He doesn't want me. He never will.
It was all that Sansa could think of.
After Tyrion's rejection (she didn't go as far as to cause a proper rejection, but she still saw it as such), she could only do what she could to avoid her husband.

For a cruel jape of fate, now that she didn't want to see him, it seemed like she was continuously bumping into him.
Suddenly, for some merciless coincidence, he had time to sup with her, Rickon and Tommen almost everyday.
He was always his usual ironic, self-deprecating, witty self, as if the bath tub incident never happened.
Sometimes she could feel his mismatched gaze over her, but always avoided to return it.
Sansa could barely look him in the eye. It was too awkward.
She tried to eat as fast as she could, and she retired to the bedroom as soon as possible.
And yet, when he was with them, she couldn't help noticing how helpful he was with Rickon, how his presence seemed to instantly light up the atmosphere in the room (at least for Tommen and her brother, if not for her).
Even spending time with Lyanna and Wylla couldn't lift her mood.

He could have been mine.
It was agony to think about it, but she couldn't stop.
It was so unfair. She wondered when his feelings for her had changed.
Probably when he didn't have his father breathing on his neck ordering him to consummate the marriage anymore, she decided.
He never wanted to marry her in the first place, after all. He had told her so the very day of their wedding.

She wondered how things would have been if she had insisted to consummate their union on their wedding night.
It was an absurd thought, she knew. She was barely more than a child back then, there was no way he could have been happy to bed him (or anyone else, for that matter).
But she couldn't stop fantasizing about it. How would it feel to wake up everyday in his embrace. To kiss him goodnight. How it would be if he had got her with child. She could almost picture him, a baby boy with her red hair and his black and green eyes.
Getting lost in these fantasies was soothing, but it made the return to reality even harsher.

Days passed, and her misery deepened more and more.

The hall in which they held court was completely empty.
Sansa was very surprised. Rickon looked around in amazement.
-Does this mean I can go home now?- he asked hopefully.
-I don't know...- she replied.
It was very unusual. On court days, the hall was usually packed with people.
-Let's wait for a while.- she decided.

After almost a hour, a very disgruntled group of bannermen entered the room, escorted by a troop of Unsullied. Sansa recognized Grey Worm, the captain of the Queen's guard.
The Northerners looked very upset and kept complaining in high voices with each other.
-What happened?- asked Sansa.
-New security measures.- Grey Worm replied. He looked quite tired, she noticed, and his foreign accent was more audible than ever -We must interrogate everyone to find out if they're involved with anything suspicious.-
Oh no! she thought. He was certainly talking about the imaginary plot that she had mentioned to Tyrion.
-I see. But I will see to it from now on.- she asked, uneasy -I think I can handle the matter in an effective way.-
Grey Worm shook his head:- It's too dangerous. We must control the possession of weapons and...-
-They searched all my clothes!- protested the old Lord Ryswell- They even made me undress!-
Grey Worm was impassible:-We found some very suspicious items.-
An Unsullied handed him a phial. -This could be poison.- he announced.
-That's the medicine for my prostate!- Lord Ryswell objected, embittered.

Sansa grabbed Grey Worm's arm and led him farther from the crowd.
-Is this really necessary? I'm sure I can...er... lead the investigations and let you know if I discover something.- she said.
Grey Worm looked uncertain:- These are the Lord Hand's orders.-
-I'll talk to Lord Tyrion.-she assured -Now can you please leave these people alone so we can settle the disputes of the North?-
He thought about it:- I think I can leaver everyone but that lady.-
-Which lady?- Sansa inquired.

Grey Worm waved towards one of the guards, and one of them led on Lyanna Mormont, holding her by the arm.
She was trying, unsuccessfully, to wriggle out of the soldier's grasp.
-Leave me alone, you ball-less brute!- she yelled.
Oh no.
-What is the meaning of this? What has she done?- asked Sansa.
-She was found in possess of all these objects.- Grey Worm replied. At his words, the other Unsullied put on a table a bundle that revealed several daggers, a small knife, and a stiletto in its case.
-There must be a misunderstanding.- Sansa said -I'm sure Lady Mormont wasn't carrying all those weapons...-
-Of course I was!- Lyanna interrupted her
-Why?!- Sansa exclaimed, exasperated.
Lyanna shrugged: -My mother always told me to be prepared for everything.-
-We are at court, among guests!-
Her gaze sharpened:-That's what they said at Lord Edmure's wedding, too.-
Sansa was starting to feel the signs of an impending headache.
-Grey Worm, I pray you- she eventually said- release Lady Mormont this time.- she faced the young northern lady -And you, please refrain from carrying along an entire arsenal when you come to court!-
-But the Lord Hand...- Grey Worm objected.
-I'll talk to him. I'll go now.- Sansa decided.

