First of all, I am so sorry for the delay, I flog myself for it

But I have so much to do in the moment and to crown it all my net book broke, I nearly couldn't save my stories, than I had to buy a replacement and work with Win 8 (I hate it)

I must thank all of you who stick with the story, review and follow it, favourite it

I promise the next chapter won't take so long

It seems I lost my beta-reader so sorry for the mistakes

I own nothing (sadly)

Sansa carefully climbed up the stairs to the top of the outside wall of the Red Keep, stabilizing herself with one hand, at the wall on her right side, in fear she would slip on the trodden steps. She had let Brienne with Tommen and Margaery, so there was nobody to aid her, even her other guards waited at the base of the stairs, ordered to stay where they were. Her other hand laid on her belly, a habit she developed over the last month, a gesture of protection for her child, even if there wasn't much to see yet.

The last months had been hard, full of deprivation, the last siege of the keep had only lasted a single day, not two month and they had tugged at her nerves. First she had been distraught, fearing to lose all what had come to her, without Tyrion she hadn't survive this time.

Come to know that she was pregnancy had been the best news she could have received at this faithful evening, when the siege started, but the knowledge had come with a price. She feared for her child, more than she ever had feared for herself. The possibility it could die because of the siege had tormented her ever since. Tyrion had assured her everything would be fine, eventually, had held her in her moments of doubt and it helped. Still, at the thought of a danger for her baby, her stomach knotted and goosebumps together with cold sweet rose on her spine.

She had tried to distract herself, pretending nothing would be out there; Margery had aided her with that course, helping her hosting feasts, sowing with her. Sansa and she also had spent much time in the Godswood, together with Tommen and Margery's cousins, even Tyrion sometimes had joined them too.

After the announcement of her pregnancy they, especially her uncle, even had tried to shield her of everything outside. Futile to say it hadn't worked.

The excessive feast had stopped after Sansa and Margery had spotted a nearly starved group of children, of the servants, in one corner of the yard. She hadn't known that the food had been so much rationed for the commoners, because she and Margery found it wrong, that they would have to hunger and they ate like nothing would happen. They had achieved that the excessive feasts stopped and that the commoners would get more to eat.

The dowager Queen however objected, of course, she always objected. Cersei hadn't been a great help at all during the siege, a hurtful meant commentary about her being pregnant with a dwarf's child was all she had said to her, except her constant nagging about the current rule. Since Tyrion and she were trying their best to keep Tommen from her influence Cersei had retreated to her room, only accompanied by a maid and sometimes an old crone. The wise woman, Sansa had sent for when Margery had needed help, had been in the keep when the Faith had surrounded it and had been trapped with them. After her second meeting with Cersei the old Queen had spent a suspiciously long time in her chambers, not letting herself see in the castle. If Sansa would have had time or energy to worry about her she would have investigated, but not this time.

Now Cersei was in the same room she had spent the last attack on the castle, most likely already drunk and making everybody uncomfortable. Sansa had luckily been able to escape, poor Margaery hadn't had such luck, as Queen she was stuck to stay at Tommen's side and he was with his mother. On the other hand Sansa was glad somebody was watching over Tommen, furthermore Margaery wasn't alone, she had her brother, and her cousins with her.

Finally reaching the top of the wall Sansa beheld a small group of men watching the city. Tyrion stood in the gap between two battlements; Sansa had to smirk about the scene. He wore a pompous red golden armour, looking like a knight or even a King ready for a great battle but wasn't able to look over the battlements.

He looked good, since his shoulder had healed and he, to Sansa's relief, stopped drinking the milk of the poppy, he was back to his old form again. He might deny that the drug had influenced his judgement but then, sometimes he read his old directives from during the time of his healing process and asked her if he really had written such. To her further ease he also had given up his futile search for a possible murder of his father, admitting to her that it was just an obsession.

Besides him stood her uncle and Prince Martel, Pod leaned at one of the battlements, peeking in the city.

Her uncle wore his pate armour, holding his sheathed sword, he looked grim and vigilantly over the square in front of the wall. Sansa suspected he wasn't really satisfied with the situation, most likely Tyrion favoured Bronn over him by choosing a leader for the sally. The Blackfish had led the men of the keep during the entire siege; his experience had made him the most suitable for the task and now he was condemned to let Bronn, who wasn't really his friend, led the final attack. Sansa hoped his pride would survive it. Most likely, she thought, he wasn't as easy offended than other knights.

Martell's appearance looked the complete opposite of her uncle. He wore a bright orange armour with a west, mailed with pear pikes over it. His demeanour gave the impression he would attend a play or a tournament, not a battle.

She approached the men, Pod was the first to spot her, inhaling sharply by her sight, he franticly tapped Tyrion on his shoulder to get his attention.

"What is it?" Tyrion now turned around, his eyes widened at her sight. Sansa stepped between Martell and her uncle, catching their attention. Visibly dumbfounding them.

"Sansa?" Tyrion was the first who caught his voice back, sounding totally taken aback. "What are you doing here?" Sansa wanted to walk pass him before answering, peaking over the walls, but hadn't a chance to see much, when a large hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her back, letting her exhale a gasp.

"Careful, child!" It was her uncle, sounding more worried than she had expected. "The lowlifes won't hesitate to aim at you when they get a chance. This isn't a battle of chivalry; they don't care if they hit a man or a woman." He guided her far back from the wall, still holding her. He positioned himself before her and looked in her eyes, she saw a little flash of panic, his entire exterior was tense, Tyrion was already at his side, looking similar.

