Shae could hardly sleep that night. Her mind raced, tormented by her emotions. Her jealousy was driving her mad. He was her lion; he had said the words to her first— "I am yours and you are mine." But she was a kept woman, a whore, as she was constantly reminded for years. Sansa was a highborn girl who was perfect for a highborn man.
She didn't want to go into the room, but she had no other excuse to keep her away except for her envy. Carrying the breakfast tray, she was followed by Bernadette and Mya, who brought clean linens for the bed. She knew they would both run off to tell the queen and Hand once their tasks were done.
Bronn was sitting, leaning his head against the wall. Had the fool fallen asleep? No, she knew better. He would have heard them coming. Certain enough, he turned his head towards them as they approached, an impish look on his face. "I swear I heard a wolf howling last night, ladies. Careful in there," he jested, and Shae gave him a darkened glare as she knocked on the door.
There was no answer, so Shae knocked once more before opening the door herself. As she walked into the room, she could smell the faint smell of cum. Trying to keep her temper in check, she set the food tray down and approached the bed, noting that the bed curtain was drawn. She cleared her throat loudly.
"My lady, we have brought breakfast."
As she heard movement, she also noted that Bernadette was whispering something to Mya. Good, let them gossip and tell their benefactors. Perhaps then her lion would finally be left alone by his family.
The bed curtain moved back, Tyrion sliding out dressed only in his shift. His eyes met Shae's, and she took some pleasure in seeing guilt reflected in them. She approached, tying the curtains back as he slid out of the bed and walked over to his drawers. "My wife will need a bath drawn this morning," he said in the direction of the other maids. "Will one of you send for Podrick to assist in bringing the water up?"
Bernadette curtsied, leaving the room to find the squire. Shae turned her attention back to the bed, Sansa's sleeping form still curled on her side under the covers. Shae felt her anger dissolve some as she watched her. Walking around the bed to the other side, she reached out and touched Sansa's shoulder. "My lady, it's time to wake."
Sansa's blue eyes opened, and she pushed the sheets back as she sat up. Shae noted she was also in her shift still. As her young charge stood, she felt a rush of heat at the red stain on the bed, and also on her shift. Reaching for her dressing robe, she held it out for Sansa to put on. "Your lord husband has ordered for a bath to be made for you," she said softly, trying to hide her frustration. She looked over at Mya, who was watching them intently. "Take the sheets to the laundry, Mya," she ordered, as she saw Tyrion enter the garderobe and shut the door.
After Mya gathered the bedding and left the room, she led Sansa over to the table. "My lady, how are you feeling?"
Sansa's fair cheeks turned pink as she picked up a piece of bread and nibbled on it. "I feel fine, he was gentle with me last night."
Shae felt both relieved and jealous. She could see that Sansa told the truth, she didn't look to be in pain or shame. But she also was envious, since it had been a few weeks since she and her lion had been together. Would he come back to her now that his duty was done? Or would he set her aside and fall in love with his young, innocent wife?
She turned back towards the garderobe door, which was still closed. Looking back at Sansa, she leaned in, her voice low. "My lady, if you wish, I can bring you something to prevent pregnancy."
Sansa stopped midbite, looking shocked. "What are you talking about?"
"You are still so young, and your families are at war. Do you really want to have a child by your enemy?"
Sansa set her food down, clasping her hands together as if in deep thought. "If the gods deem that I should have a child now, then so be it. And perhaps my child could help end the war, bringing our families together."
Shae sighed, shaking her head. "That is a foolish thought, my lady."
Sansa's eyes turned cold, and she could sense Cersei's influence take hold. "It is not a servant's place to tell her lady what to do. You are dismissed for the morning." She turned her face away from her, and Shae stood, giving a curtsy.
"My apologies, my lady."
By the time Sansa finished her breakfast, the bathtub had been brought out from the garderobe and filled, and the dressing screen placed around it. Mya came back and put fresh sheets on the bed, and Bernadette helped undress Sansa. She felt embarrassed as she realized her shift had a small blood stain on it, and her upper thighs as well. She used a rag to clean the area before climbing in the tub. The warm water felt good around her, and she leaned back, letting her hair fall over the back of the tub.
Tyrion had already changed while she had eaten and was now sitting at the table having his breakfast. The screen blocked her view of him, and his of her. Bernadette was brushing her hair, which seemed messier than usual. She blushed as she realized why. Thankfully, her handmaid did not mention anything about it.
As she started to relax in the warm water, she thought back on last night. She told Shae the truth; Tyrion had been gentle. The pain of her maidenhead had been nothing compared to the beatings Joffrey had ordered done to her. His touch on her skin, the kisses that followed… she felt her body growing warm thinking of it, and she sat up, startling Bernadette.
"I'm sorry, my lady," she said, letting go of her hair.
