any dalliances discreet.
Then there was Tyrion. Lacking all the grace and handsomeness, but teeming with wit and intelligence. He was a man grown, despite his size, and held all the conviction that Harry was missing. He had lived through rejection and loss and pain, but had managed to form himself like a blacksmith would use fire and hammer to craft a sword. Watching him now, after everything she had lived through herself, she was able to appreciate him in a way she never could have in King's Landing. His quick humor had been wasted on her when she was a frightened child, but now she found herself biting her lip to keep from smiling at his japes. She longed to speak with him-tell him how grateful she was for his kindness towards her, even if she had not returned it. Longed to apologize for abandoning him in that viper's nest of a capital...but she knew that would be impossible. She couldn't blow her cover like that. Her father had been Robert Baratheon's best friend-she doubted the Targaryen woman would look kindly on a Stark. And she doubted even Tyrion would want to see her after she had left him to take the blame for Joffrey's murder.
That had been the one thing she had regretted after fleeing the capital with Lord Baelish. Tyrion had been nothing but kind to her and when Petyr revealed his plot to murder the evil king, the only thing she had not liked was who was left to be accused. It was wrong of her, but like everything else in her life-the choice had been made by someone else. She was grateful that he had seemed to survive the ordeal she had left him to face alone. Hells, it looked he had succeeded wildly, becoming a trusted adviser of this conqueror. She watched the queen and her hand. His demeanor put people at ease, unlike the silver queen beside him. She was fiery and passionate and demanding, he was witty and calm and solid. The two of them made a good pair. She had chosen wisely.
As they came upon the great hall, Sansa was pleased to see her little cousin looking much better rested and covered with warm furs. The fire had been stoked ever higher to keep little Robin from getting chilled and he had a cup of heated milk in his hands. She was glad to see his grip was steady on the glass and promised herself the little boy would never drink sweetsleep again.
"Lord Robert Arryn, your grace" Harry introduced their little lord and the queen smiled sweetly before nodding her head respectfully.
"We must thank you for your hospitality, Lord Arryn." she said courteously.
The little boy looked overawed by the silver queen, and his eyes darted around before they zeroed in on Sansa towards the back of the group. He looked to her for guidance and she subtly made a bowing motion, nodding encouragingly to him.
"Welcome to the Eyrie, Your Grace" He mumbled shakily, giving a weak bow. But it was enough for the queen, who continued to smile at the little boy.
"Won't you sit with me, Lord Robert?" she asked kindly and again he looked fearful. Much to Sansa's dismay, he dashed away from the queen, running to Sansa and throwing his arms around her waist.
"Come with me, Alayne?" He pleaded and Sansa met eyes with the queen, who smiled sympathetically and gestured for the two of them to join her by the fire. Terrified, Sansa could only allow little Robin to drag her over the the chairs.
She felt like a deer before a hunter as she moved forward, but was grateful to see Tyrion distracted by the queen's guards and the rest of her company. But even as they sat before the fire and the queen spoke gently to the little lord about bending the knee and providing for her royal army, she was on edge. She would never deprive her cousin of the comfort of her company, but she was fearful of standing out at all, and here she was, singled out in front of them all and sitting with the queen. Harry had pulled the rest of the group, including Tyrion back to the table they had sat at before and from the corner of her eye, Sansa observed the little man pouring a goblet of wine.
Please let him still be a drunk like before. Perhaps if he is deep in his cups, he will not recognize me. I've grown so much and with this dark hair...I might make it out of this... She thought frantically, sending a prayer to any god that was listening.
About an hour later, after observing how gentle the queen was being with her cousin and without any issue, Sansa had relaxed slightly. While not quite as bad as before, Tyrion did still seem to have a taste for wine. As he laughed loud enough to be heard from the fire, Sansa allowed herself to take a deep breath. As soon as the queen was satisfied, Sansa would take Robin to bed, and then do her best to avoid the royal party until the left. Daenerys, as the queen had introduced herself, was planning on just a short stay in the Vale before they moved north. There was some threat beyond the wall that they were marching towards and she wanted to get there as quickly as possible. If it was a short stay, Sansa could even pretend to be sick and unable to assist them or see them off. That would be her best option. Just get through tonight. Robin would be yawning soon and it would be a good excuse to leave.
For the first time since Tyrion had climbed off that dragon, Sansa felt herself relax. It would all work out. She even allowed herself to pour a glass of wine and drink deeply. So she didn't notice when Daenerys waved over her adviser. Didn't notice when Tyrion left the group and made his way over to them. No, she didn't even notice until she looked up and met his eyes.