A strung of guilt hit her; she never expected her little trip would worry them so much, or cause any trouble. She slowly patted Brynden Tully's arm, showing him she understood and he released her after a moment. Finding her composer, she straightened up and gave the men an assuring smile.

"Sansa what are you doing here, wouldn't it be better when you are with the other women in the keep?" Tyrion was now holding her arm, for a brief moment he looked at her belly and then turned to the wall before returning to her.

"I want to know what happened, not waiting for a messenger." She explained herself to them "I didn't expect this would be a problem." Tyrion wanted to say something but she held up her arm and continued in a half serious half playful tone to Tyrion: "By the way I already had my time in the keep with the other women, witnessing your sister getting drunk and making everybody uncomfortable. I think one time is enough." Sansa looked over her shoulder to the massive structure that was Maegor's Holdfast. "Bad enough poor Margaery must endure this today."

"It is too dangerous here for you." Her uncle insisted sternly. "You can't just..."

"I am not a child!" She interrupted him harsher than she wanted to, the last months her mood easily swung from one extreme to another. Most of the time she could control it, if it hadn't be extreme anxiety. She inhaled deeply before continuing slowly. "I am not a child, neither am I helpless. I stay."

"If you wish, but I would prefer if you would listen what Lord Brynden says." Tyrion tried to convince her but his tone gave away he already accepted her decision to stay and watch.

"Fine, but stay behind the battlement." He Uncle grunted, clearly even unhappier than before. "Boy! Make sure she stays out of sight" Pod startled up and came towards her, but Tyrion was faster, taking her hand she let him guide her to the edge of the wall.

"You uncle isn't happy." He whispered the obvious, gesturing with his head in his direction.

"But somebody has to watch out for you, so you won't lose more body parts." She teased him with a smile.

"Are you concerned about a special part?" He asked mischievous, making her chuckle.

"Don't flatter yourself. On the other hand I would hate to lose your right ear, I like it." Sansa traced her delicate fingers over his right ear. Tyrion looked dumbfounded by her grin, but if he had to reply something the laughter of Oberyn Martell drowned it easily.

The dornish seemed to find the scene entirely amusing before leaning at the battlement Tyrion guided her to.

"Don't worry my Lady, they are terrible shooters." Martell grinned at them before leaning demonstrative over the wall to watch the city.


Sansa couldn't understand what all the fuss was about, or why they even stood on the wall. She couldn't spot anything, Lord Bronn's sally was quick, and when the blood had been spilled she had looked away, not wanting to see it. She was more interested in the rest of the events. But for her eyes there was nothing. Tyrion tried to explain her why he had occasionally cheered, pointing at a small figure waving a flag on the outside walls of the city. For her part they could have stayed in the castle as well.

And when the screams had started to raise Sansa had wished she had stayed in the castle, enduring Cersei's drunken drama. But luckily they had ceased as fast as they had come.

She was now searching for something she could identify as a sign of battle when Tyrion besides her called out, waving his hand. Following his gaze she saw him.


A rider on a white horse, wearing a white armour headed for the gate, waving his sword. He was accompanied by at least fifty men in red and in red and blue. Ser Jaime lifted his helmed gesturing towards them.

"About time!" Tyrion cried down, a grin developing on his face. "You are late brother, where were you? Fighting a tournament?"

"I have a reputation to protect brother!" Ser Jaime grinned back. "Open the gate, the city is safe and I have a very annoying Lady of your wife in a carriage in front of the gates eager to be reunited with her." Sansa's stomach jumped by the mention of Jeyne. Jaime Lannister wiped his forehead and continued. "Do you know how annoying it is to be asked 'When will you take the city?' five times a day, every day?"

"You see, I am not the only one who thinks you are slow." Tyrion gazed at Sansa, looking like he would burst into laughter before turning to Pod who looked suddenly very tense. "Open the gates and then make sure the carriage and the rest of our delayed group arrive in the keep as soon as possible." Nodding sharp Pod hasted to the near gatehouse, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Sansa thought he most likely was nervous to see Jeyne again, thinking of the at most occasions awkward couple before she felt a tug at her sleeve. Turning to Tyrion she saw him looking up at her expectantly.

"We won." He said at her quizzical gaze. He gave her a certain look and then she understood.

"My hero." She whispered grinning to him when she lowered herself down on his level for a kiss. "My brave hero, who stood at the wall, doing nothing."

"I was supervising." He defended himself against her playful teasing, being overly dramatic.

"Of course you were." She whispered again before continuing the kiss.

The throat-clearing of her uncle let Sansa looking up; he was clearly uncomfortable now, glancing away. Martell on the other side was proving himself a voyeur, starring grinning at them.

Tyrion quickly took her hand and guided her to the stairs, telling the stay-behinds to take care of the rest.

Reaching the base of the stairs they witnessed how Ser Jaime rode into the yard. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard dismounted his horse and walked straight up to them, throwing his helmet nonchalant to a stunned squire.

"My Lady, beautiful as always." Jaime slightly bowed to her, a big smile on his face before turning to Tyrion. "One year and I am even more convinced you married way out of your league brother."

"Tell me something I don't know." taking her hand Tyrion looked grinning p to him. Ser Jaime looked well, the last time she saw him he had been weakened by the long journey to King's Landing, but now he looked more like the Jaime Lannister she had first met in Winterfell, except for his beard and the golden hand.

"Nice hand." Tyrion remarked smirking. "You must tell me where you get your nails done."

