Disclaimer: Parts of this chapter do not belong to me. I added on to a scene from the show, so I borrowed some of the dialogue from that.

I have a good chunk of the next chapter written so hopefully it won't take long to finish. Enjoy.

I find myself staring at his face some days, when we're quiet in our rooms and he's caught up in his books and me in my needlework. His face and his scars are becoming familiar and with that familiarity he is less undesirable and disfigured to me.

There are much uglier things in this world than one mans face. A face that I've come to associate with kindness and bravery. Being a foolish girl I had refused to accept his kindness, for how can one lion be tame in the middle of so much cruelty?

He is becoming less ugly to me day by day.

After our wedding night, which is still hard to recall without bringing a blush to my face, things were different. He was patient and made efforts to speak with me throughout our days. I was still cautious and terrified that things would once again be not as they seem. That my husband will turn on me like so many others have.

Yet, he hasn't and I'm beginning to trust that he never will. He is still kind and it seems that it is his goal to make me smile or laugh at least once a day. Some days he succeeds and some days he does not. On those days he sits quietly with me when he can. At first I was upset that he would not leave me be but now that I know that he is not there to bother me, he has become a silent presence in the room.

He has stayed true to his word of protection and when he is not able to be in my presence when outside of our rooms, he has his man Bronn check on me. A few times it has been his squire Podrick but he always seems too nervous to speak with me. Which I am alright with, I still remember opening the door to him in my slip. It's best if we don't speak.

Joffery is a presence I can't always avoid. My skin crawls when he comes near and I'm deeply grateful to my husband and his men that watch over me. I fear the worse would happen if they were not there.

Tyrion and I have obligations to his family as well that we can't avoid as much as we both would like. When we sup with the brood of them we arrive as late as acceptable and leave as soon as the food has been finished. When my husbands nephew or sister become too vicious he reaches for my hand under the table and I'm able to block them out while he tells them off. He's not afraid of them. I grip his hand tighter till we are able to leave. We always share a cup of wine on those dreaded nights.

Tyrion and I have settled into a routine that has become comfortable and welcome. One that I find myself enjoying. He robes me every morning when we wake and we break our fast in peaceful silence. Once he is dressed for the day he always inquires about my plans for my own and touches my hand with his before he leaves, wishing me well.

On the days I choose to stay in our rooms, which are greater than the days I leave, he makes it a point to visit me when his time is free. Tyrion has begun to take away the black cloud that has seemed to fall over me since I arrived in King's Landing. I won't ever be free of the Lannisters and our mutual hatred, but he's making it manageable.

The husband that I had dreaded having has become an unlikely friend and someone I feel I couldn't survive here without.

Tyrion is sitting at our table working on some correspondence he didn't get to yesterday and my handmaiden is getting my clothes ready for the day.

He speaks up suddenly, "You should wear the blue one. I like you in the blue one." His voice trails off, his focus back to his papers. I'm surprised by the request but I see no harm with indulging his suggestion. I give a nod to my handmaid for her to get the blue one instead.

I smirk when I see the surprise on his face when I join him at the table again. He didn't expect me to take him up on the blue dress.

"Lovely, Sansa," he says after his eyes pass over me.

"Thank you, my lord." I can't help but notice he is dressed in blue as well.

Sansa has been restless for a while now, tossing and turning in bed. "Sansa?" I'm on my side and I can see her looking in my direction.

"I'm sorry, my lord. My thoughts...i'll try to let you sleep." Her voice is clear and I can tell she hasn't been able to find any rest.

"Tell me what's troubling you, maybe it will help to get the thoughts out and you can sleep." I wish I could reach out and touch her hand, but that's a line I dare not cross while we are laying in our bed.

She's quiet for a long time but I know that she is thinking about what I have said. She turns fully on her side to face me as well, "Tyrion." She's so quiet now, "would you...if you had the chance, would you take me away from here?"