Grey Worm told her that Tyrion was in the Queen's solar, and she marched there.
She found her husband and Daenerys Targaryen sitting at a desk, observing a map.
Their heads were close together and they looked very concentrated.
Their hands were resting on the table, barely an inch from one another.
The sight caused her a pang of jealousy.

-Excuse me, Your Grace.- she said coldly -I'm here to talk to Lord Tyrion.-
The Queen looked up at her in surprise:- Is it very urgent?- she asked.
She seemed vaguely upset.
What right did she have to be upset? she thought. Tyrion was still her husband.
-I'm afraid so, Your Grace.-
-I'll be right back.- Tyrion assured.
Daenerys curtly nodded, and he moved out of the room with Sansa.
Trying to contain her annoyance for the Queen's behaviour, she quickly explained him what had happened with the Unsullied.
-I told them to make inquiries discretely!- he snorted. -Don't worry, Sansa, I'll take care of that. They won't bother Rickon's court again.-
-Thank you.-

Once her anger had cooled down, she felt suddenly awkward again.
Seeing him with the Queen (his lover!) reminded her once more of how distant he was from her.
Now she just wanted to run away.
-I bid you a good morrow.- she mumbled and turned to go.
-Sansa... wait, I pray.- Tyrion stopped her.
He looked uneasy.
-Is there something amiss? Have I...- she saw him groping for words -...displeased you, somehow?-
Tyrion, only your lack of love for me displeases me.
It would have been so easy to tell him everything now. But what was the point?
He didn't care for her attentions, as he had demonstrated in their bath room.
It was more dignified, more ladylike, not to say anything, she thought.

In the meantime, Tyrion was still waiting for an answer.
-Of course not, my lord.- she answered at last, staring at the floor.
He looked at her for one long moment.
-I understand.- he said bitterly- A good morrow to you.- he said, turning back and waddling towards the Queen's solar.
-This reminds me- she heard her saying -Have you taken a decision about...?-
-Aye- Tyrion cut in - I have.-
He entered the room, and closed the door behind him.

It seemed like her misery was contagious.
Some days later, even Tommen glum and irritable, so different from his usual amiable self.
She was having a hard time concentrating on what she was explaining to Rickon.

-I like the Martell's words.- Rickon said at some point - "Unbowed, unbent, unbroken". They sound fierce.-
-They're a very proud house.- Sansa agreed.
-I like the Tyrell's words.- Tommen grumbled.
Rickon laughed:- They sound like such wimps! Who wants to "grow strong"?-
-I do.- Tommen objected. -I want to live in Highgarden and raise dog pups like Margaery's brother used to do when he was alive. I want to go to a nice place with animals and gardens and gentle people. Margaery said I could.-
He sounded on the verge of tears.
-You will.- Sansa assured -When you'll be sixteen, you and Margaery...-
-That's not what Uncle Tyrion said.- he mumbled.
-What did he say?-
-He said I must go to Casterly Rock, eventually.-

She didn't know what Tyrion had in mind for Tommen, but he probably planned to put people he trusted in the key locations of the realm.
-I don't like Casterly Rock. You can't even keep dogs there. There are only rocks and cliffs. They would break their legs and die.- Tommen complained.
-You could raise goats.- Rickon offered -Goats climb on rocks.-
-Yes, what a lovely idea!- Sansa said encouragingly -You could keep a pet goat.-
-It's not the same thing.- muttered Tommen.
-No, but also goats are very cute.- Sansa added -What do you think could a nice name for a goat?-
-Maybe.. Lady Escalade?- Tommen tried reluctantly.
Sansa smiled:- That's a very nice name.-
-Yeah- Rickon agreed – and when she'll be too old to climb around you could even eat her.-
Sansa rolled her eyes. Why, thank you Rickon.
Tommen looked hurt:-I'm not going to eat my pet!-
Rickon caressed his belly:- Yum, goat roast...-
-Shut up! Would you ever eat Shaggy?-
-Shaggy is not a pet.- Rickon replied with superiority.
-Yes, he is!-

-Stop, both of you.- Sansa interrupted them -No one is going to eat anyone's pet.-
-I already hate Casterly Rock.- announced Tommen, and stormed off.
Sansa massaged her temples. She didn't have the strength to deal with this crisis right now.

