The Viper and The Wolf

Chapter 2

Sansa sniffled, her pillow below her soaked from her tears. She hugged the front of her dress close to her chest as she laid on her stomach as her handmaiden Shae looked over the fresh wounds on her porcelain skin. She flinched instinctively as Shae gently dabbed the medicine soaked cloth against the red whip marks over her back. But despite what had just happened, Sansa couldn't help but smile. As she was forced to her knees before the throne, Joffrey ranted and screamed about nothing else other than Robb's victory over Casterly Rock. He was so close to her she could almost feel his presence. He was going to win and Sansa was sure of it.

Sansa was going to go home.

"You shouldn't walk today," Shae said as she carefully helped Sansa sit up. She watched Shae grab her corset. "You shouldn't allow your clothes to rub against your wounds."

"I don't have any duties here," Sansa said softly. She didn't. She had no real responsibilities in King's Landing. All she did was read, walk amongst the gardens, pray on the terrace and eat alone in her room. She closed her eyes as her corset was placed over the bandages Shae had placed on her back and she began to tighten the laces.

"Let me send for the healer, my lady." Shae walked to stand before Sansa.

"No, I can manage." Sansa answered a little two quickly but in no snappy nature. Sansa knew Pycelle was one of Cersei's spies and she would not give her the pleasure of spying on her. Not to mention the many looks the old man gave her sent a chill down her spine.

Before Shae could protest further, the two were interrupted when a few polite knocks made themselves known. Sansa looked up with fear plummeting into her stomach as she carefully turned around with Shae by her side.

"Lady Sansa?" The familiar voice of Tyrion Lannister could be heard through the door. "May I come in?" Sansa looked to Shae and nodded her head for her to answer. She did, opening to the door to see the small, but noble Lannister. "Lady Sansa." He bowed slightly. "I'm here to escort you to the Tower of the Hand."

Sansa regretted that door opening. She gulped, her hands shaking as she clutched her dress, unable to contain the shaking in her voice. "What does the Lord Hand wish to discuss with me?" She asked, her voice clearly trembling.

"Well, it's about your future, my lady."

Sansa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, clinging to the front of her dress before following Tyrion out of the safety of her chambers. She walked stiff from the fresh pain in her back. Tyrion immediately noticed her lack of pace as she squeezed her eyes shut once every few steps. Tyrion, in a subtle manner, slowed his pace to see if he could see her back. There he could see reddened whip marks embroidered into Sansa's back of the neck that Sansa's hair and Shae had failed to cover properly.

Tyrion paled in anticipation but he made sure that Sansa nor Shae did not see his expression change from calm to very nervous. He was also sure that a certain someone would not like to see his betrothed to be so clearly in pain. He had mentioned Sansa had been under pain and torment, but did not want to bring those things so soon and upfront to the dangerous Red Viper.

Sansa kept her eyes on the ground the whole walk. But she finally looked up when she knew she was near the doors of the tower of the hand and paled to see Cersei was already waiting for them at the door. There was a fake smile on her face, so Sansa forced herself to keep her chin up as she approached the blonde, intimidating woman.

"Little Dove." Cersei greeted Sansa sweetly which Sansa knew was false. "How are you?"

"I am well, Your Grace." Sansa said. "Thank you."

Tyrion noticed Sansa's pained expression had immediately disappeared, putting on her mask she wore so often. She was a far better actress than Cersei could ever know.