I don't impulsively answer like my tired mind wants too, I stop myself and really think about what she's asking. I hate my family and King's Landing because of them, but I can't lie and say that I do not enjoy the game that I play here. Learning of peoples lies and secrets, holding the power with that knowledge. But...I'm finding things are changing now since I have married Sansa. The promise that I made to protect and honor her was honest and I want to stay true to my word to her as her husband. I have a responsibility towards her, and it's been taking precedence over any other need to stay here.

"Yes," I finally answer her, "I would take us away from here if I were given the chance." I make sure my point gets across that we would be going together.

I can almost see her body lose it's tension and she nods her head with a soft thank you. My wife had an unwanted conversation with Joffery earlier today and I know he is the cause for her unrest and need for reassurance. I can see her hand in the darkness move across the space between us and I bring my hand to meet it. It's such a small touch, just two of each of our fingers meet and twine but it seems to satisfy her like it does me, and I can hear that she finds sleep not long after.

One would think after so many years that I would be able to brush off peoples snickers directed towards me. But with my wife next to me, it only makes me more annoyed. "Ser Eldrick Sarsfield and Lord Desmond Crakehall." I mutter to myself.

"What are you doing?" Sansa questions from beside me.

"I have a list."

"A list of people you mean to kill?" she says in disbelief.

"For laughing at me? Do I look like Joffrey to you? No, death seems a bit extreme. Fear of death, on the other hand..."

"You should learn to ignore them."

"My lady, people have been laughing at me far longer than they've been laughing at you. I'm the Halfman, the Demon Monkey, the Imp."

"You're a Lannister. I am the disgraced daughter of the traitor Ned Stark." I hate hearing her have to speak in such a way towards her father.

"The disgraced daughter and the Demon Monkey. We're perfect for each other." I smile up at her.

Sansa looks at me with a small smile in return and a tinkling laugh. Her laugh is not mocking like it is with so many others, but happy. As if she were pleased with my statement. My chest grows warm at the sound.

Sansa questions, "So how should we punish them?"

"Who? Whom?"

"Ser Eldrick Sarsfield and Lord Desmond Crakehall."

"I could speak to Lord Varys and learn their perversions. Anyone named Desmond Crakehall must be a pervert."

She turns and gives me a teasing look, "I hear that you're a pervert."

"I am the Imp. I have certain standards to maintain."

I stop for a moment and she turns to me, "But on that note, Sansa, I want you to know I will not disgrace you with my perversions. I am your husband and," I quieted my voice, "while we do not share our bed the way husband and wife do, I will not lay with another woman either." I give a nod of finality and continue to walk.

It is true that I have chosen to be loyal to my wife in all regards. Shae may have been important to me and I had once wished that things could be different for us, but they are not. Sansa is my wife now and she is the one that should, and does, fill my thoughts. After Shae left Sansa's service not long after we were wed, it has gotten easier day by day to let her slip out of my mind, and to let her go.

Sansa has returned to my side and she quietly thanks me. "I will be loyal to you as well, Tyrion," she adds in a near whisper and I look up at her and smile. Look at us, a pair of married celibates, how fitting. She looks excited then and moves to sit on a bench a few steps ahead.

"We could sheep shift Lord Desmond's bed." I must have a confused look on my face, so she explains. "You cut a little hole in his mattress and you stuff sheep dung inside. Then you sew up the hole and make his bed again. His room will stink, but he won't know where it's coming from." She has such a self satisfied look on her face, it's beautiful.

"Lady Sansa!" I said in mock surprise.

"My sister used to do that when she was angry with me. And she was always angry with me."

"Why sheep shift?" I had a feeling what the answer would be.

She leaned towards me as if to tell me a secret, "That's the vulgar word for dung."

I was right, "My lady..."

"Well, you asked me."

I chuckle, "My lady, I believe the word you are meaning is 'shit' not shift.'"

A look of realization passes over her face followed quickly by embarrassment. Her cheeks are as red as the roses.

"You must think me such a fool."

"Oh no no, my dear." I reach a hand up and run the backs of my fingers along her cheek, "I think you endearing and charming. Your innocence is sweet, Sansa, and I love it. But, I will admit it is also a pleasure to taint some of that sweetness from time to time." I give her a wicked grin and take her hand to have her continue our walk. It's been a glorious morning spent with my wife.

