Chapter 12
Arya rolled her eyes as Varys and Bran continued their hushed discussion.
"You believe this will work?" asked Varys
Bran's face was unreadable as he answered "Cersei made her first move, now we wait for the second"
Waiting for the second move wasn't a strategy Arya cared for, particularly when it meant waiting with Bran and Varys. She could only assume Varys' hushed whisper was force of habit in tense situations and decided to not take it personally. Besides, she could hear every word they were saying despite the incessant ringing of the bells.
"Your Grace, if Cersei were to escape-"
"Unlikely" said Bran "If she moves we'll be ready"
"Why do I have to stay here?" cut in Arya, tapping her foot restlessly
Bran's dark eyes turned to her "You killed three Lannister guards"
"They were trying to kill Tyrion" said Arya. She didn't add that they'd almost killed Sansa too, when her stupid older sister decided to shield him with her own body.
"Yes, and that's why its better you remain here" said Varys "If this plan is to work Cersei must learn her brother is dead and those bodies cannot be found"
Arya groaned, sinking deeper into the armchair in Bran's chambers. While the King and Varys discussed their plot, the bells continued to ring signifying a murder had taken place. The sound would reach across Kings Landing and echo into the Black Cells. If Bran was right it would be the signal for Cersei to attempt an escape. As they sat here servants were being confined to their quarters and guards were investigating the blood soaked bed of Tyrion Lannister - Grand Maester Tarly had already removed the body.
The whole of the Red Keep was alive with action, all searching for who murdered the lord of Casterly Rock in his sick bed.
Arya sighed "Why do I have to wait here?"
"Lady Arya we've been through this-" started Varys
"I could have gone with Sansa"
"You're a witness to what happened" said Bran, folding his hands in his lap "You've fulfilled your role tonight, and now we wait for Cersei to make her move"
"Will you tell me where Sansa is?"
"She's safe"
Arya folded her arms, irritation winding through her "For someone who doesn't know the future, you seem to have everything planned out"
"You don't need to be the three-eyed raven to see how situations might develop" said Bran, his monotone voice never changing "We both knew there was disloyalty in the Lannister ranks. I thought something might happen tonight and you were in the right place when the time came"
"You commented on how many blades I carry"
"Three guards. When the Lannister guards take their turn at lord Tyrion's door it's always in pairs"
"Two guards sympathetic to Cersei on the same night and another guard to commit the murder" said Varys
Bran nodded, his dark eyes glancing at her "I thought it was better you have an extra blade. One for each guard"
As much as Arya loathed to admit it Bran was right. Sansa had reluctantly agreed with the Lannister captain Godwin to let the men fulfil their duty by guarding their lord's door. It had been going on for several days without problems and Arya was quite satisfied Godwin was loyal to Tyrion. Much of her observation had initially focused on him and then the senior guards directly beneath him, also finding no problems.
Tonight the two guards had both been traitors, paving the way for the third guard to enter Tyrion's room.
"Those guards were only young" said Arya
"Does it bother you?" asked Varys, his face creasing in an imitation of sympathy "Taking lives is never pleasant, but young lives are particularly difficult, or so I hear"
"They were traitors and they deserved it" said Arya easily "I just find it strange. Most of the older guards seem to be loyal to Tyrion. It's the younger ones who talk about treason"
It was Varys who answered "Opportunity I fear. Many of the younger guards only joined the Lannister ranks in the past few years and lack the discipline Tywin Lannister instilled in the older guards. They see Cersei as someone who has power and someone who can give it to them. I daresay her treatment of Tyrion appealed to the darker instincts of some of the men too"
"Some people enjoy others pain" said Bran, a frown pulling at his face "some of the men were disgusted at what happened to Tyrion though. Not every Lannister guard is cruel, as you well know"
"No one tried to stop it - they're all guilty" insisted Arya
"They would have shared his pain if they intervened, and it wouldn't have helped in the end" said Bran, glancing out the window and into the night sky "Tonight will show where loyalties lie"
"I suspect most of the Lannister guards will not support Cersei" said Varys "Both she and Tyrion have done many things to harm their reputations over the years, but a son will always come before a daughter, and any excuse to rid themselves of the poison Cersei's rule has caused to their own reputations will be greatly welcomed"
It wasn't a pleasant truth to swallow but it was the truth. When the Lannister guards had learned Tyrion wasn't disinherited they'd quickly switched sides against Cersei. The ones supporting her now were likely clinging to whatever false promises she'd managed to give them. Still, there were too many traitors in the Lannister ranks for Arya's liking. Whatever happened tonight Arya would continue to observe them.
If Sansa was going to be stupid enough to get between Tyrion and a sword Arya would have to make sure there was no sword there in the first place.
"Are Sansa and Tyrion alright?" asked Arya
"Unharmed but rather shaken from what I've heard" said Varys
Arya merely nodded. When Bran's guards had descended on the room with Pod and Grey Worm she hadn't had much chance to check on her sister. Tyrion had been trembling and crying while Sansa tried to soothe him, despite the tremor in her own hands as she tended to him. Podrick had delivered the message that she was to go straight to Bran, while Grey Worm and some of Bran's guards had swarmed around the bed.
"Will you at least tell me where they are?" asked Arya
"I can't yet. For now you need to wait, and they have to stay hidden" said Bran, his eyes growing distant as the bells rang "Not much longer now. All the pieces are in place"
The trembling in Sansa's hands needed to stop; it was unbecoming of a lady, particularly when she would be Queen in the North.
Ah, the North. How she couldn't wait to get out of this hellish place and return home. Kings Landing had never been kind to her family. She'd often feared danger around every corner, and tonight the danger had nearly killed her. She drew her knees up onto the bed, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.
Her eyes moved to Tyrion and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept, wrapped snugly in his blue blanket that she'd just managed to grab before they were hauled from his room and down to this one.
Everything had happened so quickly, but the scene repeated over and over in Sansa's mind. The door opening, the guard holding the sword over the bed and the feel of Tyrion trembling beneath her as she threw herself on top of him.
She reached for Tyrion's damaged right hand, lightly brushing her fingers over his. Could he feel that? His hand would be useless to him - all the Maesters agreed on that - but now his shoulder had been fixed they could see the full extent of the damage. There was a chance he would regain feeling in his hand even if he couldn't move it. Sansa focused on that tiny glimmer of hope as she stroked his fingers. Anything was better than thinking about the small windowless room Bran's guards had brought them too.
There'd been barely a minute between Arya killing the last guard and people descending on the room. Arya had been summoned to Bran, and after she left Samwell had arrived to oversee moving Tyrion. No choices had been given to them, though Sam, Pod and Grey Worm were at least friendly faces.