"Oh, no, I just needed to sit up," Sansa replied, realizing her maid must have thought she hurt her head on a tangle. "My back was suddenly uncomfortable."
"Would you like to wash your hair today, since you're already in the tub?"
Still facing away from her, Sansa nodded in agreement, and slid under the water, hoping it would cool her thoughts. Coming back up, she let Bernadette scrub her scalp and hair clean. But she couldn't help but think how Tyrion's brushing her hair had felt so different. Perhaps he would do it again tonight? She blushed at the realization that she wanted him to touch her again. How could she want that if she wasn't in love with him? These feelings were all so new. They hadn't even kissed on the lips since the one in the sept, and that had been so impersonal.
Bringing her legs up so she could fold her arms and rest her chin on them, she pondered on that thought. Why hadn't he kissed her last night? Was it because he wanted to let her imagine he was a normal man, someone like Loras? He had said in the dark, he could be just like any other man. She had been put off that he was a dwarf, not understanding how they would be able to consummate, especially since she was taller than other girls her age. But he proved last night that height mattered not.
Perhaps she could find someone to talk to about her thoughts. Margery was always honest with her, but she was still a maiden, her own wedding night being almost two moon turns away. She wouldn't be able to help her process these emotions. There was the queen, but Cersei seemed to despise being married to King Robert, and she referred to using her womanhood as a weapon. That was far from what Sansa was feeling.
Lady Olenna! She was a widow, and she was always open and blunt with Sansa. The elderly woman made Sansa feel comfortable to talk to, and she hadn't told anyone about what she said about Joffrey. She had proven she was trustworthy after that moment of weakness, when she admitted to her and Margery that the king was a monster.
"Mya," Sansa called out, turning to look behind her. The girl came close, having finished making the bed. "Can you send word to Lady Olenna, that I would like to visit with her?"
"Yes, m'lady," she replied, curtsying, and leaving the room.
"If she invites you for a visit, I'll let Ser Bronn know that you'll be safe among her hens," Tyrion said from his position at the table. "Just send for Podrick or Ser Bronn when you're ready to return to our chambers."
"Of course," Sansa replied, and then dipped back under the water to rinse her hair. When she sat back up, Bernadette squeezed her hair and pinned it up, and then started scrubbing her back. Sansa made quick work of the rest of her body, and then climbed out. She wondered if Tyrion was trying to sneak a glance, but she was too shy to turn towards the screen. Bernadette led her towards the garderobe, and after she was dressed, Mya had returned.
"Lady Olenna has invited you to the midday meal in her chambers, if it pleases you."
Sansa smiled and nodded. Good. Lady Olena must have sensed that she wanted to talk about sensitive topics, so the privacy of her chambers would be better than the gardens she enjoyed.
Tyrion stood up from the table, having finished eating. "I'll dismiss Ser Bronn then until midday, he can still escort you and your ladies." He approached Sansa, and she felt her heartrate quicken. "I have some Master of Coin business to attend to, so I will leave you to relax this morning." He reached for her hand, which she willingly obliged. He kissed it but lingered a little before pulling away and looking up at her. His eyes seemed to be sparkling, and she felt her cheeks pinken. "Until later, my dear."
Tyrion spent the morning with Podrick, finishing sorting through the ledgers, his notes, and packing them all away. It certainly was tedious business, but he would be glad to be done with it. He would miss playing the mind games in court, he was so good at it, but there were certain to be things to occupy his busy mind at Casterly Rock. His father was adamant about not letting him rule in his own right, but perhaps he could prove himself before a son was born to him.
A son. Would Sansa let him back in her bed again after last night? She did seem to enjoy his attention, and she blushed so prettily when he kissed her hand this morning.
"My lord," Podrick said, his tone suggesting he had been trying to get his attention.
"Hmm, what is it, Pod?" he replied, not looking up from his book.
"Your father has sent word that you shall join him for the midday meal."
Tyrion looked up then, a young servant bowing and leaving the room. Of course the boy wouldn't wait for an answer; it was a command, not an invitation. No doubt news of their bloodied sheets had made its way to his father.
"News travels fast, I see," he said aloud. "Hopefully I'll be able to unload these cases today on Lord Tyrell, and then we'll be packing to leave."
Podrick silently nodded, going back to loading the full crates onto the small cart.
As the morning hours passed and the sun moved overhead, Tyrion decided it was time to abandon the task and start the trek to his father's chambers. Pod followed behind, ever the faithful squire. He was glad the young lad would be going with them to the Rock. Having already saved his life, he was a valuable asset.
Finally reaching his father's chambers, Podrick knocked on the door. "Enter," a commanding voice called, and Pod opened it for Tyrion, letting him in. He shut the door behind him, finding himself alone with his father.
