"Would you bear with me for a moment?" A wide-eyed Jaime managed to ask in a steady voice, as he gently tugged Sansa into the room and closed the door behind the woman.
The redhead raised an eyebrow, while watching Jaime's hands move to latch the door shut, but as she turned back she gasped when she realized how close his lips were to her own. She could tell that the Lannister was waiting for her and she didn't make him wait long.
To say that the first time their lips touched was heavenly would be an understatement. Sansa forgot why she came to his room. All that existed was the electricity surging between the two of them. The woman seemed to entirely forget all her lessons about decorum when she was around the Kingsguard and this was no exception. Sansa greedily pushed herself into his body and moaned, marvelling at how perfectly his frame enveloped her own. The Stark allowed her hands to explore Jaime's scalp and tug at his blonde mane, while his own desperately wandered over her back.
Unfortunately, humans are still beholden to the act of breathing, so the two of them broke apart. Their lips parted, but Sansa relaxed against the frame of the door and continued to hold the knight against herself. Jaime rested his forehead against her own and the two shared with one another a content smile.
"I apologize," Jaime began, but the joy in his eyes and upturned lips immediately gave him away, "I don't mean to offend the sensibilities of a maiden."
The blush came, as it always did when the Lannister teased her, but Sansa was ready to counterattack, "Oh, Ser Jaime, you don't need to worry about that."
A brief flash of confusion spread over Jaime's face, but Sansa didn't leave him in suspense for long, as she leaned in to whisper in his ear, "I'm no maiden."
The Lannister knight was simultaneously aroused and shocked by the darring grin his Northern Queen sent him after that confession. Inwardly, Sansa was slightly worried that his affections for her would halt after this admission, but the Lannister proved her wrong when he also leaned in to whisper, "Then that makes two of us."
The two lost themselves in a small fit of laughter as they held onto each other for support. Sansa looked up at the older man and allowed herself one more passionate kiss. They took their time during this second embrace. Bodies were still flush together, but Jaime placed a hand on her cheek to deepen the kiss and Sasna kept her hands firmly on his back. They channeled all of their anxiety, relief, and excitement through their lips and felt intoxicated by the exchanging of such raw emotion.
Painfully realizing that it had been far longer than a moment, Jaime disentangled himself from the younger woman and walked to the end table beside his bed. After pouring both of them a generous glass of wine, the Lannister moved back to the Stark and took her hand. The two sat in wooden chairs before the fire; Jaime kept hold of Sansa's hand as they relaxed into their seats and sipped at their wine.
Jaime took a second to smack his lips after his first sip and turned toward Sansa with a knee shaking smile, "So we were talking about marriage?"
Sansa fought off a laugh at his nonchalant attitude and hoped that the future would allow the two of them to spend many nights like this together. The Stark woman played along and nodded at his question, "Yes, I think we'd make quite the match."
"I'm sold." Jaime plainly announced, as he leaned over to clink their glasses and give her hand a small kiss.
Absolutely bewildered, Sansa leaned in to confirm his statement, "You're sold?"
Jaime continued with the short replies, "Completely."
"You want to marry me?" Sansa further inquired.
Jaime met her gaze this time, "I don't think I've ever wanted anything more."
"But we've barely known each other for a month!" Sansa exclaimed, even as her heart swooned at the knight's declaration, "How can you feel so confidently about this?"
"Because I feel as if I'm getting the better deal out of this relationship." Jaime bluntly stated and continued before Sansa could retort, "I'm sure you have your reasons that aren't entirely romantic for wanting us to marry, which I do wish to hear from you; however, I'm benefitting far more from this match than you possibly could."
"How?" Was all Sansa could gasp, as the man's warm eyes comforted her more than any Northern hearth ever had.
"This." Jaime emphasized by squeezing the woman's hand, before continuing, "I have felt lost for years. Almost as if I were adrift at sea with no destination in sight. Even when I took the steps to bring my destiny back under control once more, I still had no idea what I really wanted out of the world."
The Lannister placed his cup of wine back down on the ground, so he could wrap both of his hands around Sansa's, "That confusion and fear disappears when I stand by you. Your very presence has encouraged me to dedicate myself to noble causes that my childhood self would cheer for. I've come to realize that I'll be able to find my place in this world and be truly happy with it, if I have you by my side."
Somewhere within that declaration, Sansa began to shed tears. The redhead rose from her seat, hands still connected with the Lannister and wine forgotten, so she could climb onto the man's lap. Jaime happily wrapped his arms around her, as he felt the woman's tears against his face when she gave him a tender kiss.
"I'll always consider myself lucky to have someone like you at my side." Jaime promised and Sansa's tears continued to fall into her smile.
The Lannister knight refused to stop his affections, which placed Sansa's heart at the very dangerous risk of spontaneously combusting.