"Tyrion needs to drink this. It's milk of the poppy" said Sam, handing her a cup
"Why?" she asked, her voice shaking almost as much as Tyrion was as she tried to keep him still
"King Bran is moving him to a secure location until this is dealt with and its better he's calm for the move"
"He's not going anywhere without me"
"Of course" said Sam, bobbing his head up and down "we need to move quickly though"
Whatever paralysis had taken hold of Tyrion after his shoulder was fixed the sight of the Lannister guards had instantly shattered it. Tyrion had been near hysterical by the time she gave him the milk of the poppy, and the unfamiliar faces in the room had only intensified his fear. She hated putting him to sleep, but he'd been squirming and crying beneath the tight sheets and was likely to hurt himself in his panic.
Tyrion had been taken down to their current room on a wooden board carried between Grey Worm and three other guards. Samwell had stayed long enough to help her settle Tyrion onto the single bed in the small room and the guards had disappeared instantly with only Pod and Grey Worm lingering.
"This shouldn't be for long" Sam promised "but no one can know where you are. Pod and Grey Worm will be close by but they need to stay out of sight too"
"What's going on?" she'd pleaded "Where are Arya and Jon?"
"I'm sorry. King Bran only told me so much. You and lord Tyrion are perfectly safe"
"Where's Maester Henly? What if Tyrion needs him?"
"There wasn't time to find him. Everyone in the Red Keep is being confined to their chambers" said Sam, backing towards the door "The bells will start ringing soon, don't panic - it's not as it seems"
Don't panic.
Why would Sansa possibly panic after being locked in a room barely bigger than a cupboard, while the bells rang throughout the Red Keep? It wasn't as if someone had tried to kill Tyrion barely an hour ago.
The sound of the door locking behind Samwell had unlocked a part of Sansa she'd tried to bury long ago. The feeling of being trapped was suffocating. The room they'd been taken to was deep within the Red Keep on the lower levels Sansa was unfamiliar with; she'd quickly learned to avoid lonely areas of Kings Landing when Joffrey was King. There was a small table at one side with water, cups and a few pieces of bread and cheese as well as a cup containing another dose of milk of the poppy for Tyrion if needed. A single bed with a few blankets was pushed against one wall and there was a lone chair next to the table. The room was illuminated by torches along the walls but to Sansa it was a prison cell. Far nicer than the Black Cells but a prison all the same.
Tyrion was sleeping peacefully with the sheets tucked around him and his blue blanket covering him. After sitting in the chair for all of ten minutes Sansa had taken up position at the foot of Tyrion's bed with her back against the wall. It was only a narrow bed but Tyrion's short stature meant he only took up the top half of the bed, leaving her room to sit near his feet and watch over him. In her haste to protect him from the Lannister guards she'd feared hurting him but Sam had checked Tyrion over before leaving and assured her his injuries didn't seem to have been jostled by the sudden movements, and Tyrion showed no signs of distress now.
Rationally Sansa knew there would be an explanation for this. Arya and Jon wouldn't leave her here and Bran surely had a good reason for doing this, though the thought brought her little comfort in her current state. How many hours had she spent locked away in Winterfell waiting for Ramsay to return? Every day had taught her a different way to experience pain at her husband's hand.
No, not her husband.
Her eyes swept over Tyrion, forcing away the memories and fear to focus on him. Ramsay had been her rapist and abuser, but he was never truly her husband. That title belonged to this man who'd never hurt her.
"I wish you were awake" she whispered, fiddling gently with his fingers
Things would be better if Tyrion were here; she wouldn't be alone with her fear and Tyrion's natural charm would brighten the room. Logically it wasn't possible. If Tyrion was awake he'd be terrified. Reading Qyburn's notes had given her a shocking glimpse into the hell Tyrion had suffered, and no amount of hoping would make him wake up as the man who'd left Winterfell.
"It's ok if you can't be that man again" she whispered to him, a tear sliding down her cheek "Most people don't know what it's like to be abused by someone like Ramsay or Cersei. Jon and Arya and Bran - they try to understand but it's hard for them. Unless you've lived through an experience like that you can't truly understand it"
For all her family tried to help her they couldn't understand the trauma that never leaves you. Feeding Ramsay to his dogs had rid the world of a monster but Sansa could still feel the monster's hands every night, and see the cruel glint in his eyes as he brought her more pain than she'd ever imagined. No doubt her family thought she and Tyrion were safe in here, thinking it might be uncomfortable but nothing more. They couldn't understand how it was hell for her, and if Tyrion were awake would likely be the same for him.
"I understand Tyrion" she said, gently grasping the ends of his fingers "You rest now and I'll be strong for both of us, ok? We'll go home soon. Everything will be better then"
Sansa watched his sleeping face, the three words drifting through her mind that she'd whispered in what had almost been their final moments. It shouldn't have slipped out. The timing was wrong, Tyrion wasn't himself - there were so many reasons she kept that box tightly locked away in her heart.
Yet all she could think about was that she'd said it. If she never got the chance to say it again or Tyrion wanted nothing to do with her when he was well, at least she wouldn't die without having said it - even if it was a whispered confession made under threat of imminent death. Tyrion was in no state to understand or respond and that made it so much easier to move on from it.
That part of her heart would remain under tight control however. If she wasn't careful something could slip past her guard when Tyrion was coherent enough to understand, and the consequences then couldn't be so easily set aside.
Nothing had ever sounded as sweet to Cersei as the ringing of the bells. Too often they'd meant the death of a loved one, but tonight they tolled for another reason.
The imp was dead and freedom was in sight.
Malcolm was grinning as he unlocked her cell door, his face illuminated by the flickering flames of a torch.
"It's done?" she asked in a whisper, hurrying through the door
"He's dead" said Malcolm "there are guards all over the Red Keep and they've blocked off the corridors near his room"
"You've seen the body?"
"No, but some of our men have seen the room; there's blood everywhere"
"What of the Stark girl?" whispered Cersei.
"Not been seen" said Malcolm, his eyes glinting with humour "probably crying over being a widow again"
The explanation didn't entirely satisfy Cersei, but she had no time to linger on it as they hurried through the lower levels of the Black Cells. Malcolm wasn't alone tonight. There were fifteen guards accompanying him and Cersei knew there were more allies throughout the Red Keep. It had been tempting to try and win at trial tomorrow. With the imp dead the Lannister guards would surely return to her side, yet the safest option was still escape.
Only the Gods knew what affliction the girl had to make her love the dwarf, but there was every chance Sansa would seek to avenge his death at trial. Even when the Lannister guards inevitably returned their allegiance to her it might not be enough - not with the wolves on the throne.
Escape was her best option. When she was free she could plan her next move. Jamie was dead and so were her children - there was nothing left to live for and she'd burn this city to the ground before letting the Starks win.