The Lannister patriarch sat already at the head of his table, a chair and plate set to his left for Tyrion. He watched as Tyrion walked over and sat down and started to pour himself a drink.
"So, you finally performed your duty," his father started, looking rather smug. "I expect you to continue until she is for sure with child."
Tyrion raised his glass in mock salute before drinking it. "Yes, I'm sure you have arranged for a wheelhouse that will accommodate such commands."
Tyrion sneered, picking up his knife and fork and cutting into the meat on his plate. "Naturally, Sansa is a highborn lady and a Lannister now. She will need to travel in some comfort."
"Any orders for me to carry out once I've reached the Rock?"
"Don't turn it into a whore house," his father growled between bites.
"I'm a married man, now. I will honor my vows to my wife," Tyrion replied with all seriousness. He meant what he had said. He would not dishonor Sansa.
Tywin scoffed at him. "Time will tell, I suppose."
They continued to eat in silence for a few moments before Tywin spoke again. "Everything has been set to run on its own for now, with your Aunt Gemma overseeing. She will give you tasks if you're wanting to avoid being idle."
"Have I not proven myself while a was hand in your name? And I have been thorough with the finances." Tyrion tried to hide his hurt but was sure his frustration was showing. "What else can I do to show you I can honor the family name at Casterly Rock?"
Tyrion gazed at him darkly. "Give me a healthy grandson to become my heir. The sooner he is born, the sooner you may act as reagent until he is of age."
"Healthy meaning not a dwarf," Tyrion growled, pushing his plate away and sliding out of the chair. "Do not fear, Father. We will strive to fulfill your wishes. No doubt my wife will pray her children were inherit her height, not mine."
As Tyrion started to walk away, Tywin stood and called out loudly, "Tyrion!"
Tyrion stopped and turned back, dreading what he was to hear.
"You will leave in three days. Make sure your affairs are in order here before you leave."
Tyrion simply nodded and left the room, Podrick following quietly behind him.
"Welcome, my dear, please sit," Lady Olenna waved at the seat near her at her round table, and Sansa happily obliged. She gave a courtly curtsy, and the older woman tsked at her. "Come now, you are a Lady Lannister now. No need for such formalities."
Sansa smiled at her and sat down, looking about the room. All the curtains were open, allowing the light to flood the room. It was much larger than her chambers, but as the grandmother of the future queen and the matriarch of a great house, it only made sense she was given grand accommodation. She noted that her handmaidens were nowhere in sight, having already set the table. Good, Lady Olenna had sensed her need for privacy. Sansa had dismissed her own ladies outside in the hall, telling them to return in an hour or so. Bronn insisted on waiting nearby, which gave Sansa some comfort.
"Lemon cakes!" Sansa cheered, her gaze falling on the table. "You remembered, how kind of you."
"One thing about being a lady, no one can scold you for eating your sweets first," Olenna winked, grabbing a piece, and taking a bite. Sansa giggled and followed suit, taking a bite of the tart treat.
"So, my dear, I believe you wanted an audience with me to discuss married life?"
Sansa knew she would be straight to the point. That was why she had chosen her to talk to. But she still almost choked on her food at the woman's bluntness. She took a sip of her goblet, realizing it was a sweet wine.
"Sorry, Sansa, I didn't mean to startle you."
"Oh, no, I'm all right." She took another sip and set the goblet down. "Yes, you are right. I don't have my mother here to ask, and I don't trust the Queen, especially since it involves her brother."
"Ah, yes. Your husband is not the brother she cares to discuss marital activities with." Her tone sounded mocking, and Sansa wondered if she had heard the rumors about Cersei and Jaime. Sansa picked up on whispers here and there, but knew better than to say anything about it, especially after already being labeled the daughter of a traitor. "What is it you would like to know?"
Sansa suddenly felt terribly embarrassed, and felt her face turn warm. "I….um….did you…." She couldn't meet her eyes.
Olenna reached over and patted her hand, a sincere smile on her face. "You can speak your mind, dear, I will not judge you for it. We are just two women alone, and it will be between us."
Sansa sighed, a little relieved with the affirmation. "Did you love your husband when you married?"
Olenna honestly looked a little surprised at the question. "Well, I was not expecting that question. Yes, I loved him well enough. He was an oaf, though. He died while hawking. He wasn't watching where he was going and rode off a cliff, the fool." She laughed, but there seemed to be a touch of sadness in it. "I sense you do not love your husband, which I don't blame you. His family is at war with your own. You have been married to your enemy."
"Margery told me he's far from the worst Lannister, which she is right," Sansa responded. There seemed to a quick change in Lady Olenna's eyes, but it was fleeting. "And she is right. He has always been kind to me, even more so last night."
Olenna leaned back in her chair, a knowing look now on her face. "Ah, so you are truly a married woman then. And judging by your rosy cheeks and question, I assume you wonder if it's all right to enjoy your husband's attentions despite having no love."