"Gods, all I could see when I first entered Winterfell was this Northern beauty." Jaime began to whisper to the redhead. The Kingsguard began to punctuate every compliment with a small kiss.
"Your glorious hair." The touch of lips on her forehead.
"These wondrous eyes." Two pecks that captured some of her falling tears.
"These full lips that bewitch me with every sentence." A longer kiss with a slight nibble on her lower lip.
Jaime leaned back to stare into her eyes and rest his forehead against her own, before continuing, "Your body may be the most captivating thing I have ever laid eyes on. And I pray that I can spend the rest of my life discovering its many mysteries."
Even when making her melt and weep from unbridled passion, Jaime Lannister was still able to make the Stark woman roar with laughter.
"Then I really got to know you," Jaime began again with his voice devoid of humor and resonating what Sansa knew to be love, "and I knew that I was really screwed. I've fallen for you, my beautiful Queen."
Sansa gasped and Jaime relentlessly further explained, "The way you carry yourself is awe inspiring. Your family has faced a series of horrible challenges, yet you keep your head held high and exude strength when no one else will. Your mind is sharper than any whip and I absolutely adore watching you tear down foolish old men. I can't imagine there's anyone in the world more arousing than you."
The Stark girl gasped when she realized that she could clearly feel the depth of Jaime's arousal. It was exhilarating. Knowing that she inspired such devotion and lust from a man as powerful as him. Unable to take it anymore, Sansa forcefully caught Jaime's lips with her own and moaned into the embrace. The Lannister could feel her long locks of hair fall around him and relished in the feeling.
A minute passed before Sansa finally relented and pulled away to look down at the most handsome man she had ever met.
"You're mine." Sansa declared with absolute conviction that led to a noticeable spike in Jaime's arousal.
"I'm yours." Jaime promised without missing a beat.
"I don't think there are words to truly express the extent of my affection for you." Sansa admitted, as she gazed at the Lannister with the most lovely of smiles, and she then vowed, "But I will never stop trying."
"And I eagerly await every attempt." Jaime happily replied, as he pulled the woman down to rest her head on his chest.
Sansa breathed in his scent and relaxed briefly, before asking, "Can I tell you my political reasons?"
"Please do." Jaime encouraged, as he stroked her beautiful hair that so thoroughly enraptured him.
The woman happily rubbed her head into his chest at the touch and began, "The status of my family is in jeopardy. Our patriarch has been called away to serve in the South and our matriarch is barely able to feed herself."
Jaime's heart broke for the young woman that so plainly explained the seeming loss of her parents. He continued his stroking, as she went on, "Robb has had both his reputation and body injured from this conflict. He'll recover from both, but it will take time."
The Lannister nodded at her reasoning. Robb would undoubtedly be changed by the loss of his right eye; however, the Northern nobility would scrutinize him even further after this less than desirable series of events. Jaime believed the young lord could rise to the occasion, but it would be a difficult venture to undertake.
"Arya is an even more complicated problem. I honestly don't know what to do with her." Sansa confided, as she used her finger to draw circles in Jaime's large shoulder, "I had Maester Luwin check to see if she had been… assaulted. The Maester doesn't believe she was harmed, but we won't know until she wakes up. Yet, even if she hasn't, she'll still be a pariah among Northern nobility."
Jaime knew where this was going and finished Sansa's train of thought, "Even if she hasn't been touched," The Lannister knight said the word with disdain as he abhorred any monster that would harm another human in such a way, "there will always be rumors to the contrary. And killing the noble will be an additional stigma she'll have to carry."
Sansa nodded and gave out a hollow laugh, "It's ridiculous. Any man would be congratulated for the act. You or Robb would have men making toasts in your honor for killing someone so devoid of nobility; however, a woman doing the act is seen as unnatural."
The Lannister sighed and nodded his agreement that the view towards women was so ridiculous; however, an earlier daydream crossed his mind once again.
"Dear Queen?" Jaime premised, and despite the depressing topic, Sansa smiled for his response, "What if we brought her into our household?"
Sansa tried to ignore her heart doing flips at his mentioning of "our household" and pressed him to explain further "How do you mean?"
"It's not uncommon for noble families to send children to another keep for fostering." Jaime pointed out with a slight grin.
Sansa's brow furrowed, "Arya is well past her sixteenth nameday, that's a little old for fostering."
The Lannister chuckled and squeezed his new fiance, "Exceptions can be made. Besides, my brother is dead set on having your Jon Snow become his sworn shield. Taking another Stark child would further emphasize the alliance between our houses. And she might find herself a noble husband in the West like her sister, or…"
The elder Stark daughter narrowed her eyes, as she was able to see right through the Lannister, "Or you can teach her how to hold a sword and make her a knight."
Jaime laughed at Sansa's accurate assumption and admitted, "It would be quite a sight, wouldn't it? A direwolf of Winterfell being trained by the lions of Casterly Rock? The first female knight in the history of Westeros being another example of the union between our families?"
