The sound of weeping woke Jaime Lannister with a start. He opened his eyes to find that the campfire had almost gone out, the air was cold and smelled of oncoming snow. It was still dark. Sansa Stark lay between him and the fire, crying. She had been the same for the past nine nights. All but silent by day and plagued with nightmares and tears once she thought he'd gone to sleep. Many nights she woke up several times. She'd been like this since he rescued her from the Vale. She herself had been unsure she wanted to be rescued, at least by him anyway, but in the end had gone with him as she had no other options.

Once again, he wrestled with what to do with her in this state. He'd tried talking with her some of the other nights but that hadn't helped, she'd only cried harder. Most of the time he just pretended to be asleep. He couldn't say that he was annoyed with her crying. These were not like Cersei's tears, the kind she shed in a rage or to manipulate. Sansa was crying out of deep dark sorrow and sadness. He could hardly blame her. Wanting to do something other than just sit by helplessly, Jaime reached over and put a hand on her arm. She flinched in response, a startled gasp escaping her.

"Sansa." He said gently, never removing his hand from her arm. "I won't hurt you."

She didn't reply to him but he heard her breath catch in her throat as she struggled to calm herself with steady breathing.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked, wondering if that might be part of the reason for her tears.

"Only a little, Ser. If there were really much cause to fear, I expect I would know it by now." She said with a sniffle.

"Sansa, look at me." He pled, she was facing away from him. "Please, I need to tell you something."

Tentatively, she turned towards him and met his gaze, her eyes filled with worry.

"You needn't fear me, not even a little. I will never harm you and I will do everything I can to keep you safe."

Her eyes betrayed her skepticism, then softened. "Well your brother was always kind to me…"

"I know that given the houses we come from, and given the things I've done, that you have little cause to believe me...and there's nothing I can say to prove that I intend to keep my oath to your mother...so please just tell me what I can do to give you fewer tears on this journey."

This time her expression showed surprise. "I don't know Ser...I…I'm sorry to have disturbed your sleep."

He sighed. "Was it a nightmare or a memory that woke you tonight?"

"Both I suppose, and I was just lonely. I'm always lonely." She said, barely a whisper.

He hadn't expected that answer. Having no words to comfort her, he took a risk and placed his hand on her arm as he had done earlier. She accepted it there, even breathing a sigh of relief at his touch. He wondered if perhaps she would accept even further comfort from him.

"It's getting cold. It's going to snow soon. Come closer and be warm." He offered, knowing that she might not accept it if he simply offered to hug her but she might accept warmth for survival.

She only hesitated for a moment before moving closer and allowing herself to be pulled into his arms. She was trembling, her hands balled into fists were clinging to his tunic, and he felt her tears on his neck.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to let go?" He asked, not knowing if she was uncomfortable with the closeness.

"No...please don't...don't let go…" Her voiced cracked a little as she broke into sobs. Jaime held her a little closer, tightening his arms around her, letting Sansa cry as much as she needed to. He rubbed her back and whispered words of comfort in her ear, sometimes he kissed her chastely on the forehead. They didn't know how much time passed. It might have been an hour and it might have been two. Eventually her tears were spent and she relaxed exhausted in his embrace. He loosened his arms and she responded by tightening her grip on his shirt. If she didn't want to go, then Jaime decided he wouldn't make her. Soon they fell asleep in one another's arms. Sansa slept soundly through the rest of the night.

He awoke in the morning on his back and found that Sansa was sleeping half on top of him. Her head on his chest and one arm and leg were wrapped around him, her hands still clung to his tunic. Her hair was splayed in a tangle across his shoulder, leaving her upper back and neck bare, and allowing him to see her scars for the first time. She hadn't spoken of the past at all since their journey began so Jaime had no idea as to the origin of these scars. There were enough lines and marks on her exposed skin to know that she had suffered continual abuse somehow. It couldn't have happened during her childhood, Ned Stark was not that sort of man. Which meant this either came from Joffrey or Littlefinger. He felt sick that his own blood might have done this. She was a beauty, laying there on top of him and in his arms, he had noticed it before but her beauty was even more pronounced when they were so close.

He knew by the change in her breathing when she woke up. Her eyes met his and she immediately scurried away from him, a blush on her cheeks. "Forgive me Ser, I didn't intend to…" Sansa began her courteous apology but stopped when Jaime reached over and took her hand in his.