-Sansa?- Rickon asked hesitantly–are you upset with me?-
She looked up at him:-Of course not. Why should I be?-
Rickon shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other:-Because of what I said to Tommen and because I made fun of you in front of Tyrion.-
His blue eyes were wide open; he looked so much like Bran, when she had last seen him, and like Robb at his age.
She sighed:-That's fine, Rickon. It doesn't matter anymore.-
He smiled, relieved.
-I made something for you.- he announced.
She noticed that he was holding a stack of parchments under his back.
-Oh really, what is it?-
-A drawing. Something that might help you.-
He climbed on the chair to sit on her lap and unfolded the parchments on the desk.

Rickon still ha troubles reading and writing, but he loved to draw.
On the first page, there was a red-headed crying figure with a long dress (Sansa recognized herself) and next to her there was a big, brutal-looking character in a coat of armour.
-I imagined you couldn't be so sad because of me.- he explained, pointing at the crying girl in his drawing –So I figured out you must be troubled by something else. You must have an enemy. – he indicated the knight. –When I was in Skagos, an old wise man told me what I should do when I have an enemy. Something that even the First Men used to do.-
She tucked a wisp of hair behind his ear:- What did he tell you?- she asked, genuinely interested.
She was ready to hear a legend or a moral tale. She had always liked songs and stories, and she never heard of Skagosi folklore.
-It's about magic.- he told her seriously. –Are you sure you're ready for it?-
Aww, he was so cute, she thought.
-Aye, I'm ready.- she said in a solemn tone.

- I'll show you then.- Rickon turned the page, and on the next parchment the red-headed girl was sticking something through the chest of the knight.
-This is you killing your enemy.- he said.
-Oh.- exclaimed Sansa, a little taken aback –That's a bit… well… extreme. But maybe the old man told you about killing the fear of your enemy…-
-No, no- Rickon interrupted her –You actually kill him. Or her. You have to pierce their heart with a sword… or an arrow, or whatever you want.-

He turned the page, where the knight was lying on the ground, and the girl was holding something round in her arms.
-This is you with the head of your enemy.-
-His head?!- Sansa gasped, aghast.
-Aye, you remove his head so he won't come back to hunt you. And you carve out his eyes, so he won't see you.- he explained, matter-of-factly.
She noticed, horrified, that the girl in the drawing was holding two smaller balls in her hands.
-But Rickon… this is barbaric…- she managed to say. No words could describe her horror.

Rickon turned the page again, and this time there was a thick scarlet line on the chest of the knight, and the girl was holding something red in her hands. For more realism, her dress, the knight's body and the ground were splattered in crimson stains.
-Oh, look- Rickon announced happily -Here you're eating his heart.-
-I think that's enough.- she decided, setting the parchment aside.
-No, wait- he insisted, turning the pages –I still haven't got to the part where you feast on his liver… and then when you open his head and use it as a cup….-
Sansa took the parchment from his hands and out it face down on the table, repressing a shudder.

-I was just trying to help.- Rickon murmured, disappointed by her reaction –I'm just sorry that you are sad all the time.-
She instantly felt guilty.
-I know. That was very… very….- frightening? Horrific? Unsettling? Brutal?-…thoughtful of you. Thank you.-
-Did it make you feel better?- he asked with hopeful eyes.
-Er…- "If being merely sick is better than lovesick…." –It surely gave me much to think about.- she said in the end.
Rickon hugged her:- I love you, big sister.- he said.
She held him back, burying her face in his auburn curls: -I love you too, baby brother.-

She dreamed again about Tyrion one night.
They were travelling in the litter to Joffrey's wedding again.
Tyrion was reclined on one elbow and looked at her as he used to do back then.
-I had been thinking that when the roads are safe again, we might journey to Casterly Rock.- he said.- It would please me to show you the Golden Gallery and the Lion's Mouth, and the Hall of Heroes where Jaime and I played as boys. You can hear thunder from below where the sea comes in…-
She looked up at him:-That's an excellent idea. I'd love to see the places where you grew up.-
He smiled and leaned over to kiss her. She smiled in his kiss and caressed his cheek.
-I love you, my lady wife.- he whispered.

Sansa woke up.
Her bed felt very big and empty. She looked at Tyrion's shape in the other bed.
He looked very much like a child from this distance, but she knew that if she looked closer she could see that he was a grown man, and a wonderful man at that.
Maybe it was because of how tired she was, or because she was still shaken from the dream, but she felt so miserable. She couldn't hold everything back anymore and started sobbing, as quietly as she could, trying to choke back the tears.

Then she hears Tyrion's voice: -Sansa...?-
Does he never sleep? she asked herself in frustration.
She tried to steady her voice and say something to send him back to bed, but only a confused blubber came out.
-What's going on? Are you crying?- he asked.
-N-no... I'm well...- she sniffed.
-You are not.- he objected, standing up and approaching her bed.