Still not thrilled with her sister's fascination for martial pursuits, Sansa rolled her eyes and begrudgingly considered Jaime's reasoning. Although, the golden knight truly had her when he leaned into counsel in a serious voice, "This might be something she needs, Sansa. We can never fully understand the trauma she has endured. She should be given a fresh start that gives her more control of her own life."
Sansa turned to look into the kind eyes of the woman she so badly desired to be her husband and felt her affection soar even higher at the care he showed her sister.
"We'll take care of her?" Sansa ensured, as she placed a hand on the older man's cheek.
Jaime kissed the tip of her fingers and his smile was all the answer she needed.
"You hit the nail on the head, Ser Jaime." Sansa admitted, "The best option for my family to survive this situation is to tie ourselves to yours."
"You could marry into another prominent Northern family?" Jaime offered, but he knew she wouldn't have brought up the idea without considering all possibilities, "The Manderlys or the Glovers could be good choices. That would help stabilize things. Your father's vassals might not take too kindly to you marrying the Kingslayer."
The knight nearly flinched at the touch of anger in Sansa's response, "Don't ever deride yourself, Jaime. You are one of the greatest men I know and I won't stand for anyone not treating you as such, even yourself."
Jaime could only stare in amazement and nod at her command, which he was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek and Sansa addressing his earlier point, "They'll want their daughters to marry Robb. He's the heir of House Stark. If he married outside of the Northern families, then we would have trouble. Rickon will likely also be used as a stud for the Northern nobility."
Ah, the subject of children. That made the Lannister feel a cold sweat come on, as he considered whether to bring up the problematic history with his twin. If this had been the Jaime from a couple years ago or even a month ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of sharing such a potentially fatal secret. Yet, Jaime couldn't imagine misleading or omitting the truth from the woman in his arms.
Sansa seemed to notice her knight tensing, as she asked, "What's wrong, lion?"
The Lannister smacked his lips together and Sansa could feel the heavy thumping of his heart, as he prepared himself.
"I need to be honest with you, dear Queen of mine." Jaime began, "The royal children are-"
"The result of an affair you've had with your sister." Sansa finished, as a gaping Jaime Lannister looked at her with complete surprise.
"What, I mean, how?" Was all the Kingsguard managed to sputter.
"It wasn't that hard to put together, Jaime." Sansa admitted with a voice surprisingly gentle for knowingly sitting in the lap of a man who commited multiple acts of incest and treason, "Southern gossip does eventually make its way to the North, especially when there is a royal procession traveling to Winterfell. Also, I only interacted with Tommen briefly, but he is your spitting image. But what really gave it away is your reaction right now."
Jaime looked terrified, which prompted Sansa to place her delicate hand on his cheek once more and give him a small kiss.
"How can you stand to look at me?" The Lannister implored of the younger woman.
Sansa leaned back into his embrace as she answered him, "You never once looked at Cersei during your stay here. I often had my eye on you and whenever she would attempt an approach, you would walk in the opposite direction. It almost seemed like you disdained her. Plus, the way you have quite literally swept me off my feet doesn't hurt."
Letting out a shallow laugh, Jaime quipped, "It seems I'm lucky that you can't take your eyes off of me."
"That would take an act of strength and endurance that no one is capable of performing." Sansa teased back, but her small smile turned serious when she added, "Jaime, I don't think I could share you with anyone."
"You'll never have to." Jaime promised, as he delivered a small kiss on her forehead.
She hesitated slightly before bringing up her next topic, but Sansa knew that it should be stated sooner rather than later, "Tommen and Myrcella seem like wonderful children, but I'm worried about Joffrey."
The woman could see the pain in Jaime's eyes when he nodded, "There is a horrifying amount of cruelty in that boy."
"We'll need to watch him." Sansa gently reminded the knight who agreed with a somber smile.
The two spent a few more minutes lounging in the chair together when Sansa laughed a little, "Well, now that's everything settled. Arya, Jon, and I will return South with you to the capitol. You'll be removed from the Kingsguard and we'll marry at the Rock."
"I think you're forgetting a few steps." Jaime teased, as he planted a kiss on the top of her head, "We'll still need to convince your father."
Sansa chuckled, "I'm not looking forward to that negotiation, but I'm confident he'll agree with me after some wrangling. Honestly, I'm more worried about how your father will react."
Jaime paled considerably and his eyes went wide.
'Shit.'
(-)
Tyrion was enjoying a delectable morning meal of black bacon and soft cheese on toast when his older brother burst into his private chambers.
"Gods, are we under attack again?" Tyrion half jokingly asked with a mouthful of food, as he saw the clearly agitated state of his brother.
The older Lannister threw himself into the chair besides Tyrions at the small wooden table and helped himself to his brother's meal. Tyrion sighed, while he watched his older brother scarf down his bacon and chug delicious cider.