"I introduce you to the smith, maybe you are lucky and he has noses on sale." Ser Jaime replied, now walking to a bench near them and dropped down, exhaling loud. "Long day."

"But the city is safe?" Sansa asked cautiously, not wanting to offend him if the city wasn't fully secured.

"There are still some little nests but we will get to them soon enough, the main street and the surrounding areas are secured, the rest will be by nightfall. I saw Lucion on his way out." Ser Jaime leaned back looking exhausted. "How is Cersei? And Tommen?"

"Well, they will be happy to see you" Sansa answered him, glancing back at the Holdfast.

"I doubt Cersei wants to see me." he sounded resigning. "However I will go to them as soon as possible."

"Any other news from the world outside? We are low on ravens in the moment, must be the environment." Tyrion asked him.

"They shoot your ravens; my men found them outside the walls, or better most of them. I didn't received my, but Edmure Tully did, I get the news from him."

"Is my uncle with you?" Sansa asked hoping for some news of her family.

"I am sorry my Lady but no. It seems he broke his leg some time ago and it's not safe for him to ride." Ser Jaime gave her an apologizing look before turning to her husband again, grabbing under his armour. "I accepted all ravens for you." He handed Tyrion a large bundle of letters. Her Husband turned it in his hands before placing it on the bench.

"If you didn't get a letter, you don't know the good news right?" Tyrion asked, stepping closer to his brother.

"What good news?" He looked at Tyrion and than at her. Sansa felt warmth in her belly, anticipation to telling him the good news. She liked that the most and Tyrion looked at her expecting.

"Won't you tell?"

"Why not you?" She was the one making the announcement at her Nameday, so she thought it would be fair he could tell this time.

"My Lady I insist." He gestured with his hands to Ser Jaime, who looked more confuse with every moment.

"If you wish." Sansa tried to contain a too big smile, straighten up, inhaling. "I am with child."

Jaime's mouth dropped open, and he just starred at her for a brief moment before jumping up, causing her to back up slightly.

Laughing he stepped towards her, arms wide open. "This is wonderful." He exhaled when he swung his arms around her and lifted her in a firm hug from the ground for a moment. His dirty armour ruining her gown.

"Congratulations. Both of you." He marched to his brother but Tyrion held up his arms.

"Don't dare to lift me!"

"Than not." He stood between her and Tyrion, gazing back and forth, smiling brightly. "So another Lannister then."

His congratulations continued for a while until he excused himself, wanting to see for the King and his twin. Sansa was relieved he had taken it so well, but now she had to face the possibility that nobody outside of the keep knew from her condition. Something that could be caught up with of course but the reaction of her mother still frightened her, knotting her stomach. She had hoped her mother already received the news and had time to think about it. She just wanted to speak to Tyrion when a large carriage rolled through the gatehouse.

Jeyne was back, and Pod was already there to see her, in an appropriate distance of course. Even if Sansa thought half the yard between them was a bit too much.

"Pod. Pod." She called for him, carefully not to yell. When the squire looked to her she gestured him with her hands to go to the carriage. First he hesitated, but after she held out her arm and pointed at the carriage with a stern gaze, he started to move.

"And here we go." Sansa heard Tyrion's voice from behind, turning she found him sitting on the bench, scanning over the wax sigils on the letters. She sat beside him, observing the carriage stopping in the centre of the yard and Pod slowly advancing it.

"It's no dragon. If he knows that?" Tyrion laid the letters beside and followed her example to watch the scene.

Sansa found his behaviour rather sweet; he was nervous, nothing more. The door of the carriage opened and Jeyne stepped outside, her heir waving in the wind. Bewaring Pod, her eyes were immediately fixed to her feet, as were Pod's.

"How fascinating they shoes must be." Tyrion was clearly too amused by the scene, so Sansa gave him a pointed look.

"Let them, they will surprise you."

Despite they eyes fixed at their shoes they somehow managed to move in front of each other. Even from afar Sansa could see how they blushed. After some quiet moments Pod cautiously lifted his hand, offering it to Jeyne. The hand stayed in the air for some time, before Jeyne lifted hers. When they touched, both smiled, even if they separated a moment later.

"Somebody should tell him that that is the right time to kiss her." Tyrion commented at her side, verbalizing her thoughts

"I thought you were his mentor?" She asked him, grinning at him.

"You are right." He exhaled, grinning he formed a bell with his hands in front of his mouth. "Kiss her!" He shouted over the yard so everybody could hear it. Both, Jeyne and Pod, looked up startled, blushing crimson red before stepping away from each other.

"Now you scared them of." Sansa accused him, but couldn't forbear to be amused by the scene herself. "Couldn't you have been more discrete?"

"I can't do anything I ..." His word broke up when he gazed behind her. Turning her head Sansa saw how Lord Bronn and some of his men arrived from a side gate, walking under the wall to the Holdfast.

"Excuse me my dear..." All too sudden Tyrion jumped up and walked away to them.

Driven by curiosity and his sudden departure Sansa followed him, taking the letters with her.

He and Bronn met beside in one corner of the yard, Sansa arrived unnoticed short afterwards. It gave her the opportunity to see the hooded man in his undergarments before they could hide him. She immediately asked herself why the obvious prisoner wasn't brought through the main gate. His body was more red and purple than white from bruises. He was carried by two of Lord Bronn's men who pressed him onto his knees in front of her husband.

"My Lady." One of the sellswords noticed her, bowing slightly, followed by the rest. But Sansa had only eyes for the scene in front of her, the man on his knees and Tyrion smiling gruesome.