Sansa's eyes widened in surprise. The old woman truly was intuitive. Sansa only hoped she could be like her in her old age. "Yes, you are right."
Olenna reached for her goblet, drinking slowly from it. "Love isn't always like the songs and stories you hear. Those are rare. That's why they're made into songs and stories." She took another sip before setting it down. "Most love, especially for highborn ladies such as us, grows. Like a fine wine, it takes time." She leaned back towards Sansa, taking hold of her hand again. "You are lucky that your husband isn't the demon monkey he's rumored to be. If he continues to show you such kindness, you can grow an affection for him."
Sansa picked up another piece of lemon cake, but she picked at it.
"Is there something else?"
Sansa looked back up. "Yes. It's just that…well, I…" Gods, she was having trouble admitting it out loud. "I…enjoyed it."
She laughed. Lady Olenna was laughing at her. "Oh, dear girl, good for you!"
Sansa was taken aback. "It's not wrong to enjoy it when you don't love them?"
"No, certainly not! Why do you think the pleasure houses and brothels are so popular? For the husbands to go to who have wives that don't like the marital act."
Sansa was sure her whole body was turning crimson now. Maybe she didn't need to make a Lannister wardrobe-her skin would reflect her new house colors at this rate. "Then that makes me no better than a whore," she said low.
"No, no, no, dear. Not at all!" Olenna regained her composure, shifting in her seat. "You are still living by your prudish Northern virtues, I see. No doubt raised by a septa. In the South, the true South, we are much more open in discussing love and intimacy. We don't want our daughters to fear the marriage bed or feel shamed about taking pleasure from it."
Sansa felt a bit offended by the prudish comment but realized her limited knowledge had been a hinderance.
"As I said, I loved my husband over time, in my way. And though he was an oaf, he was rather good at pleasing me in the marriage bed. Do I look like a whore to you, my dear?" Sansa shook her head, feeling a bit relieved. "It's a blessing that you are married to a man who has pleased you physically. It makes the marriage more bearable and may even keep him from straying from your bed. Although I won't give you false hope since he does have quite the reputation for whoremongering."
That hit a soft spot Sansa didn't realize she had. Would Tyrion still visit the brothels now that he was married? He had quoted the Night's Watch oath to her, a vow of celibacy, until she wanted him in her bed. Would he resume those activities now, especially once she was pregnant?
That thought led her to another. "My handmaid told me that she could help prevent me from getting with child if I wanted. Do you know anything about such ways?"
"Hmph," Olenna snorted. "I wouldn't trust a lowborn maid with such things. Moon teas can be very deadly if not dosed properly. But if you feel the need to delay pregnancy, it's best to consult a knowledgeable midwife on them. There are some maesters who will do it as well, but most believe as the Sept does, that it is murder of innocents. Of course, what is worse-women dying young from overbreeding, or hundreds of bastards starving in the streets?"
Sansa nodded, feeling a little uncomfortable with the topic. She reached for some cheese, and nibbled on it, not knowing how to respond.
Olenna seemed to recognize her discomfort. "My dear Lady Lannister, if you're going to survive the lion's den, you'll need to be more open minded to more lewd conversations. Don't let anyone know they've made you feel uncomfortable. They'll use it against you." She followed Sansa actions and took some cheese for herself. "I commend, you, though, for surviving so far. I have heard tales of your bravery in court."
"Thank you," Sansa simply replied.
"Now, let's talk of more pleasant things. Tell me, do you look forward to moving to Casterly Rock?"
Sansa gasped. "How do you know about that?"
Lady Olenna smirked. "It seems that my son will be the new Master of Coin, an act that would only be happening if your husband was leaving King's Landing. Tell me, when will you leave?"
Sansa shrugged. "Tyrion is with his father now, discussing the matter. I hope it will be within the week."
Olenna patted her knee before taking another bite of food. "Well, my dear, you shall be missed here. Margery will be disappointed you won't be able to attend the wedding, but I'm sure she'll understand. No doubt you'll be relieved to be out of reach of the king."
"Margery…"
"She'll be safe, I assure you," Olenna interrupted. "Unlike you, she has family all over the Red Keep, Joffrey wouldn't dare hurt her. Especially since it's Highgarden keeping the townspeople fed and not rioting."
Sansa felt relief at that fact, but still feared for her new friend. "I don't think Joffrey will be as kind to her as Tyrion was to me."
The 'Queen of Thorns' seemed to be deep in thought for a moment. "Don't worry," she finally replied. "Margery has done well so far charming the young king, and as I said, her family is here to help protect her."
Tyrion was putting the last of his stack of books into a crate, Podrick stacking the rest on the cart so they would not fall over. Bronn sat at Tryion's desk, his feet up on the top as he leaned back in the chair. He had asked Bronn to join them after Sansa returned to their chambers, hoping to have some assistance and perhaps discuss what happened during the midday meal.