"Where are the guards?" hissed Cersei, a flicker of uncertainty going through her as they continued unimpeded
"The Unsullied are leaving for Naath in a few days" whispered Malcolm "they're preparing ships to leave so Bran replaced them with his own guards"
"And where are they?"
"Every guard in the castle is looking for who killed the imp. As soon as the bells rang they left their position to join the hunt. The keys were trickier to get but a couple of the men 'borrowed' them from the Stark guard"
"And the Stark guard?"
The torch illuminated Malcolm's grin as he drew a line across his throat. Cersei ground her teeth biting down her annoyance. While she didn't care how many people died in the name of her freedom a trail of bodies could draw unwanted attention.
"Where's Qyburn?" she asked
"A different level in the Black Cells" said Malcolm, wrinkling his nose "It's higher than this level and there are more guards around. You don't want him do you?"
If Malcolm wasn't currently being useful Cersei might have taken issue with his casual language towards her; she was the rightful Queen after all. For now she let it go. When she clawed back her power all would know their place.
"Leave him" she decided "Just get me out of here"
Qyburn had been useful to her and she would have liked his assistance in reclaiming the throne, but if sacrifices were necessary to ensure her freedom she would happily leave him to the wolves.
Their footsteps echoed as they hurried deeper into low levels of the black cells. Only the flicker of the torches carried by the guards illuminated the desolate place. Not much further. The passage to freedom was just up ahead. Hidden deep in the depths of the Red Keep was a long forgotten tunnel that would bring them out not far from the water. From there a small boat hidden by the dark of night would bring her to safety, and then the planning could begin.
Satisfaction curled through Cersei as the guards at the front pressed on the brickwork in search of the hidden lever. It didn't take them long. Qyburn had found this route and she'd paid close enough attention when he showed her that telling the guards where to find it was simple.
A click echoed through the darkness and a moment later a large section of wall retracted. It was only when the light of the first torch illuminated the passage that Cersei realised it was already occupied. Ned Stark's bastard stood in the entrance, with a man next to him that bore a striking resemblance to her late husband. At his other side Cersei recognised the obscenely tall form of Brienne - the beastly woman who Jamie had taken some ridiculous liking too.
Cersei froze as the flickering torch light revealed the multitude of men stood behind the first three.
"Surrender Cersei" ordered the bastard. She'd met all of the Stark children at Winterfell, but none of them looked like Ned Stark as much as his bastard did. Too much like his father. If the boy had any sense he wouldn't have given her a chance.
"Kill them!" shouted Cersei, her voice echoing off the walls as the Lannister guards surged around her to meet the enemy
Snippets of conversation drifted to Tyrion, though they made little sense to him.
"...permanent damage?"
"Moving him was dangerous, but doesn't appear to have harmed him"
"He's in pain, can we-"
"No my lady. Too much milk of the poppy is dangerous and if he's to be sedated for the journey North he cannot be sedated now. The body and mind grows too reliant on it, particularly in cases of trauma like this..."
Something had happened.
Maybe. Was it just a dream?
No, the sword had been over him - that was real. He saw the face of the Lannister guard as he loomed over him. The man was young, but he'd been about to kill him. The memories teetered on the brink of Tyrion's mind, darting just out of his grasp before he could reach them. What was real, what was false? He remembered the guards entering the room and a woman throwing herself on top of him. Her red hair had been soft as it brushed his face and somehow he'd felt safer having her so close. She'd whispered something to him...
Pain lanced through his shoulder, sharp and burning as it made its way across his chest and down his arm. He ground his teeth together, an agonised hiss escaping him.
What had he been thinking about? It was important, but the pain made it impossible to concentrate. Every part of him ached and he was as feeble as a newborn - even gripping the soft blanket was tiring.
He'd been somewhere else before. The memory was vague but he remembered a dark room with only a flicker of light, and the ball of fear that had engulfed him at the unfamiliar surroundings. Back with Cersei. He'd done something wrong and been sent back to Cersei and Qyburn and the pain. Remembering his fear was easy, it was everything else that didn't make sense. Wherever he'd been there was no pain. Someone had stroked his face, filling his ear with soft words he couldn't recall but had soothed his fear as a liquid was tipped into his mouth.
Then there was nothing until now. This room was brighter and familiar, though he could only really see the ceiling above him. Moving hurt too much and the blankets were holding him still.
Tyrion's mind drifted back and forth, torn between the haze of pain and the ignorance it brought him, and the rational part of his mind that wanted to make sense of things. There was a man and a woman in the room with him, their voices were familiar as they drifted to him but his position afforded him no view but the ceiling.
"Are you well my lady? The experience must have been terrifying..."
"I'll be fine. Even better when the trial is over with"
"Justice has been a long time coming"
"I'll make sure it's done. No one will get away with this"
"King Bran seemed to know what was happening. I've heard Jon and his force captured her and fifteen guards"
"Fifteen traitors" said the woman, her voice hard and cold "there'll be more still hiding..."
"...Varys is searching for them..."
"...little birds everywhere"
Tyrion tried to piece together the words and their meaning but his mind was too sluggish and the pain in his body got worse every minute. He squirmed beneath the tight sheets a ripple of agony tearing through his shoulder first and then travelling down to his left leg. He gasped at the sensation, his stomach rolling violently.
The voices fell quiet and a moment later the light dimmed as a woman leaned over the side of the bed. Her face was soft and her deep blue eyes brimmed with concern. When she spoke there was none of the coldness he'd heard moments ago.
"It's alright Tyrion, you're safe now. Try and rest for me"
Her hand brushed over his forehead as she continued speaking, but the words were lost to Tyrion.
This was a dream. That explained why Cersei and Qyburn weren't here.
Why else would the lady of Winterfell be looking at him so softly, or whispering reassurances to him?
The pain was getting worse but Tyrion smiled.
Dreams never lasted. He'd wake soon and be back in his cell, but for now he savored the tenderness Sansa's face held for him. It wasn't real but for a moment he let himself believe it was.
"Was it a good battle?"
For a moment Jon could hear the Bran he'd known in childhood behind the question.
"We outnumbered them three to one. They soon yielded"
Bran nodded, his face never changing "Thank you Jon. You did well"
"Might have been nice to know what was going on. Brienne woke me up with only vague orders from you"
"There wasn't time. Arya foiled the plot to kill Tyrion but we had to move quickly to stop Cersei"
"You knew she'd try to escape?"
