A Holiday by Decree

~~ Day 4 ~~

For the afternoon, Sansa and Tyrion went their separate ways.

Still feeling out of it after smoking, Sansa retired to her room. She had wanted to try new things on her holiday, but she still could not believe that she had chosen something so unfamiliar; when it turned out to be something that made her lose her inhibitions, she now felt proud that she had been so unguarded with another person. That she had felt so content with that person being Tyrion, she was still trying to sort out in her mind, but allowed herself a brief break.

Abed, she lunched, read and napped all afternoon. It was nearly evening, when a seagull flew past her open veranda door; finally, her mind drifted back to her and Tyrion at the aviary.

Their simple, little pigeon had been ordinary, but when she petted it, and it had looked at her with its sweet, trusting gaze, it had warmed Sansa's heart like her dear direwolf, Lady, once had.

Unfortunately, memories of Lady reminded Sansa of Joffrey and Ramsay, both sadists, who had enjoyed mistreating animals.

Sansa's heart lightened quicker than normal at the thought of her tormentors though, as she considered the sheer contrast in Tyrion. A little uncertain at first, he had taken the pigeon from her carefully, his fingers brushing its feathers, slowly, gently and not at all forcing. Even when it had settled down into Tyrion's hand, he had looked like the most surprised and pleased of all.

Remembering Tyrion's happiness, Sansa's stomach tumbled. She placed her hand over her quickening heart.

Is this really all it takes? Her mind raced. For good reason, she had not felt giddy like this for a man since before she had fled King's Landing as a girl. Yet, all it seemed to take now was the sight of her ex-husband - "the Half-man" at that, as she had heard the slur used about him - being kind to a pigeon to send her into a swoon.

Am I crazy? Sansa wondered to the beats of the whispering tide outside.

Maybe she was not. She thought of how she had laughed so easily with Tyrion the evening before; how thoughtfully he had treated her in the morning, patiently introducing her to and preparing her coffee.

Her heart fluttered with the feeling that this man, with whom she shared such a complicated history, did somehow know her fairly well. They had spent a lot of time in each other's, at this point, epic orbits over the years.

Uncertain yet excited, Sansa cautioned herself: she had been hurt so terribly and repeatedly before. She needed to respect who she was and find a way to approach her fears while also finally allowing herself to be vulnerable with someone - but at least she thought, if it was Tyrion, perhaps she could finally do that.

Sansa's heart raced at the possibilities - new, unexpected, but also for the first time in so long, somehow hopeful - as she dressed for dinner.