Hello and thank you so much for coming to read this new story! This is a tale that happens in the same extended Game of Thrones universe as my previously published Tyrion Lannister story, but it is not necessary to read that story first to follow this one.
As this story progresses, my focus is on Sansa's psychological state and how that effects her sexuality. Each installment will have sexual content, but it is not the central focus of this story.
I hope you enjoy it! Ratings and comments are always appreciated!
It was ten years to the day that Sansa Stark had been crowned Queen of the North. Under her leadership the North had prospered. They had forged peace with many nations, rebuilt many great castles of the North, and thrived as an independent country on the continent of Westeros. Queen Sansa was well loved by her countrymen and well respected by her peers.
As she gazed into the mirror in her private dressing room, Sansa clasped the black fur cloak over her shoulders and took note of the lines forming around her mouth. 'My mother had lines like these,' she thought. How old had Catelyn Stark been when she was killed? Much older than Sansa was now, yet she already saw the worry lines setting in.
Sansa sighed and picked up her antler handled brush to smooth her long red hair. At least she hadn't seen any greys sneak into her hair yet, but at this pace it wouldn't be long. The stresses of being queen were greater than she had ever anticipated. Sansa replaced the brush and looked toward the heavy wooden door of the room.
She needed to make her way down to the South gate soon before the visiting delegation arrived. Sansa had been expecting this visit for years now, but she was unready for it still. Sansa's brother Bran had been King of the Six Kingdoms as long as Sansa had been Queen of the North and they had met many times over the decade but somehow they had both avoided the topic of succession every time. But it could be avoided no longer.
The Hand of the King, Tyrion Lannister, and his family, as well as a small delegation from Southern Westeros were set to arrive today and Sansa knew that the main topic of discussion was the plan for both kingdoms after the current rulers died.
Sansa had no idea what her brother was planning. Bran had been crippled since childhood. He lost the use of his legs and lower half of his body after he was pushed from the broken tower in the Winterfell grounds. It was an assumed fact that Bran would father no children.
Sansa stood and crossed to the door. She had been dodging the questions of marriage and children for ten years now and she knew that starting today she had to answer those questions. Outside her dressing room, Sansa's head of security, Doran Endras, escorted her through the main keep and out to the courtyard. The courtyard was full of excitement. Every worker from the stables to the greenhouse, to the armory were milling about for a chance to see the visitors from the South. Winterfell employed and housed over three hundred people and the children of the workers had free run of the Winterfell yards. As Sansa stepped out of the Great Keep there were cries of adoration and she waved to the workers who cheered her. She recognized many of the faces, but knew so few of them by name.
Sansa thought of her father, Eddard. He had always seemed to know every Winterfell worker by name. When he saw them he asked them about their families and made sure they had enough supplies for the next winter. Sansa knew the people of Winterfell loved her, but she didn't always feel she deserved that love.
Sansa walked with Endras across the courtyard and turned South at the corner of the library. Sansa saw the women from the kitchens also walking toward the South gate as well as the boys from the stables. The blacksmith yard was still ringing with the sound of hammers on steel. Sansa peered through the heat vapors from their fires and saw a tall, solid young man beating a length of steel into submission. Each swing brought a loud crack of metal on metal and a flurry of sparks.
Queen Sansa stepped up beside Winterfell's Maester Grundwald and the rest of her personal staff.
The great wooden portcullis of the Winterfell Southern gate was being raised and the sound of approaching hooves and wagon wheels grew louder. The first wagon came through the opening and stopped to let out it's important passengers. A footman jumped down from the front of the wagon and opened the door. Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King stepped down from the doorway.
Sansa smiled to see his small frame again. Once long ago her husband, but now long annulled, Sansa and Tyrion had become friends and allies. It had been near three years since they had been in the same place and Sansa saw that it was not just her that had started to show some age; Tyrion's hair and beard were beginning to show a bit of salt and pepper.