"No, I knew it was a possibility. Tyrion's death might have strengthened her positon for the trial - she would be the last of the Lannisters and it's possible she could have convinced the Lannister guards to testify in her defence"
"She has no defence"
"She doesn't" agreed Bran "Most of the Lannister guards will be as relieved to see her gone as the Northerners. What she's done over the last few years has shamed them. Going to trial would be risky whether Tyrion was dead or not. Escape was her best option and her brother's murder would cause enough distraction to attempt it"
"You let her attempt it" said Jon, sinking wearily into his chair "You rang the bells and made sure there were no guards to stop her"
Bran's mouth turned downwards "One of her men - Malcolm - he killed one of my guards earlier today for the keys to her cell. I didn't want anyone else to die so when the bells rang I ordered them to join the hunt for the supposed killer"
"She could have got away Bran"
"Not really. There's only one secret passage in the black cells she knows of and that's where I sent you. It was unlikely she would escape and her attempt has found fifteen traitors in the Lannister ranks. If the bells hadn't rang Cersei's plot would have died and the traitors would still be in hiding"
What Bran said made sense; Jon couldn't argue with his plan or the results. He only wished his brother had thought to inform them first. Even if Bran only suspected something might happen they could have been ready rather than a frantic dash in the dead of night to be in position when the bells rang.
"How are Sansa and Tyrion?" asked Jon
"Fine. Lord Tyrion's chambers have been cleaned and he's back there with Sansa and his Maester. Podrick is guarding the door for now"
No amount of time would let Jon get used to the lack of emotion in his brother's voice. Both Bran and Arya had changed so much from the siblings he'd once known; there was a detachment around both of them that Jon found hard to stomach.
How could Sansa be fine after coming so close to death and being locked in a small room in the depths of the Red Keep? For all Sansa had changed she was still more familiar than Bran and Arya. Sansa's coldness was like a protective mask that hid the girl she'd once been whereas Arya and Bran had made it part of them and that often made them indifferent to others experiences. Jon was hardly an expert but he rather doubted Sansa was fine after tonight, no matter how certain Bran sounded.
"What happens now?" asked Jon, rubbing tiredly at his face "Those guards are traitors"
"And they'll be punished as such" said Bran, glancing out the window where sunlight was just entering the room "Cersei's trial will start in a few hours. Her guilt is assured but this is a chance to finally end the war that's torn Westeros apart"
"Bran, what are you planning?"
His brother's dark eyes could have been a thousand years old "If Westeros is to move forwards the record of the past must be clear. Cersei Lannister will pay for all of her crimes today, and the truth will liberate the falsely accused"
The trial of Cersei Lannister was both everything Sansa wanted and somewhere she didn't want to be. Bran was already seated on the Iron Throne when Sansa took up position in a high backed chair that had been placed beside him. She and Bran would preside over the trial and make the final decisions but a row of chairs had been set up to Bran's left for Sam, the High Septon and Varys. They would act as advisors but it wasn't their opinions that would decide Cersei's fate.
The throne room was quickly filling with those who'd come to watch, including many of the Northern lords, lord Royce, Ser Davos, Gendry and many of the people of Kings Landing. In the corner of her eye Sansa caught sight of lord Lydden and Ser Harys Swyft making their way into the audience. A rush of anger flooded her at the sight - she'd hoped they'd left. At least Jeyne Lydden wasn't with them. From what Jon had told her the girl had better hope she never caught sight of her again. How dare she treat Tyrion as if he was some terrible creature?
"Are you ready for this?"
Bran's question pulled Sansa to the present. She drew in a deep breath, steeling her nerves "More than ready"
"Apologies for last night" he said, though his tone held no hint of remorse "everything happened too quickly to give you any warning. I trust you and Tyrion are alright?"
"We're fine" said Sansa "Missandei and Grey Worm have stayed with Tyrion"
Fine was an easy word. It saved Sansa from going into details she'd rather not. Besides, Bran was the three-eyed raven - emotion was lost on him these days and Sansa doubted he'd sympathise with her tiredness. In a perfect world Sansa would have been well-rested for this trial, but the chaos of last night had left her utterly drained and she was more worried about Tyrion than ever. He'd only woken once during their stay in the prison like room and she'd quickly given him milk of the poppy to let him sleep through the pain and confusion. Maester Henly wasn't at all happy that Tyrion had been moved or that he'd been given milk of the poppy.
"We cannot let lord Tyrion grow dependent on it" warned Henly "after the trauma he's endured we must be very careful in his recovery"
"I don't want him in pain" said Sansa
"The pain is temporary and there are herbal remedies that can take the edge off it, but lord Tyrion is a man prone to excess and I suspect he would quickly become dependent on anything that numbed his horror"
"You don't know him" said Sansa, oddly defensive about the Maester's cutting assessment of Tyrion
Henly raised an eyebrow "Before this incident how much wine would you say lord Tyrion drank? Only at meals and feasts or was it more often than what would be considered normal?"
Sansa hadn't answered; there was no need to. Tyrion's reputation was known throughout Westeros and she couldn't deny the Maester's words no matter how much she wanted to. It was an unfortunate truth to accept but Tyrion had drank constantly before his weeks of imprisonment and torture - how much would he drink after? If they kept giving him sedatives and potions to take his pain away would he grow dependent on it?
Knowing Henly was right didn't make the reality of the situation any easier to swallow. Tyrion had been awake just before she left and in obvious discomfort; he hadn't spoken to her but he'd smiled as she leaned over him. There was something different about it though, and for a moment Sansa had thought Tyrion recognised her - truly recognised her, not the moony eyed excitement he'd shown towards her since being rescued.
All thoughts of Tyrion were quickly swept from Sansa's mind as the doors to the throne room opened. She cursed herself for losing concentration. Jon and Arya had already entered the hall and taken up seats along from Davos and Gendry, while Brienne was now striding up the aisle with three guards behind her.
Between them walked Cersei Lannister. Her hands were in chains before her though she walked as if she was going to the throne rather than the box before it where all prisoners were held during trial. It was unusual for Brienne's mask of stoicism to slip but Sansa was certain she saw a flicker of satisfaction cross the Knight's face as she connected Cersei's chains to the front of the box.
The former Queen held her head high but her imprisonment and last night's escape attempt had taken a toll on her. Dirt streaked her clothes and her short golden hair lacked its usual sharpness. Her face was gaunt and signs of age were creeping into her once beautiful face. She didn't look like a Queen anymore. No matter how she held herself the power that had surrounded her was gone, leaving her vulnerable before the throne.
'Good' thought Sansa, satisfaction curling through her 'it's long past time she knows how it feels to be powerless'
"I Brandon Stark, King of the six Kingdoms and protector of the realm do hereby open the trial against Cersei Lannister" announced Bran, his voice carrying through the room "May the Gods punish the guilty"
There was something odd about the Stark boy.
Cersei paid little attention as the charges against her were read out by Varys, and even less attention when the so-called King called forth witnesses who'd seen the Sept of Baelor explode. None of the witnesses were people Cersei knew - most of them were small folk and servants - but they'd seen enough to testify against her, and the Stark boy knew exactly what questions to ask. Cersei let their accusations wash over her; she was a lion and the opinion of the wolves didn't matter - the sheep weren't worth listening to.
