Previously on PotG: The guardians discover what Walder Frey had in store for Robb Stark and his bannermen.

Chapter 32: He Loves Her and She Loves Him

*Nathalia*

Nathalia disperses the guardians, hoping that they could bring into justice most of the traitors and take them to the dungeons. She lets Alessandra and Dyllon stay with her inside the great hall to tend to the young wolf king.

"Has he lost a lot of blood?" She asks Alessandra.

"Yes," Her friend says gravely. Ally kneels down beside the heaving boy. They don't take notice of his inability to hold in his sobs. Tearing a piece of her gown, she places the fabric on his wounds to try and stop the bleeding. Between Nathalia and her, she has always been the better healer. "Calm now, Robb Stark." She soothes. The boy lets the guardian lull him into a sleep. When Ally is satisfied that he won't awaken, she turns to Dyllon. "I need to help Thalia take charge. Could you please…?"

Dyllon nods, his face grim and void of any emotion. This is probably the first time he's seen such blood bath done in malicious thoughts. He exchanges place with Alessandra and lifts Robb Stark's battered body in his arms. Carefully, he exits the great hall in search of a cleaner room and barks orders to simpering ladies to get him clean water and clothes for the boy.

"We need to leave as soon as we can," Alessandra reminds Nathalia who is still staring mournfully at the queen and Catelyn Stark's dead bodies. If only they'd been here sooner. Fewer lives would have been taken.

With a sigh, Nathalia orders Walder Frey's servants to take the bodies to the nearest room and clean them thoroughly. If they can permit, cleaner clothes for the women too.

"I'll make sure it is done," A woman dressed more finely than the others says. Perhaps, she is one of Walder's daughters. Nathalia sends her a cold glance and nods. The woman immediately scampers away.

"The Lannisters will send more men to kill the young wolf if Tywin learns that he lives," She comments, eyes full of worry.

Alessandra agrees, "Where should we take them?"

Sitting on the nearest chair, she suddenly feels exhausted. She wipes a cold sweat off her brow before replying, "Where else? We could send them to their castles, and they could try and protect themselves. Tywin need not know that Greatjon Umber lives. He could rally the other bannermen, he's loyal. Robb Stark, we need to take him with us."

"Surely you do not mean?"

"Yes," She says, her mind made up. "We should finish this before any more blood is shed this way,"

"Nathalia!"

She whirls around. There stood Jon Snow, alive and barely scratched. Although he has a few good wounds on him, he's far better than Robb Stark was. Before she could run to him, she notices how grim his face is.

"What is it? What happened?

"You both better come with me," He says. "It's Steffon."

Immediately, she and Alessandra follow him out towards an exit. The winds are sharper, as if it has noticed the severity of the situation. Without his gasps of pain, Nathalia would have never noticed the pale white guardian shaking on the ground. Steffon gasps like a fish, unable to calm himself from whatever's consuming him. Nathalia runs to him, clutches his shoulders and turns to Jon.

"He's been poisoned," He supplies the information. "The idiot's been telling me to leave him here. I tried to get help but they bolted the doors. I've fought off the men they sent here to kill me,"

"N—Nathalia," A raspy voice comes from the suffering guardian. "I failed y—you,"

"You didn't!" She almost screeches. How could he think he failed her? He's delivered Jaime Lannister safely in King's Landing and protected Robb Stark before she even could.

"I—I never thought I'd die in Westeros," His voice is weaker. The poison must be taking a toll on him. He begins to quiver in response to his body trying to heal him.

"Jon! Ally! Hold him down," She orders. Only one guardian has been poisoned before. She has only failed on guardian before. Tonight, she won't fail another. When her companions have done what was asked, she begins. With a call to the gods, she brings a ray of light to her hands and pushes hard on the guardian's chest. How do you eliminate the toxins in one's blood? By burning them, of course.

Steffon's agonizing screams echo as he thrashes violently against his restraints. Removing poison has never been an easy feat, especially with the poisoned. Only guardians are able to withstand the physical agony of their blood being burned.

"Hold him steady!" She yells when he managed to escape Alessandra's clutches. With another ray, he sputters blood on the snowed ground. He gurgles the blood out, almost choking in it before laying limp.

The three of them breathe heavily before she lets Jon take Steffon inside. She and Alessandra follow him, not bothered that their skirts have blood on them. They don't say anything, too grievous for the almost loss of another guardian before they parted ways—Nathalia following Jon and Alessandra entering the room where Dyllon is trying to heal Robb Stark.

Inside the empty chamber, she watches as Jon Snow lays his friend down on the beddings. Steffon could be dead if not for the unnoticeable rise and fall of his chest. She barely notices it before Jon Snow lifts her to his strong arms. Nathalia lets out an uncharacteristic sob, grateful that the gods have let him live. Her tears continue to flow as she grips him firmly, unable to believe that he's alive and unharmed.

"I thought I lost you," She clutches his hair. She's almost ashamed to admit that she thought the worst.

He kisses her neck continuously, still unable to let her go. "I love you…I love you…I love you…"

"Gods, I love you too," She whispers.