She didn't like what she saw; Tyrion shouldn't be so excited by such a poor creature. He quickly turned; her sight washed the smile out of his face, a caught expression remaining. She knew then something was up. Something bad.


"Who is this?" She asked, not letting him finish, her entire body tense, demanding an explanation for his behaviour.

"He.., he is just." Tyrion was clearly uncomfortable, coiling like a snake.

"Lift the hood." Sansa ordered the men sternly. They hesitated, hands akimbo hips she glared at them, tapping her foot on the ground. "Now!"

She turned he head to the surprisingly quiet Bronn who stood aside, clearly unwilling to be involved. Finally the hood was lifted and revealed a man with a gravely injured face.

"Who is this." the sellswords were quiet, they looked over challenged with the situation, they were yelled at by a fourteen years old girl, normally nobody would accept this quietly, but the defeated state of Tyrion, who looked very ashamed seemed to be enough for them to know not to buck.

"The High Septon, my Lady." One of them muttered under his breath, eyes on the ground.

"And why is he brought in the keep through a side gate? Why were there no news of his capture? She only addressed Tyrion now, yelling angry, her husband was in pressure to explain, but said nothing and slowly it dawned Sansa why there was no news of his capture.

"Bring him to my uncle." She ordered Bronn harsh, the former sellsword looked at Tyrion, asking for permission but when he received nothing from the Regent, who still had no words other than stammering, he just followed her command, smirking at her before leaving, letting her alone with her husband.

"I can explain it." Tyrion was sweating, holding up his arms.

"Oh no, let me." Sansa was angry, it was her first tantrum in his presence but she didn't care. "You let him bring her, without telling anyone, so you have something planning for him. Something you don't want anyone to know."

"I didn't plan anything." He defended himself looking helpless up to her.

"Don't try to fool me, I know you better, or at least I thought so. You wanted to torture him, right? Why?" She yelled at him, she never thought she would. Sansa knew of course that he did it before; Petyr Baelish's time in the black cells was known to her. This however was something different, there was no use to it, only, what she thought was revenge. And so she lost all her composer. "Who are you? Joffrey?"

"Sansa please." He begged her, trying to catch her hand but she backed up. "You can't worry so much. Think of the child."

"I worry as much as I want! Don't act like that, if you want me to be calm!" Sansa balled her fists, before turning away from him. "I thought you would never do that only because you want it."

"It's not like that. I just, I just..." He reached out for her again, but without success. "I am sorry."

Sansa turned back to glare at him. "Don't you dare to do so again!"

She turned away, wanting to leave but stopped one more time. "My Lord forgot the letters." she threw them to his feet and walked away. She couldn't think straight, her anger boiled too much in her.


The meeting of the Small Council to discuss the matters that occurred over the last month and how it would proceed now was scheduled three days after the city had been freed by Ser Jaime's men. The inhabitants of the keep had been relieved when it had been finally over and the celebrations had only been started, there would be a tournament in four days. But first it was time to bring order in the Kingdoms. The missed letters had thrown them back too much, again.

Sansa sat at her usual seat, between Tommen and Tyrion, at the large table of the Small Council.

Her anger for Tyrion had boiled down over the last days and he had tried everything to be in her good grace again. But Sansa still was angry with him, hurt too. She had been cold to him ever since. He hadn't been supposed to have a dark side in her view; he had been her Tyrion, her witty, good hearted Tyrion. This was her actual problem with the situation, Margaery had pointed out what the High Septon had done to her and Sansa agreed with her that he wasn't innocent at all. But still, Tyrion shouldn't have done it, she wasn't sure any more if she could trust him the way she had done again.

But she hoped so, and concerning this dark part of him, she would watch out for it in the future, after all she could see that he was ashamed for what he did even if it didn't influence her yet.

It hadn't helped the High Septon, he had been executed yesterday, and the Most Devout would elect a new one today, so there could be one for tomorrow's ceremony.

Gazing over the table she beheld Ser Jaime, he looked so bored about the meeting that he could fall asleep any moment, so was Tommen. In matters of council meetings the King and his uncle were very much alike she thought with a slight chuckle. Both most likely wanted to do something else. Sansa gestured discrete to Margaery to wake her husband, who was asleep, before anybody notices.

Looking around again, Sansa's eyes found Maellius, the Master of Whisperers changed his behaviour towards Tyrion lately and she suspected he was afraid of him now. Sansa didn't like it, Had Tyrion done something to him that he was so afraid? She really hoped not.

Turning her attention back to the discussion she noticed that Grand Maester Perestan was nagging again. He had felt deeply insulted that he hadn't been asked before Zuquid had been sent away.

"It was foolish to trust this foreigner, before consulting me?" He was in one of his tirades. "He could have been a fraud. Not to mention that the wisdom of the Maesters is ..."

"We know this, but it worked, didn't it?"Garlan stopped him, visible annoyed. "Lord Stark beat Stannis and the Wildlings; furthermore he struck back another attack from beyond the Wall."

"Grumpkins and Snarks, right?" Maellius found the idea of an attack from the Others clearly amusing, even Sansa had sometimes her doubts; maybe it was just another Wildling attack, misinterpreted by the exhausted men.

"Whatever it was, we have to deal with the outcome now." Brynden Tully threw into the round, looking expecting in hers and Tyrion's direction. "Especially concerning Stannis's family."

"After evaluating all we know" Tyrion straightened up in his chair we came to the decision it would be the best not to hold his wife or daughter responsible for his treason. Furthermore we decided to grant Lady Shireen Storm's End. Lord Davos Seaworth will be her Lord-Protector until she comes of age. Any suggestions, propositions?"