Instead Cersei took her time examining the room and in particular the King. Brandon Stark was a strange boy. Far taller than when Cersei had first met him at Winterfell, though his legs seemed to hang uselessly over the edge of the throne. A crippled King - how could she lose the throne to a cripple?
'The things I do for love'
Jamie and his impulsiveness. If he'd let her talk to the boy he could have been scared into silence - there had been no need to push him from the tower. Unease crept through Cersei as the boy's dark eyes watched her. There was something unnatural about him. She would gladly push him through a window now if given half a chance. Though not with as much joy as the murderous bitch sat beside him.
Sansa Stark still had all the courtesies of a perfect lady but the coldness around her was chilling. A smile tugged at Cersei's mouth. Perhaps it was grief for her husband. Escape may have been thwarted last night but the imp was dead and Cersei was the last of her house now. No Lannister guard would dare speak against her and the support of the Westerlands was hers once again. Her eyes moved to the left of the hall as yet another supposed witness droned on. The badger of Lydden and the Rooster of house Swyft were easily spotted amongst the crowd.
All she had to do was wait for her chance to speak. The trial was far from lost and the Starks were too honourable to find her guilty without complete evidence.
"Cersei of house Lannister, the court has heard evidence from multiple witnesses that on the day the Sept of Baelor exploded you and King Tommen should have been there but did not arrive" started the Stark boy "There are further statements from guards and servants who claim you used Gregor Clegane to prevent King Tommen leaving the Red Keep on that day. The explosion killed hundreds including the High Sparrow, Queen Margaery Tyrell, Ser Loras Tyrell and your uncle Kevan Lannister"
"You stand accused of using wildfire to blow up the Sept of Baelor causing the death of the Queen, many lords and nobles and hundreds of other innocent victims" said Sansa "How do you answer these charges?"
"Not guilty" said Cersei, forcing her face into a look of remorse "what happened to the Sept was a tragic accident and it is fortunate that myself and the King were running late that day or we might have been caught in it too"
Sansa's eyes narrowed "If you'd paid attention to the witnesses several of them confirmed you were nowhere near Tommen that day. He didn't know what you were planning and when word got to him he threw himself from the window of his chambers. I'd say you were guilty of killing not just Queen Margaery but King Tommen as well"
"Have I no right of reply?" snapped Cersei
Bran Stark's voice never changed in tone "Are there any witnesses you would call in your defence?"
"Qyburn. He was my hand at the time, he knows I was running late that day and that Tommen and Margery were growing apart. That's why Tommen wasn't in the Sept and spared the explosion, and then tragically lost himself in grief when he heard the news"
Cersei cared not for the people who'd died in the explosion of the Sept but the mention of Tommen had struck a raw nerve. What right did they have to speak of her son?
Bran nodded to the guards and a few minutes later Qyburn was led into the throne room with his hands chained before him. Cersei met his eyes as he passed her but there was no time to talk as he was led to the witness box.
"Qyburn, you also stand accused of multiple crimes. This trial is for Cersei Lannister but it is also for you. Whatever you say can and will be used to judge your innocence or guilt" said Bran "For now you have been called as a witness; did Cersei Lannister use wildfire to destroy the Sept of Baelor killing hundreds of people?"
Cersei's mouth turned upwards. This was it. Qyburn's testimony along with her denial would plant the seeds of doubt in the crowds mind, and more importantly in the lords of the Westerlands.
"Yes, your Grace" said Qyburn, without hesitation "she is guilty as charged"
The room faded around Cersei as fury turned her vision red. She yanked her chained hands against the box as she twisted towards Qyburn.
"You traitor! You were nothing without me"
"I was only a servant" he said simply, glancing up at Bran "I carried out the Queen's orders as she commanded. She wished to rid herself of her enemies and would not stand trial in the Sept, so she set a plan in motion to put an end to both"
Cersei's hands trembled as the damned chains refused to budge. If she could reach Qyburn she'd gladly kill the bastard with her own hands.
Bran and Sansa were talking with the three sat on chairs along from them, of which Cersei recognised only Varys. One was a fat boy dressed as a Maester and the other wore the robes of the High Septon. All the time Qyburn stood there waiting patiently, no hint of remorse for betraying her on his face.
"The evidence is more than substantial" announced Bran "Both I and Lady Stark find Cersei Lannister guilty of murder, treason and Queenslaying"
Sansa's eyes were icy as she spoke "Now the trial will consider more recent crimes. Cersei of house Lannister, and Qyburn, former hand of the Queen - you are both charged with torture and violation of the rights afforded to hostages during a war"
"Hostages and prisoners of war have no rights" said Cersei, meeting Sansa's gaze without flinching
'Is this what it comes down to little dove?' she thought 'You can deny it to yourself but I can see it in your eyes; you don't want justice - you want revenge'
"You broke the commons law of decency that governs the treatment of hostages during a war, particularly those of a high rank. With Qyburn you conducted illegal and unethical experiments on your victim, torturing them daily for weeks on end" said Bran, his monotone voice momentarily carrying an undercurrent of disgust "It is for these crimes you will both now answer"
Cersei took one look at Qyburn before straightening her back. It had been foolish to trust him - the man was a snake and had clearly decided she had no chance of escape. His only hope of escape was to convince the Starks he was merely a servant but Cersei was far from finished. She was the last of the Lannisters now; the Westerlands and the Lannister guards were once again hers to use.
"You call him by victim but let's be very clear who you speak of" said Cersei, lifting her voice so it reached every corner of the room "You refer to my little brother, Tyrion Lannister"
"The identity of your victim holds no importance here" said Sansa
"Oh but it does" said Cersei "I agreed to trade my hostage - that foreign girl - for my little brother"
"Who you then spent weeks torturing" snapped Sansa
"It was long overdue justice and nothing more" replied Cersei, dipping her chin to her chest and softening her tone "He killed my father, he killed my eldest boy. He was found guilty of regicide but escaped justice. Yes, he was punished for his crimes but I did not kill him. Whatever torture you speak of was done at Qyburn's hand and not mine"
"I did nothing the Queen did not instruct me to do" said Qyburn "she wanted her brother kept alive as long as possible and subject to as much pain as he could tolerate before death"
"Lies" said Cersei "I punished him by making a walk of atonement through the city. What happened to him after that was Qyburn's doing"
"Your Grace-"
"Enough" cut in Bran "there is plentiful evidence of what occurred - including the testimony of several guards"
"I heard a rumour my brother is dead" said Cersei, forcing some sadness into her tone "Qyburn had little birds everywhere - I suggest it was they who killed him so he couldn't testify"
To Cersei's surprise Sansa smiled, her mouth curving upwards into a smirk.
