Hi!
Sorry for the delay in the update! But this chapter's quite a long one, so hopefully that will make up for it. Also, I was really upset by the Jaime x Cersei rape scene in the show. It was completely unnecessary and frankly speaking horrendous, especially considering in the books everything was consensual, so I won't be incorporating that. In fact even though this story started off following a scene from the show, it'll be venturing off from that path.
Feel free to leave any reviews, or comments you may have. I appreciate the feedback! Anyways, enjoy!
⊹ Sansa ⊹
Earlier this morning, I had woken with a desire to go riding. I was only permitted to traipse about the square, for fear of an escape attempt, but I had nothing better to do. My newfound friend Margaery was breaking fast with her grandmother, - most likely discussing the intricacies of her fast approaching wedding to Joffrey, leaving me free for the day. Lately we'd been spending more and more time together; going for rides, listening aptly to the sweet songs their singer would croon for us, but mostly we'd just talk. About all sorts of things, over scones and sweet tea.
As I waited for the stableboy to emerge with my horse, I spotted Jaime Lannister walking by. I immediately looked away, in the hopes that he would continue on his path and ignore me, but no such luck.
"My Lady," he cleared his throat to announce his arrival.
"My Lord," I replied pleasantly enough, quirking roseate tiers up into a compliant smile for his benefit.
"Are you going for a ride?" he asked politely.
"Yes, I am. Thank you for asking. And where are you headed?" Jaime twisted his mouth awkwardly, as if caught off guard at my inquiry. "If you don't mind my asking," I quickly added, noting his hesitance, wondering for a fleeting moment if he was venturing to a brothel. His vows had already been broken so many times, ignoring celibacy was hardly anything to blanch over.
"No, it's fine. I was actually about to... meet up with your husband's sellsword. Bronn. He's been helping me... train my other hand... In sword practice." I could sense his embarrassment clearly, though he tried to mask it. "Oh?" I questioned, arching a brow.
"But apparently he won't be able to make it today. He sent someone to inform me at our usual meeting place. I was just about to head back to my quarters... But riding's a tempting prospect as well..." He looked so hopeful, it seemed rude to decline him.
"I wouldn't mind an escort," I cut in hastily. Jaime looked up at that.
"It would be an honor to be at your service, my Lady," he cut in a tad teasingly.
The stableboy arrived at that moment, toting a well-built chestnut brown Gelding. As my head was turned, I caught Jaime sneaking a glimpse down my bodice. Since I was just riding, I had dressed simply in riding boots, breeches and an old tunic that I'd had since I'd come to King's Landing. A tunic I had to admit had grown much too small, and strained quite a bit over my breasts. A warm blush flushed upon my countenance, and I turned to my horse in relief.
"Bring me one as well, I'll be riding with Lady Sansa here," Jaime announced to the attentive employee.
⊹ Jaime ⊹
I watched her out the corner of my eye, as we trotted along at a leisurely pace. She was being a lot more polite than she had been at last night's dinner. Tyrion had been right about her using her courtesies as an armor, of a sort. She also looked better somehow. Yesterday, she had been dressed in a silk gown, her hair done up in the typical court fashion, but today she seemed more relaxed. Dressed like a boy, teats spilling over the top of her shirt. Her red hair a tumble of disheveled strawberry curls. The humid weather casting a dewy glow upon her rosy cheeks. Blue eyes bright.
"The wedding is coming up soon..." I started, in an attempt to get her to open up.
"Yes," she answered calmly. "I'm happy for Margaery."
"Not Joffrey?" I countered, with a cocked brow. She faltered for a moment before speaking in an almost mechanical tone.
"Oh of course, Joffrey. Him too. I didn't mean to forget him."
"Right... And what of my brother? How is he treating you? Well, I would hope."
"More than well. He's been wonderfully kind to me..."
"But you don't love him," I finished for her dryly. She swiveled around suddenly at that, pulling on the reins in order to get a grip on her mount, her eyes widening in surprised shock at my audacity. The abrupt action alerted her horse to some kind of distress, setting it off on a frenzied gallop. She tried unsuccessfully to slow it down, but I saw the rising panic in those wide cobalt irises.
"Hang on, my Lady! I'm coming to the rescue!" I shouted after her mockingly, trying to use humor in an effort to soften her up.
It was easy to reach her, even with only one good hand fumbling at the reins. I managed to bring the horse to a screeching halt, almost toppling over Sansa in the process. I grabbed ahold of her sleeve to steady her, in the process yanking it back to reveal a bevy of ghastly looking bruises. Ones big and discolored enough to remind me of bruises I myself got in the fields fighting.