"There's no need for apologies Sansa. Given everything you have suffered, there is no wrong in seeking warmth and comfort where you can find it." Jaime said.

She opened her mouth to protest, to argue that she hadn't been seeking anything, but instead her face flushed even further when she realized he was right. She had been seeking comfort and she had found it in a Lannister. The despair and loneliness had been so deep that she hadn't even realized until now what she had done. It was one thing to let him escort her home, to fulfill his oath...but to find safety in his arms? What was wrong with her? Sansa felt she was going to be sick. Jaime watched the changing emotions on her face and caught her arm before she could flee.

"Don't." He said gently, and she forced herself not to run away from him. "You needn't run off."

She looked down at her hands, struggling to contain her emotions. It took her all but a few seconds to succeed. When she next glanced up at him, her expression was neutral. It was a talent she had developed while living in the Capital, this ability to mask her feelings. She did it well by day. By night was a different story, he knew. Still, he wanted to see her become a little less reticent.

They shared a breakfast of hard bread and cheese with a little smoked meat. She was back to being silent with him again and though he didn't begrudge her silence, it saddened him that he could do so little for her. Ever since he had found her in the Vale, his every instinct had been to protect her. Along with that came the hope that she would accept his protection and perhaps even learn to trust him. He didn't need or expect her forgiveness for the past. He knew he was probably beyond redemption anyway. But there was at least some honor in being her shield and perhaps some in earning her trust. She did not trust him enough to speak with him, that much was clear. Whatever her thoughts were, she kept them well hidden, probably so they could never be used against her. However, last night might have been a small victory. She had seemed to take comfort in his nearness. If she wouldn't trust him with her thoughts, she had at least trusted him for physical comfort. But now there was a very real danger that she would regret what had happened and pull even further away from him. He couldn't let that happen.

As he climbed onto the horse behind her to resume their journey, he noticed that Sansa leaned back against him in the saddle. She had been so stiff and kept her distance the first few days. He had assumed that exhaustion from sitting so stiffly had been what ultimately won out this past week. Now he wondered if it wasn't something more. She would never admit it if he asked. She would likely pull away and go back to riding stiffly if he even mentioned it. So he said nothing about it, allowing himself to hope that she at least needed him for something.

They stopped by a stream for lunch. Sansa knelt near the water and washed her face and hands before joining him on a fallen log to eat. He'd tried several times that day to draw her into conversation and though she did politely answer his questions, she offered very little information beyond what was asked. At the moment, he was too frustrated to try again. The noise of horses and people speaking caught their attention as they ate. He caught her momentary expression of worry just before she masked it with a neutral one.

"I'm sure they're just ordinary travelers. Nothing to worry about." Jaime said aloud.

She nodded, only a little fear shone through in her eyes. Three men on horseback soon rounded the corner and approached them. They were common men, lowborn, two were wearing leather armor. One of them, an older man, wore no armor at all. They all carried weapons.

"Well, what have we here?" Said one of them. "How did such a pretty little thing like her end up with a cripple?"

"You touch her and you'll find that the cripple can still beat the likes of you." Jaime said with more confidence than he felt.

The men laughed, but it was not a mocking laugh, instead it was a good natured one. "Don't worry, we won't take your woman. We have some of our own a few miles back."

"If that's the case then we'll just be on our way." Jaime said, hand still on his sword.

"Before you're off, have you seen a white stallion anywhere near here?"

"Sorry, we have not." He told them.

With that the men left them to themselves, arguing about where to search next for the missing horse as they went. Jaime felt Sansa's hand on his arm. He didn't know when she had moved to stand almost hidden behind him.

"Thank you Ser." She breathed, almost a whisper.

He turned to her. "No thanks is necessary. You have my protection for as long as you need it. It may not be worth much, coming from a cripple, but it's all I can offer you."

"It's worth a great deal to me." She said, and Jaime knew that she had just revealed something to him that had been long hidden. The fact that she wanted protection.

"I'm sorry I couldn't find you sooner than I did...I saw your scars this morning. It seems you could have used protecting a long time ago."

She nodded, fighting her tears.

"What happened to you Sansa? How did you get those scars?"

