Memories

During their journey North, Jon and Daenerys had become lovers. Tyrion felt ambiguous about it. Love could make them stronger allies, but also made the relationship more fragile. Potentially volatile. Tyrion himself was not looking forward to Winterfell. The Northern Lords had not taken the news kindly and apparently even Sansa was not pleased with her brother's decision. Her bastard brother's decision to bend the knee. Tyrion feared what might happen once they arrived. He hadn't even time to consider he'd be meeting Sansa again. They'd only been married for a short while, but he hadn't forgotten it. The shame of being unable to cloak her; the horror of Joffrey making his 'funny' remarks. And Sansa herself, telling him she might never care for him. She had just been a child, he told himself, a frightened one at that. Still, it had stung, though the fact that the marriage had been unconsummated had helped in convincing Jon that he was trustworthy. Or had it? It had been a very awkward conversation, as all such conversations were.

Jaime had told him that Olenna had confessed to poisoning Joffrey. Not Sansa after all. Not that he'd really doubted that, but still. Talk of how she'd killed that husband of hers had made him wonder. Perhaps there was more to her than met the eye. She had left him behind. She had ran and he'd been imprisoned. Tyrion had not felt too angry about it at the time, but it had been a betrayal of sorts. Still, that was all in the past now. The immediate future brought larger problems than Lady Sansa. Or so he thought.