Knowing that there was no use helping his brother in this state, Tyrion leaned back and pitifully licked the few crumbs left on his fingers. The younger Lannister brother grew slightly worried, as he hadn't seen his brother in such a manic state, since Jaime realized the gravity of Cersei's constant infidelity. Or perhaps, unfaithfulness. They were never wed, thank the Seven or whatever deities that gave his brother some sense, so unfaithful would likely be a more apt word to describe her betrayal.
The younger brother was considering calling for another plate of food when his golden brother finally spoke up, "I am betrothed."
Not even a second passed, before Tyrion asked, "Does Father know?"
And that was the problem right there. When hearing news of his brother committing himself to another human, the first thing Tyrion thought of was their Father's approval.
"Not yet." Jaime admitted with a small grimace that expressed his apprehension.
Tyrion let out a breath and a low chuckle. He would not describe the Old Lion as a particularly affectionate parent, but the man certainly took a very active interest in the life of his children. Micromanager would be an understatement to describe the assertive Tywin Lannister and he has always held his heir above all others in that regard. The idea of Jaime finding a bride without Father's explicit consent… that sent a few chills up Tyrion's spine.
"Please tell me that she's of noble blood." Tyrion begged, not able to imagine what their Father would do if Jaime eloped with a commoner.
Even in his barely concealed hysteria, Jaime developed a small smirk at the thought of his Northern Queen, "Some of the oldest and most noble blood in the Seven Kingdoms."
Tyrion was the furthest thing form stupid and thankfully, he was not blind. It barely took a second for the younger brother to make the connection.
"By the Seven, you're marrying Sansa Stark!"
Slightly shaking with fear and excitement, Jaime revealed an idiotic grin that should belong to a teenage boy and not a man that just entered his thirties. The Lannister knight put a hand through his hair and proudly announced, "She approached me to make the proposal."
If Tyrion had not been already sitting, he would have collapsed to the ground in a dizzied state. His older brother, his constant protector and champion in all matters, was grinning like a lovesick puppy over the eldest daughter of Eddard Stark.
"Her father is going to kill you and castrate you, I'm not sure in what order." Tyrion only slightly japed, as his mind raced over the implications of this match.
Jaime was used to his brother's stoic thinking face and gave the younger Lannister some time to consider the situation. It was a few moments before Tyrion left his concentration and addressed his brother, "If done properly, this could have the makings of an incredibly successful joint dynasty between the Lannisters and the Starks."
"It will." Jaime affirmed with a pleased sigh. The Lannister knight may not be as competent in the scholarly arts as his brother, but he was the son of Tywin Lannister and received the best tutelage the world had to offer; however, it was reassuring to hear his brother confirm Jaime's hopes for the match.
"We only need to find a way to ensure that Father agrees with the notion." Jaime insisted, as his eyes implored his younger brother for help, which Tyrion was all too happy to give.
"He'll agree." Tyrion stated without a second though, his confident voice further comforting his brother, "He'll just be upset that you did not confer with him or seek his approval before beginning the courtship."
Gods, Jaime nearly blushed as he recalled memories of how they advanced their courtship last night before Sansa had to return to her own chambers.
"Then I'm forced to endure a serious lecture and months of retribution?" The older brother asked, as if he was already committing himself to the penalty.
Tyrion shook his head slightly, "There will likely be no escaping a lecture, but you could lessen his ire by proving that you've thought out the benefits of this partnership and build the groundwork to reap the rewards."
"The close relationship between our regions will provide new opportunities beyond giving Father his precious grandchildren." Jaime momentarily had a dazed look as he thought about having children he could call his own, but shelved that thought for a future conversation with Sansa, before continuing, "What can the North offer the West that we don't already have?"
Tyrion snorted, as if the answer was obvious, "Resources. The North is huge. Whether it be timber, stone, furs, or even undiscovered ore deposits. Although, Father may be uncomfortable with other nobles having access to precious ore. Regardless, we have the gold and the infrastructure to cultivate these assets."
"You would have us build a trading network?" Jaime inquired, believing he understood where his brother was going with this explanation.
"Yes!" Tyrion affirmed and scattered over to a drawer to pull out paper and an inkwell. Jaime watched as his younger brother set the map down on the table and drew a very crude imitation of Westeros.
Jaime snorted, "To think, Father put you in charge of sanitation when you could have been a world renowned artist."
The younger brother did not vocally respond to the joke, but he did flick a bit of ink from his quill towards Jaime.
"Look here." Tyrion commanded, as he pointed out the Western border of Westeros, before beginning his own lecture, "As idiots love to say, we have no idea what is West of Westeros. Lannisport is one of the largest cities in the Seven Kingdoms, only falling behind Old Town and Kings Landing, but our partners at sea are rather limited.
Jaime nodded in understanding, "We've always had strong shipping lines with the Reach and some contact with Dorne."