Tyrion turned back to the wagon and offered a hand to the next to appear: his daughter Joanna quickly followed by her twin brother Jamie. Seven years old now, Joanna and Jamie were both dressed in Lannister red and had the signature blonde hair. Joanna stood quite a bit taller than her brother who was a dwarf like his father. They stood to the side as Tyrion helped his younger son down from the wagon. Four year old Tobias had a mop of blonde curls and bright pink cheeks. He was almost as tall as his older brother already. Tyrion kept Tobias' hand in his and the four Lannisters approached Queen Sansa.
JoAnna gave a cute little curtsy and a shy smile. Jaime bowed his little head and Tobias smiled up at Sansa.
"Hello your majesty," Tyrion said with a nod of his head as well.
"Hello Tyrion, welcome back to Winterfell," Sansa smiled in return then looked down at the three children. "And welcome to the North for the first time."
"Thank you, your majesty," Joanna and Jaime said in child-voiced unison.
"Was Her Highness, Linnea not able to make the journey?" Sansa asked Tyrion.
"I'm here!" came a shout from the door of the carriage. Princess Linnea stepped out of the wagon carrying a bundle wrapped in wool that Sansa knew was Tyrion and Linnea's newest daughter, Annafried who had been born six moons before. Linnea walked up to join her family with a smile. Sansa was somewhat relieved to see that Linnea had changed in appearance as well though in different ways. Linnea had not gotten back to her pre-pregnancy weight after any of her pregnancies and now she could be described as a bit plump. Her face was full and her cheeks were still pink and youthful. Her long blonde hair was braided back into a towering crown.
Linnea approached Sansa and knelt in a small curtsy before leaning in to touch cheeks with her long time friend.
"I'm sorry I am late," Linnea explained. "When this one is hungry, she expects to be fed immediately, no matter what noblewomen are waiting for us." Sansa smiled down at the infant girl who was blowing bubbles with her mouth and felt the awkward twinge she always felt around babies.
"You all must be exhausted from your trip," said Maester Grundwald. "Let me show you to the guest house where you can all freshen up."
The group began to move inward into the keep and the onlooking workers slowly went back to their respective jobs. Sansa ended up walking next to little Jaime Lannister who looked so much like Tyrion it was astounding. He looked up at Sansa with wide blue eyes.
"Yes, Jaime?" She said with a smile.
"Is it true that there are still real wolves in the North?"
Sansa chuckled, "Yes, the North is full of wolves. Their numbers continue to grow because hunting them for sport has been outlawed."
"Will we see any?" Jaime asked. His little legs did a happy skip at the news of the wolves.
"We don't have any wolves in the keep, but if your parents allow it I can have Ser Endras take you out to see some."
"Papa, can I go?" He turned to his father.
"I'll have to talk it over with your mother," Tyrion answered.
They approached the main doors of the guest house and Sansa said goodbye for now.
That evening a banquet was held in the Great Hall to welcome the visitors. After the food had been cleared away, dancing had broken out between the tables and spread through the room. JoAnna and Jaime had already made friends with some of the children who lived in the keep with their parents and were running about the room playing tag around the dancers. Princess Linnea was attempting to show little Tobias how to do the dance that all the adults were doing in the big circle but his little arms were no match for his twirling mother.
Sansa and Tyrion sat at the head table looking over them all. Baby Annafried was sitting on Tyrion's knee attempting to steal all the silverware off the table to put in her mouth.
"You have such a lovely family Tyrion," Sansa said suddenly. "I never would have expected that from you before the war."
"Before the war, it never would have happened. I would have drunk myself to an early death and my siblings would have conquered Westeros for the Lannister name," Tyrion stopped and gave a chuckle. "But marriage changes you."
"Marriage, to a woman who loves you, changes you," Sansa corrected.
Tyrion saw his error, "Ah, yes. I suppose the marriage between us didn't have that effect then."
"What do you think would have happened if we had stayed married? If the High Septon hadn't annulled our union and we'd tried to make it work after the fire? Would we have little half wolf-half lion children running around?"
Sansa peered at Tyrion through narrowed eyes, "What a silly question, Tyrion." She batted away the query with a laugh but she felt the heat in her cheeks at the idea.
"You're right," Tyrion leaned back pulling a gold spoon from Annafried's little toothless mouth. "Hypothetical situations are better left for our official meeting tomorrow."