"Are you taking any of your wife's ladies along?" he said aloud, drawing Tyrion's attention.
Tyrion looked troubled at the thought, wondering if he was talking about Shae. "I suppose we should dismiss them all, to leave behind any of my sister's spies."
Bronn arched an eyebrow, "Even Shae?"
Slowly, Tyrion nodded. "I'm a married man now, and I will honor my wife. She deserves some loyalty in her life after what she's been through."
"She won't go easy," Bronn warned. "She's protective of your lady wife, despite being jealous of her."
Tyrion frowned, coming to sit down on the other side of his desk. "Yes, I've noticed. But it can't be prevented. I've made a vow and will honor it."
"Fuck your vows, you liked fucking your wife," Bronn retorted. "And from her cries last night, I think she liked it, too." Tyrion's face turned red, and they both noticed Pod blushing as well from across the room. "Don't act bashful, no doubt it's your stories of your magic cock that helped him please a high-born lady."
"I'd like to think it was my own skills developed over the years that did that, thank you," Tyrion answered. "But I will not have you embarrassing Sansa talking about our intimacies, so shall we change the subject?" It was difficult enough trying not to remember last night while doing such tedious work. The way Sansa tasted, how her thighs clenched around him as she found her pleasure. It was honestly the first time he knew for sure the woman he was with was not acting for the courtesy of his gold.
"Sure. What will you do with Shae?" Bronn replied, breaking Tyrion's thoughts.
Tyrion groaned, leaning back in his chair. "I suppose the best thing would be to give her enough funds to set her up in the free cities, to live a life not dependent on whoring. It's the least I owe her for what she's done for me, and for Sansa."
"She won't go easy," Bronn pointed out.
"I know. But it needs to be done."
There was a knock at the door, interrupting them. Pod opened the door, revealing Lord Varys.
"Lord Varys, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Tyrion called out, sitting up straighter.
Podrick shut the door and Varys approached, looking cautiously at Bronn. "One of my birds has sung a song that has concerned me. Perhaps we could speak privately?"
"You can speak freely, Ser Bronn is paid well to keep my secrets, and Pod you know is loyal to a fault."
Bronn snickered at Tyrion's comments.
"Very well, my friend. This does have to do with your wife and a certain maid."
"One of my sister or father's spies?"
"No. Shae."
Yup, no good news ever came from the eunuch it seemed.
"What luck, we were just discussing how I should send Shae to the Free Cities to start a better life. Perhaps you could help me arrange her travels?"
Varys, his hands hidden beneath his sleeves as always, stared down at Tyrion with a concerning look.
"It seems her jealousy of Lady Sansa may have taken the next step. She was seen gathering ingredients for a moon tea."
Tyrion looked at Bronn, who shrugged. Looking back at Varys, he waited for further explanation. The silence hung awkwardly, and Vary's expression changed to one of amusement. "You don't know what I'm talking about?"
"Should I?" Tyrion replied, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
"I assumed with your reputation of frequenting pleasure houses, you would be familiar with moon tea," Varys responded, stepping closer to the desk. "Although the Faith of the Seven are against its use, there are still women who use it."
"So it's for whores," Bronn cut in.
"No, but it is more common among the Free Cities' brothels than in Westeros." Varys' amused look turned to serious. "It is used to prevent pregnancy, or to end one."
The realization dawned on Bronn and Tyrion, and the little lord swore under his breath. "Seven hells."
"It seems your friend has intent to give it to Lady Sansa."
Tyrion didn't miss the implication of the word friend. The spider loved to mask his words, but sometimes being blunt was better. "Do you think she's done it out of jealousy, or did my lady wife ask for it?" Either way, the situation was like a knife to him. Either his mistress was so jealous of his wife, or his wife did not want to have his child.
"My little birds did not hear a reason, but considering how dangerous moon tea can be if not mixed right, I felt obligated to let you know that your wife may be in danger."
Tyrion was already out of his seat before Varys finished. Bronn followed after, leaving Pod and Varys in the room. They quickly walked the short distance to the newlyweds' chambers, and as Tyrion threw open the door, they both stopped short in the doorway.
Sansa sat at the small table on their balcony, working on her embroidery for her new Lannister dress. Her midday meal with Lady Olena had been very informative, if not a bit awkward. But she was right—she was a married woman now and would eventually be the great lady of a powerful house. Just as she had learned how to survive Joffrey's abuse and ignore the whispers about her family, she needed to start becoming a learned woman, not a naïve girl.
