ASOIAF

Twist

Disclaimer: I Own Nothing.

Summary: Couples that never would have found each other if not for the war.

Arya & Gendry—

Gendry was in disbelief as his daughter was handed to him by the midwife. He worried that he might drop her or hurt her, the baby girl being such a tiny thing in his arms. She was red all over and whimpering slightly, and Gendry loved her with all his heart already. This had to be a dream, he thought as he rocked her in his arms as the maester and midwife cleaned up Arya. He glanced over at his wife. This had to be a dream, he thought again.

But the thin scar on Arya's right cheek, right under her eye, the burn on his left hand, and the many unseen scars they both bore reminded him otherwise. He looked down at his daughter, who looked right back at him with bleary eyes, and smiled widely.

It was all worth it for this moment, he thought.

Sansa & Podrick—

They sat in a companionable silence, eating lemoncakes and skimming over documents as they lay sprawled out on her bed. Sansa was thankful that Podrick was willing to help her with her work. He read letters from bannermen and sorted them into three different piles for her: urgent, trivial, and kindling. Sansa herself was busy reading and replying to the letters in the urgent pile.

Sansa sneaked a glance at Podrick, feeling his gaze on her. He looked away, blushing, and went back to reading the letter in his hand. Sansa smiled wickedly and set aside her quill. She took his face in her hands and gave him a deep kiss. When she pulled away, he was the most alarming shade of red and it made Sansa giggle. Podrick grinned like a fool back at her. Sansa leant in to give him another kiss, laughing on the inside.

Look at her, a Queen kissing a squire. Her younger self may have blushed at the impropriety of the it; her current self wouldn't have it any other way.

Jaime & Brienne—

Jaime didn't know if he should be proud or ashamed that his daughter could best her older brother in swordplay any day of the week. Areta and Thad were a year apart and looked as alike as twins, but Areta was a boy in all ways except for what was between her legs and Thad seemed more interested in academia than fighting. While Jaime might have preferred it the other way around, he still looked on and smiled and shouted encouragement at Areta as she beat her brother over and over again in the practice yard with a wooden blade under the guidance of their mother.

Brienne seemed to alternate between being proud of Areta's talent and being exasperated by the girl's rambunctious demeanor. Jaime laughed as Brienne was forced to drag Areta off her brother and set the girl loose on some squires. He approached as she helped Thad to his feet. The nine year old looked ashamed of himself, but Jaime ruffled his hair—at first reaching for him with his gold hand, making the boy bugged eyed with fear for a second to Jaime's amusement, and then switching to his left—and guided him towards the keep so the boy could get back to his precious books. Really, Jaime would rather have a pudgy little avid reader for a son than a mad boy-king like Joffrey. He'd rather have children he could actually love as his own than ones that were only his in blood. He'd rather have an ugly, honorable lady knight as a wife than a beautiful, conniving queen as a lover.

Wex & Wylla—

The water was freezing cold and Wex was sure they would both be sick in bed tomorrow for it, but he dived straight in with Wylla, causing a huge splash in the harbor. When they came back to the surface, she was laughing and he was grinning. She teased him for being scared to jump at first, and Wex had to admit it wasn't as bad as he expected. Then she splashed him and he splashed her right back, and then she dunked him under, and he dunked her right back. They didn't climb out of the water until neither of them could feel their toes.

They climbed back up on the docks and gathered their clothes and ran naked all the way back to the keep. Wylla did it laughing the whole time. When they got back, she pulled him into her chambers where a fire was roaring. They lied next to it, both still naked, her green hair splayed out around her and a wicked grin on his face as he eyed her up and down. Wylla raised a blond eyebrow at him challengingly. Wex crawled towards her, wondering if he would have ever had met a girl as amazing as Wylla Manderly if he never became Theon Greyjoy's squire.

Mya & Raynald—

They sat up at night, cleaning up the council room after the daily meeting had been adjourned, stacking papers and put them aside and putting quills and pots of ink away. The small council needed to learn to clean up after their selves, Mya thought as she wiped down the table. Raynald wrapped his arms around her waist as she did. Mya smiled to herself, but continued wiping. Then she felt his bushy mustache on her neck and she giggled. Conceding defeat, she turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck.

The Westerling heir, the miraculous survivor of the Red Wedding, smiled broadly as he laid her down on the table. Mya had a distant fear about being caught in such a compromising position with the young Lord, but that fear disappeared completely from her mind when Raynald kissed her. A childish part of her wished Mychel Redfort could see her now, but only briefly; the woman in her wondered if she would still be heartbroken over that boy if she hadn't left the Vale with Sansa and those knights. She shrugged it off, instead deciding to focus on more pleasurable things.

Tyrion & Tysha—

She looks older than she really is and Tyrion couldn't care less because after all that happened to her because of him, the least he could do is this. He brings her flowers every time he visits and he sits and talks to her for hours. He taught her how to play cyvasse so they could play together during his visits. She taught him a card game she learned some years ago from a Braavosi whore. On a few occasions, they even find themselves in her bed. But in the end, Tyrion goes back to King's Landing and leaves her some gold to take care of herself until his next visit.

She still smiles at him the same way. That was the only thing that didn't change, and Tyrion's happy for that. She smiles at him with true affection and care, not at all repulsed by his appearance. He could honestly say that her smiles were what kept him going sometimes, when things were tough in the capital. He always had visits to her little cottage to look forward to, and that makes the worst days bearable. Being able to be with her again, Tyrion thinks, is the best thing that came out of the war for him.

Rickon & Dorea—

She wielded that morning star well, and Rickon loved her for it. She swung it at him and he blocked the blow with his blade. He took a swipe at her with his sword, but she slipped right out of its path and twirled out of his reach. She was so graceful, Rickon could almost believe she was a graceful maiden. But they both knew that on and off the practice field, Dorea was a tigress.

Eventually, Rickon gave up on actual sparring and just tackled her to the ground, knocking the weapon right out of hand and her breath from her lungs. The laughed and rolled around in the mud, not caring about the whispers and disapproving looks they got from onlookers. When Rorris, the Master at Arms, pried him off of her, Rickon still grinned like a maniac at her and winked as he was sent away to continue to training "properly". She blew him a kiss teasingly as she reentered the keep. Rickon pretended to catch it. He faced his new sparring partner, a ward from the Riverlands named Nestor, wondering how he got so lucky to be betrothed to such a fearsome woman.

Robert & Loreza—

Like him, Loreza had never been a healthy child. Like her aunt Elia, she had a poor constitution and never partook in the same love of weaponry and violence as her sisters. For that reason, Robert liked to think he understood Loreza better than anyone else. He knew the frustration of being too weak to keep up and wanting to be strong but never being able to gain the strength you desired. So when Loreza fell ill within her first week in the Vale upon their arrival there, Robert never left her bedside. He wanted to hold her hand through it all and give her strength and share it with her.

He held his friend and betrothed's hand as her fever came and went for three whole days. He slept beside her in the same bed and took his meals in her chamber with her. He sang her songs and told her stories Sansa had sung to him and told him when he had been ill as a boy. He hoped they might help her as they did him. They seemed to, because when her fever broke on the fourth day, she thanked him and kissed him for the first time. Robert was thankful for Sansa's songs and stories more than ever in that moment.

A/N: My OTPs and favorite Crack Pairing. Mess with 'em and you die. JK!...maybe.

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