She tried to clean up the tears on her face before he reacher her, but it was a hopeless attempt.
He climbed onto the bed and sat next to her, observing her face with a worried look.
-Sansa, what happened?-
She opened her mouth to say something to excuse herself, but instead she burst into an incontrollable sobbing.

Tyrion looked stunned. He opened and closed his mouth, apparently not knowing what to say, moved uncertainly towards her, raised a hand in her direction.
Just give me this damn hug, Tyrion!
In the end, he tentatively patted her shoulder.
He's just as insecure as I am, she thought.
So she leaned towards him and put her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder.

He finally returned the embrace.
He could have been hugging the Iron Throne, she thought, for how stiffly and gingerly he was holding her.
-There, there- he said, still sounding very confused- Calm down.-
Despite the situation, it felt so good to hold him, she thought. Her brow was pillowed against the delicate skin of his neck. She could feel his fast heartbeat. And his scent, oh, his scent...
-Can I do anything to make you feel better?- he asked.
-Yes, you can.-
-What?-

She didn't think it through. The temptation was too strong. She leaned her head back and pressed his lips against the point where his neck joined his shoulder. Then she moved towards his ear, placing small kisses on the way, parting her lips and gently sucking his skin...
-What... what are you doing?- he asked, dismayed.
There was no need to answer, she thought. She kept kissing him, on his jawline, then on his cheek...
-Sansa, no.- he said, wriggling gently but firmly out -No... please, stop.-

She felt numb for a moment, and then she realised what a mistake she had done.
She was so ashamed. She wanted to go away from him, to hide, to get away from his stare.
Suddenly, Wylla's idea of hitting him on the head didn't sound that bad. Even if it didn't serve her purpose, knocking him unconscious seemed a good way to escape the embarrassment.

She tried to get up from the bed and run away, but Tyrion held her by her wrists.
-No... don't.- he urged her, trying to catch her eye- Why?- he asked her. He looked genuinely stunned.
Sansa hid her face in her hands. It was too awkward.
-Were you trying to...bed me?- he hesitantly asked.
Oh gentle Mother, help me.
She feebly nodded.
Tyrion sighed and run a hand through his hair, apparently lost for words.
-Are you with child?- he asked after a while.
She lifted her eyes:-How could I possibly be?- she replied, sincerely puzzled.
Didn't he know how it worked...?
He closed his fingers into a fist, a gesture that she had learned to read as frustration:-If you are, I'd prefer you told me. There's no need to... try to cover it up.-
It took her a moment to understand what he was suggesting.
-What..?- she gasped -Of course not!- she exclaimed indignant. -How dare you? You're the one who has a lover, not I!-
It was his turn to look at her uncomprehending:-Me?-
-Yes!- she yelled -You... and the Queen!-

He simply stared at her for a moment, then, unexpectedly burst out laughing.
-Daenerys? Seven hells, you don't really believe what you're saying, do you?-
Sansa was confused:-But you are always together...- she insisted.
-Why yes, we are supposed to be, I'm her Hand.-
-She's the most beautiful woman in the world!-
Tyron sighed:-Aye, and I'm the ugliest man. Believe me Sansa, I'm really not her type. And she's not mine, for all that matters.-
-But you have other women!- she accused him- I saw you! Here, in this very room, with that...- she tried to recall her name- Dancy Waters!-
-Dancy?- he rubbed the scar where his nose used to be -Gods be good, it was one single time...-
She blinked:-So you're not lovers?-
-Obviously not. And Dancy is a whore, I paid her for... doing what she did.-
It still sounded so wrong.
-Why did you go to her?-
He rolled his eyes:-Because I was tired to have only my hand as a lover! Is that what you want to hear? It was more than two years since I've been with a woman. And for what it's worth I didn't go to her, she found me here. I met her years ago, in a brothel where I used to go to see... someone else. She said that last time I was Hand refusing her services brought me bad luck, and I shouldn't do the same mistake twice.- he sighed -I didn't expect you to care, in truth.-
-I didn't care.- she muttered.

