Robb stood in the sleeping tent that had been erected for him when people realized that the negotiations were going to take more than one day. The party the Lannister's sent had returned to the city with the promise that they would meet four hours past sunrise again to resume the talks. He could not bring himself to lie down to sleep knowing that Arya was lost or dead, alone in the world. There was some relief that the Lord Tyrion seemed to be open to trading the Kingslayer for Sansa. It galled him to have to give up his prized prisoner but Sansa was worth it. It had upset many of his Bannermen, but one man would not make much of a difference if they had to wage war against the Capital and it would prevent anyone from killing Sansa if it looked like Kings Landing would fall.

His mother was now praying to the statues of the Seven that had been brought along for the men who kept the new gods, but he did not know whether she was praying for Arya to be alive or praying that she had had a kind death.

Unfortunately while the negotiations to secure Sansa's freedom were nearing completion, the rest of the negotiations were unsuccessful. Lord Tyrion had made it quite clear that the Westerlands had no intention of forsaking the city and that his nephew and sister would cling to the crown with all they had. He was unsurprised although this now meant that it looked as though a full scale attack on the city was inevitable if they wished to keep their vows, something that a few Northern Lords had cautioned against. There had been murmurings that once Sansa was theirs they should leave the city and Stannis to their fates, he had even heard some talk of a resurgence of the Kingdom in the North, although he did his best to squash such talk, the economy of the North was stronger with a unified Westeros than if it all split up, as much as he would love to give Lady Margaery a crown.

Sansa had slept fitfully ever since she heard the whispers of a Northron army in the crownlands, even more so since she had seen Lord Tyrion leave to negotiate with the rebels. Sansa did not know the outcome of such talks as Lord Tywin's youngest son had been sequestered away with him, the Queen and the Small Council as soon as he returned the first day. He had not been seen since although she had seen the. She had heard of course the rumours, talk of replacing her as Joffrey's betrothed with a Lady from the east, daughter of a powerful Magister of one of the free cities perhaps or a Lady of Qarth whose denizens ousted the Mother of Dragons and who are purported to crave crowns. Although nothing had come of it. Sansa suspected that was because they were either too busy supporting or opposing the last Targaryen or because an unstable throne in a far off land did not appeal.

She was kneeling in the godswood as the sun began to set, Sansa's knees ached, her skirts doing little to protect her from the rough dirt. She had been kneeling all day first in the Sept praying at all the alters save the Stranger, whose shrouded face she voided, the way people avoided her.

"My Lady" a rough voice called from behind her. Sansa turned to find herself face to face with Ser Meryn Trant.

"Ser Meryn" Sansa choked out, curtseying. It felt wrong, sacrilegious to see someone who had caused her so much hurt here in her sanctuary, the place of her father's gods. She knew better however than to speak these feelings and waited for the Knight to make his purpose clear. Perhaps she was to be sent to the king, who would most definitely be fuming that her brother had dared to show his face, to make demands of his royal highness.

"The King and his council wish to see you. I am to escort you to the throne room" his voice grated on her nerves. The deliberate blandness as though he had not torn her clothes from her body to beat her on the whims of a madman wearing a crown. Sansa did not argue though, she only stood dusting herself off and walked past him, trusting that he would follow to ensure she did not run. As though she had anywhere to run to.

As she walked into the throne room Sansa saw that while Joffrey was seated on the Iron Throne, wearing his crown, he lacked most of the courtiers that normally followed him everywhere. In fact the throne room nearly empty, the only other people being the Queen Mother, Lord Tywin and the rest of Joffrey's Small Council, a few members of his Kingsguard and… Lord Tyrion. Sansa's nerves which she had wrested under control during the walk from the godswood were suddenly out of control and she stumbled slightly making her way forward. She wondered if the emptiness was a good sign or an ill omen. Perhaps Joffrey intended to do something worse to her than he had so far, something so awful that the people who had stood by and watched her previous denigration would be forced to step in. She was not left to worry for long though as Lord Tywin cleared his throat before launching into an explanation.