Sansa was glad it played out so well, the poor girl shouldn't suffer, it also was her idea to give her Storm's End rather than Dragonstone.

"Lord Seaworth?" Lord Swyft asked puzzled. "Isn't he just the Onion Knight?"

"Stannis made him Lord of the Rainforest and we decided to legitimise this deed." Sansa cleared the situation for the Master of Coins.

"That's all well and good, but what will happen to the Florents and their claim to Brightwater Keep?" Martell asked, grinning towards Garlan. "Will their claim be restored by the crone as well?"

Brightwater Keep had been given to Garlan, even if the Florents still hold the castle and Sansa knew that Oberyn Martell knew this.

"Lord Tyrell is the Lord of Brightwater Keep, and the Florents will accept it, they must." Margaery stated clearly. Sansa saw how Tyrion slightly grimaced, he wanted to give the castle back to the Florents but knew he couldn't, Garlan was Hand of the King and somebody had to be punished for Stannis's usurpation, even if anybody else had been pardoned.

"Dragonstone will go to the heir of King Tommen." Garlan started a new topic, gesturing to Tommen. "As soon as he is born."

"They should begin soon." Martell's words were low but still clearly to hear, he liked it to provoke.

"More objection, suggestions?" Tyrion asked in the round but everybody kept silent. "Useful as always" He muttered grinning before leaning back.

Sansa was relieved nobody objected, but on the other hand what could they have said? Demanding Shireen Baratheon's death, this wouldn't happen.

"Lord Stark will be informed about our decisions." Tyrion closed the subject and started to speak when Perestan interrupted.

"What is with the North?"

"I trust Lord Stark will be able to bring order in his own lands." Tyrion pressed out, fixating Perestan.

"And the Wildlings? Boltons?"

"My brother will do what is best." Sansa tried to shut him down. Robb was Lord of Winterfell now, he would deal with it.

"I think we should continue." Tyrion stated, giving Perestan a pointed look. "The Ironborn"

"Ah, shall we discuss the massacre that the so glorious heir of Highgarden ordered on the Shield Islands?" Oberyn Martell asked rude towards Margaery and Garlan, leaning over the table. Margaery wanted to open her mouth but Tyrion was faster.

"Whatever Lord Willas did, was in his rights. The Ironborn were pirates and they received a pirate's punishment." Sansa thought he didn't sound very convincing at all. She herself had been shocked when she had heard what happened, the events had been overly cruel and wouldn't the still fragile state of the seven Kingdoms demand it; there would be much harder words for Willas Tyrell's actions. But he was the brother-in-law of the King and apparently this was enough to let it pass. She didn't like it, but it was necessary.

She wasn't the only one on the table thinking so, she knew Tyrion wasn't happy about it and she could observe the Blackfish's tight pressed lips. Even Margaery had been upset about her brother, she had explained Sansa that Willas was sometimes too hard, he might be gentle and kind but also a, she had called it 'overly lawful', judge.

"And what will happen with the Iron Islands now?" The red Viper of Dorne continued, with not a bit more civil tone. "All their Lords are dead, who shall rule them? Or does the Regent intend to distribute the Islands to the winner?" He smiled at the King's side of the table, letting his accusation floating in the room.

"Not all Lords are dead my Lord." Brynden Tully leaned back in his chair, eyeing the dornish with a hard gaze. "Some of them supported us and not all of the other were at the Shields, neither were their childless."

"So they will rule like nothing happened?" No matter what, Martell seemed to gain pleasure out of his criticism.

"Of course not." Margaery spoke in her calming voice. "They will pay, the people they captured as slaves will be returned to their homes, they will pay for the damage they caused and" she turned to Sansa and Tyrion. "As far as I understood House Greyjoy will cease to exist."

"Something like that." Tyrion straighten up. "The title of paramour will go to House Harlow, Lord Rodrik Harlow, called the reader, - a man who seems to be sympathetic by the way -" Tyrion added with a grin, receiving a chuckle from Sansa and even Jaime seems have heard it, exhaling a grunt. "He supported our troops under the premise that we accept his niece as his heir. Ser Daven agreed. I am willing to approve this deal if there are no objections." He opened his arm to the round.

"This girl, who is she?" Swyft asked, clearly bewildered.

"Asha Greyjoy, Balon's daughter." Maellius informed him, smiling patronizingly over his ignorance.

"So in the end the Greyjoys will continue to rule?" Martell again, Sansa started to tip her fingers on the table, this man's constant objections annoyed her more and more, she was tense, and to crown it all, hungry again.

"Is it wise to allow the girl inheriting the Iron Islands? After all she was and still is, an enemy captain and led the attack on the North." Maellius turned to Sansa, as if he would expect support.

"She and her men aided our men at the Wall, we should acknowledge that." Brynden Tully explained. "Pyke will be torn down; we should let the Ironborn at least have that. After all people will rather follow blood than a Lord we set in front of their noses."

"It also seems she understands the challenges her people have to face in the future; she knows that they depend on us." Tyrion sealed the discussion; none of the comments had been helpful, again. "Also, there will still be soldiers only a day's journey away from the islands. Lord Myatt will make sure there won't be problems."

"Are we done?" Tommen asked towards Margaery and Sansa, his eyes wide open and hopeful.

"Are we?" Sansa asked in the round.

"Maybe one thing of interest." The Master of Whisperers let himself hear. "I received information of a suspicious amount of deaths in the Free Cities."