Tyrion then gestured back to the large borders of the North that made up a third of all of Westeros, and continued, "Most of the trading in the North comes from their only city, White Harbor. Lord Manderly's ancestors placed themselves in the perfect position to trade with the Vale, Kings Landing, and even Essos. A voyage at sea from White Harbor to Lannisport would take even longer than escorting goods on foot; however, a port on the Western border would open up the treasures of the North for Casterly Rock."
"We would also be the obvious stop between the North and the Reach." The older brother noted.
"Yes," Tyrion happily agreed, "which gives us the ability to tax the shit out of these Southern and Northern lords."
"So we fund a port along the Western border." Jaime traced the Tyrion's crude drawing, as he tried to remember what Northern houses were situated in that area, "Perhaps, Lord Ryswell would be interested?"
"Potentially," Tyrion admitted, but it was clear he had another idea, "I'll give it some more thought and we should confer with your clever wife to be on this matter."
Jaime smiled, "She'll love the idea."
"We'll need to develop a stronger navy to protect our shipping lanes from the Iron Islanders, but I heard whispers that Father has some scheme in mind for them already." Tyrion further pondered, before shaking his head and turning back to his brother, "Yet, that can wait for another time. Let's draft your message to our sire."
The Lannister brothers shared a devious grin and the elder remarked, "What would I do without you, dear brother?"
The younger merely shrugged, "Fall on your ass, most likely."
(-)
The door to Bran Stark's solemn bedroom opened gently as Sansa tiptoed her way inside. Bran, the adorable and willful boy that Sansa adored, was still sickly pale and unconscious within his bed. The Stark daughter tried not to look at the blanket hiding his maimed legs, but her mind seemed to automatically replace the fine fur with the horrible memory of his disfigured limbs.
The rest of the room wasn't welcoming either. Drapes were drawn tightly closed over the windows and a silent creature sat lifelessly at the foot of the bed. Gods, Catelyn Stark looked like hell. The once vibrant autumn hair of her mother sat in a lifeless braid that looked as coarse as rope. The strong facial features that once gave her mother such a fierce countenance now stuck out so prominently that she appeared skeletal. And those empty eyes were focused on the criplled child, but she seemed to stare right through him.
Sansa didn't bother greeting her mother. It was painful, but the woman hadn't said a word to any of her conscious children in a month. The eldest Stark daughter felt as if she were conversing with a statue when talking to her mother; however, statues were usually carved to depict a moving image. Ironically, a statue might be full of more life than Catelyn Stark.
The redhead walked to her brother's side, and as she had every morning, gave the broken child a small kiss on the forehead and prepared to tell him a story of their childhood. Unfortunately, Sansa didn't get to whisper a childhood memory this morning, as her mother interrupted her.
"Sansa." Said girl nearly jumped at the sound of her mother's voice. The melodic tone that held compassion and disapproval in equal measure was gone, what remained was the raspy groaning of underused vocal chords.
Still, Sansa nearly bawled at the sound. There was once more some life in the body of Catelyn Stark. Pushing aside a runaway tear, the daughter asked, "Yes, mother?"
"Tell me, when did I raise a whore?" Catelyn asked the room.
She shouldn't have gotten her hopes up. The small light that returned to her mother's eyes was absent of love and only held disdain. Sansa had witnessed this manner of body language from her mother before, it only led to a strict scolding, yet the fury present was like nothing she had ever before witnessed from the woman who gave birth to her.
Sansa could only gape, "What do you mean, mother?"
Catelyn still wouldn't look to her daughter as she explained in that horrendous voice, "I am not dead. I hear the servants whispering. Gossiping about my eldest daughter visiting the chambers of the Kingslayer at all hours of the night."
The redhead was stunned and couldn't form a reply, so the older woman continued, "What was it? Did the idea of limitless gold and Southern pageantry seduce you? Or have you always been a tart that's ready to spread her legs for whatever fool that comes along with an easy smile?"
She should not have insulted Jaime. Sansa would have suffered her mother's cruelties and attempted to defuse the situation, but insulting such an honorable man that put himself at risk for their House and rescued her siblings? Catelyn had made a mistake.
"You are weak." Sansa uttered, which earned the glare of Catelyn Stark's bloodshot eyes.
The wrinkles around the matriarch's mouth tensed to spit out a reply, but Sansa cut her off, "Look at yourself. Lazing about in your own filth. You've experienced a terrible burden for a parent, yet you've let it destroy you."
It was now Catelyn Stark that was at a loss for words, as Sansa approached her and didn't let up, "How many times have I begged you to look at or whisper a sweet word to your youngest, Rickon? Why didn't you react or call for action when you were told that your youngest daughter has been kidnapped? Do you even care that Robb lost his right eye fighting to get her back?"
"Family. Duty. Honor." Sansa leaned down to whisper in her mother's ear, "You've failed in regards to all three of them. But why don't you just continue to sit here and stare at nothing. I'll continue managing our House by myself and ensure that your inactivity doesn't lead to our destruction."