"You've heard wrongly. Lord Tyrion is very much alive and the assassin you sent last night failed"
It had been so long since Cersei felt truly afraid - she couldn't remember the last time. But the truth in Sansa's eyes couldn't be ignored, and it threatened the hope Cersei had been clinging to.
"No!" said Cersei, twisting her head to see lord Lydden and Ser Harys Swyft "Casterly Rock is mine"
The lords were unmoved, merely shaking their heads in dismay. Cersei glanced around the room desperately, her chains rattling as hope crumbled before her eyes. If Tyrion still drew breath the wolves would ensure his claim to Casterly Rock over hers. Sansa's icy blue eyes were bright with amusement as desperation took hold of Cersei.
"The imp has no claim to it! He's a murderous little monster" she spat, directing her ire at the boy who dared to sit her throne "I'm the lady of Casterly Rock; I'm the rightful heir"
"You're deluded" said Sansa
"And you're wrong" said Bran, turning to his guard "Call in my witness, he's just arrived"
All eyes turned to the main doors of the throne room as they opened, and anger coiled through Cersei like a snake as her brother's sellsword companion walked into the room. With Qyburn occupying the witness box Ser Bronn of the Blackwater strode past her to stand off to the right of where she was chained.
"Aint this familiar?" he said, glancing at her chains as he passed "How's it feel to be on the other side eh?"
The rage bubbling through Cersei reached boiling point then. The iron cuffs bit into her skin as she wrenched her hands back and forth, a guttural scream escaping her.
"He doesn't look well" said Missandei, laying her hand over Tyrion's clammy forehead
"He be ok" said Grey Worm
The flicker of jealousy in Grey Worm's eyes as she tended to Tyrion never failed to amuse her - he should know by now his fears were unfounded. While Missandei couldn't deny she'd grown to care for Tyrion it went no deeper than friendship and the horrendous guilt that ate at her every time she saw him.
Tyrion had been awake when they arrived but less responsive than usual. He'd made little effort to move in the bed as he normally did and had stared at the ceiling for the past couple of hours before drifting to sleep. Whatever guilt Missandel had felt before, the sight of Tyrion's heavily bandaged shoulder and the grimace on his face as he slept only deepened it. This was her fault. If she hadn't been taken prisoner by Cersei the exchange would have never been made.
"You worry for him?" asked Grey Worm, furrowing his brow "I can get Maester"
"No, I think he's just resting" said Missandei, swallowing thickly
Grey Worm's dark eyes studied her across the bed for a moment "Not your fault"
"Yes it is"
"No" he insisted "He agreed to plan, but Queen betray him. Not your fault, not his fault - I should have rescued him. Should have rescued you"
The words sent a flutter through Missandei, though she was quick to vanquish the self-hatred lurking on Grey Worm's face "There was nothing any of us could do"
A hard truth to admit, but they'd believed in Daenerys until the end. Surely she'd known what was happening to Tyrion? At no point was there a flicker of doubt or remorse in their chosen Queen. She'd left Tyrion to suffer as if he was nothing. Over the past couple of weeks Missandei had begun to wonder if she and Grey Worm might have been sacrificed just as easily in time.
Missandei turned her attention back to Tyrion, adjusting the blankets over him. Seeing him like this awful; he was hardly the man they'd met in Mereen. Grey Worm seemed to be having a similar thought.
"Not right" he muttered
"Justice should be found today"
"It will" said Grey Worm "then Sansa take him home?"
Missandei nodded "She's eager to leave Kings Landing now - especially after last night"
"Are you ready go?"
It was no secret the Unsullied weren't settled in Westeros. King Bran had offered to let them remain but this strange place wasn't home for them.
"I am" she admitted "When Sansa and Tyrion go North might be best. I owe Tyrion my life - I'd like to repay a little of the debt"
"I owe him too. Twice he save Missandei of Naath when this one couldn't" said Grey Worm, his voice softening "That debt too big to ever pay"
Sansa's stomach twisted and churned at the sight of the jars sat on a table before the throne. Each of them told a tale of how Tyrion had suffered, not that Sansa needed the reminder. Deciding whether to use the jars or not had been a major point of debate but if Cersei was to face justice the full extent of her cruelty needed to be made clear, and the jars had certainly made the point. Samwell had looked queasy as he described the contents of each to the court and Varys' reading of Qyburn's journal had been enough that several members of the audience had left looking ill.
Not much longer - Varys was nearing the end of the journal as Cersei and Qyburn sat in their respective boxes. Sansa focused on them instead of the vile words echoing around the silent room.
Cersei's reaction to Qyburn's treachery had been better than she could have hoped. While Sansa had wanted Qyburn to suffer exactly as Cersei would Bran had convinced her to offer him some leniency in exchange for his testimony. The leniency only went so far. On Bran's orders Varys had visited the former Maester and shown him the evidence they had against him. Qyburn had agreed to testify against Cersei in exchange for an opportunity to speak in his own defence. Sansa wasn't sure what he hoped to achieve but the deal had already been made. Rather than simply reviewing the evidence and judging him guilty they would hear him speak before doing so - but there wasn't a chance he could free himself from these charges.
The arrival of Ser Bronn had incited Sansa's favourite moment so far. Cersei's petulant screech had drifted to her ears like the sweetest music. The former Queen may have come in here hopeful but little by little her plans had been destroyed. Discovering that Tyrion still lived had been the beginning of the end for whatever false image Cersei was trying to project. Steadily she'd grown more volatile and less careful in what she said and Bronn's arrival had tipped her over the edge. Sansa could see it in her face - the monster was waiting to come out and play. Qyburn's testimony had damned her as guilty for the Sept explosion and Ser Bronn's statement had simultaneously shifted any sympathy from Cersei and cleared Tyrion's name.
"I was at Highgarden when the old woman confessed" said Ser Bronn
"You heard her confession?" asked Varys
"No, but Jamie told me after. It was Olenna Tyrell that killed Joffrey, not Tyrion"
"Ser Jamie was close to his brother, perhaps he was lying to protect him"
"Nah. He was convinced it was her, and who could blame her? No one wanted to marry Joffrey, the little shit that he was"
"Did you ever believe lord Tyrion was guilty?"
"No, poison aint his style"
"You never spoke in his defence"
"Too bloody dangerous. His sister was paying people off to testify against him and make him look guilty - no one would dare speak up for the poor bastard"
Varys nodded "Would you say the Queen had a poor relationship with her brother?"