I knew immediately who was responsible. Joffrey. I'd heard he'd been mistreating her, but this was something else...
It was silent riding back. After Sansa had unwillingly reported to me exactly what Joffrey ordered the rest of the Kingsguard to do to her when she annoyed him, I had fumed quietly on my horse until reaching the stables once again. Once I had dismounted, I walked over, looking down upon her sincerely.
"I won't let him hurt you ever again. You have my word... whatever that's worth."
With that I strode off, to Cersei's chambers, not even bothering to knock as I swung open the door.
"Jaime...! You know you can't be here!" Cersei said after I'd barged in.
"I don't care! Did you know Joffrey gets the Kingsguard to beat the living shit out of Sansa Stark?"
"Of course I knew. He's my son," Cersei answered, alarmed. "What is this all about?"
"For god's sake Cersei! She's a highborn lady! A girl of fourteen! Surely after all the abuse you lived through with Robert, you'd have a bit more sympathy for Sansa's plight."
"This is the way of war," Cersei replied cooly, re-gathering her still composure. "She's my hostage. You're out fighting your battles, I'm fighting mine. And I can't afford to care about our enemies."
"Robb Stark is the enemy you speak of. Not a helpless girl."
"Everyone who isn't us is an enemy... Jaime, you're not mad. Calm down. Please." She was using her breathy low voice, the one she always used to beguile. And within a few slow steps, she was the sexy seductress that never turned me away. "Don't be angry with me, please. You know how I hate it." She used a pale hand to stroke my cheek, the other to brush against my hardening cock. "I love you. You know that. Forget about Sansa, and come to bed with me..."
Within a few caresses, the issue had melted from my mind. It had been so long and I wasn't about to refuse her. She loved me again.
⊹ Sansa ⊹
( A few weeks later... )
You are cordially invited to help celebrate Joffrey Baratheon & Margaery Tyrell's wedding.
King's Landing, The castle, all day.
Wear your most formal attire! We'd be delighted to have you attend!
I couldn't stop staring at the invitation. What if I just didn't show up? The last thing I wanted was to see my good friend marry one of the most despicable creatures in all the Seven Kingdoms. But I had to, all the same. My presence was expected. As was everyone, the invitation was just a formality.
Sighing in resignation, I started to change into the gown Margaery had issued for me. It was a gorgeous creation, a midnight blue confection that set off my eyes, with layers of creamy white lace embroidery. Servants had bathed me in sweet smelling oils and fragrances, and scrubbed me until I felt raw. Shae had then twisted strands of my drying hair around her finger, styling them into polished ringlets, much like how Margaery wore her hair. She then fastened the purple gemstone necklace Dontos had gifted me around my slender neck. I had taken extra special care to hide the bruises running up and down my body with powder, to avoid another situation like that had happened with Ser Jaime two weeks prior.
Green. Blue. Purple. Pale pale pale paper white.
Those were all the colors Joffrey turned before blood began streaming from the crevices on his once handsome face and Cersei began screaming for help. I could only sit there and stare in disturbed shock, before relief began to set in. I was free.
But then memories of Jaime's promise began to filter through. 'I won't let him hurt you ever again.' That was the vow he had solemnly sworn to me. And I hadn't talked to him since. Is this what he had meant? I glanced swiftly over at him, he was sitting still as a statue. Strangely calm. He noticed my panicked stare, and nodded his head subtly ever so to the side. He then stood up promptly heading over to the direction he had suggested, easily forgotten in the pandemonium. I followed soon after.
"What did you do?!" I hissed, my manners easily discarded, the wild tone of voice and frenzied stare reminiscent of my wily little sister.
"What on earth are you talking about?"
"Did you kill him? Joffrey?! Did you kill him!?"
"No! Of course not! He's my nephew! Seven hells, Sansa!"
"But what about the promise you made me?.."
"I wasn't planning on fucking murdering him! For god's sake! Who do you take me for?"
"It's not like you haven't slain a king before!" The venom in my voice shattered the tense atmosphere between us. Jaime stared stunned at me, for a moment, before rearranging his visage back into an indifferent grimace. "I didn't kill him, Sansa. I didn't."
Something in his voice led me to believe him. But then he continued, pity crossing over his expression. "But they're gonna think you killed him. Cersei will blame you."
I almost choked. "But I didn't do anything..!" I protested.
"I know you didn't...But don't worry. I'll help you. I promise."