"Lady Sansa, you have been called into the Throne room because there is news. Joffrey is setting you aside so that you can be traded for Ser Jaime. Make no mistake this does not mean that your family will be left alone or that the war is over, merely that you will wait out the rest of the negotiations or battle... should Lord Tyrion let it come to that" Lord Tywin's voice took on a tinge of disdain as his eyes swept over his youngest son. "You will be traded immediately, Lord Tyrion and myself will escort you to your chambers whereupon you will pack your things and be taken outside the city gates where the exchange will take place." He finished his countenance grim. She wondered how they had convinced the King to go along with this, she was his most prized play thing and a quick glance toward Joffrey showed his unhappiness but he did nothing to stop the proceedings.

Sansa squashed the hope that threatened to rise, this could be a trap. It was probably a trap. They could be walking her to her death.

The evening was getting chilly and though no one had told him where they were Jaime recognized the land well enough to know that they were near Kings Landing, near Cersei. She had been the only thing he had thought of in months and the knowledge that she was so close was heady, it was also maddening. Walking he could be by her side in an hours' time, half of that if he had a horse, but instead he sat in a cage surrounded by the filth of Stark's army. He knew better though then to complain, he was hungry and whilst the food they gave him was little more than scraps it was better than nothing and worth keeping his mouth shut.

His brooding was interrupted when he heard a commotion in front of him. He looked up to see that the guards assigned to him were all ignoring him to watch... Lord Robb and some of his retinue walk toward him. This was certainly a surprise as he had not seen his famed captor since he had been placed in a Riverrun cell. There seemed to be some confusion with the orders the young lord was giving, though no one seemed to be brave enough to countermand their liege. Jaime watched with surprise, although he did not allow it to show on his face as his gaoler unlocked the cage and motioned him out. He refused to ask what was happening, not so far gone as to beg for scraps of information from Ned Stark's son.

"You're coming with us, Kingslayer" Robb Stark grinned as he spoke, sounding far happier than Jaime was comfortable with given how close Starks army was to his sister. They walked him, unchained but unarmed through the tents that were being raised and past horses and soldiers that looked like they wanted to spit at him, but didn't for fear they might accidently spit on their beloved leader. It was only as they passed the tents reserved for the higher lords and gained a shadow of at least a hundred swordsmen that Jaime realized what was happening. They were trading him, for the Stark girls he supposed. It didn't matter to him as much as the realization that Cersei was within his reach.

They crossed the grassy knoll that seemed to be the decided spot for the swap and Jaime's heart leapt when he saw the Lannister banners marching towards him. As they got closed Jaime realized that his brother, the unmistakable Imp of Casterly Rock was leading the procession, by his side a red haired girl whom Jaime vaguely recognized, Lady Sansa probably. The parties met and Jaime watched his brother's eyes narrow at his sorry state. He watched as his brother made the customary courtesies before he was pushed forward slightly. As he and Lady Sansa passed each other on the way to their respective families he wondered why she was alone and not in the company of her wild sister.

Lysa sat next to her sister who was staring ahead, her mind obviously elsewhere. She gripped Catelyn's hand in hers as they waited for Cat's eldest to be returned. Her sister had said very little since they discovered her youngest daughter was missing and though she and Lord Willas had done their best there was little comfort that could be given. They were taking turns sitting with her and Willas had just returned and took up his place on Catelyn's other side. She let her sister's hand go and stood walking over to the table to pour herself a cup of wine. There was a small cough from the entrance of the tent and she raised her head to meet her father's eyes. He gestured for her to follow him out of the tent, curiosity piqued she did as he bid.

"Your sister's husband has given her much comfort in the wake of this distressing news" His voice lowered slightly at the end of his sentence as though he thought that by mentioning his granddaughter's disappearance in front of Catelyn it would remind her, as if she could ever forget.

"We have been very busy but I wanted to take this opportunity to talk to you about your future" Hoster's voice was croaky with age but he still held the commanding tone that used to terrify her in her youth.

"What do you mean my future?" Lysa questioned, although she had a bad feeling she already knew the answer to that question. Lysa had made it very clear to her sister and uncle that she would under no circumstances be marrying again, but the message did not seemed to have reached her father. Or perhaps it had and she was merely being paranoid.