-What is it then?- He locked his eyebrows in a line -Is it about the plot? Does this have anything to do with the plot to kill the Queen?-
-There's no plot to kill the Queen!- Sansa exclaimed, exasperated.
-What do you mean there's no plot?- Tyrion asked, shocked -You told me so yourself!-
She felt her cheek reddening.
-Oh, that. Yes. Well. Maybe it was a... misunderstanding.- she explained, averting his eyes.
-But...- he sounded confused -I spent the last weeks investigating... I put double guards at every door...Grey Worm hasn't slept in five days!-
Sansa covered her mouth with her hands:-Oh no! Poor Grey Worm!-
-On the other hand, this explains why I didn't find absolutely anything.- Tyrion said, more to himself than to Sansa -I thought it was the most cunning and mysterious plan I've ever faced...-

She didn't know what to say.
-Sansa, I don't understand. Is it a baby that you want?- he asked her, not unkindly, after a moment -Is this the reason? Do you want to be a mother?-
-No.- she replied -I mean, yes... eventually. But this is not the reason why I was kissing you.-
-And what is it, then?-
His mismatched eyes were fixed into hers and it took all her courage to say:- Because I want you- she said defiantly.
Tyrion widened his eyes in surprise, but said nothing. The room was so silent that she could hear his faint breath whistling through the scar of his nose.

-I want you- she repeated, gaining more and more courage at every word- I think about you all the time. I think about kissing you and doing... things to you.-
He blinked and stared at her incredulous:-To me?-
-Don't act so surprised. I know you knew. How could you not understand?-
-Oh yes, it was so clear!- Tyrion snorted -You pretty much ignore me for two years, then act all nervous and weird for a couple of weeks, then for some unfathomable reason you give me a back rub and therafter you proceed to avoid me as if you loathed the very sight of me. What in the seven hells was I supposed to understand from that?-
Sansa shrugged uncomfortably:-You make me sound so stupid if you sum it up like that.-
Thinking back, maybe her strategy wasn't so foolproof after all.

-Are you really not in love with the Queen?- she asked.
-By all means, no!- he exclaimed.
-But she's beautiful and.. she's the Queen!-
Tyrion shrugged:-She's so solemn though. She takes herself too seriously.- he imitated an austere tone- I, Daenerys Stormborn, First of Her Name, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, Mother of Dragons command you to go in the bedchamber and wait for me with your breeches down. - he grimaced -I don't think I'd like that.-
Despite the situation, Sansa couldn't help let out a chortle.
She sniffed up:-I thought you were disgusted with me.-
-I thought you were disgusted with me!-
-Oh please, I could never be disgusted with you.-
Tyrion merely raised his eyebrows.
-Fine, maybe... maybe I used to be.- she admitted -But you can't still blame me for something I said when I was thirteen!-
-I don't blame you... I'm just trying to understand. -he paused to gather his thoughts for a moment.

-When you came back two years ago I thought, well, hoped more like...- he sighed, uneasy again.
Oh, Tyrion!
-But soon it was evident that affection, let alone love, in our marriage was the last thing on your mind. I soon learned that it's no bloody good to wish for something you can't have. I was used since a very young age to make the most of what I had.- he took her hand- You didn't love me, but you were a wonderful wife under so many other aspects. You are a splendid ally, I couldn't wish for a better Warden in the North. I always tell the Queen about how great you are.-
So this explained Daenerys's continuous praise. She never thought Tyrion could have anything to do with it.
-I sometimes thought that perhaps there could come a time when we would be more than just allies, or friends, but it was so obvious that your feelings for me hadn't change since our wedding night that, as time went by, I accepted the idea that that was not to be.-
-I've always assumed that you were fine with our arrangement.- she murmured defensively.
-I am!- Tyrion assured -I really am. It's so much more than we could hope for when we married, seven years ago. That was an agony. At least I knew you didn't hate me. And there are other ways to obtain what you could't give me. A heir.-
Her eyes widened. Tyrion has a heir? When... who?
-I'm arranging with the Queen the officialness of Tommen's adoption. He will become my heir and change his name into Lannister. It's only fair after all, nobody ever was more of a Lannister than him and his siblings. He doesn't seem to be especially enthusiast of becoming Warden of the West, but he might change his mind. And maybe it's for the better. -his shrug was meant to be casual, but it looked more bitter- Perhaps I wasn't meant to have children of my own.-

The more Tyrion spoke, the more Sansa felt forlorn.
I am really like the Iron Throne, she thought. I never meant to, but I cut him.
-We can still have children- she protested -we can still change everything.-
Tyrion averted her eyes. That was not the reaction she was hoping for.
-Maybe I don't want to change it.- he said.