"A plague?" Swyft asked fearful. "Something that could spread."

"Only if this plague only targets rich, influential persons."

"Then hope it's not a plague." Tyrion commented

"Magister, functionary and other rich persons of interest died, nobody knows how or why."

"I don't think it concerns us." Tyrion said, rising from is chair and left. "Or are we associated with them?" Maellius shook his head.

And so the meeting was over.


Sansa had never expected to see this. She was standing besides Tyrion next to the throne. Tommen sat in this monstrosity of sharp blades, head up, wearing the finest clothing imaginable. He looked like the King he was. Margaery, Garlan and, to Sansa's personal misfortune, Cersei were standing next to him too. Cersei had had to make more comments; one more hurtful than the other since she entered the room, only the starting ceremony stopped her from more. Sansa had slowly developed the urge to shut her up, but keep quiet, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of losing her composer.

She glanced over the heads of the Kingsguard, in front of them and witnessed how the new High Septon, the former Septon Raynard entered the throne room on his knees. Margaery got what she wanted, the Faith on its knees, giving itself up to the King. Total surrender. Sansa could see how she smiled.

While the High Septon in a hair-shirt crawled to the edge of the steps to the throne, Sansa let her gaze wander.

The entire court was present, her uncle looked undecipherable, Maellius besides him by contrary looked very amused about the scene.

She spotted Lucion quiet in a corner, the knight had been hit hard by the death of his father, he had gone inside himself, and failed to return yet.

Sansa looked down at her husband at her side, and thought she spotted a slightly grin over the sight in his face. She didn't like it; her memories of the old High Septon and what he had planned with him were to fresh in her mind. She had continued to be cold to him, punishing him with silence. But now she thought maybe it was time to find a solution.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the entering of more men, led by Lancel Lannister. He was the knight who had been chosen to deliver the surrender of the Faith Militia; he carried a flag showing a seven pointed star and a sword. A lesson for him Tyrion had said. Sansa on the other hand thought that the knight would receive land and a wife afterwards, not a good lesson, but she was happy for Lancel's mother who got the chance of grandchildren sooner than she expected.

In the meantime the High Septon reached the steps, keeping his head down he offered his newly made crown to the King, speaking the words which had been placed in his mouth.

He surrendered the Faith to the King's mercy and pleaded for clemency, giving the secular power over the Faith to the King. Sansa found this was too harsh, but Margaery and Cersei insisted on it, it was the first time and most likely the last they concurred.

Lancel was next, throwing the flag and sword in front of the throne, and kneeling down, waiting for Tommen to act.

He had been good instructed; he jumped out of the throne, much more careful that it looked like and waddled to them, helping them up symbolically. The court applauded


Sansa walked ahead of Tyrion in their chambers, heading for the bedroom when he spoke, his voice low.

"I think we need to talk." Turning on her heels she faced him, he stood near the door, eyes on her. He looked like a beaten puppy, a puppy with a huge scar, but a puppy like he searched for something in her expression. It created a pang in Sansa's heart to see him like this. She nodded and sat down in a chair near a window, gesturing Pod, Jeyne and Viola who stood in the door frame to leave.

He stepped nearer to her, his hands in a pleading gesture in front of him.

"I am sorry Sansa." He apologized, pleading eyes on her. "Please don't be mad at me."

"I am not mad." She confessed, Sansa turned her head to look out of the window, sorrow in her tone. "I was, but only briefly. I am not mad or angry any more. It is just..." She searched for the right words, trying to ignore her bad feeling about all this. Sighting she continued. "I am disappointed." Finally looking at him, she regretted her words immediately, Tyrion looked like she had hit him, but she had to finish. "Maybe it is my fault. I knew you weren't the knight in the shiny armour, I knew it from the beginning. You have a not so pleasant side in you, but I was blind to it."

"Sansa..." He started.

"Let me finish." She held up her hand. "I know you are capable of gruesome things. But I always thought you would do them just if necessary, not out of lower motives, like revenge or that you would gain lust out of it. I thought you were better than that. Better than the rest." Sansa's voice was deeply sad, trembling and she had a hard time to avoid tears.

"Sansa I am..." But Tyrion hadn't any more words before looking ashamed at his feet.

"I know you tortured Baelish and what else you did." She sounded like she wanted somehow justify her words. "But it is different to know and to see."

"I am not all bad" Now it was Tyrion who justify himself, he still stood in the middle of the room, collapsed into himself. By his words a small smile appeared in Sansa's face and a laughter escape her.

"Oh, I know that." She eyed him, speaking clearer now. "I know you can be kind, gentle and decant even to those without any use for you. I remember that you were the only one who condoled to me about my father's death. I remember you stopping Joffrey from beating me and I remember you agreeing to marry the freighted hostage to beware her from a certain death. And even then you didn't take advantage of her."

"Oh, it was not only altruistic, believe me." He wanted to grin but it faded when he saw her sad face.

"I think I just idealised you over all this, not wanting to see the rest of you, the dark side. I was blind. You were supposed to be better, you should be better." Tyrion turned away with watering eyes, balling his fists.

"You want to go then?" He pressed out, avoiding her gaze. Sansa was dumbfounded over his words for a moment.

"Sometimes you can be really stupid, you know that?" He turned to her as quick as a predator, closing the distance between them in large steps and stopped before her.

"You don't?" He stuttered, eyes on her. He sounded so vulnerable, Sansa bend down to be face to face with him.