To his great surprise, she told him. She told him all that she had suffered under Joffrey in the capital. The beatings, the threats, the way he'd have his guards strike her for saying the wrong thing, or strip her naked for a beating when Robb won a battle. Then she told him of Littlefinger and the unspeakable things he had done to her. He had not beaten her or had any knights do so for him, but he did randomly drug her food and drink, making her incapable of fighting him while he used her body. She had become terrified of eating and nearly starved to death. She told him of her extreme loneliness these past years and the hurt that her family never traded for her or came for her when they had the chance. And she admitted that perhaps she had deserved her fate for having told the Queen her father's plan to leave the city and getting him killed in the first place. Jaime found himself holding her hand as she spoke.

"It wasn't your fault." Jaime told her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "If anything the fault is mine...the things I've done…"

She shook her head. "Petyr told me that you were Joffrey's father...and that you pushed Bran from the tower because he saw you with Queen…"

He didn't deny it, so she went on. "But at least you remained loyal to your family, to the people you loved. If king Robert had found out what Bran saw...Tommen and Myrcella are good...they wouldn't have deserved to die...Bran was good too, but you didn't know him...I betrayed my family. I am the worst Stark that ever lived…"

"I betrayed my king." Jaime said sadly. "Or have you forgotten that?"

"He was not a good king though, was he?"

"No, he was a monster every bit as evil as Joffrey and worse because there was no one left who could control him or influence him to do better. He planned to kill all the inhabitants of the capital rather than surrender it to Robert...but I had been sworn to protect him. I didn't take my oath lightly...then when he asked me to kill my own father…"

Sansa was watching him intently, eyes wide, face still wet with tears. "Why did you never tell anyone this?"

"I still broke my oath. People will believe whatever they wish about the reasons why. Anything I could say would just be an excuse, especially to people like your father. He despised me for it."

"He was a good father and a good man, but he wasn't right about everything."

Her words moved him. He had never expected forgiveness from her and here she had very nearly offered it. She had at least accepted him without condemnation. He moved to ready the horse before she could see the tears in his eyes. She saw them anyway but didn't say a word. They spoke very little the rest of the day. That night they went to sleep on their bedrolls and Jaime woke later to find that Sansa had rolled closer to him and was clinging to his shirt as she'd done the previous night. Silently, he slipped one arm underneath her and wrapped the other one around her, pulling her into a secure embrace. In the morning they awoke still in one another's arms. A quick glance told him that Sansa was already awake. He reached over and brushed her hair away from her face with his hand. She sighed, closing her eyes at his touch and on a whim, he left his hand where it was, resting on her cheek.

"Did you sleep well Sansa? I never heard you wake last night." Jaime asked her.

She hesitated a moment, then answered. "I had no nightmares. It was the first time in many years that I had none."

"Then I'm glad to hear it. But what do suppose has changed that you slept so well?" He asked, curious to know if it had anything to do with him.

"I feel safer with you near." Sansa admitted, a few tears slipping from her eyes.

He brushed them away with his thumb. "So why are you crying now?"

"Because I'm terrified that I might be wrong to trust you at all or that I'm somehow betraying my family all over again." She said.

"Sansa, you aren't betraying your family. It was your mother who sent me on this quest to bring you home. And I think that if I were going to harm you I would have done so by now."

"Maybe mother did send you to find me, but she didn't expect this…"

It took him but a second to understand what she was trying to say. "You feel guilty for taking comfort from a Lannister." He said with realization.

"It's not just that…"She whispered.

Was she saying what he thought she was saying? He lifted her chin so he could see her eyes. There was admiration in her gaze and something more. Lust? Longing?

Impulsively, Jaime leaned closer and kissed her, his lips crashing down on hers. She responded with a low moan, kissing him in return, and pushing her body closer to his. It had been several years since he'd been with a woman and though he had mostly been able to hide his moments of attraction thus far, there was no hiding his need now. Sansa didn't seem to be the least bit frightened by his manhood pressing onto her belly. He knew she was not a maiden but he doubted she had ever done this willingly before. She certainly seemed willing now. Her dress bodice was unlaced and her hands were under his tunic, roaming his skin. He pulled the tunic off over his head, breaking off their kiss to do so. Her breath hitched and her eyes widened as she stared at his bare chest. Jaime grinned, wrapping an arm around her he pulled her near again and resumed kissing her swollen lips. She gasped when he moved to kiss her neck and earlobe. When his hand went down the front of her dress to cup her breast, she moaned again.