"I mean, Lysa you are only thirty name day's old. Yes you have had fertility issues in the past and your looks are hardly what they were when you married Jon, not that they were ever spectacular, but you are also the Lady Regent of the Vale of Arryn and the daughter of the Lord Paramount of the Riverland's. You are not without opportunities. Many second son's would be content to marry you, and surely you do not want to spend the rest of your life alone" he spoke those words as though he thought that was all that would be needed to convince her to tie her life and her future to a stranger. To give up the power that she had waited and worked so hard for, even if it was a temporary sort of power, hers until her son was old enough to rule in his own name. To give up her freedom and become in effect a child relying on the whim's and kindness or lack thereof of a parent. She knew that her experiences had made her bitter and that her perspective on marriage was blinded by it. Lysa knew that some found happiness and peace and that some men treated their wives as equal, but she had also seen the effects up close when they didn't. Her and Jon's marriage was not even the worst case she had seen. Lysa had watched as the most powerful woman in the Realm was beaten and insulted by her husband. It was not, in her mind worth the risk. In this way Catelyn was far braver than her, although she did have more to gain, and lose.

"I will not spend the rest of my life alone, but that does not mean that I will marry again. I am content as I am, I have friends and my son" Lysa kept her voice level as she talked, wary of being written off as a hysterical women if she showed any of the emotion that was coursing through her.

"Lysa, be reasonable. You must marry again, now I have thought of a list of suitable candidates. Perhaps we should begin with those already in the Vale –" Hoster snapped.

"I am being reasonable. I do not need to hear a list of men you deem suitable to marry me. I will not marry again. I have no need to." She responded, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment as frustration threatened to boil over. Lysa then plastered on a fake smile and turned to leave, walking way with her head high, and her father spluttering behind her.

They had been in a stalemate with Kings Landing for a few days, as they readied themselves for either a long siege or an attack on the city. Lady Margaery had spent her morning the same way she had spent most of her day's since Lady Sansa had been returned to them, sewing with her future goodsister in the morning then spending the afternoon with her and the leaders of the army they were camped in the middle of. She was just heading to the tent where the strategizing was taking place when she saw a small group of men carrying the standard that Stannis Baratheon had chosen for himself. A smile graced her face, this afternoon just got interesting.

Sansa sat with her brother, goodfather and future goodsister, the Lady Margaery Tyrell, and Ser Davos Seaworth. They were waiting for the remainder of council to arrive so that they may begin strategizing, finally having a representative of Stannis Baratheon so that they may have an accurate idea of his wants, and also his capabilities. Looking at Ser Davos Sansa mused that while he was probably not the most traditional of choices for Hand of the King, being lowborn and illiterate he was loyal and had a good enough head for strategy to have smuggled onions into Storms End while it was besieged by the Tyrell's. A fact that he did not seem to have forgotten given his somewhat cooler reception to Lady Margaery then to herself or Robb. Although he did maintain a polite civility even if his courtesies were not as polished as they could have been.

There was a scuffle at the door as her Uncle and grandsire tried to enter the tent at the same time although the Lord of the Riverland's eventually stepped back for the famed Knight. Both men had been kind if slightly distant since she had arrived. Sansa understood they had expected two girls to be traded for the Kingslayer and her mother had not taken the news of Arya's disappearance well. She had been questioned for hours about when she last saw Arya and where she thought Arya had gone and if she had, whilst in the midst of enemies heard anything or seen anything. Mercy from the questioning came from an unexpected source though, her Aunt had swept in, using her girth to push everyone around her out of her way, and then swept out again with Sansa in her arms.

She had become a confidante, someone upon whom she could lay her burdens. The Lady Regent of the Vale had held her through the nightmares of her time in Kings Landing. Had seen her scars and instead of recoiling with disgust had listened to her stories and shared her own memories of Kings Landing. Although her Aunt had never felt the sting and ache of the flat of a blade she had had her own pain and suffering in the Capital. Sansa heard of how she had been blamed for Jon Arryn's infertility, and how people had spoken that she was barren, cursed by the gods when her husband had had two wives before her and no living children. When he visited her once a moon, a small blessing.