Sansa began to walk towards the door, head held high and posture unwavering.
"Daughter." A painful yelp crawled out of Catelyn's throat.
The redhead nearly broke at that, but she would not let herself be walked over by a woman who had so easily given up in the face of adversity.
"Only by blood." Sansa responded without looking back, "From this point on you are only the woman that gave birth to 've failed at completing the bare minimum of your duties to your children and House Stark. You may as well continue wasting away your days in this room and become a permanent fixture among the furniture."
Sansa opened the door, but turned back to look at the stricken face of Catelyn, "I can promise you this, mother. I won't fail where you have. I won't let my pain allow me to neglect those that depend on me."
"You will not be expected at my wedding." And Sansa closed the door.
(-)
She did not cry. When she basically removed her mother from her life, Sansa Stark did not cry after the decision. Maybe she was too excited to properly understand the circumstances of what she had done and the tears would come later? Or, maybe she had been silently preparing for this moment after a month of negligence and the tears would never come?
Regardless, of the reason, Sansa went to her brother's room after disowning the woman that gave birth to them. It wasn't necessarily for comfort, more so justification. Sansa gazed down at the unconscious form of her brother. Maester Luwin wanted to keep the young lord asleep until he was certain that there would be as little pain as possible.
Sansa needed to reassure herself that she would not make the same cruel mistakes as her mother. The woman slightly marveled at the clean white cloth wrapped around the hole where her brother's right eyes used to reside. When they brought him in that night, crude rags had been tied around his head and blood was pouring out from beneath them. Even though he had gone unconscious from the blood loss, Robb still groaned from the dreadful pain that must have dominated his senses.
She may have to leave soon, but Sansa would never abandon her family. Robb would always be within her thoughts and he would always have her support. Sansa would not become her mother.
For the second time in an hour, Sansa nearly jumped and shrieked at an unexpected noise. This time, it was the door opening to reveal a severely weathered man. What were once fine riding leathers and furs now appeared torn and stained from top to bottom. The smell radiating off him was noxious and would only be removed by a thorough cleaning of the skin and the burning of the clothes.
Yet, Sansa did not care as she jumped into his open arms, this was her father.
"Oh, sweet girl." Ned immediately soothed his daughter, "I can't apologize enough for what you must have endured."
Now, Sansa felt tears threaten to spill. This is how a parent should behave when their children are in jeopardy. The lousy clothes and hygiene were proof of Ned's self sacrifice. How their father had immediately departed from whatever Keep he heard the news in to make North with all haste. Sansa didn't even mind the irritating bristles from his beard that scratched her neck when he held her close, it was a reminder of his devotion.
Ned planted a kiss on his daughter's forehead, before letting out a small groan of anguish at the sight of his son. The father staggered forward and held his son's hand in his own, "It was the Wildlings that did this?"
Sansa sat on the other side of Robb's bed and prepared herself for a long conversation. The redhead began, "They are partially responsible. There was a conspiracy orchestrated by Torrhen Karstark that involved the Wildlings and the Second Sons."
"Gods." Ned clearly regretted his decision to leave the North, "We've lost so much in such a short time."
Sansa couldn't help herself, she responded, "You've gained a son."
"Tell me everything." Ned commanded, and Sansa started from the day he left.
(-)
Ravens sent and younger brother left to his scheming, Jaime had another important meeting to attend. Strolling through the castle with an easy grin and cheery whistle, it wasn't long before Jaime arrived at his destination. Still holding a long cloth covered bundle in one hand, Jaime gave the wooden door a swift knock and entered before there was any response.
"Get out!" Arya Stark screamed, as soon as the door fully opened.
Jaime paid the girl no mind and closed the door behind him. Arya scowled at the man from her bed, as she watched Jaime move to the shuttered windows and open them to let in a torrent of sunlight.
"Much better." The knight remarked, before moving over to the Stark daughter's dresser and began opening random drawers.
Feeling her rage grow at being ignored and having her privacy invaded, Arya yelled, "Hey!"
Still, Jaime didn't respond to her protests and merely threw a plain shirt and set of trousers at the teenage girl lying under her covers.
"It's time you got some fresh air." Jaime announced, while Arya looked down at the offered clothes with disdain.
The younger Stark daughter gave him a most eloquent reply, "Go fuck yourself, Lannister."
The Kingslayer sighed when the girl threw her head under the covers. Dragging a wooden chair to the side of her bed, Jaime made himself comfortable. Several minutes passed with Jaime nonchalantly whistling in the chair and Arya remaining under the covers.
It was after Jaime's third rendition of the Rains of Castamere that Arya finally threw off the covers and demanded, "What the hell do you want?"
"Truly?" Jaime asked, and elaborated before Arya could give an answer, "They make this amazing shrimp cocktail in Lannisport that I haven't tasted in years. It'll still probably be a few months before I get to partake once more, but in the meantime I'll settle for you talking to me."