"Which one? She hated Tyrion for sure, but she sent me North to kill him and Jamie if they survived against the dead"
"You were unsuccessful"
"I made a deal with them. They might have been lazy about paying debts but at least they weren't bloody mad like Cersei"
Bronn's testimony along with statements from Podrick and Varys had been more than enough to clear Tyrion's name. They'd all painted a picture of a trial that was biased against Tyrion from the start and Sansa could see the shift in the faces of the crowd as their view of Tyrion changed from a man desperate to escape justice to a man unjustly accused and sentenced to death. Cersei had fell quiet after her outburst but the murderous gleam in her eyes had only grown sharper as Varys once again added a testimony that changed the perspective on Tyrion's actions.
"Do you believe Tywin Lannister knew the truth of Joffrey's death?" questioned Bran
"Certainly" said Varys "He was an intelligent man and I don't doubt at all he knew Tyrion was innocent. I imagine he suspected the Tyrells but finding Tyrion guilty was far more convenient"
"Why would he sentence his son to die?"
"He hated Tyrion from the moment he was born and his wife died. Cersei manipulated the trial against lord Tyrion but lord Tywin allowed it to happen. The night before Tyrion was to be executed his father was bedding the whore who had been Tyrion's lover. Shae had been used against him in the trial and I do believe finding her in his father's bed was the final straw that drove lord Tyrion to murder that night"
Nothing could quite wash away the stain of kinslaying from Tyrion's hands, but the trial had given them a chance to add some perspective to his actions. Tyrion had killed the father who knowingly sentenced his innocent son to die whilst taking his former lover to bed.
Finally Varys finished reading the journal. Sansa chanced a look at Jon and Arya in the crowd. Arya's face was unreadable but Jon looked absolutely sickened, while Ser Davos and Gendry looked no better along from them. Even Brienne had turned a sickly colour as she stood with Bran's guards.
"Qyburn, this journal is signed as yours and contains your notes on what was inflicted on Tyrion Lannister while in his sister's custody. Is this the truth?" asked Bran
"Yes, your Grace" said the man "I carried out each act under Queen Cersei's explicit instruction. Though a number of his injuries were sustained through the guards beating of him, and Euron Greyjoy is responsible for the pattern of burns on his upper arm"
It sickened Sansa to the pit of her stomach that Qyburn was trying to position himself for mercy, but in Cersei it had elicited an entirely different reaction. The former Queen rose to her feet, locking eyes with Sansa as her chains pulled taunt.
"It's all true" said Cersei, her green eyes burning into Sansa across the room "I had the lecherous little monster beaten, humiliated and given tattoos so everyone knows exactly what he is. I had him walk naked through the city and allowed Qyburn to do his experiments on him"
"You've not been asked to speak" warned Bran, but Cersei wouldn't be silenced
A vicious smile curved over her face as she continued "I grabbed his dirty little cock and I pulled and twisted until he was sobbing-"
"Enough" called Sansa, unease settling around her heart. One look at Jon's face made her question whether this had truly been a good plan. Using the jars and the book ensured everyone knew what kind of monsters Cersei and Qyburn were - no one would think twice about them facing harsh justice - but it had also laid open Tyrion's suffering to the people of Westeros. With nothing left to save herself Cersei was now seeking to do as much damage as possible before the end, heaping yet more shame on Tyrion.
'Gods what have we done?' she thought with rising panic. The focus on revenge had somehow blinded her to the consequences of her actions. Tyrion would be utterly ashamed.
"It's time to end this" said Sansa, as Cersei continued ranting about the many ways she'd humiliated her brother "quickly"
Bran nodded, signaling for his guards to restore order in the room.
"Cersei Lannister you are found guilty of all charges and are hereby sentenced to death. The manner of your death will be decided by Sansa Stark, the lady of Winterfell and representative of the North" announced Bran
"Guards, remove her to the black cells" called Sansa "her sentence will be carried out tomorrow"
The former Queen did not go quietly. It took three guards to control her as she was hauled from the room, still ranting and protesting her innocence. If she'd hoped to win sympathy from the crowd she'd failed badly. The knowledge that Tyrion was alive and Qyburn's betrayal of her had shattered any chance of winning support. The Lannister guards and lord of the Westerlands might not like Tyrion but supporting him was far safer than being associated with Cersei.
"Qyburn, you requested a chance to speak in your defence in exchange for your honest testimony. You are now granted such time" said Bran, when the doors had finally closed behind Cersei
It was difficult to look at Qyburn without feeling nauseous. The man had listened to his journal of horrors being read with only a poor attempt at looking remorseful. Cersei was a monster but Qyburn was inhuman. Even now Sansa thought his remorse was more for the end of his experiments than guilt for the horror he'd inflicted on Tyrion.
"There is no point denying what I've done - everything in my journal is accurate. I only ask that you consider my actions were not my own, but were ordered by Cersei Lannister who then sat the throne. In truth I am a healer - I pursue knowledge to better serve people" said Qyburn, turning his eyes from Bran to her "I did to lord Tyrion what Cersei ordered me to, but I can fix the damage. Give me the chance to heal him. I have several ideas for repairing the damage to his hand - it will never function as it did but it could still be useful to him"
Coldness crept through Sansa as she observed the former Maester. This was his plan? Had Qyburn truly thought them stupid enough to believe he was merely a servant following orders? She and Bran had taken statements from several guards before the hearing today - they all agreed that Qyburn had a fascination with dangerous, gruesome experiments and that Cersei had given him free reign to pursue it. The man was arrogant - and foolish if he believed she'd ever allow him near Tyrion again.
"This is what you offer?" asked Bran
"I offer my services your Grace. My knowledge of the human body and healing would be invaluable, and at your disposal. If allowed to continue my studies there is no limit to what I may discover; cures for sickness, more effective treatment - ways to heal the crippled"
The last part was directed at Bran. Sansa could see the curiosity in Qyburn's eyes, no doubt considering how he might try and fix Bran's legs.
"You could cure me?" asked Bran, his tone never changing
"I can make no promises, but given the proper chance to research I don't see why not. There is no reason you or lord Tyrion need be cripples" said Qyburn
"You believe your work is enough for your life to be spared?" asked Sansa
Qyburn didn't look like a monster - he looked no more than a quiet old man. One glance at the jars containing pieces of Tyrion was enough to remind Sansa exactly what he was.
"I ask for mercy. I would spend the rest of my life pursuing my work under your direction" said Qyburn, his eyes gleaming "My life would be one of service"
Bran lowered his voice, speaking only to her "It's your choice. You are Tyrion's wife - you decide what treatment he receives"
"You wouldn't want him to try for you?"
"No" said Bran, folding his hands in his lap "I may fly, but I will never walk again"
In the end there was no choice. Once again Sansa was faced with the responsibility of deciding Tyrion's care and she made the only choice she could. One look at Bran and the faces of Sam, Varys and the High Septon was enough to know they were in agreement.