Her mother's despair was the only dark spot in Sansa's freedom. When she first saw her they had hugged each other and sobbed. Her mother and her apologizing over and over to each other, since then though her mother would watch her but say little. Sansa would sometimes wake though, to find her mother staring at her in wonder.

They were only waiting on the Tully sister's and the Lady Olenna Tyrell, to begin their meeting. Sansa glanced over to Ser Davos, an unassuming man, but one whom the sight of filled her with anxiety. His words would start a fight, a battle that she was not sure they could win. Luckily they did not need to wait for long as the ladies entered in quick succession. Her brother cleared his throat before beginning.

"Thank you all for coming. Ser Davos welcome, I hope your journey to us was pleasant" Robb did not give the onion knight an opportunity to respond one way or the other before he resumed. "We are here to begin planning. Unfortunately talks with the Lannister's have broken down, luckily after we rescued my sister. Now we have some decision's to make. Ser Davos, if you will could you share your understanding of what His Grace, King Stannis want's" Robb finished speaking, taking a seat and squeezing the hand of his betrothed who looked upon him proudly.

"Thank you, my Lord" the Hand of the King, swallowed showing his nerves. "His Grace bid me here so that we might begin planning on how to take Kings Landing from the usurpers" Sansa noted that the Queen of Thorn's raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips at the term Usurper's, probably noting as Sansa did that it was the same term that the was used by Targaryen loyalist's to describe the former king Robert Baratheon.

"He does not wish for a drawn out siege, given that it is likely that it would be the small folk who would suffer and not the Lannister's, there is also a risk of the Lannister's finding support from somewhere. He would prefer a two sworded strategy, with him storming from the harbour and your armies taking the city from the field" he spoke somewhat clumsily. It was his mention of potential reinforcements that prompted Sansa to speak, causing all heads to turn towards her.

"I do not know if or when Dorne will send reinforcements, but I do know that they have been stymied so far in their attempts to court alliances with Essos. I mention this only because the fact that they have so far not been able to attract alliances from the eastern powers does not mean that they will not be able to in future. It is another reason though for Stannis to secure his throne." Sansa kept her voice steady as she spoke, hoping the grave and serious nature of her words would override any instinct to dismiss all she said due to her gender.

"Thank you, Lady Sansa. That knowledge could prove useful to his grace. Do you have any knowledge of where in Essos they have sent offers?" his tone was gentle although his face gave away the worry he felt.

"All I know is what I have overheard from gossip. Talk of a daughter of a magister. Given the commonness of the title I would not be able to guess which free cities they have contacted. There was also a rumour that they were courting a Lady of Qarth, a city far to the east that is known to have dreams of royal titles and has shown enmity towards the last Targaryen" Sansa alleged. There were frowns on most faces in the room, she supposed because though the likelihood of help from the aforementioned quarters was unlikely the risk was troubling. The Lady Margaery and her grandmother shared a smile though, and that piqued Sansa's curiosity.

"That in itself is disquieting, dear niece. We should not rest on our laurels and take such a risk. I would therefore advocate for a swift taking of the city so that we can be prepared for any eventuality" Lysa's emphasis was meant, Sansa thought, to remind people of the threat the Mother of Dragons posed without actually saying the words.

"This is all well and good, but we still need to know what our dear leader want's to happen once we take the city. We ourselves have already decided on a list of demands that need to be followed in order for our swords to provide the support Stannis needs." The Queen of Thorns snapped. Although her tone and choice of words was no doubt meant to inflame the tension between Stannis' representative and those who had supported Renly.

"Demands?" though the question was posed with a calm tone of voice the expression on the face of the Onion Knight had grown decidedly cold.

"Grandmother" Lady Margaery hissed, her creamy complexion tinged pink. Luckily her Aunt was there to intervene.

"Demand's is a strong word. Rather we have some ideas about how the invasion will play out and the immediate aftermath. For example we would prefer" she paused after receiving several heated glances. "Sorry, we would strongly prefer", her tone of voice leaving no doubt that by prefer she meant we insist, "that all effort is taken to prevent any repeating of the atrocious actions of Tywin Lannister and his lackey's in Robert's Rebellion. Whatever happens we would like all involved to receive fair trials" Lysa said, phrasing it like a request although everyone knew it was more akin to the demand that Lady Olenna had described. Luckily Ser Davos did not seem to find the idea disagreeable at all.