Arya scoffed, "What's there to talk about?"
The knight leaned back and irritatingly began to make a list, "Well there's the weather, our favorite philosophers, the best breed of horses, your kidnapping, or whether Dornish Red is superior to Arbour Gold."
"Arbour Gold is divine. Dornish Red is piss." Arya muttered, "Happy? Could you act like the red wine now and piss off?"
Jaime shook his head, "Not that easily I'm afraid. You've forgotten that I've played guard to two kings for fifteen years, my patience is tragically well honed."
"Stubbornness more like." Arya grunted. She was growing more and more pissed that Jaime had a kind smile plastered on his face throughout this entire conversation.
The girl began to snarl, "Why are you smiling?"
That only increased the size of the knight's grin and the depths of Arya's ire. Jaime took his time to respond, "I've received the most wonderful offer last night. I confess that I haven't felt this happy in quite some time, perhaps ever."
"Then why have you come here?" The still distrustful girl questioned.
"Because I want to share my joy in the company of those I like." Was Jaime's simple explanation.
Arya let out a self-deprecating laugh, "Those you like? You must have gotten lost."
"Why would that be?" The Lannister innocently questioned.
Arya snapped, "There is nothing to like about me! Not after what I've done!"
The knight's smile vanished and he leaned in, "What you've done? Did you invite the Wildlings over the Wall?"
"No."
"Did you contract the Second Sons to attack your homeland?"
"No."
"Did you blind your brother?"
"No!"
"Then I'm at a loss." Jaime mockingly confessed and moved a hand through his hair, "What could you have done that would lead to this outcome?"
"He did it for me!" Arya screamed back and slammed her fists on the bedding, "How many people died because Torrhen and I wanted to run away together?"
"You're blaming yourself for the actions of another person." The Lannister droned out and made sure that his tone indicated how stupid of a sentiment that is.
Arya gritted her teeth and Jaime thought that she might lunge at him, but the girl seemed to deflate after a moment. The Stark sunk back onto her pillow and desperately clutched her head.
"I won't pretend to understand what you're going through, little wolf." Jaime uttered in the same soothing voice that he had used on a young Tyrion, "But I understand pain and regret to a great degree."
Slowly Arya removed her hands and looked at the Kingslayer, as he continued, "For a long time it will be the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about before you fall asleep. At times you may think that it will drive you mad. I certainly did. But, eventually, it will be the second thing that greets you in the morning. Over time it could turn into the third or even fourth thing that you dwell on before sleeping. If you're lucky, you could go entire days or weeks without it even entering your mind."
Arya was fully entranced to Jaime's soft yet steady voice, and she didn't flinch when he leaned in to offer more counsel, "But you will never forget. And you shouldn't. Do you know why?"
The girl shook her head and her eyes pleaded for an answer.
"Because even though it is not your fault, you must strive to make sure that it never happens again. You were powerless now, but in the future you could stop it or lessen its effects. You may still fail, but you will fail knowing that you tried."
"Why tell me this?" The Stark girl asked, as her mind poured over the knight's advice.
Jaime gave her that same small smile, and unwrapped the bindle to show her Needle. As Arya took a tentative grasp of the sword, Jaime gave her an answer, "Because I want to help do just that. I want to give you the ability to try."
The girl swallowed and questioned, "How?"
"I'd like you to come with me to Casterly Rock." The Lannister explained, "There I can teach you everything I know about the sword. You could enter my service as a warrior or become a noble woman in the Western court. One day you could marry a Western noble or be rewarded your own lands and title for your service. Your path should be yours to decide."
Arya was quiet for a few moments, before she nodded her head, "I think I'd like being able to decide my path."
"Good." Jaime encouraged her with a gentle smile, before leaning in to whisper mischievously, "Because I'll need all the help I can get convincing your father."
That actually got the girl to laugh and Jaime gleefully joined her.
(-)
"Lannister." Jaime had nearly shit himself when he heard that deep Northern baritone that could only belong to one man.
The knight had just left Arya's chamber after hours of sharing stories about the Kingsguard with a promise that they would practice her swordfighting the next day when he was ambushed.
The blonde Southerner hid his taking a deep breath and turned to face the father of the woman he would marry.
"Lord Stark." Gods, Jaime was tempted to address him as 'Good Father,' but the severe look on the older man's face cautioned him against that tactic.
Ned didn't break eye contact as he approached the taller man and Jaime was slightly reminded of his own father in that moment.
Face to face, Lord Stark commanded, "Walk with me, Kingslayer."
Jaime motioned with one arm that his host should take the lead and fell in step with the Lord Paramount of the North. It was unsettlingly quiet as they walked, Jaime made several attempts to inquire on Eddard's travels and time with the king, but he was met with only grunts or single word answers. Lord Stark led the Lannister to the high walls of Winterfell and seemed to be taking Jaime to a secluded section of the fortifications.