They hold their foreheads together when they parted. "It is good to see you,"

"It's good to see you too," She cries.

Their short reunion is interrupted by the door opening. Nathalia parts with Jon but holds his hand before he could escape. Dyllon, knowing that he had interrupted something, raises a quizzical brow before entering the room.

"Will he live?" She asks, clearing her throat from the block her sob brought.

The handsome guardian nods, "Yes,"

"But?" Jon prods, worried for his brother. He has probably noticed the blood covering Dyllon's hands and tunic.

The guardian studies the bastard slowly, as if he's able to deter Jon with a look. "His body, I can heal. His mind, I cannot."

"He's lost his mother and wife," She nods, understanding. "How long before we can take him from here?"

"A night's rest would do him good," Dyllon replies. When no one else says something, he bows and takes his leave.

"Catelyn's dead?" Jon questions, as if trying to make sure.

"Yes, my love." Nathalia lifts herself up, pressing her lips against his. They both sigh, contented to keep their first kiss since parting a moment so innocent. Pulling away, she rests her trembling hands on his cheek. "I'll be back, someone has to make sure those bodies are decomposed properly. Get some rest and stay here,"

He doesn't say anything as she walks away from the room.

*Sansa*

She's dead. Her mother is dead. Perhaps, if she would have taken Jon's offer of bringing her to Robb's camp, she would have seen her mother one last time. Perhaps, even dying with her. But no, the last time she saw her mother was when she left for King's Landing full of hope and silly notions about being queen.

Another rack of sobs is released by the lady. Nobody dared to enter her quarters, not even when she ransacked the place to just try and destroy anything. Her beddings are torn, her mirror shattered, and her face exhausted from the crying. The sorrow, she knows, will pass. For now, she'll grieve and let herself be swallowed by the darkness consuming her. She has been staring pensively outside her window for hours, looking at nothing.

She wonders what her brothers would think, wonders if she would ever see them again. Would they approve of Jaime Lannister's attentions towards her? Would they even make it out of these cruel games alive?

"Sansa,"

Her door opens.

"Go away," She whispers. She doesn't want to see anyone, even him. Not now.

But he enters the room. The door closes behind him, leaving her and him in utter darkness. She hadn't bothered to call the maids to make a fire. She'd rather die of cold than see any form of light.

"Have you eaten?"

She doesn't reply. She doesn't want to.

"I'll fetch a maid for the fire,"

Before he could exit, she starts screaming. "No! No! No! I told you to leave. I want to be alone!"

"Sansa,"

"You don't know what it's like!"

"To lose a mother?"

She shakes her head. "It's not the same! She was murdered! My mother was murdered in cold blood! By the order of your family!"

He advances towards her by the sound of his footsteps until she could feel his breath on her shoulders. "My family does not share anything with me anymore, they have noticed my affections for you. They have noticed Natasha. I didn't know anything, sweet girl. If I did, I would have sent a whisper to Steffon."

She knows he's right. Still, that did not stop her from facing him and beating his chest over and over again, "You killed her you killed her you killed her,"

He doesn't do anything, letting her abuse his body with her fetal attempts to hurt him. Sometime later, she exhausts herself from the beating and lets her body fall against his. Jaime exhales, lifting her to his arms and begins carrying her to her bed. Carefully, he removes her gown. The heavy material falls on the floor along with her corset before she is left with nothing but her smallclothes. He looks at her, eyes blank and void of any emotion, before removing his boots and climbing behind her.

"She's with your father now, Sansa." He whispers, stroking her hair.

She lets out another pitiful sob. "Jon was here, and he asked me to return to Robb with him. I said no,"

"You were being brave,"

She scoffs, "I was foolish. Now I'm a prisoner in King's Landing forever."

"No," Is his immediate reaction. "I'm here. As long as I'm breathing, Sansa Stark, I am yours as you are mine. From this day until the end of my days," He repeats the false vows she had said with his brother. This time, there is a truth with them.

Sansa feels the cold dread leave her body. Jaime had given her time to grieve alone all day, now she just wants to forget. Slowly, her body begins to face his. She is barely conscious of her blotchy face and trails her fingers on his serious face.

"Jaime," She whispers. "Make love to me, make me forget."

"Sansa,"

Their breaths mix with each other with exquisite anticipation. Her eyes close when he bestows soft kisses on her forehead, her temple, her cheeks, her nose, her lips…Jaime has been the most attentive of lovers, always making sure that she's satisfied before taking his pleasure. Now, it's all about her, her grief and his willingness to make the darkness go away.

Their tongues perform the familiar dance they've been doing since her wedding. His heat envelops her, pulling her to the brink of ecstasy as his body moves above hers. Her smallclothes fall around her waist, leaving her breasts bare. Jaime Lannister gives both of them his attentions, sucking and biting until she's withering in heat underneath him. He knows how much she loves them being abused by his expert lips. He pushes the rest of her clothing away using his mouth, leaving a trail of hot kisses towards her aching center. His tongue reaches the honey waiting for him and he makes sure to lap her arousal until she's whimpering and forgetting all the pain the day has caused. He inserts one finger. She yelps. He adds another. She moans. Gods, Jaime is exquisite.