His words sank in like knives.
-Why?-. Her own voice sounded very small.
He smiled apologetically:-It's beautiful that you want to give it a try. It really is. But how can we know that it will work out well? How can I know that we won't end up hating each other? How can I be sure that you won't grow out of this... attraction, that you seem to feel now? And what would be left then?-

I will never hurt you, she wanted to say. I love you.
But she knew how empty and childish her words sounded. How many people claimed to have loved him, and then betrayed him? She remembered that Tyrion used to speak of his brother Jaime with affection, and now he never even mentioned his name.
-I can't promise you that everything will turn out well- she said at last -Nobody can promise that. We are the children of summer, and the next winter might be coming sooner than we think. But Tyrion- she put her hand on his scarred cheek – We've been through so much and we are still alive and still together. It's a miracle. We still have a chance to be happy. It would be a crime to waste it out of fear or mistrust.-
Tyrion was staring at her with big round eyes, and she didn't know if he wanted to believe her or if he was trying to think of a way to rebuff her.
-You are the man who saved King's Landing and led a sortie himself. You faced trials and execution, and the gods know what else you escaped in Essos. You rode a dragon, and now you're waging a war against an army of living corpses.- she smiled uncertainly- Are you really telling me that you're afraid of me?-
She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

He gave a small chuckle:- You can be quite fearful my lady.-.
There was something different in his eyes, a hint of playfulness that she could have sworn wasn't there just a second before, and she knew, just knew, that there was hope.
She still had her hand on his cheek, and moved her thumb over the lines of his face, the white scars and the little wrinkles at the corner of his mouth. She leaned closer to him, resting her brow against his.
-Tyrion, please- she whispered, kissing lightly his cheek and the corner of his lips -My husband... my good, brave husband...-
She heard him exhale, then his hands went up to her face and he looked her in the eye.
-Oh, what the hell- he exclaimed, and finally pressed his lips against hers.

For a split second she was so surprised that she could scarcely react.
She couldn't even think coherently. He's kissing me, he's really kissing me.
Then she closed her eyes and started to return the kiss. His lips were soft and his touch was delicate, but she wanted more. She teased his lower lip, sucking on it and gently biting it. She felt Tyrion smiling into the kiss then his warm tongue darting over her lips, so she opened her mouth to let it in.

His touch became more intense. When his warm soft tongue met hers, she let out a moan.
She tangled her fingers in the hair on the back of his head, feeling his stubble scraping against her chin.
His breath was hot and tasted like wine.
I'm breathing the air from his lungs, she thought.
His scent was everywhere and she finally breathed avidly in it.
He's mine!

She couldn't get enough. Every touch of his tongue left her longing for more.
There was a tingling sensation between her legs that she had never felt so strongly.
-It feels so good to kiss you.- she whispered.
He look surprised and smiled: not a sarcastic, lopsided grin, as he always did.
No, she could see true, spontaneous happiness in this smile.
It transformed his whole face, making it more innocent, almost childish, and beautiful.
She pulled him closer and kissed him again.
I need him to touch me.

Sansa let herself fall on the pillow, pulling Tyrion with her.
His whole weight was over her.
Sansa remembered that the Hound was very heavy and she had felt like she almost couldn't move under his embrace. Tyrion felt much lighter in comparison.
She liked it; she felt like she was more in control.
Also, she could feel the pressure of his manhood against her hip, making that tingling sensation transform into an uncontrollable urge.
She spread her legs, and Tyrion found himself between them. When his hardness pressed against her, he groaned in their kiss.
His mouth left hers and started to suck at the skin of her neck, sending shivers at the base of her spine. He moved the shoulder of her nightgown, nibbling at the skin between her shoulder and her chest.

She realised she wanted, no, needed to feel his skin against hers, without the barrier of the clothes between them.
Sansa slid her hands under the hem of his tunic and pulled it over his head, then cast it aside.
Finally she felt his chest under her palms: she took a moment to appreciate the feeling of his skin before placing a trail of kisses from his throat to his collarbone to the scar between his arm and his shoulder, then buried her nose in his chest hair. His smell was intoxicating, richer there than in his hair, but always clean and so... mouthwatering.

When she looked up at him, he was staring at her in marvel.
He held her face in his hands, and for a moment looked into her eyes as if he wanted to say something; in the end, he kissed her instead, deeply, passionately, finally without reserve.
His hands went to the straps of her nightgown again, sliding underneath them and caressing the skin of her shoulders.
-Would it be acceptable if I set you free from this worthless garment?- he teased her. His voice sounded faintly amused, and breathless.
She pretended to think about it:-You don't like it?-
-I very much prefer the other one, my lady. You know, the one with the lace here- he kissed her shoulder -here- his mouth moved on the neckline- and here.- his lips teased the top of her breasts.
-I thought you didn't even notice it.-
He grinned:-Of course I noticed it.-.
He unfastened the laces on the neckline of her shift and let one of the straps fall on her arm.
-I thought you didn't even look at me.- she said.
Tyrion shrugged:-I tried not to.-
-And did you manage?-
-Er... not all the time.-
She couldn't hold back a smile. So he wasn't so indifferent to her, after all.