'The honorable Ned Stark surely wouldn't plot to throw a man off his battlements, right?' Jaime was asking himself, as he did his best not to shiver at a crisp gust of Northern air.
After some time, Eddard stopped and turned to the Lannister with a cold gaze. Jaime expected all kinds of curses and accusations to erupt from the man, but the Lord of the North surprised him with, "You've done a great service for my House and my family."
Caught off guard, Jaime could only bow his head and reply, "I've only fulfilled my duties as a Kingsguard and the oath I made to you."
"Some would say your actions have gone beyond your normal duties and oaths." The older man replied and Jaime was shocked to hear what might have been a double entendre in the Northern lord's statement.
Still facing away from him, Ned finally addressed the elephant in the room, or rather, on the walls, "Do you think these actions have made you worthy enough to marry my daughter?"
"Never." Jaime didn't need to even think of his response, before answering, "There could never be a high enough qualification or standard that would come even close to making one worthy of her."
"Yet, she asks my permission to allow this match all the same." Ned seemed to say more to himself than the other man.
Curious, Jaime stood beside the Northerner, "Do you disagree with this match?"
"That is a difficult question." Ned Stark didn't try to hide how torn his mind must be, "She explained it to me as if it were a business proposal. And she's right. It is the correct political move that would alleviate the current troubles that have placed my House in jeopardy. An alliance with the West, along with our ties to the Vale and the Riverlands might make for the most powerful bloc in the Seven Kingdoms."
"Although," And now Ned Stark made sure that he didn't hide his contempt, "the price I must pay is selling my daughter to a Southerner that is devoid of anything resembling nobility and honor."
Insulted, and not willing to enter a relationship where he would constantly be at odds with the father of his potential wife, Jaime challenged the man, "Honor. Nobility. Righteousness. That is the significant difference between the two of us, is it not? You detest me for the lack of these traits, yet I find it liberating."
The incredulous look that the stiff features of Ned Stark morphed into encouraged Jaime to continue, "Unlike you Northerners, I don't claim to know what true nobility is. I can tell you it's not standing guard outside a door, while a Mad King repeatedly rapes his wife. I'm constantly searching for something that has true meaning, and there are times where I certainly do put myself before others on this quest. I don't allow myself to be bound by suffocating moral codes that tie my hands in all my decisions."
"You think my daughter would be happy with a man of such low moral character?" Ned grunted, and Jaime noticed that he clenched his teeth much in the same way as his younger daughter.
"She did propose the match." Jaime took great enjoyment out of reminding the older man that.
It only seemed to further enrage the Northern lord, "Are you implying that my daughter is lacking in morals?"
"Not at all." The Lannister enjoyed taunting the man, but he would never tell lies about Sansa, so he explained, "I think she is the best of both of us. The perfect middle ground if you would. She's not so enwrapped in your Northern severity to think outside the box, but she doesn't allow this freedom to corrupt her sensibilities."
Jaime forgot where he was for a moment and gazed toward the setting sun with a small grin, "I hope I can learn from her."
Ned stared at the golden knight in stunned silence for a moment, before Jaime continued, "Lord Stark, I know that I will never be worthy of your daughter. She is the most amazing person I have ever met. I found myself ridiculously happy when she proposed the idea of marriage to me. I know you don't think much of my word, but I swear that I will never harm your daughter."
The Northerner and the Westerner shared an intense stare for over a minute, which made Jaime subtly steady his footing in case the father wanted to make an attempt at shoving him over the side of the wall.
Instead, Ned Stark sighed and placed a hand on Jaime's shoulder, "I may not be as politically savvy as your Southern den of vipers," the Northern lord paused to lean in to continue in a whisper, "but I will kill you if you squander the trust my daughter has placed in you."
Jaime was stunned, as Ned leaned back and slammed a bit of parchment into his hands.
"We leave for Riverrun in two days." Ned announced, as he left Jaime to stand alone on the wall.
The Lannister looked down and realized that the parchment was a letter. Unfolding it, Jaime read:
Lord Stark,
I have convinced the King to host a tourney at Riverrun in a celebration of your being made Hand of the King and my son being removed from the Kingsguard. While there, I would like to speak to you about the specifics of our children's wedding. It will, of course, take place at Casterly Rock and I advise that we have it soon after the completion of the tourney.
Sincerely,
Lord Tywin Lannister
Jaime could stand there for a moment, before he shook his head.
"Gods, that man works fast."
There you go! Slightly shorter chapter than usual, but I hope the fluff and set up for future plot points makes up for that. It's not really realistic that even someone like Tywin could have made plans that quickly, but for the sake of moving the story along, and getting us the hell out of the North, I went with it. Also, I have been working on that modern politics fic and I would expect the first chapter to be released sometime in the near future! Thanks again!