I'm sorry, I thought it was a common cold, but it's gotten worse these past two days. I can't write much. Please bear with me. I will catch up as soon as possible in the next few days. Thank you.
"Ow!" Princess Myrcella cried out, stumbling out of the box and running towards her little brother.
Sansa found herself filled with a strange and reckless courage. "You should go with her," she said to the King. "Your brother might be hurt."
Joffrey shrugged. "So what?"
"You should help him up and tell him he rode well." Sansa couldn't help herself.
"He was knocked off his horse and fell to the ground," the King pointed out. "How is that riding well?"
"Look," the Hound interrupted them. "The lad's brave. He's going to try again."
Attendants were helping Tommen back onto the pony. If only Tommen were the older brother and Joffrey the younger, Sansa thought. I wouldn't mind marrying Tommen.
Just then, a sound from in front of the Gatehouse Tower startled everyone. Chains creaked, the portcullis rose, and the main gate slowly opened with the sound of hinges. "Who told them to open the gates?" Joffrey demanded. The Red Keep's gates had been locked for days due to the constant unrest in the city.
With a clang of metal and the sound of hooves, a troop of riders passed through the Iron Gate. Clegane walked over to the King's side, one hand on the hilt of his Longsword. Though the newcomers were dusty and tired, they held high the Lannister family's Golden Lion Banner on a field of red. Only a few of them were Lannister Soldiers in red cloaks and armor; more were Free Riders and wandering Warriors, their armor varied, swords in hand... In addition, there were fearsome Barbarians who seemed to have stepped out of an old wet nurse's stories—Bran used to love these stories the most—they were clad in ragged animal skins and tough leather, with long hair and beards, some with blood-soaked bandages on their heads and hands, others missing eyes or ears, or even several fingers.
Among this group, riding a tall red Steed, encased front and back by a strange, elevated saddle, was the Queen Regent's Dwarf brother, nicknamed The Imp, Tyrion Lannister. His newly grown long beard, a mix of yellow and black, covered his flat, sunken face. His beard was tangled and rough as wire. A black and white striped Shadowcat skin cloak fluttered on his shoulders. He held the reins in his Left Hand and his Right Hand hung in a white silk sling. Other than that, to Sansa, he was as deformed as he had been on his last visit to Winterfell: his forehead was prominent, his eyes were of different sizes, and he was still the most ugly person she had ever seen.
Despite this, Tommen kicked his spurs and galloped across the Squares on his pony, shouting excitedly. A large, steady-footed Barbarian, whose beard almost hid his face, lifted the boy, armor and all, from the saddle and set him on the ground next to his uncle. Tyrion patted his back armor, and Tommen's breathless laughter echoed between the City Walls. Sansa was surprised to find that they were the same height. Myrcella ran up behind her brother, and the Dwarf lifted her by the waist and spun her around, making her squeal with delight.
Then the Dwarf released her, kissed her forehead gently, and limped across the square towards Joffrey. Two men followed him: one was a black-haired, black-eyed Mercenary who moved like a hunting cat; the other was a gaunt young man with an empty eye socket. Tommen and Myrcella followed behind them.
The Dwarf knelt on one knee before the King. "Your Majesty."
"It's you," Joffrey said.
"It is," The Imp replied. "But it is proper to speak more politely to your uncle and elders."
"I heard you were dead," the Hound said.
The small man glanced at the large man. His Eyes, one green and one black, were both cold. "I am speaking to the King. I have no time for his vicious dog."
"I'm so glad you're not dead!" Princess Myrcella said.
"Good girl, we are in agreement." Tyrion turned to Sansa. "My lady, I am deeply sorry for what has happened to you. The Gods are truly cruel."
Sansa didn't know what to say. Was he truly sorry for her? Or was he mocking her? It wasn't The Gods who were cruel, it was Joffrey.
"Joffrey, I am also deeply sorry for what has happened to you," the Dwarf said.
"Happened? What happened?"
"Have you forgotten your father? Big man, black beard, very formidable. Try to think hard, you should remember. He was the King before you."
"Oh, him? Yes, it was very sad. He was killed by a Boar."
"Your Majesty, is that the 'official' story?"
Joffrey frowned. Sansa felt like she should say something. What had Septa Mordane taught her? Politeness is a lady's armor. Yes, that was it. So she put on her armor and spoke. "My lord, I am very sorry about my Mother arresting you."
"I fear many people are sorry for that," Tyrion replied. "Before this is over, I think some will regret it... But thank you for your concern. Joffrey, where is your Mother?"
"She is in a meeting with my councilors," the King replied. "Your brother Jaime keeps losing battles." He glared at Sansa angrily, as if it were all her fault. "Now he's captured by the Stark family, and we've lost Riverrun, and her stupid brother has declared himself King."
The Dwarf chuckled. "Anyone can be King these days."
Little Joff didn't know how to respond, but he looked very displeased and suspicious. "Yes, well, Uncle, I'm also glad you're not dead. Did you bring me a Naming Day gift?"
"Yes, my cleverness."
"I'd rather have Robb Stark's head." Little Joff gave Sansa a malicious look. "Tommen, Myrcella, let's go."
Sandor Clegane stayed a moment longer. "Little man, I advise you to watch your tongue." After giving his warning, he strode away, following the King.
Now only Sansa and the Dwarf remained, along with his group of monsters. She tried to think of something to say. "Your hand is injured," she finally managed.
"I was hit by one of your northerners' Morningstars during the battle by the Green Fork. I fell off my horse, which is why I wasn't killed." He examined her face, and his smile softened slightly. "Mourning your father, are you? You look so sad."
"My father was a traitor," Sansa said immediately. "My brother and Mother are also traitors." This had become a reflex. "I am absolutely loyal to my beloved Joffrey."
"Undoubtedly, as loyal as an Elk surrounded by wolves."
"Lions," she whispered without thinking, and then looked around nervously, relieved that no one was nearby.
The Lannister took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Child, I am only a small Lion, and I promise you, I will never bully you." With that, he bowed. "Now, please excuse me. I have important matters to report to the Queen Regent and the councilors."
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