"Can we take this off?" Jaime whispered in her ear, pulling at the fabric of her dress. She nodded and he helped her to pull the garment over her head. "This too?" He asked of the shift. She took it off herself, leaving only her smallclothes. His own clothes were off and he settled himself on top of her, resting his weight on his elbows. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his neck. When he finally pushed inside her she cried out, concern that he had he had hurt her made him go still.

"Don't stop." She breathed. He didn't need to be told twice. Her sounds of pleasure continued as she met each of his thrusts. He knew he wouldn't last very long and realized he probably should have spent more time bringing her to climax but it was too late for that now. A few more thrusts and he spilled himself into her with a groan. Then he felt her walls closing around him, her moans growing louder as she finished just seconds after him.

He rolled onto his side, pulling her into his arms as he went. She didn't protest. She snuggled closer to him and buried her face in his chest. He rubbed her back as he caught his breath.

They dressed soon after and ate a breakfast like other days, with one small change. Sansa was smiling. She smiled at the beauty of the day, she smiled at his wit and laughed at his jokes. Not the smiles or laughs of giddy foolish girl, but of a young woman who had found a reason for happiness after so much heartache. She saw that Jaime had noticed her watching him and blushed just slightly.

"What is that?" He asked lightheartedly. "We've just made love and now you're blushing over looking at a clothed man?"

"Petyr said I blushed too often, that it is a terrible weakness to display my thoughts on my face like that. I tried, but I never did learn to stop." She said sadly.

"I don't think it's a weakness. I think you're quite lovely when you blush."

She smiled shyly and blushed again. He grinned and gave her a quick kiss before getting up to ready the horse. There was no denying that she leaned into him as they rode that day. He wrapped an arm around her waist and felt her sigh and relax at his touch.

Sansa made more of an effort to talk to him that day. She certainly wasn't overflowing with words but he could see that she was speaking beyond the expected courtesies. Something had changed.

"There should be a village not far from here. We'll reach it by nightfall I think." Jaime told her. "I expect the inn will be able to provide a bath for you as well as moon tea."

Sansa stiffened in her seat in front of him.

"I thought you'd be glad for a bath and a bed." He said, noticing her reaction.

"I am of course...it's just...Littlefinger made me drink so much moon tea. I hate the taste of it. I hate to even think about it."

"I'm sorry...but unless you wish to risk mothering a bastard, there is no other way…" He said sadly.

She nodded, resuming her silence. They reached the inn at nightfall as promised and ate a meal of stew and fresh bread. The maids brought a bath to their room and Sansa locked herself inside to bathe. Once she was finished and dressed she went to the table where a cup of moon tea had been left for her. She stared at the cup for some minutes, finally taking it in her hands and pouring it carefully out the open window. She put the cup back on the table and unlocked the door for Jaime. He would be waiting outside the door by then. She climbed into bed and faced away from him while he bathed. Sansa was nearly asleep when he climbed into bed next to her. She inched a little closer to him and he put his arms around her and pulled her close to him. They both fell asleep just minutes later.

They awoke the next morning still cuddled close together. Sansa smiled at finding herself still safe in Jaime's arms.

"You know, I rather like waking up with you in my arms too." He told her, guessing her thoughts.

She blushed at his words and he pulled her closer for a kiss. They made love more slowly this time, taking time to enjoy one another, to savour the process.

They took breakfast in their room that day. The innkeeper sent up a tray of food, including another cup of moon tea. Jaime was preoccupied with hunger and didn't notice the way she avoided the tea. He finished everything on his plate before she had picked through half of her own food.

"I'm still hungry. You gonna finish that?" He asked.

She suddenly had an idea. "I was going to. I'm just trying not to rush. I'm sorry. You can have it if you'd like…"

"No. I'll just run down to the kitchen."

Sansa knew he would leave to get more food if she indicated that she wanted hers. She went to the window as soon as he was gone. Biting back the guilt that filled her stomach, Sansa poured the tea to the ground for the second time. She was back in her chair, eating the rest of her food when Jaime returned.