Sansa fidgeted in her great chair and the mention of tomorrow's council.
Annafried, now empty handed, started to whine in Tyrion's arms. He turned her to face him and made funny faces in an attempt to make her smile but her whines turned to cries and quickly to a high pitched wail.
As if on cue, Linnea appeared next to Tyrion and took Annafried up into her arms.
"Hej min lilla flicka, är du hungrig?" She cooed to the little girl in her native language. Linnea sat in the chair to the other side of Sansa and without even a glance around the room she unhooked the top of her dress and pulled down the fabric exposing her left breast offering it to little Annafried.
Sansa felt her cheeks burn at the immodesty of the moment and looked away. It was not uncommon for women in Westeros to breastfeed their own babies, but to do it so openly in a room full of women and men was quite shocking. Sansa saw Tyrion looking at his wife lovingly. The action didn't seem to phase him at all as he watched his wife feed their child.
"My love, I think it is almost time that our children get to bed," Linnea said.
Tyrion nodded and Sansa stole another look at Linnea, chest still openly exposed to the air while Annafried suckled.
"Yes," Sansa agreed. "Tomorrow will be a long day. It's best that we all get a good night's rest." Sansa stood and as the current song came to an end the rest of the crowd began to dissipate.
Sansa left the Great Hall and instead of going straight to the Keep she took a stop at the Sept. The small Sept had been built for her mother when she married Eddard Stark. Catelyn had kept her Southern Gods and only Sansa had really followed her. The other Starks had followed Eddard in his devotion to the old Gods of the North. Sansa entered the seven sided building and looked up into the faces of the stone reliefs that each depicted one of the seven. She looked from face to face, trying to decide which one she should be asking for wisdom on this evening. She had long stopped her prayers to the Maid and the Knight who just seemed to mock her now with their youthful and love struck gazes. Often she prayed to the Mother, begging for answers from Catelyn but tonight it seemed more appropriate that she ask for answers from Eddard Stark. Sanse knelt at the altar to the Father, but looking up at the gentle face of stone it didn't feel right.
Ned Stark had prayed to the old Gods in the Godswood. The Winterfell Godswood stood in the Northwest quarter of the enclosure. Sansa had not been a frequenter of the Godswood; she usually visited on the anniversary of her father's death to say a prayer at the base of the heart tree before continuing on to the crypt to lay a wreath on his tomb.
Sansa stood and went to the door of the Sept. She looked up at the moon and knew it was already late and she should go to her own room, but the Godswood was on her mind. Tomorrow's meeting could have a huge impact on the future of her country; she needed to be prepared and she craved the wisdom of her ancestors so she decided that a trip to the Godswood was the right choice.
She walked West through the doors in the wall that separated the main buildings from the outbuildings and cut across the grass of the courtyard. A guard stood sentry at the door to the Godswood and as she approached he pulled it open for her. She continued on the worn path to the Heart Tree. Many people in Winterfell and Wintertown just to the East made regular trips into this Godswood for prayer and devotion. But Sansa would know these woods forever because of the hours and hours spent chasing her brothers and sister through the trees as a child.
She came to the heart tree and the placid pool of water that sat at its base. As a little girl the bleeding eyes of the heart tree had scared her no matter how many times her father explained them to her, but now having seen so much war, death, and injustice the face with it's red sap tears was a soft reminder of happier times.
Sansa sat at the base of the tree as she had seen her father do many times. As a child she learned some simple rhyming prayers to the heart tree, but she had not taken the time to learn any of the real rituals of the old Gods, something she suddenly regretted.
'I suppose I can just talk,' Sansa thought. 'Nothing calms the nerves like talking to a tree.' Yet, to the tree she talked. She poured out her troubles and concerns as if she were talking to her father, and at the end of her speech whether it had worked or it had just been a relief to say it out loud, Sansa did feel more at peace.