"No" said Sansa "Your crimes are monstrous and unnatural. What you turned Gregor Clegane into is evidence enough of your unethical experiments. Lord Tyrion is not well enough to speak against you but I've seen enough to know you haunt him. Your request for mercy is denied, and you will face the full consequences of your actions alongside Cersei"
'I'm sorry Tyrion' she thought 'I don't know what you would want, but I can't let this man near you - even if he could fix your hand'
Qyburn's eyes narrowed dangerously "You don't understand, my work will save lives-"
"But not yours. I hereby sentence you to death, the manner of which shall be decided by lady Stark" said Bran, nodding to his guards "Return Qyburn to his cell. Justice will be delivered tomorrow at noon"
"That wasn't necessary" muttered Jon as they left the throne room.
A warm breeze greeted them as they stepped into daylight, and it was a welcome relief from the stuffiness of the throne room. Sansa had disappeared almost as soon as the meeting was brought to an end and it was probably for the best - Jon was less than pleased that the jars and journal had been used as evidence.
"It was necessary" said Arya "Cersei and Qyburn deserve to pay for their crimes. It's only right everyone knows exactly what they were"
"Was it right for Tyrion?" said Jon, shaking his head "You and Sansa and Bran - it's like I don't know you at all anymore"
"You'd have just found Cersei guilty. What Sansa and Bran did made sure everybody knows she blew up the Sept. It cleared Tyrion's name too. He's not guilty of regicide anymore"
"I'm not talking about. That journal should have been burned. Nobody ever needed to know that, unless Tyrion wanted them to know"
Arya was well aware of the point Jon was making but it still made little sense to her. Tyrion had already been utterly humiliated - surely nothing could hurt him now.
"It was all the truth" said Arya, shrugging "and it made sure Cersei and Qyburn will face justice. It's not like he was there listening to it. Sansa isn't going to show him the jars or the journal if that's what you're worried about"
"If you were in Tyrion's place would it be worth it? Everybody knows exactly what happened to him now. The rumours will spread. Do you really think he'd want everyone to know his sister molested him?"
Arya's face didn't change but a slither of unease crept through her. Perhaps it was too much.
She shook her head clearing the thought. Tyrion wasn't responsible for what happened to her; there was no reason for him to be ashamed. Arya refrained from convincing Jon of that though. He was looking at her as though she was a stranger and it stirred a feeling she didn't particularly care for.
"Do you think Sansa will let me take my turn with him now?" she asked, changing the subject "I've been patient"
"Arya…" sighed Jon
"Fine. I suppose I can wait until tomorrow. Sansa will probably be fussing over him now anyway. She can't go a few hours without seeing him"
"Please…" murmured Tyrion, staring vacantly at the ceiling above him
Sansa's heart lurched as she sat beside the bed. Whatever joy she'd felt at finally triumphing over Cersei Lannister had quickly disintegrated as she returned to Tyrion's room. Missandei and Grey Worm had told her how he'd been largely unresponsive all day and after sleeping for a while he'd woken in distress. Maester Henly had checked on him and assured them it was the pain of his injuries and repressed trauma beginning to surface that had caused it, but there was nothing to do but wait out the storm. Missandei had tried to keep him comfortable until she arrived, but even then Tyrion had shown no sign of recognizing her, seemingly lost in his own mind.
Grey Worm and Missandi had left soon after Sansa arrived and she'd summoned the Maester again to demand treatment from him.
"No" he'd said flatly "Lord Tyrion will be sedated for his journey North, he cannot be sedated now as well"
"Don't you care that he's in pain?" she'd demanded, watching Tyrion whimper beneath the sheets
"Of course I do my lady, but I care more about his long term recovery. I've given him an herbal drink to soothe some of his discomfort but I'd say his current situation is caused by his mind"
"He's not responding to anything we say or do!"
"He is lost in his mind my lady. I understand you wish to spare him any pain but sooner or later he must confront the trauma he endured. After the procedure on his shoulder I told you he seemed more aware before becoming distressed. I dare say the same is happening now. Too many memories at once are overwhelming him. Keep him calm and offer him your comfort if you wish, but lord Tyrion's confusion will never pass unless we give him a chance to confront reality"
"What can I do for you?" asked Sansa, brushing her fingers against his cheek "Anything Tyrion - just tell me what you need"
"She's here" he whispered, still staring at the ceiling. Sansa had realised early on Tyrion wasn't speaking to anyone in particular and didn't seem to know she was there
"Who's here?" she asked
"She's here…left me to die…" a shudder going through him "so much pain"
"You're safe now. We're going home soon, remember?"
Tears escaped Tyrion's eyes, spilling down his face as he was lost in whatever dark thoughts were occupying him. It was a cruel cycle. If Tyrion moved his injuries pained him, but his mind was punishing him just as much.
"Don't want to die" he whispered
"You're not going to die" she said firmly, despite the fear gnawing at her heart. Tyrion was ghostly pale and the thought of losing him after all that had happened terrified her.
"Please…don't want to die…don't want to be alone"
Sansa pulled herself from the chair to sit at the side of his bed, her eyes moving over his frightened face to his left hand that clutched his blue blanket like a lifeline. She cupped his face, hoping the action might bring his attention to her. Green eyes found her face but there was no recognition there - only fear.
"You're not alone, and I won't let anyone hurt you" she promised, holding her hand out to him "Can I hold your hand?"
Many times since Tyrion was rescued she'd tried to hold his hand but he always refused to relinquish his hold on the blanket, and was very sensitive to anyone trying to separate him from it - as if he feared that hand might be rendered useless like his right.
"No more please, no more" he murmured "Didn't kill them…trusted her until…not Sansa, please not Sansa"
"I'm right here" she told him, a lump in her throat "I'm safe Tyrion. Don't worry about me, I'm right here with you"
"Going to kill me…didn't do it. Please, don't want to die…not here….not alone"
Sansa brushed her fingers over the back of Tyrion's hand "I'm with you, always"
A moment passed before Sansa noticed Tyrion's hand had moved. He'd released his blanket and turned his hand over on the bed, though he was shaking as if fearing a trap. It took all of Sansa's willpower not to immediately grab the offered hand. Instead she carefully slipped her fingers around his, slowly and carefully letting him feel her touch before enclosing his hand in both of hers. She drew his hand to her mouth, pressing a light kiss on the palm of it before gently lacing her fingers between his.
"Thank you" she said, a smile tugging at her mouth "I always feel safe when you're close; let me do the same for you"
Tyrion had quieted at the action, though he was still visibly upset. Perhaps the Maester was right and Tyrion needed a chance to work through his confusion, but Sansa would make sure he wasn't alone to do it.
His focus steadied on her for a moment, a wary hope hiding in his eyes "Home?"
Warmth spread through Sansa at the question; enough that her guard dropped for a single moment
"Only if you're there with me"