Author's Notes: Hello everyone. Thanks for liking my story. As always Martin owns Game of Thrones.
For the next few days Sansa waited in tense anticipation. Every time she saw anyone in armor, which was every day, or heard knocking on the door to their quarters she nearly panicked, convinced she had been found out. It wore at her, causing her to grow drawn and pale, fortunately if anyone noticed they attributed it to the news of her family. But as the days passed she felt her nerves settling as it dawned on her that she had, in fact, gotten away with it.
Her fear was replaced by satisfaction at what she had done. She felt a secret thrill whenever she went out; to walk among the enemies of her family, having them all look at her and not realizing that a killer walked among them. She was eager to strike again.
Her enthusiasm, however, was now tempered by caution and experience. Her success had been due in no small part to luck. Pycelle had been a drunk old man and even then she had nearly bungled it. Whatever she did next she would have to be more careful, more subtle about it. But try as she might she could not think of what she could do.
When inspiration came it came from a most unexpected source. Four days after Pycelle died her husband returned late. Surprisingly; he was not drunk, he threw himself into a chair with a weary sigh. "Get me some wine," he told a servant; "And see if it cannot restore my sanity."
"Are you unwell my lord?" Asked Sansa; playing the role of the dutiful wife as she had been taught and as was expected of her.
"Only bone weary my dear. The small Council has been meeting all day. Really; that old bugger Pycelle made a mess of things by getting himself killed."
Sansa's ears pricked up but she had to keep it from showing. If she seemed too eager it would rouse his suspicion but she had to know why Pycelle's death was causing the Small Council so much trouble. Apart from the satisfaction it caused her there might be some way she could turn it to her advantage.
"Why would his death be causing you so much trouble my lord?" She asked. Keeping her voice quiet and keeping any trace of interest out of it.
"Oh," he said with a groan; "With him dead the Citadel will have to appoint a new Grand Maester. The last time they tried to do that they were going to put Gormon Tyrell in his place. Well, my father wasn't going to have a Tyrell on the Small Council so that is why he got old Pycelle back on the Council."
"But the King is going to marry a Tyrell, why would he object to a Tyrell being on the Council?"
"Oh, don't I know it." Her husband groaned. "Do you know why the King is marrying the Tyrell girl? Because we need House Tyrell because we cannot win this war without them; and oh, do those rose-scented little twits know it especially that dried up old harridan Olenna Tyrell.
"Ever since the Battle of Blackwater they've been trying to push in. First marrying their girl to the King, then trying to marry you to the Knight of the Flowers and finally marrying the above mentioned knight to my darling sister, the poor sot; and the more the Tyrells push in the more the Lannisters are pushed out and does that ever annoy Father and Sister dear."
"So your father does not like the Tyrells." Sansa asked, hoping she sounded stupid and not overly interested.
"Oh he hates every last one of them almost as much as my sister does," he replied, tilting his head back so he could stare up at the ceiling; "Especially the Crone of Thorns." His face took on a speculative look and he tapped his wine glass and when he spoke it was more to himself than to her. "Which, when you think about, it is rather a shame since we need a marriage or two to cement this alliance. The two are so alike they would be a perfect match for one another." He seemed to think about that for a moment or two then shuddered and drained his glass.
Sansa said no more. She did not want to make him curious about her sudden interest in things. Besides she now knew all that she needed to know. The Lannisters were dependent on the Tyrells; without them they might lose the war and if they lost the war they would be destroyed and without the Lannister's protection the Boltons and Frey would be done for as well. There was no way Stannis could trust such blatantly treacherous houses; he would have to destroy them to secure his rule and win the loyalty of those they had betrayed.
All she had to do was find a way to drive the Lannisters and Tyrells apart and do it in such a way as to ensure no reconciliation was possible. She turned and walked from the room. She knew of just such a way and she thought she knew how to bring it about.
Author's Notes: Hello everyone I hope you continue to like the story. Sorry about the shortness of the chapters. How am I doing in sticking to the characters in speech and actions are they true to the characters? I would like a knife-wielding Sansa but really that just isn't her and it would just make her another Arrya. Fear not though there will be more bodies before the end. That is it for now will write again, please keep praying for Shawn and all who need it and may Jesus bless you all.