Author's Note: This is just a short little tidbit to tide you over until the next little tidbit. Moment of truth, dear readers: I still have to finish the last bit…and I haven't really been writing on it as I have been focused on the school thing/teaching thing. So, bear with me as we make our way to the end of this fic!

Chapter 9: In which there is a wedding and some tears.

Three months after her confrontation with Tywin, Sansa was finally beginning to put the pieces of her shattered heart back together. Though the world had not ended, it had, in many ways, moved on without her.

Without further encouragement, Willas and Osha had met each other head on in an explosive display of wills and passion. Willas had proposed a month later, to Olenna's despair and Margaery's delight, and two months after that, their wedding day arrived. She hadn't been much help in the planning of the affair, but she had helped Olenna with the invitations.

Her first meeting with the Tyrell matriarch had been something of a disaster, though.

"So you're the girl carrying Tywin's bastard, and you're also the reason why my eldest grandson is marrying some Northern wildling. You've got a brass set on you, my girl. Take care not to try your machinations on me."

Sansa, though mortified by the woman's comments, refused to be walked over like a rug, "I was never inclined towards people of your age or sex, anyway." The fact that Tywin was at least a decade younger than Olenna was a technicality that Sansa clung to.

The woman had absorbed the hit, letting out a small chuckle. "It appears he rubbed more than his seed off on you, my girl. Margaery's been twittering in my ear about you, how broken you are, but you're not broken at all." Olenna advanced on her, but Sansa held her ground, not flinching away or looking down. The women appraised each other silently for a moment. "You've still got that Stark ice keeping you hard. It would take more than the scorn of that old fool to break you."

While Sansa looked back on the encounter with no small amount of embarrassment, what Olenna said had, in a way, been the making of her.

Her recovery had accelerated, her interest in life was renewed, and thoughts of Tywin were accompanied by a deep-rooted feeling of love instead of pain. She did not blame him for his cruelty, but she no longer flogged herself with it. For the rest of her life, Sansa would carry with her memories filled with profound love and joy, and in the darks hours of the night they would shine all the brighter.

However, the wedding presented no small amount of trouble for her future plans. Tywin would avoid all mention of the Tyrell's, he would more than likely bin his courtesy invitation to the wedding (sending it was a move calculated to make him angry enough not to read the damn thing), but there was still a chance of discovery. So, it was decided that she would be the third wheel on her friends' honeymoon to Dorne, which would provide her with some security (Tywin hated Dorne, and though he did business with the Martells, he avoided them whenever possible). She would also still have Osha's services for the next few months that remained of her pregnancy.

Overall, Sansa should have been feeling secure about the whole thing, but trepidation lurked in the back of her mind.

The ceremony was nothing short of beautiful. As Sansa wiped a few tears away from her eyes, she was sorry that her parents had sent their regrets (and their confused congratulations). Her mother loved weddings, and she had known her father to become teary-eyed at them as well.

She watched as Willas wrapped Osha in his rose-emblazoned cloak, and smiled fondly when Osha cheekily draped her cloak (one that Sansa had embroidered with spears and direwolves) around his shoulders. As the couple walked back down the aisle, she saw Willas lean ever so slightly into his bride. He had confided in her a few days before the wedding that he wanted to be married without the aid of a cane. "Bad enough that I have to use the damn thing everywhere else, Sansa. I'll be damned if I have to drag it up to the septon with me. Osha will support me if I need her to."

Sansa recalled his declaration as she watched Osha do precisely that. The guests began to follow behind the newlyweds. She moved to join the crowd, but was stopped by a hand grasping her elbow.

"Not so fast, Miss Stark. We need to have a chat."

Author's Note Part II: Now, who could that be?