She guessed she'd been in the Godswood for close to two hours when she started to head back towards the main tower. When she got to the door to the courtyard, the sentry was not there and she assumed that he was on a patrol of the grounds. She quietly closed the door behind her and headed toward the Great Keep but after just a few paces she stopped when she heard the noise of a woman laughing. She stopped and looked around. To her immediate left was the guest house. The building was by now completely dark except for the royal suite which had a half moon balcony coming out the South side of the building. Sansa stood beneath that stone balcony but she could tell that the fire in the hearth of that room was still strong and candles were lit on the balcony as well.
There was the laugh again-not even a laugh, a giggle.
"Tyrion!" the giggling voice said. It was Linnea. Sansa felt her cheeks flush at the realization that Tyrion and Linnea were standing above her in what was probably a moment of some intimacy.
The giggles continued and after a minute evolved to more of a moaning sound. Sansa's eyes went wide realizing that she still stood listening to them. She should continue to her quarters and go to bed...but her curiosity was on high alert. She glanced up at the stone again; from below she could hear but not see anything. She looked around the yard. From the ground she wouldn't have a good angle for what was happening on the balcony no matter where she stood.
Her eyes flitted to the library tower which stood across the stone path. The tower was most likely locked for the night, but there was a staircase that circled the building that ended with a landing that faced the guest house. If she could get across the path without being seen, she could easily sneak up the stairs and get a view of the balcony.
She took a step toward the tower and stopped herself, 'What am I doing?' she thought. 'Am I really going to spy on visiting dignitaries who are my friends?'
"Oh, Tyrion!" came a whimper from above and Sansa suddenly moved toward the library tower without more hesitation. At the base of the old, wood stairs she peered up at the balcony. She could see Linnea standing at the edge in a shimmering silver robe. Tyrion stood behind her on a chair and his lips were on her neck while one hand explored inside his wife's robe on her ample bosom.
Sansa continued up the stairs and as she came around the tower, the entirety of the stone balcony came into view. Linnea had turned to face her husband, his hands were on her neck as they kissed in the candlelight. Sansa saw a pitcher of wine and two glasses on the ledge of the balcony and wondered how long these Lannisters had been romancing in the Winterfell moonlight.
Sansa saw Tyrion's hands run down Linnea's arms then disappear between them, then they were back, pushing the silvery robe off her shoulders. The fabric fell, fluttering down Linnea's body, exposing her completely to the night. Sansa saw her entire back, her dimpled arse cheeks, and the thick, full hips that had brought four babies into the world. Tyrion pulled back and looked at his wife in the moonlight. Even from this far, Sansa could see the love in his eyes as he took his wife's body in.
He dropped his mouth to one of Linnea's large breasts. Her breasts hung low and heavy with hard nipples that had nursed babes and now brought pleasure to both herself and her husband. Linnea's head fell back with a moan and Sansa felt her own breasts ache slightly at the idea of being suckled and kissed.
Linnea ran her hand through her husband's hair, encouraging his mouth on her chest as he switched to her other mound. Then it was her turn to touch him. She ran her hands under the hem of his tunic and pushed it up his body and over his head discarding it on the stone floor. She ran her hands down his chest as they kissed again. Her fingers came to the ties that secured his breeches at his hips and deftly undid them and slipped a hand inside them. Sansa heard Tyrion's gasp as his wife took his member in her hand.
The breeches fell to Tyrion's feet and Sansa heard herself gasp as she saw Tyrion Lannister standing naked, cock erect in the moonlight. He was a dwarf in stature, but his member took her breath away. His question from earlier that night flew through her mind, 'What do you think would have happened if we had stayed married?' Sansa felt her chest heaving as she remembered the night of her own wedding to Tyrion Lannister. He had pulled her to their chamber to escape King Joffrey's taunting. He had poured a glass of wine and Sansa had removed her own dress with trembling fingers and a quivering lip. But he had stopped her saying that he would not share her bed until she wanted him to, even if she never wanted him to.
She had been a fourteen year old girl whose entire family had been ripped away from her. The idea of being physically united to Tyrion Lannister had turned her stomach but now she saw him naked with his wife and she felt something entirely new. It wasn't a lust for Tyrion Lannister but for the connection that she saw between him and his wife. Their love for each other had been plain to see for many years, since almost right after they were married, but this sexual desire that coursed between them was palpable.