But something still didn't make quite sense.
-Why did you turn me down then?- she asked.
Tyrion looked confused:- Turn you down?-
-When you were in the bathtub.- It still mortified her to think about it.-I thought you didn't like my touch.-
Tyrion grinned:-Oh, I sure liked it. All my parts liked it. One in particular was showing excessive enthusiasm...- he placed another kiss on her shoulder- That's why I asked you to stop.-
-What do you...- then it dawned on her -Oh!-
It suddenly felt like all the embarrassment of the past weeks had evaporated.

Also the other strap was fallen, and Tyrion gently pulled the top of the shift down, exposing her skin down to her waist.
-Seven save me- he said, in awe -These changed so much since the last time I saw them.-
Sansa felt suddenly shy: she always thought that ladies should have small breasts that made even a gown with a plunging neckline appear elegant and discreet.
She was always self-conscious of her generous bosom that had flowered in the last years.
She kissed him again, hoping to divert his attention, but to no avail.
-Excuse me, Sansa- he said seriously when they broke the kiss -I feel your exquisite teats and I should be properly acquainted.-
She couldn't help letting out a chuckle, and covered her flushed face with her hands.

He cupped one of them and caressed its skin slowly with his thumb. He lowered his mouth onto it and he brushed her nipple with his lips, so lightly it could have been a breeze blow. She realised she was holding her breath with anticipation. His mouth teased her again, tickling her, his tongue flickering idly on her nipple. Then he moved to the other one, always keeping his touch soft and delicate. She couldn't resist anymore, and, placing a hand on the back of his head, pressed him harder on her chest. Finally she felt his lips sucking on one of her nipples as his finger pinched lightly the other, and she let out a moan.

Tyrion moved his mouth over her belly, until he found the rest of the nightgown. She lifted her hips to help him slip it out.
When she was naked before him, he let his eyes travel on her body, as if he wanted to fix every little detail in his memory.
She could see that his eyes were full of hunger and desire, and his arousal clearly showed in the bulge of his breeches.

-You are so lovely.- he exhaled at last. All the irony had disappeared from his voice, leaving only amazement- So lovely...-
His mouth touched her knee, then the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
The urgent sensation between her legs had become unbearable.
She leaned down to take his face in her hands and pulled him up to kiss her.
Tyrion looked slightly taken aback, but then responded eagerly.

Finally she felt his warm skin against her, arms, shoulders, chest, stomach.
He was still wearing his breeches, so she fumbled at their laces, then rolled over to be on top of him and slipped them out.
Sansa knew that Tyrion's legs were not supposed to be beautiful: they were bowed and they were the source of most of his husbands's aches. But in that moment she could only see how fair his skin was, and how soft the hair that covered them looked.
She placed a kiss on his belly, right above the thicket of golden hair from which his manhood poked up.

His scent was more intense than ever there, less sweet than in his hair, more feral, even more inviting.
She felt the acute desire to take him into her mouth, to drink fully in his smell and in his taste, and to give him pleasure until he would spend his hot seed... she was sure that also his manhood would feel as good as the rest of him.
But a sudden thought stopped her. What if he thinks I'm too brazen?

She even wasn't a maiden; she was fairly sure that Tyrion had figured that out, and he didn't seem to be particularly bothered by the fact, but what if that scandalised him?
She didn't have much time to think it through: the moment passed, and Tyrion was again on top of her, his lips brushing the skin between her neck and her ear.
His hand slid between her thighs, and his fingers found the spot where her anticipation was pulsing, making her moan.

-Show me how you do it.- he whispered in her ear.
-What?-
-How you touch yourself.-
She felt her cheeks burn. Was it befitting of a lady to confess having given herself pleasure like beardless boys did?
-I...I've never done that.- she lied.
Tyrion only grinned against her:-Please, Sansa...-he insisted- I want to please you.-
His voice was low and warm, and caused her another stirring inside her.
He was her husband, after all... there was no need to be demure with him.
Hesitantly she slipped her hand below his, and caressed herself as she was used to do. Soon his fingers replaced hers.
-Like this?- he asked.
-A bit harder...yes...-

His touch felt like the seven heavens... every pressure of his hand sent a wave of heat and pleasure in her body. Her breath become heavy. After a while, she was so wet that his fingers were sliding on her flesh. He slid a finger inside her, causing her a groan of delight.
He kept looking at her, as if he was spellbound by seeing her enjoyment.
She couldn't wait anymore: she needed to feel him inside her.
-Tyrion- she urged him- please...-

Tyrion changed slightly his position, and finally she felt his manhood pushing against her wet flesh.
He didn't say anything, but his eyes were devouring her.
She let out a sigh when his tip entered her. Then he pushed himself inside her, so excruciatingly slowly that she could feel every single inch of his hardness entering her, and let out a heavy breath when they finally were fully joined.t was so good, she thought: his warmth, his touch and finally the sensation of fullness, of completeness of having him inside her.