"I love you" She said, strong and clear. "This won't change over something like this. I love al your good pars, not to mention your wit and so much more..." She kissed him, brushed her lips against his. "I will have to live with the knowledge of your dark side and you will have to control it." She laid her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "I won't allow you acting like this, understand?" He cupped her cheek with his hand. The warm feeling of his touch let Sansa briefly forget the world around her.

"Everything you want." he promised, smiling relieved, a tear rolling in his scar.

"I will see to it." Now she smiled too. It had been good to talk, it felt better now. She was relieved and the knot in her stomach as much as the coldness to him slowly disappeared, floating out of her.

Tyrion climbed on the chair next to her, grabbing her hand. He traced the bones of her long elegant fingers, caressing them before kissing the hand.

"Can I ask you something?" He looked to her.

"Since when do you have to ask such a question?" She gave back, smiling at him.

"It's about our child." Sansa guided one of her hands to her belly, suddenly fearing an unpleasant revelation.

"What's about it?" She asked nervous.

"Nothing bad." He assured her quickly. "I was just wondering if you want your mother with you when the time comes."

"Oh..." The topic of her mother and her baby wasn't something she liked to approach, even if Tyrion meant well. She still feared her mother wouldn't accept her child, was it his after all. She hadn't been blind; she knew Lady Catelyn despised Tyrion, even if she hid it. What would she say about a child, or more than one? She never talked about this with anybody except Tyrion and he had waved her fears away, but she wasn't so sure about it. She feared the rejection or the disdain of her mother towards her baby. "Maybe this isn't so wise. I think my mother must attend to Bran and Rickon first."

"Nonsense." Tyrion exhaled "Perestan said the child isn't due in five and a half month. In this time your mother can travel two times to the North. If this really should be a problem she can just bring them with her. Don't you want her here when it's time?" He had no idea how much she wanted that, how much she feared the birth, so many women died in childbirth, Sansa was afraid, Sansa wanted her mother there but not with disdain in her eyes.

"I am not sure this would be good. And I have you." She said, tracing his left ear with her fingers.

"I am not sure how good I would do."

"Just let it go." With these words Sansa rose from her chair and went to the bedroom, for her this topic was over.


The days passed and the tournament to celebrate the victory and in extend the end of the `War of the six KingsĀ“, Tommen had been count in, began. It was a cheerful event; the people of King's Landing were feasted on expenses of the crown, and were now filling the field of tournament.

Sansa sat on the platform of the royal family watching the joist with Tommen and Margaery, Jeyne and Pod sat together on the tribune, holding hands again. Cersei wouldn't attend today and Sansa was thankful for that. Tyrion was missing or better late, she had no idea where he was, it didn't worry her too much but still there was a not so good feeling in her stomach about it.

Their relationship tuned to the better again, even if there was still this spark of disappointment in her about his actions. But she had decided not to dwell on his bad sides, but to remember why she loved him.

The next pass was between a Ser Roland de Verrec, a good looking knight with a thornless white rose on his shield, and Ser Pate of Stoney Sept. The knight with the white rose approached the platform and bowed to King and Queen before addressing her.

"My Lady, may I beg for a token of your favour? I may ride in your honour." Sansa smiled, she always had imagined something like that when she had been a child, it was a great feeling.

"You know I am married right?" She asked him, causing a deep blush on his face.

"Of course, my Lady, sorry, I didn't want to be intrusive, I just..." he stuttered, crimson red.

"Enough, enough" she laughed about the situation. "I know what you intended, Ser. Give me your lance." Still blushing he lowered his lance letting her knot a handkerchief around the tip. "I expect a winner." She declared. He bowed and left for his place.

Sansa was amused; the young man just wanted a Lady's favour as a talisman, not more, just a tradition in a joist.

The knights made themselves ready for Tommen to give the signal to start but the young King had other in mind first.

"I am the next to compete" He declared to her and Margaery. "And I will fight in Margy's honour."

"As honourable as this might be your Grace, you won't." Sansa said sternly, not looking at Margaery's smile while trying to hide her own.

"What, but I want. Auntie, please" He pleading, leaning to her, nearly begging.

"Not today, not here." Sansa didn't raise her voice but the message was clear.

"Margy" Tommen turned to his wife with pleading eyes, but Margaery just threw her hand up.

"Hear what your aunt said. I am on your side but..." Margaery gazed at her. "I am not as stupid as talking back to her." Tommen crossed his arms over his chest, grimaced his face and gestured with his hand and the trumpets resounded, the knights could begin.

Ser Pate wasn't very lucky this day Verrec threw him out of the saddle in one quick elegant move, it seemed Sansa choose the right knight today. She was curious if he would win, but before that he would have to face Brienne. With the support of Jaime she participated in the joist.

'She will win, that's why she must participate' Jaime had declared yesterday and nobody had spoken against him. She already had beaten her first opponent and Verrec was next after a small pause.

Sansa looked around if Tyrion would finally show up, but she only spotted her uncle and Garlan at the side of the field discussing about the knights to compete. Then she was distracted by Viola bringing a plate with lemon cakes.

"Thank you." She said and took some; she was already hungry again, after a meal not two hours ago. She had started to feel fat and bloated, even if she wasn't, but if she would continue like that she would be able to compete with Genna soon.

"Can I have some?" Tommen at her side asked. "You eat always so much and I am never allowed more than four a day."

"That's because I am pregnant, I am allowed to do so." Smiling she took the plate from Viola and offered to Tommen, who grab greedy two hands full of cakes, sharing them with Margaery.