At least Lady Olena had helped her not to feel ashamed of her feelings about her marriage bed. As she mapped out the pattern for her sleeves, she wondered if Tyrion would share her bed again tonight. She blushed, recalling the feeling of his fingers trailing up and down her legs. The warmth of his mouth on her. Would he try to kiss her tonight? Did she want him to?
The door opened, interrupting her thoughts. She turned in her seat, finding Shae carrying a tray with some fruit and a pitcher. "My lady, I brought you some fresh fruit and refreshments." Sansa nodded, turning back to her needlework. She was still upset that Shae had called her foolish this morning, but she knew her handmaid was right and was only trying to help her.
Shae sat the tray down on the table, careful not to disrupt the fabric and drawing papers spread out on it. She carefully touched the lion figure sketch, and Sansa looked back up from her embroidery frame. "I thought it appropriate for my new gown, since I'll be wearing it when I arrive at Casterly Rock," she said.
Shae gave her a sad smile, which Sansa felt in her core. Here she was, a wolf wearing the colors of her family's enemies. If she had been able to marry Loras, she would happily be covering her clothing in roses, and the green colors Loras liked would have gone so well with her auburn hair. She had to admit, though, that Shae picked a crimson shade that complimented her locks, instead of contrasting. And the gold had a lovely floral damask print on it already. Perhaps she should thank Shae for her selections.
"Here, my lady, you should drink. It has been a warm day." Shae was already filling a cup for her.
Sansa noticed that it was not water, but darker than her normal tea she preferred. "What are you serving?"
Shae smiled, setting the pitcher down and placing the cup in front of Sansa. "The cook got a new shipment of fruits and herbs from Highgarden today and thought you would like to try some in your tea."
Sansa lifted the cup, bringing in close to smell it. It was sweet and floral, and very pleasant. But something was nagging at Sansa. She recalled her conversation with Lady Olena earlier, after Sansa had confided in her about what Shae had asked her this morning.
She set the cup back down, untouched. She clasped her hands together, trying to remain composed. "Is this the moon tea you mentioned this morning?" she asked, looking up at Shae.
Her eyes widened slightly, having been caught off guard. "I did not say anything about moon tea, my lady."
"But you said you knew a way to keep me from getting pregnant," Sansa retorted, standing up from her seat. Drawing herself to her full height, she towered over her maid. "Lady Olena told me about moon tea, and that it can be dangerous if not made properly."
Shae looked up at her, her face stoic. "I would not put you in danger, Lady Sansa."
Sansa felt her heart beating faster as she tried to stay composed. "You told me once to not trust anybody," she started, "but I've always felt I could trust you." She turned to pick up the cup, twirling it and watching the residual herbs swirl around. "Yet here you are, trying to make choices about my life without my consent. Just like everyone else in King's Landing."
"My lady…"
Sansa didn't want to hear any excuse. Her anger taking over, she tossed the liquid in Shae's face, shocking the smaller woman.
"You were right, I shouldn't trust anybody," Sansa said coolly, setting the cup back down on the table. "I should punish you for trying to drug me, but you had been kind to me until now." Sansa tried to keep ahold of her emotions. She wanted to cry, like the first night Shae came to her room. "Leave my sight, you are dismissed permanently from my service."
Shae nodded her head in understanding, giving her awkward curtsy. She turned to leave but stopped suddenly. Sansa followed her gaze, finding Tyrion and Ser Bronn standing in the doorway to their chamber. How long had they been standing there?
"What happened?" Tyrion asked, looking from Sansa to the hall and back to her. He approached her, looking rather concerned.
"It's a matter between my former handmaid and I, my lord," she replied, and she saw his crestfallen face. He had told her several times to not use formalities with him, he would not treat her like a prisoner. Sighing, she sat back down, bringing herself to his eye level. "I'm sorry, Tyrion. I am just angry about what happened."
He reached out and patted her hand. "I understand. Perhaps it is wise, releasing your handmaid before we leave. We should probably dismiss the others, as well, for who knows which ones are loyal or spies."
"I thought Shae was loyal to me," Sansa responded, feeling the tears forming.
"I believe she was," he replied. "She tried to protect you from Joffrey and was your council for a long time. Let me pay to send her across the Narrow Sea, back to her homeland."
"Why would you do that?"
"I am in her debt for her service to you," he smiled, his thumb rubbing across her knuckles. "And a Lannister always pays his debts."
After much reassurance from Sansa, Tyrion returned to his makeshift office down the corridor. Varys was still there, sitting by the desk. Podrick had finished loading the cart and had joined the Master of Whispers. Varys must have been able to read his mood because his face seemed to soften. "Were you able to stop her in time?"
Tyrion approached the desk and grabbed the wine pitcher, pouring a glass. "We didn't need to."
"The she-wolf threw it in her face," Bronn chuckled, seemingly amused. Tyrion tried to ignore him, chugging his drink.