He maneuvers his fingers to move in a 'come hither' motion, keeping it at a pace she's bound to scream from. He keeps doing it enough that she has to grip the nearest thing—his head—before her cries of pleasure fills the dark bedchamber.

"I want you inside me, Jaime." She whispers. "Make me forget,"

Of course he obliges. He slides in easily enough and soon their hips are moving at a familiar motion guaranteed to give them both the utmost pleasure.

"Look at me, Sansa." He orders, holding her face softly.

Immediately, those soft pale eyes meets his. She could never deny him anything for too long.

"I love you," He says a little more harshly than he intended.

"No,"

"I love you,"

"Jaime, no."

He thrusts stronger, making her whimper in delight. Despite her ladylike temperament, she enjoys a good fuck. And Jaime likes to oblige. "Sansa,"

She begins to shake her head but he holds her gaze firmly with his.

"Sansa, my love, I love you."

"Oh Jaime," She sighs. With this, he knows he has won. "I love you too."

*Alessandra*

"That Jon Snow, who is he?"

She is surprised by Dyllon's sudden question upon entering Robb Stark's chambers. Her hand pauses from where it had been scrubbing the king in the north clean and, instead, drops the clean cloth on the floor.

"What do you mean?" She curses. "Those damned Frey girls should be doing this. The gods know that they've caused enough trouble. Might as well put them to good use." She walks towards the nearest basin and cleans her bloodied hands off. Will she get a night's sleep? Hopefully she does. The journey ahead of them is long and dangerous. Better gather all her energy.

Dyllon's eyes watch her figure open the door and listen to her voice bark orders to whomever is outside the door. Unlucky bastard he is. He continues to follow her as she exits the room and asks a female guardian to guard the young wolf. Trusting the girl enough to protect him, she enters another empty chamber that allows them to be without anyone of hearing.

"Jon Snow is Robb Stark's bastard brother." She explains, removing the front laces of her gown. She can't wait to remove her dirty clothes. There is nothing in the world that annoys her more. "It is said that Ned Stark had fathered him when he was away from his lady wife, making him a shy few months younger than the King in the North."

"You've met him, how?"

She wonders why this man is so curious. He doesn't seem to mind her undressing herself in front of him. Thank the gods that the maids had enough mind to bring in a tub of hot water for her to clean herself with. The next few days would mean her having to wear her most comfortable clothing—men's breeches. Her pair is resting on a chair near the tub along with a dry cloth. She doesn't speak to Dyllon, angrily tearing her clothes apart. Her hands seem to be shaking too much that she can't figure out how to remove her corset. It is only when another pair of hands join hers that she allows herself to look at him straight in the eyes.

Gods, his eyes are blue. He looks nothing like Gabriel. His eyes are much softer and his mouth easier to smile. She remembers how the latter fits perfectly with hers. How for a short moment, she could almost remember to love again.

She allows him to untie her laces, never dropping his gaze. He seems to be experienced enough to know how to undress a woman. She's not jealous. Of course she's not. Would she have any reason to be? Finally, she's in her smallclothes. The crackling of the fire and their sudden labored breathing is joined with the rustling of her clothing as they fall flat on the floor. She stands before him, as naked as her name day.

Then she drops her eyes, turns, and enters the tub. When she has relaxed herself enough to continue talking with him, she begins her tale. "We've met him when we were at Castle Black. Nathalia was with me from the start, you see. It is only when she's gotten word that Ned Stark is to be beheaded that we separated. She took Jon with her."

His footsteps are his reply. He appears beside the tub, his gaze never leaving hers when she opens her eyes to acknowledge him. Perhaps he's as honorable as his father. "They seem quite-,"

"Close?" A smirk makes its way on her face. "Why, Dyllon, you sound almost jealous."

"I'm not!" He says a bit too forcefully. She begins to become satisfied when she notices his gaze drop to her breasts almost submerged on the tub. "I've just never considered it…that she could be with someone else—what with my father acting as if they've both been separated against their wishes."

She nods, understanding his confusion. "Gabriel and Nathalia, they've trained together, they grew up together, and they fought in Westeros together." She allows the memories from their beginning to play in her head. Nathalia was much more naïve then, almost childlike. Gabriel had kept her from getting hurt. "Our people always thought they'd end up together."

"But they didn't."

"They didn't." She nods.

"And now he has my mother,"

"And she has Jon." She says, a fond smile on her face as she remembers Jon Snow's influence on her too serious friend. "He loves her and she loves him,"

"A guardian loving a mortal?"

"It happens," She shrugs. "Now are you just going to stand there or are you going to fuck me?"

He didn't need any more encouragement.

FINALLY! So sorry for the long delay. I've just been so busy with my last year of Uni. Have any of you watched the latest season of Game of Thrones? Gah! I love every second of it. Don't worry, though. Ghost would be treated more nicely in this fic ;)