It was heart-warming and Sansa wanted to say something but then she heard Tyrion placing himself next to hear.

"You are late." She stated, looking in his much to smooth facial expression. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing, why do you think I am." He sounded very pleased with himself, too pleased.

"You know. To have a nose has advantages." She said, leaning to him, tipping with one of her fingers against her nose. "I can smell when you are up to something.

Before he could answer the trumpets signalled for the next round.


Two month later

"Sansa, Sansa!" Tyrion stormed in the bedroom, visibly excited.

"What is it?" She asked, bracing herself on her arms, she just had lied in the bed, resting her eyes.

"We must go to the harbour; a ship with high guests is arriving." He stated, looking at her expecting. What was it? Sansa had no idea what he meant; she had no knowledge about high guests.

"Who is it?" She asked, still a bit sleepy.

"You will see, come on." He waved his hand like a boy, grinning at her.

"Can't Tommen and Margaery or Garlan welcome them?" Sansa wanted just to lie down again, she was tired, and she would have to change before welcoming guests.

"No, they can't, believe me." He said, cryptic. Sighting she swung her legs from the bed, holding her grown belly and reached a hand out for Viola, who had sat in a chair nearby, to help her up.

"If you insist."

Sansa couldn't ride any more, the Grand Maester had forbid it, so they used a palanquin to reach the harbour. Sansa had changed and had woken up, but still wasn't sure what was going on, Tyrion didn't tell her, she was suspicious about it. He planed something, she just didn't know what.

Finally standing on the pier Sansa waited for the ship to appear from behind the Red Keep, it was the only direction a ship could come from.

"Will you tell me who we expect now?" She asked Tyrion annoyed about his silence.

"Just look." He gestured with his hand to the cliff the keep stood on. And really, just n the moment a ship came in sight from behind and Sansa hold her breath when she saw the grey Stark banner on top of the mast.

"You didn't?" She turned to her husband, who stood grinning besides her. "I said I don't wish to..."

"Sometimes..." he interrupted her, taking her hand, to cam her raise temper."Just trust me. Your mother agrees on that by the way. Her reply to my letter two month ago was very clear that she wanted to be here. And your little siblings are with her. As far as I know they are very excited"

Sansa's stomach felt like it would twist. There on that boat was her mother, and most likely Arya, Bran and Rickon. Half a year she didn't see them, Bran and Rickon even longer, more than four years by now. How would they be? She thought she should be angry with Tyrion for doing this behind her back, but somehow she wasn't, too much anticipation, too much happiness streaming through her.

The ship reached the pier, the railing was brought down and then her mother appeared, followed by Arya, a tall boy and Hodor, carrying Bran. Rickon pressed himself past their mother, running towards her, swinging his arms around her. He had grown tall, he laughed madly, jumping up and down, so happy to see her again. Sansa felt the same, there had been times she dared to hope to see them again, she had cried for them, but now they were here. Arya and Bran followed quickly in the group hug, even if Hodor had to hold Bran upright. It took some time until they separated from each other.

And then her mother stood in front of her, looking up and down before pulling her in a firm embrace.

"You look good" She whisperers in her ear. There was no disdain in her eyes, Sansa was happy.


Sansa screamed again, the thick door didn't muffle the screams as good as Jaime had thought it would be. She was in labour and he waited, with the rest, in front of the door, for any news.

It wasn't long since it started, an excited servant had informed him and he had hurried to the birthing chamber, he wanted to see his first nephew or niece.

Tyrion had paced the floor in front of the room, claiming the midwives wouldn't allow him in, neither would Lady Stark. Jaime had been about to kick his ass, or grabbing his collar to throw him in the room when the door had opened and his wife had demanded loudly his presence.

Now he was pacing the room, together with Sansa's siblings, her uncle, her Lady Jeyne, who sat together with Tyrion's squire, Brienne, Tommen and his Queen, not to forget the three enormous wolves the Starks had with them.

Another scream

Cersei didn't accompany them, mostly because of the wolves, she hated hem, especially the one who had attacked Joffrey once, but nobody was willing to come near the beast. She also was afraid of the cripple, fearing recognition. Jaime didn't fear it, he felt bad now for what he did, but nothing more. They were family now and somehow he had started to like it. The youngest Stark especially, the boy was younger than Tommen but looked already more like an adult than the King, and he was wild, like a wolf.

Another scream

He hoped it would be over soon.


He wasn't sure how much time passed when the door swung open and Tyrion stepped outside, in his hand a small bundle. Jaime hadn't noticed that the screams ceased until then. He had leaned against a wall, dozing.

"And?" Brandon Stark asked cautious.

"Meet Gerion Lannister, heir to Casterly Rock." Tyrion proclaimed, raising the child and all in the room stepped nearer to see.

Jaime saw a perfectly well looking baby with a red-golden head of hair. Ohs and Ahs followed with smiles and all the fuss. He wanted to say something but was interrupted.

"Enough starring, the mother demand her child back" A midwife came from the door

Tyrion traced the face of his son with his finger and whispered.

"So come on, you don't want to let your mother wait. She is expecting us back." And Jaime's brother waddled back in the room to his wife. Jaime never had seen him so happy.

In case of the timeline, I was told it would be confusing, all of chapter 35 expect the last part happened around the two month etc...

Verrec is stolen from Bernard Cornwell's book 1356, when I read it he reminded me somehow of old Sansa

I am not ready yet so expect more, not in two month, again sorry

I would maybe throw myself into my sword, but I have none

Please review, it's a long time and I need feedback if I hold the quality