"Lady Sansa knew what it was?" Varys responded, sounding intrigued. "Perhaps your sister educated her about it."
That piqued Tyrion's interest. "Are you saying Cersei has used moon tea before?"
Varys gave his usual smirk, "More frequently these last years than when she was younger. Especially after King Robert's death."
Tyrion noticed Podrick's eyes widen in surprise, but Bronn seemed to know what Tyrion did. "Yes, it wouldn't do for the Queen to be with child so long after her husband's death. The time has long passed for any posthumous children."
"And with the rumors about her and the Kingslayer, it wouldn't help whelping her cousin's bastard," Bronn added.
Tyrion gave Bronn a warning look, but Varys nodded. "Yes, Lancel has been a favorite of hers for a while now."
Of course the Spider would have known about their cousin. Tyrion refilled his cup, this time sipping it. "However Sansa knew, she didn't take it." He felt some relief as he said it, realizing how scared he had felt that she would have. Did this mean she didn't object to having a child with him, knowing she could have prevented it?
"What is to be done about Shae, then?" Varys asked.
The room was silent for a moment, and Tyrion realized they were waiting for him to answer. "Sansa has released her from her service. And we both agreed we should dismiss the other handmaids as well." He sat himself down in his chair, taking a longer sip. "I told Sansa I would send Shae to the Free Cities, as a favor for taking care of her all this time. She was disheartened by Shae's betrayal, since they had been so close before."
Varys stood up, his hands tucked back under his sleeves in front of him. "There is a ship leaving late this night for Pentos. I could send word that a cabin is needed for a lady."
Tyrion nodded, not surprised that Varys knew the comings and goings of the ships in harbor. "Yes, thank you. I will send Podrick to you with enough gold for her travels, and to buy a house for her to live comfortably. I will not send her off to be forced to return to selling herself."
"How kind of you," Varys observed, watching him closely. Tyrion looked back into his cup and downed it. He didn't feel like a battle of wits right now with the Spider. "It's wise of you to send across the Narrow Sea, instead of hiding her in Lannisport."
That made Tyrion look back up at him. "Why would you assume I'd send her there?"
Varys smiled. "You know I have my ways." He started to turn to leave, but stopped, looking back at him. "It's very admirable of you to be faithful to your wife. Lady Sansa is a sweet girl, despite the horrors she's endured."
The hours passed slowly, Tyrion spending them wallowing in his cups. Podrick was gone, collecting the funds Tyrion had written down and awaiting Varys in his quarters. Bronn had returned to his guard post at their chamber door. Knowing Sansa did not like seeing him drunk, he decided to stay in his makeshift office through the evening meal, watching the sky turn shades of red and orange as the sun set in the distance.
Why would Shae endanger Sansa? Or was she familiar enough with moon tea that she could make it herself? She was a whore, after all, and as far as he knew, she had no bastards. In all their time together, she had never fallen pregnant. It seemed likely the more he thought on it. Perhaps that was why he never had someone claim he had fathered a child on them. He couldn't blame them, having a dwarf's child, despite his family name.
But Sansa had turned the opportunity down. He felt some hope at that thought. Despite the circumstances of their consummation, she had found pleasure at his touch. There was no doubt it was honest, unlike the whores in the pleasure houses who were trained for such responses. That and her refusing the tea… Sansa had no idea the gift she had given him. For that alone, he would honor her.
"My lord?"
Tyrion jumped in his seat, not realizing Podrick was standing in the doorway. "Ah, come, have a drink with me." Tyrion reached to pour himself another, but realized the pitcher was empty. "Or perhaps you should fetch some first."
Podrick shut the door behind him, coming close. "I'm sorry, my lord, but Lord Varys suggested that I should replace Ser Bronn for now, so that he could escort Shae to the ship."
Tyrion looked quizzically at his squire, trying to determine Varys' orders. "He believes she won't go easy, doesn't he?"
"Aye, my lord."
Tyrion hummed in understanding. "Very well. Go tell Bronn to come here. Let my lady wife know that I will be late this evening, and not to wait for me."
Shae sat on her cot, unsure of where to go. Bernadette and Mya were already gone, tending to Sansa for the evening meal and the night. Perhaps Tyrion would send her back to the house outside the Keep she lived in before entering Sansa's service. But with them leaving in a few days, she wondered how she would get to Casterly Rock. Perhaps he would send her on a ship to Lannisport and would hide her away.
The door opened, Bronn walking in, and Tyrion following him. Once they were both inside the small chamber, the sellsword shut the door, leaning against it. Tyrion looked troubled, and clearly had been drinking.
"What's wrong, my lion?" Shae asked, in her charming tone.
"Don't call me that," Tyrion spat, turning away from her.
"What should I call you?" She stood up, starting to approach him.
"I'm afraid our friendship can't continue."
Shae stopped in her tracks. "Our friendship?"
