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[A rather grimy and not very impressed Tyrion Lannister appears on the screen, wiping grease from his face and hands.]

Right, well, I just figured out where I am -- I suppose I should be grateful I spent so much time on the Twin Roses. ... anyways. I've got the temperature regulated and as you can see, we have lights. If anyone else has anything else to contribute - namely food or coffee? I would gladly take both.

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Two years. I feared seeming mad if I mentioned this life so I never said anything. I tried to be subtle about it but you never demonstrated any understanding and, well, from what we've talked about here it seems I'm from your future. It's been a very long time for me but the North needed a Queen, not love-addled Sansa Stark. I did what was needful.

( It hurts, though, having to have mourned her relationship with Tyrion in conjunction with fearing for their lives. She should have been happy to see the North unbent and unbroken but instead she'd felt a bit hollow, having had a taste of this life instead. Now it seems she's come back. )

Two years ... and they have not gotten you to remarry? I must say, your own Hand must be sadly lacking in that case, darling wife. Think of the alliances the Queen of the North could make simply by having a patsy consort.

[He exhaled, rubbing his face.]

Our freedom cannot come soon enough.

( Sansa freezes for a moment, stricken. The idea of being forced to remarry anyone after her harrowing marriage to Ramsay is enough to rattle her to the core and it takes her a moment to recover, inhaling sharply. )

Who would make me remarry, knowing what Ramsay did to me? The Lords of the North saw my bruises and did nothing. They were complicit and now that I am their queen they are guilty. None of them would force me to the altar.

Hm, then they are smarter than I gave them credit for.

[Tyrion looks thoughtful, before his lips twitch upwards.] I suppose I could make myself useless to other people and sneak off to you, one way or another. I am sure you could use a Hand more than a husband, any day of the week.

I don't...I would rather have a husband.

( Sansa feels as if she's twelve again and trying to lie in front of the entirety of court and knowing they can all see through her. She trembles a bit and bites her lip. )

I would rather have you just as you are, Tyrion. I don't want a Hand, I want a husband. I want you.

... well. Then we are going to be together as man and wife. As we both prefer.

[He pressed another kiss to the screen, trying for a comforting smile.]

Which we will be very, very soon. I swear it.

I'm afraid I'll be too different for you now, Tyrion. I really hope that isn't the case and I haven't changed too much over these past two years.

( Sansa sighs a bit and touches the screen, wishing she was in the room with him. )

Tell me what we'll do when we're sprung free? How will we spend our day?

There is no such thing as you being too different for me, Sansa. We change but we are still together, for that very reason. We adapt.

Perhaps we do. I hope so, anyway. We were so close in the Fleet and we'd made so much progress - I don't want to become the girl afraid of your touch again. We've had too much lost time.

We are not going to lose us, Sansa. Neither one of us will allow it.

Good. I won't allow myself to worry about it any longer, then, and if I start? Then you tell me to stop.

I will tell you to stop. As I know you will do the same for me.

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