She looked up at his face, which was flushed and ecstatic.
-We are truly married now.- he said, in awe.
-Yes.- she laughed, thinking how absurd it was to have waited so long -I'm so happy...-
Tyrion smiled and leaned down to kiss her, and while their tongues danced together, he started to move inside her.

This is the reason, she thought, absurdly, for a moment. This is why everyone makes a big deal out of sex.
Then she lost all coherent thoughts, because nothing mattered anymore except him, his touch, his thrusts, and the bliss that came from them.
She let her hands travel on his back, and clutched his butt, pulling him closer and deeper.

Tyrion put his hand on her thigh, and lifted her leg until her knee was close to his shoulder, then did the same for her other leg.
-Oh!-
With this new angle, she felt his manhood penetrating deeper and brushing against some spot inside her that made her want to moan.
His strokes became harder, more urgent.

She looked at his face, and saw the same delight that she was feeling. The thought that he was finally abandoning himself, without holding back, and was ready to lose himself inside her, made an unbearable feeling surge inside her, and she realised she was close to her release.
For a split second it was so good that its intensity scared her.
-Yes- Tyrion urged her breathlessly -Yes.-
She clung to him and pulled him into a deep kiss, finally letting the feeling get hold of her. She moaned inside her kiss, while the stabs of pleasure crept through her body, shaking her, making her shudder and tremble.
When it was over, still every of his thrusts sent delightful little spasms through her.

She looked into his mismatched eyes, and caressed his face, his cheek, his scar, wiped the sweat off his temple.
He was so good, so handsome, so generous, even in his lovemaking.
He's mine, she thought. I could hurt him, but I can also make him happy.
And she realised she wanted nothing more than making him happy.
-I love you, Tyrion.- she said.
He just looked at her for a moment; then his eyes tightened in a pained expression, his movements became irregular and erratic, and she realised that he had reached the peak of his pleasure and he was spending himself inside her.

When it was finished, he let himself fall over her, exhausted.
She listened to the sound of his breath, and stroked his sweaty hair on the back of his head.
Even now, it was good to feel him inside her.

After a while, he lifted himself on his elbows and looked at her in the eyes.
-Hi.- he grinned.
-Hi you.-.
They both giggled, then kissed on the lips.
There was so much to say, but they had all the time to do it. For now, it was enough to savour the moment.

They rolled over, and Sansa rested her head on his chest.
His skin was sweaty, but even his sweat smelled good, clean and finally familiar.
-How do you feel?- he asked her.
She smiled:-I've never felt better. And you?-
Tyrion started to stroke her hair:-I feel like I'm in a dream.- he said -I still can't believe I've managed to bed my wife.-
She pulled a face.
He laughed and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose:-I'm only jesting, my lady.-

She leaned against him again:-As a matter of fact, I dreamed about you for quite a while.-
-About me?-. He still sounded baffled.
-Don't act so surprised every time I tell you!-
-No, it's just... why didn't you simply tell me?-
Sansa shrugged:-I was told that men like to feel like hunters. Aren't you supposed to be a lion? Don't lion hunt in the forest... or wherever they live?-
Tyrion chuckled again and kissed her on the brow:-Lions don't hunt, my love. They lie in the sun while the lioness make all the hard work.-
She sighed:-This explains a great deal.- she caressed his shoulder:-Have you ever dreamt about me? As in...waking dreams?-
-Er...yes, sometimes.-
-What did you dream?- she asked.
He sounded almost shy:-After you rubbed my back in the bath tub, I dreamt that you took your wet tunic off, and made love to me...atop me.-

She never thought that it was possible to make love staying on top of a man, but the notion was interesting.
-In how many position is it possible to...er, join?-
Tyrion laughed:-Oh, I don't know... there are hundreds of possible variations.-
-Will you tell me some?-
-I think I'd rather show you.-

He kissed her again, long and deep, and she realised that he was hard again.
-Now, about those things that you wanted to do to me...- he teased her playfully -will you tell me what they were?-
She blushed:-No.-
-But I'd really love to know.- he insisted.
She shifted position, placing herself between his legs, and placed a kiss on his belly.

-I think I'd rather show you.-

THE END