As promised: here is chapter 14, roughly 3 years late. I started it back in 2015 and finished it yesterday and today. Hope you all enjoy it!

SANSA

She woke up to the warm sunshine against her bare back and her husband's warm chest against her cheek. This… this is what I should have felt like the morning after my wedding night; loved, warm, and whole. The morning after her wedding to Ramsay she felt torn, broken, and humiliated. This was so completely different. She never knew it could feel so good. She'd never experienced pleasure like that before and she was suddenly thankful, instead of jealous, of Tyrion's proficiency.

It had been like a dream. They laughed, drank, ate dinner in bed, and talked until nightfall. They discussed their dreams, their fantasies, and their pasts. They held nothing back. She heard about his few happy childhood memories, most of which included Jaime, none included Cersei or Tywin. He listened about her life growing up in the North, how she and Arya were always at each other's throats, how her septa always commended her on her stitching… Talking about it in that way made her miss how it was. Now she wasn't sure she ever wanted to see it again.

He sympathized with her. Winterfell had been the first and only home she knew before she left for King's Landing. Though he had few fond memories at Casterly Rock, it was his ancestral home as Winterfell was Sansa's. Neither could return, yet neither could forget the place that built them. Unlike him though, her childhood was full of wonderful moments that were now tainted by her marriage to Ramsay.

"I was angry, you know?" Sansa started, not making eye contact with him. "I was angry with Littlefinger, terribly mad that I had trusted him, and full of hate for Roose and Ramsay. I felt betrayed by everyone around me. I know this is going to sound foolish after the way I reacted when I saw you again, especially after the way I begged you to be my husband again. But I didn't do those things because I was a meek little girl who needed someone's protection. I am very much changed by my circumstances. I was angry, yes. But now I am wise. Now, I am strong and I am not going to stand by and hide in a corner behind some man any longer." She looked at him square in the eyes then. "Tyrion, I have been used, played with, and broken more times than I can count. You stood up for me when no one else could, or would. You mock your own stature yet to me you're the largest man I've known since my father. The Joffreys, the Ramsays, the Littlefingers… they're all roaches in your shadow."

Sansa started to undo the small lacings in the front of her dress and leaned forward. Tyrion tried to keep his eyes on hers but found this task to be nearly impossible. She paused, and smiled at him. "I asked you to be my husband because I know that you respect me. You always have. Even when we were first wed and I dreamed of knights and princes, I was never afraid of you. I never had to look over my shoulder or worry that you'd force yourself on me or hurt me. You never made me feel like I was just a contract between our houses. Despite our differences and my obvious distaste of our union, all I experienced was kindness – the likes of which I've never known outside of Winterfell. Tyrion, you were my safe haven, and you still are. I don't want you to protect me because I'm weak, I want you by my side because we're stronger together than we could ever be apart."

Unable to stop, giving in to his baser urges and finally allowing himself to fully feel what he felt, Tyrion cupped his wife's face between his hands, and pulled her in for a long, sweet kiss. His head screamed at him that she wasn't, couldn't be, ready for this yet. But she answered his question with her body. She wasn't afraid of giving herself to him, she trusted this man down to the depths of her soul. He pulled her down into the bed next to him and they laid there kissing, exploring each other for the first time. Both were surprised by how comfortable they were together and they fit together perfectly. Like two broken pieces finally being mended.

It was the most peaceful sleep she'd had in years: dreamless, deep, and restful. She felt rejuvenated and at ease. Still half-asleep, she slowly stretched her arms and legs. She was pleasantly sore from the previous night's activity. Activities, she corrected, blushing and smiling to herself as the memories came back to her. As she slowly reached consciousness she felt her husband move.

Tyrion turned his head towards Sansa and opened his eyes sleepily. Upon seeing her face he smiled. "Good morning, wife." He stretched his limbs and planted a kiss on her lips.

"Good morning, my Lord" she replied coyly. Neither made a move to get up, though their breakfast had been laid out by very quiet handmaidens. It smelled delicious and Sansa's stomach started to growl. Tyrion laughed and pulled on a pair of trousers after rolling off their newly christened bed.

"I did not realize I had caused you such famine with our activities last night." He said with a smile as he filled a platter with various cheeses, sausages, bacon, bread and fruit. He carried it back to the bed, where Sansa had straightened herself into a sitting position. She felt herself beaming at her husband and gratefully grabbed a fresh roll from the platter he placed in the middle of the bed. She had no plans to get out of this place today.

"I like to think I played a small part in my own state of starvation." She said with feigned injury to her ego before biting into breakfast. Tyrion chuckled and they ate in peaceful silence until a knock interrupted them. "Shhh. Pretend we're still asleep." Sansa whispered conspiratorially to Tyrion.

He winked at her before calling: "Who is it?" He made it clear with his tone that he was annoyed at the interruption. It was quite late in the morning, however, and they weren't expecting to be interrupted so soon after the queen's departure.

"Podrick, m'lord. It's urgent." Tyrion looked at Sansa, who rolled her eyes and covered herself in her shift and the blankets on the bed. Tyrion pulled on his shirt and made his way to the door. He took one last glance towards the bed to make sure that his wife was decently covered and, satisfied, opened the door.

"What could possibly be so urgent that you would disturb a -" Podrick's expression stopped him mid-sentence. "Pod… what's happened?"