I should have known that it wouldn't last. Our happiness will always be destined to shatter.

I tried my best to comfort my wife in the following days...but she wouldn't have me. The ice that grew up between us was so thick I was afraid I had lost her forever and our friendship that we had built up within the walls of our chamber. I couldn't even begin to make up for the loss that she had suffered and the hatred for the Lannister name had once again included me. My stomach is sick with the thought that she will never believe me when I tell her I had no hand in this.

She demanded solitude and shied away from my touch when I got close enough. In our shared bed at night was the only time I was allowed within arms length of Sansa. It was the most painful time of day at that, for I had to lay there and listen to my wife cry herself to sleep. Whether she wanted my words or not, I always ended our nights with whispers of comfort and wishes that her sleep was undisturbed. I will weather this storm with her the best that I can. I can't bear to see my wife drown.

I am a fool.

How could I possibly let myself believe that things could be good in this wretched place. I'm still a silly little girl who is easily charmed, who can be tricked so simply. The Lannisters...damn them all. I've lost everything since coming here. My family...

My chest is so tight I feel like I'm being choked, that the life is being squeezed out of me and I wouldn't fight it. I'd let death come. There is nothing here left for me.

Tyrion.

He comes to mind in an instant and I try my hardest to push him out, he's one of them, he's the enemy. My chest gets even tighter and I bury my face in my pillow to hide my tears. no, he can't be the enemy, he can't.

I've been in a haze of grief since I was told of what happened. I haven't been able to focus on anything and all I want is to be left alone. But he comes to me. He sits with me still, even through my cold silence he stays. I can't accept any of his kindness now, my pain won't allow me.

I feel so betrayed by my own body because I want nothing more than to let his touches linger. To let him comfort me. I know what his comfort feels like now and I want it. He has been nothing but quiet and gentle since I was told of my family and there is a war raging inside my head now because of it. He is a Lannister. He is the family of the ones who had a hand in the brutal murder of my mother and brother. He is also my husband. The man who I let cover me in the morning and who has spent countless hours trying to get me to smile. Who has suffered willingly through my silence. He is the man who has never hurt me.

There's a war because I feel if I take comfort in him it will be a dishonor to my family.

I can hear him in our rooms. He walks to the bed, to my side where I am laying and I see him place a pure white flower down on the side table that is within my view. He turns and sees me watching him. He looks caught and he's frozen in place for a few moments. I hold his gaze and he gives me his smile, the hurt one that he has been wearing since this hell has fallen on me. I say nothing and he nods his head and exits the room without a word.

I lay there staring at the flower for hours.

It was on a day full of grief and solitude that my husband entered our chambers to find me sitting at our table with two cups and a jug of wine. Waiting for him. He looked shocked and didn't say anything for so long that I began to regret this, thinking he would like to spend the evening with me after all of my coldness towards him. But then he laughed and grinned at me so wide I could see all his teeth. I let out the breath I was holding and slowly push out his chair with one bare foot. My body relaxes as Tyrion walks towards me, already starting to tell me one of his silly tales.

After so much pain and heartache and doing my best to shut myself away from this wicked place, here in our rooms with my husband I can feel my chest clench but not in pain this time. I think it will be starting to heal. He may be a Lannister by name, but he is not one by heart. He is my husband. My friend. My tame lion who fills my cup with wine and my heart with peace. Who gave me a flower when I would accept nothing else from him.

It is late and we have crawled into bed at last. After Tyrion saw me waiting for him it was as if a great weight was lifted off his small shoulders. He stood taller and smiled brighter than ever before. I was quiet most of the night, which didn't deter him in the slightest. All I wanted was to sit and soak up the warmth he was giving off. I may be a child of the North but I have come to treasure the warmth of my friend.

It will not disgrace my family if I go to my husband for support. I won't let my fears and my pain blind me from his honest kindness. Everyone else may see him as a half man, a monster, but I know better.

