Author's Note: Hello, my lovelies! This is just a little tidbit to put you on edge for the next chapter (which I have written and will post in a few days). I'm not trying to drag this ouch so much as give myself time to finish the fic…I was bitten by another plot bunny, so I need to wrap this up before I become too distracted! Please, enjoy the cliffhanger, it's a doozy!
Chapter 12: In which Sansa goes after Tywin.
Sansa blinked, shocked by his sudden departure. That was not how she had envisioned their meeting when she boarded the Tyrells' company jet with the intention of flying to King's Landing. But, now that she thought about it, what she had imagined seemed equally improbable, if not impossible. She had hoped that he would listen to her, that they would make up…
Clearly, her hopes were too high.
Curious to see what he was doing, she followed him and was unsurprised when she found him in his study. Tywin preferred to fight from a position of power, and he always felt more secure when he was surrounded by emblems of his might. His shelves were filled with awards and various pictures of important men and women posing with him. This room reminded its occupants to tread lightly lest they provoke the wrath of the lion of Casterly Rock. Sansa could not afford to heed such warnings now, not when she had her future to fight for.
"I hadn't thought to be the cause of driving you to drink."
He refused to answer, merely poured more whiskey into the tumbler and drank it down silently.
"Tywin, please, can't we talk?"
"And what would we speak of, Mrs. Tyrell?" His voice attacked her with its cruel intensity. "I cannot imagine why you are even here when you should be flitting off to some tropical island for your honeymoon."
Disdain dripped from his every word, but Sansa held firm. "I won't be going anywhere for my honeymoon."
"Why would that be? I was unaware that your husband guarded his expenses so closely. Perhaps some secret vice has given him shallow pockets?" His sneering tone implied that Willas' imagined vice was of the female sort, but she waved away his bait. It was time for the first painful truth of the evening. "I won't be going on a honeymoon, but Willas and his wife are making their way to Dorne as we speak."
Sansa watched as Tywin's eyes hardened and his fists clenched. "Perhaps you might explain what the fuck that means, Miss Stark, and explain it quickly."