Thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favorites! It warms my heart and keeps this story going! I'm getting dangerously close to having to change the rating to this story to "M". I'm still not sure how far into detail I'm going to go with those scenes, but they will be coming soon!

SANSA

She found some peace in embroidering. She'd been taught to sew intricate designs on various materials at a young age. Since Tyrion left their chambers early in the morning to get back to his duties as Hand of the Queen, Sansa had been left in their quarters with little to entertain herself. She perused her husband's large collection of books, trying to find something that would keep her entertained for a while. When her newly assigned handmaiden arrived to bring her breakfast, she asked if there was anything else she could get for her. She didn't know why, but fabric and sewing equipment was the first thing out of her mouth.

She'd picked up a piece of grey cotton, a rather dull piece, but she had an idea in mind for it already. She sat on the window seat in a comfortable pink silk dress, her feet up in front of her on the bench, enjoying the feeling of air between her toes. She smiled lightly to herself as she stitched into the fabric, watching her vision come to life slowly thanks to her skilful fingers. She heard footsteps approaching the door, and quickly put away her work. She didn't want anyone to see it, yet. She expected her handmaiden would be back to collect her breakfast dishes, and was surprised when the door opened without a knock.

"Tyrion, I thought you were helping the Queen today, have you forgotten something?" He walked towards the table where the remnants of her breakfast sat, and helped himself to a grape before answering. "I was under the same impression, my Lady. It seems that her grace has a big day in court and will not be requiring my assistance today. It appears as though you get me to yourself for another day. Unless you had made other plans for yourself, of course I can find some other work to do." He added quickly, clearly not wanting her to feel forced. "That sounds wonderful" she smiled, "what would you like to do?" He seemed to think about that for a moment. "You look rather comfortable, and I am sore from my long walk this morning. Would you mind spending the day here with your old crippled husband?" He asked with mock sadness. She couldn't help but laugh at his expression. "I suppose I could survive the torture, my dear husband", she winked. She got up from her seat by the window and stretched her muscles delicately. She walked over to one of the sitting room chairs where they had sat together only a few nights before.

They played a few card games and laughed for hours. The wine definitely helped with the laughing portion. After their lunch had been cleared up by their handmaidens, Sansa got up and stretched again. Her joints were aching from sitting for so long. The wine must have been stronger than she thought, because she felt light headed and found the room around her spinning. She woke up on the ground, staring up at Tyrion. His face was half concerned, and half amused. "Can't hold your liquor, Lady Lannister?" Despite herself, she started laughing hysterically. She looked at Tyrion again, and her laughter increased at the sight of his increasing concern and fading amusement. In truth, she wasn't entirely sure why she was laughing. She finally calmed down enough to face Tyrion, still crouched over her. His eyes were boring into hers, the amusement showing once again. I can hold your gaze longer than you can, she sang in her mind. As she stared at him, his eyes grew more serious; the amusement was gone and was replaced by an electrifying intensity. She could feel her features reflecting his. Before she could think twice about it, she pulled him down with her and kissed him fiercely. He was clearly stunned and pulled away after a moment. She felt a sudden pang of rejection, and looked into her husband's eyes. His face was full of confusion. She saw lust there, the passion and wanting that she's caught him in before. But she also saw pain and uncertainty. He looked as though he was about to return the kiss when he stopped himself, with much difficulty, and stood up. He held out his hand to help her up.

"Not like this." She took his hand, hurt and confused. She felt the tears well up in her eyes. "Like what?" She wished the pain in her voice wasn't as thick as she spoke. Tyrion took her hand and led her back to the lounge chaise and motioned for her to sit with him. She looked at him expectantly before he spoke. He took her hands in his and stared at them. "Sansa, I know what was done to you in Winterfell. You're still having nightmares about it." She knew he was right; the nightmares haunted her nearly every night since her escape. She said nothing but averted her eyes to their hands. "I will not make you engage in any physical aspect of a marriage until you are ready; and I certainly will not take advantage of you while you're drunk." Such a gallant gentleman, she thought sarcastically.

She looked back at his face, still twisted in concern. "I am not asking you to sleep with me tonight." It was his turn to look down, a flash of regret on his face. He does desire me, then. "But I would like for our marriage to progress to something more than just the odd kiss and hand holding. Yes, the past has hurt me, but the present and the future can heal me. You can heal me, Tyrion…" His dumbfounded expression indicated that he still didn't fully understand what she was saying. She sighed and tried again. "As you are aware already, the only knowledge I have is far from pleasant. I'm not expecting it to be fun or enjoyable, but I would like to experience making love the way a man and woman who love one another do it." Understanding finally crossed his features. "Sansa… you should know that I have very little self-control around you. I find it very difficult to resist you, especially when you attack me like you did." He said with a hint of humour. She was feeling quite bold. She didn't know if it was the wine or the kiss, but she leaned in until their faces were less than an inch apart. "Then don't resist" she started with a sultry voice, "if anything becomes painful or uncomfortable, I promise to tell you." She leaned in the rest of the way and kissed his neck.

"S—Sansa, please, stop. I don't want to hurt you!" He finally shouted. Stunned, she pulled away. He stood and walked towards his desk, needing to calm down. "I don't want to hurt you…" He repeated, this time his voice thick with sadness. "Sansa I…" Where is this going? He took a deep, steadying breath. "Sansa, I do not expect you to feel the same. You have been through so much already and I know that I still need to earn your trust and your affections," he continued. "Tyrion, can you get to the point, please? You're tearing me apart." He hesitated for a moment, pulled on his shirt to straighten it, straightened his posture, and walked right up to Sansa. She looked up at him and waited. Did he change his mind? Does he want out of this marriage? He knelt down on one knee, looked her in the eye and took her hand in his one more time.

"Sansa Lannister of house Stark, I'm afraid I have some rather unsettling news." For a moment she was petrified, until he leaned in and kissed her wedding ring. "I am irreversibly in love with you."

I know I'm a jerk for leaving it there! But cliff-hanger endings keep you reading! Thank you to my fellow shippers for the continued support. Hope you're enjoying the story so far!