I turn on my side to look at Tyrion and he's there looking back. My heart starts to beat harder in my chest but I ignore it before I lose my nerve. I reach towards him and the arm that is closest to me and raise it up by the pillow and I take it's place by his side and I rest my head on his shoulder.

He is so warm. Warmer than his laughter and his cheeky grins. He stays still as I settle in place nestled down into his side. Slowly, likely in fear of scaring me away, he raises his other arm and places it on my shoulder blade and I can feel his other hand move onto the back of my head and smooth out my hair.

And I begin to cry.

Oh, my Sansa. I fear that I may never be fully prepared for her actions. I'm always left standing in surprise with her.

It has been a long and taxing day being forced to share my company with people I care very little for because it is expected of me. I feel so drained and it gets worse a little each day. My lady Sansa has filled my thoughts and I live in constant worry for her. There is nothing I can do to ease her pain and I feel so inadequate as her husband. Surely there should be something I could do, but she wants nothing from me. It pains me to say that I do not blame her. I will always be grouped in with my family and their wicked deeds whether I took a part in them or not. I am not a stranger to hating my family. It's such an easy thing to do.

I was able to sneak away for a moment that morning and I went to the gardens. My wife will not take my words or my physical comfort but I will give her something sweet to look at. I pick the purest flower I can find and I make the journey to our rooms. I know she will be there.

I try to stay quiet if she is still in bed where I left her this morning. I walk to her side and place the flower on her nightstand where she will see it and I turn to leave. But she is there looking at me from the bed. Oh how I wish there was something I could say that wouldn't make her turn away from me. But there isn't and I'm resided to that fact so I leave as quietly as I came.

When the day finally reaches an end I return to our chambers after requesting our supper be brought up. Maybe tonight I can finally convince my wife to eat a full meal and not just bits of bread and cheese. I sigh heavily, I do not want to watch her waste away.

What I find upon entering our rooms is not at all what I had expected. My dear Sansa is sitting at our table and appears to have been waiting for me. With wine. I'm frozen in place, my vision narrowing down to just my wife. She looks anxious sitting there with her hands folded in her lap, but she doesn't look lost to grief like I have seen her so often these past days. It fills me with hope and I can't keep my smile from breaking forth.

I close the door to our rooms and walk to my wife, "You will never believe what I saw today. You know that idiot Crakehall? I saw him out walking today and the great lout wasn't watching what he was doing and walked himself right into a bush! I'll have you know I reacted in a dignified manner suited to my station...I'm lying, my dear Sansa, I haven't laughed so hard in my life. I wish you could have been there to see it." She doesn't laugh but she looks more relaxed and she is smiling at me now with humor in her eyes. I take great pleasure in putting that look there. I settle in my seat and she pours us both a cup of wine.

I take a moment just to drink in the sight of her sitting with me again. I have missed this. I've missed her. I fear I have become dependent on our time spent together. Finding a friend in her has given me an escape from the life I live in King's Landing. I wish to be given the chance to take her away from here someday. Soon. Her innocence has no place here.

I keep my tone soft, "I have missed you, Sansa." I couldn't keep the words from her.

I can see the tears forming in her eyes but she doesn't let them fall. She nods her head yes a couple times and I know she feels the same. She puts one of her hands on the table between us in a subtle offering for me to take. I am more than welcome to oblige and I lay my hand lightly on top of hers.

We spend our night quietly drinking our wine and I keep my conversation light and humorous and Sansa speaks very little, but it does not bother me. She has chosen to spend the evening with me and that's all that matters right now.

When my wife's eyes grow tired I stand and offer my hand to my lady and lead her to our bed and undress for the night. I've settled down into the pillows and turn to wish Sansa a good night, but she reaches for my arm and the words die out. We've never intentionally touched one another while laying in bed before, I knew any touch from me would be unwanted, but she's curling up to me now with her head on my shoulder and it is surreal.

Without thought my arms curve around her and I thread my fingers through her hair, and it is as soft as I remember it from our wedding night.