Jaime bought more food and supplies from the inn and the pair resumed their journey later that morning. Sansa was stiff in the saddle from the moment they started off. She only relaxed a little when he moved her hair aside and kissed her neck.

He awoke to her crying sometime late that night. She had pulled out of his arms and curled up facing away from him.

"Sansa?"

She went silent.

"Did your nightmares return?" He asked, but he suspected based on her odd behaviour all day that it might be something else.

"No."

"Then what is it?"

She rolled onto her back and gazed at the starry sky. "I didn't drink the moon tea." She said so quietly he could barely hear.

"What?"

"I didn't drink the moon tea." She sobbed, "I'm sorry."

"Sansa...I know that you didn't want to be reminded of what happened in the Vale...but…"

"That wasn't the reason." She said finally meeting his eyes.

"The what in seven hells was the reason?" He asked her, confused.

"I wanted...I wanted to have a baby...to have your baby…"

He gave her an incredulous look. "I didn't take you for a woman who would want to mother a bastard or be any man's mistress. In fact I'm not even sure why you let me touch you as you do."

"Because…" Sansa sat up on her bedroll, curling up so her chin rested on her knees and she could hug her legs. "Have you thought about what will happen to me when we reach Winterfell?"

He hadn't. "I suppose the North bannerman will help you rebuild." Then it hit him. "They'll want you to marry. There will probably be a lot of competition for your hand."

"Not for my hand, for Winterfell. They'll all fight over the right to be lord of Winterfell. And since the Lord of Winterfell is warden of the North, our new Queen might just arrange the marriage herself…"

"I imagine you don't want an arranged marriage...I guess I don't understand what you do want." Jaime told her.

"Do you want to be lord of Winterfell?" She asked hesitantly.

"What? No! I don't want to be Lord of Winterfell...and you still haven't told me what you want."

"When I was a child, I only dreamed of being the Lady of some highborn Lord's castle. For a time I even wanted to be Queen. I believed all the songs, I believed that everything about knights and maidens and love and chivalry was all true." She stopped to wipe away her tears. "But I stopped hoping for those things a long time ago. Now I only wish for kindness and safety. You have given me both of those things freely...and you didn't do it just for a chance at Winterfell...so I can't...I can't lose you."

Jaime sat up and put an arm around her shoulders. "You thought that a pregnancy would lessen the number of marriage offers and would keep me close by to be near the child." He said without judgement.

She nodded. "And I thought I would be safer for it. Most of the northmen won't hurt me because I am a Stark and southerners might hesitate to harm me if I meant something to you... I can't imagine either side would harm the child...but it doesn't matter now...it isn't too late to drink the tea and forget this ever happened."

"Sansa." He touched her face, trying to distract her from the sobs that wracked her body. "Sansa, you needn't drink the tea if you don't want to."

She glanced up at him. "You mean that?"

"Every word. I only ask that if there is a child, the parentage won't be kept secret. I can't stand by and watch another man raise my children again. I want the child to call me father." He said, surprised at himself for revealing this to her.

"No secrets. I'm terrible at keeping secrets anyway."

By the time they reached Winterfell a couple months later, Sansa's belly was just beginning to show signs of pregnancy. The castle was nearly a ruin. They found one chamber that was mostly intact and made it their shelter for the first night.

"Will you call your bannermen tomorrow?" Jaime asked her as they cuddled close to sleep.

"I suppose I'll have to." She sighed.

She fell asleep soon after and Jaime watched her with a sense of deep sadness as she slept. He couldn't deny that he cared for her, maybe even loved her. She would very likely be marrying soon and at worst she would send him away, at best he would have to share her with another man. He hated both options. He'd been forced to share Cersei with Robert. He wasn't sure he could do so again with Sansa. They hadn't discussed what would happen between them when she eventually did marry. He supposed that neither of them had wanted to face it. Now they would be facing it all too soon.

Sansa awoke to Jaime's soft kisses on her neck and shoulders. It was early morning and she knew without asking that something was upsetting him. He was seeking comfort from her. She gave it to him willingly.

"Something saddens you." She said as she lay naked in his arms afterword.

He nodded. "As you said before, your bannermen will want to see you married. I don't like the thought of giving you up to your husband...or of sharing you…"

"I don't like it either." She said sadly.