"There's a ship waiting in the harbor bound for Pentos."
Pentos? No, didn't he mean Lannisport? "What?"
"You will have your own cabin, of course, and across the Narrow Sea a house, servants."
"What is this?" Shae interrupted, disbelief taking hold of her.
"I'm a married man. My wife has suffered a great deal, as you well know. I don't want her to suffer any more on my account. I need to uphold my vows."
"She doesn't want you—" Shae started, but he continued.
"I need to do right by her-"
"You don't want her—"
"By our children."
There it was. Did he know what she had tried to give Sansa? Better not to ask but rather redirect him. "She doesn't want to have a Lannister child. Send me to your home, you promised to put me in a nice house and have children with me—"
"You're a whore! Sansa is fit to bear my children and you are not. I can't be in love with a whore. I can't have children with a whore. How many men have you been with? Five hundred? Five thousand?"
She felt like her heart was being ripped out. She had known better to get attached to any man. It was safer that way, she could not survive if she let her feelings get away from her. Her childhood had taught her that much. But she had been a fool. Tyrion was the first man to treat her with any dignity and respect. And she had let her jealousy overcome her. Fuck.
"How many whores have you been with?" she growled back at him, this time letting her anger take control. Anger at his words. Anger at her own foolishness.
"I have enjoyed my time with all of them, and I have enjoyed my time with you most of all. But now that time is over. You'll have a comfortable life in Pentos. Bronn will escort you to your ship."
She couldn't stop the angry sob from escaping. He wouldn't even look at her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to apologize and beg. But she also knew that would do no good. She felt Bronn reach out to grab her arm. She turned and smacked him across the face, catching him by surprise. She didn't wait for him to open the door and raced down the halls.
Sansa woke to the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. She jolted up, pulling the sheets up close to her. Through the lattice wall that separated the bed from the rest of the chamber, she could see a shadow moving across the room. She sighed with relief when she noticed the shadow belonged to Tyrion. Her heart started to slow its pace, remembering that Ser Bronn wouldn't have let anyone else in at such a late hour.
"Tyrion? Are you alright?"
He didn't respond, but continued to make his way to the chaise. He was moving clumsily, and Sansa frowned. He was drunk again.
Climbing out of the bed, Sansa slowly moved towards him, his back turned to her. What had caused him to drink to access again? "Tyrion," she called again, her tone a bit firmer.
He nearly fell off the lounger he was trying to climb on to. "Sansa! I did not mean to wake you, my dear."
"Why are you drunk?"
He looked so guilty, like a child being admonished by his mother. "I'm sorry, my dear. I have had a terrible evening, and my bad habits got the better of me."
Sansa quietly watched him, wondering if she should question him more. But he truly seemed distressed, and guilty. Sighing, she came to sit on the chaise, drawing a curious look from her husband. "I forgive you. This time." She reached out to touch his hand. "This marriage wasn't either of our choices, you told me. And you're right, I don't know how you feel, just like you don't know how I feel. But soon we'll be free of this horrible place, and we can start to figure out our life together."
Tyrion turned his hand under hers and lifted it to his lips. "I don't deserve you," he whispered, causing Sansa to blush.
"Then you can strive to, starting tomorrow." She leaned into him, her eyes catching his. "No more drinking to excess."
Tyrion tried to smile, kissing her hand again. "I won't promise because I am not a perfect man. I'm not a valiant knight, but I will do my best to honor you and make you happy."
Sansa nodded, finding his answer acceptable. "Now, we should get you in to bed."
Tyrion blinked, seeming confused. "I can sleep on the chaise. You needn't share your bed with me now that we have obtained our escape."
"And you shouldn't have to sleep on this small lounger, it doesn't seem comfortable."
Tyrion chuckled, "I'm quite small myself, my dear, if you hadn't noticed."
Sansa stood, slowly pulling him by the hand she still held. "Then you won't take up too much space in our bed."
He didn't object, letting her guide him across the room. He was still swaying, and as he came to the bedside, he clumsily tried to take his boots off. Sansa sighed, leaning down to sit on her knees, helping him. When she looked back up at him, his eyes seemed to question her.
"You clearly need help," she lightly teased.
"As you wish, wife."
She moved to undo his doublet, but he stopped her. "I meant what I said. I won't share your bed unless you want me to."
Sansa rolled her eyes. "We are only sleeping tonight. I told you; I don't like seeing you drunk."
"Of course. But I promise, I won't touch you unless you want. I know I'm not the husband of your dreams."
Before she realized what she was doing, Sansa leaned forward and kissed him on his scarred cheek. She pulled back, noting the shock in his face and his eyes starting to water. Did he really believe so little in himself?
"Not tonight, maybe," she replied. "But you have always been kind to me, no matter the circumstance. Dreams can change."