I feel her body start to tremble and she begins to cry.

Oh, my dear Sansa. My arms tighten around her and I stroke her hair in a soothing manner. She has come into my arms seeking comfort and I will do my best to give her that. It hurts to see her like this, the strong woman I know she is. Yet, a part of me is pleased that she has sought me out. It may be only from of a lack of anyone else to turn to, but I will take it regardless.

I let her mourn. I don't try to quiet her down or sooth her with false, meaningless words. I simply rub her arm and back and continue to let my fingers play with her hair. I feel a tear of my own run down my cheek and into my pillow. I rest my lips on her brow and a sweet melody I heard played not long ago comes to my mind and I begin to hum it to her, and she curls tighter to my side.

We're laying on our sides facing one another and my head is resting on his forearm, his other arm is curled over my waist. My eyes feel sore and heavy from my crying the night before but my chest feels lighter and the tightness that was squeezing the life out of me is gone. The pain from the loss of my family is still there but it is no longer killing me.

I was right in my decision to come to my husband, my friend, for the comfort that I know he's been wanting to give me.

Being this close to him I can see his scar in more detail. It cuts deep into his cheek and brow. I run the pad of my finger along the part below his eye, his skin is softer than it looks. His forehead wrinkles as he begins to wake up. I can see the moment when he realizes that I'm touching his scarred face, a look of shame and embarrassment takes over his features. He pulls his face away from my hand and looks away.

"I know I'm not a sight you'd wish to see in the morning, my lady." He tries to turn over and away from me but I grip his shoulder in protest.

"Stop. Your face is not something new to me, Tyrion." I don't tell him things he knows are not true, that he is handsome, but he needs to understand that his looks no longer bother me and I do not mind waking up to him. I put my hand back to his scar with my thumb resting on the deepest part. The look he is giving me makes my heart beat a little harder, as if he is amazed by my actions. I lean in and press a small kiss to his other cheek for good measure. When I rest my head back to his arm his mouth is hanging open and I laugh quietly.

I reach down for the covers and I bring them up to our ears and I close my eyes again and get comfortable.

"Is it a day you wish to stay in bed, my lady?" he asks me.

"It is a morning we shall both stay in bed." I reply. I feel his hand at my waist move to my back and settle there.

Some time later I hear a handmaid enter but leave shortly after when neither of us acknowledge her presence. It's a peaceful morning for both of us.

I had decided to visit Tyrion in his solar one afternoon. After walking about the gardens with lady Margaery I wanted to sit quietly to read and while Tyrion does his work I'm able to find a comfortable corner to settle into. He smiled when I came in and I reassured him I wasn't there to bother him, just wanted his quiet company.

Bronn had joined us some time later and was lazying about in one of the chairs. Every so ofter he'd lean forward and start messing with things on Tyrion's desk.

Bronn spoke up suddenly, "Ahh, the famous Podrick. I'm sure you'll be tickled to know that there's still talk of you down at the brothel." I look up and see Podrick standing in the open archway.

"Now is not the time, Bronn." My husband says with an apologetic look towards me. I smile and shake my head at him.

"I don't believe this is a discussion I wish to be present for." Podrick failed to notice my presence in the corner and he steps back in shock and looks like he stopped breathing. I move past him to my husband at his desk and lean down to kiss his cheek, "I'll see you later tonight, I'm sure."

Podrick's not the only one sporting a shocked look; Tyrion gives me a stunned nod of his head. "Yes, of course, Sansa."

I smile and turn to leave and Bronn is chuckling as he gives me a wicked grin. I give my goodbyes as I walk out, "Good day, gentlemen."

I'll take my book reading somewhere a little more quiet where I don't have to listen to what I'm sure will shape up to be an inappropriate conversation for the three men. I do acknowledge quietly to myself that I got satisfaction from showing affection towards my husband where others could see and not just in our rooms alone. Showing others, and my husband, that I'm not miserable in my marriage.

Things are once again changing between Tyrion and I. On the walk back to the gardens I hug my book to my chest and smile.