"Sansa...I love you...you must know that…"

Her eyes filled with tears. "No one has said those words to me in more than six years...I love you too…"

"I would ask you to marry me but I know your bannermen wouldn't tolerate it. You'd lose your home if we were to marry and I won't force you to make such a choice. Not when I can't even offer you Casterly Rock… it belongs to Tyrion...do whatever you must to keep your home."

They held each other close and wept in silence before finally getting up to face the day. The first of the bannermen began to arrive just after the noon meal. The Stark banner had been raised over the tower and without birds to send out, it might be a few days before the rest of the bannermen arrived. Those who made it by nightfall set up tents and prepared to wait for the rest to arrive for a formal meeting.

A week later, Sansa gathered the group in the great hall.

"I expect by now that you all know who I am." She began from what had once been her father's seat. "I am Sansa Stark, daughter of Eddard and Catlyn Stark and am the heir to Winterfell. Do any of you remember me, or is there some question as to my identity?"

"I remember you my Lady." Someone spoke up from the crowd. "You were but a child of ten when I last saw you but I've no doubt that you are Ned Stark's daughter."

There was a mummer of consensus among them as they all agreed to her identity.

"Then I ask you, will you swear allegiance to house Stark once again and help me rebuild these walls?" She asked them.

"Begging your pardon my lady, but before we swear any oaths, there are a few things we must know." Said one of the Umbers.

"Alright then. What do you wish to know?" She asked, though she could already guess the answer.

"Rumor has it, that you are with child…" He began uncomfortably.

"It is true. I am with child." She confirmed it boldly.

"And the father of your child is Ser Jaime Lannister?"

"That is true as well." Sansa told them, her tone unashamed.

The men began to speak among themselves again. There was a tone of anger and worry though she could not make out their words. Half a minute passed before the Umber spokesman came forward again.

"My lady, if Lannister has forced a child on you, you need only ask and we will send him away. But if you have consented to this and he is to be lord of Winterfell, we can not swear any oaths to him. Our liege lord must be a man that we can trust."

Sansa stood. "There will be no lord of Winterfell, only a lady of Winterfell. I will not marry. I will remain a Stark for the rest of my days and my first son will be named Stark as well. Ser Jaime will remain here but not as lord. You needn't take any orders from him, only from me. Will that suit you?"

Jaime had not expected her to say any of this and apparently neither had her bannermen. They were speaking amongst themselves, apparently finding flaws with her plan.

"And what if by chance you should die my lady, before your heir comes of age?" One of them asked.

"Then I will appoint a guardian to run the household in my stead."

"Are you content Ser Jaime, to let your mistress be the lady of the house and never be the lord?" One of them shouted, mockingly.

Sansa glanced at him, slightly worried that he would take insult.

He shrugged. "I never planned to be a lord anyway...but if the day should come that anyone should try to breach these walls, I would fight alongside you to defend the home of the woman I love. I have no wish to be your lord. Winterfell belongs to Sansa."

They seemed to realize that he spoke the truth. Kingsgaurd owned no lands and Jaime had been in the guard since he was very young. The new queen had released him from his vows and appointed his brother lord of the Lannister lands, banishing Jaime from the capital in the process. He truly had no where else to go if not with Sansa.

"It is decided then, we will swear to allegiance to you Lady Stark."

Four days later a bird arrived from Casterly Rock

Dearest Brother,

I am unsure whether I should believe these rumors that have reached the south. It is said that Lady Sansa Stark is to have your child and that she is keeping you as her lover at Winterfell. It seems quite absurd to imagine this of the Sansa I once knew. Some of things that have been said about the both of you have not been kind. Please tell me the truth of the matter so that I know what to say to those that speak ill.

Best Wishes

Tyrion

Jaime shook his head. He could easily imagine what the common folk had to say. It didn't bother him much. They had been calling him kingslayer for most of his life after all. He took out a quill and began a reply to his brother.

To Tyrion:

Most of the rumors you have heard are true. As much as I love Sansa, I could not marry her without causing her the loss of Winterfell. Her bannermen would not have it. She loves me for some inexplicable arrangement was her idea. I think it suits us both well. She did not want another arranged marriage or to be placed under the rule of any man. And I would rather my children were named Snow than to have them never know their true father at all. To be truthful, we are both quite happy with the way things are. Let the people say whatever ill they wish of us. It matters not.

Your Brother

Jaime