"If that's, all then of course your preferences will be followed. King Stannis has made it clear that anyone caught raping or anything of that sort will be gelded and sent to live out their day's serving the realm as a member of the Nights Watch. As well, of course his grace will provide all involved with fair, unbiased trials so that the entire realm may see their guilt and know it to be true" Ser Davos seemed content, or at the very least more relaxed then he had otherwise been.

"No, that's not all. Lady Sansa's testimony as to the guilt or innocence of the current rulers of King's Landing will be given precedence. She will be given the opportunity to recommend punishments for all the accused. We insist on this because as someone who has been made a victim by them Lady Sansa has the best insight into the criminals living in his grace's castle, given that she was their prisoner for so long. My niece Lady Lysa, Lord Robb, my brother Lord Hoster, my goodnephew Lord Willas or their nominated representative will be named judges to all the trials, with King Stannis of course serving as High Judge." Ser Brynden's voice was scratchy, and he motioned for a glass of water after he finished speaking. His words were obviously not as welcome to Ser Davos as Lady Lysa's had been, but Sansa was glad he had spoken. It was better to have an uncomfortable conversation now then to put someone on the throne that would then dismiss your views and ideas.

"I don't reckon his grace would have any problems with that" Ser Davos spoke slowly, sounding out each word.

"We are grateful, ser. Now I think it is time to plan exactly how and when we will launch our attack" Robb said, his tone belying the grim nature of their activities. Sansa wondered if she should leave but decided that if anyone thought she would be a security risk they would speak up. She mulled as she watched her brother and Ser Willas discussing the merits of their respective cavalry whether she would end up bartered as her mother and brother had been to ensure the success of their vengeance.

Her disgusting brother was running around the city trying to get his infernal chain or some such nonsense finished. Cersei sat in the room in the red keep that had been designated for the ladies to wait in while the battle raged. Its emptiness seemed to mock her, showing her a future where she would be alone, surrounded by squawking imbeciles, but alone. It was times like these that her anger over having been so cursed by the gods to inhabit such a weak form was most overpowering. She should be out their fighting, in battle next to Jaime, their gloriousness blinding their enemies in the heat of battle.

Nevertheless, even women had work to do and parts to play. Cersei knew she had to paint a smile on her face and become the demure Queen everyone expected. Especially since her father's arrival and pushed her out of most of the planning. A situation which forced her to make her own plans. She would not allow her children to die in the ignominy that her predecessor had. She stood and made her way toward the nursery room's where she had asked, begged really; her son's to meet her. Cersei only made one stop, ducking into her rooms, leaving her assigned Kingsguard, Ser Meryn waiting outside while she fetched Tyanna's Mercy, a poison said to have been first created by Queen Tyanna of Pentos, wife and Master of Whisper's to the feared and reviled King Maegor the cruel.

When she arrived and saw her two boy's together staring up at her she was so strongly reminded of her love that she did not move for a second. Having them together also reminded her of the traitorous Imp and how he had sold her only daughter to the Dornish snakes for a pittance and a second son. Cersei made her way to the table they sat at without saying a word, glad that her instructions for the honey milk and its accoutrements to be set up away from the main table had been followed. It would be easier this way to slip the cloudy white poison into their drinks.

"Mother. I have a war to win. I do not have time for childish nonsense. I am a King and King's drink wine and ale not honey milk. I am not a child" her eldest, Joffrey snapped. There was anger in his words, his tone showing off the confidence and stature she had raised him with. He was truly a Lion and her heir more than he ever was heir to the foul drunkard she had been forced to marry. Her second son Tommen sat quietly, having tensed slightly when Joffrey began speaking. He was weak, but she would make him strong. Tommen would survive and learn from his brother how to be a Lannister if it was the last thing she ever accomplished.

"Of course. I won't take up too much of your time then my love. I just wished to speak with you a moment… to wish you luck" she turned and began pouring the honey milk, adding Tyanna's Mercy along with some cinnamon into the cup for her Joffrey. She passed it to him and he quickly gulped down half the cup before responding.

"Silly woman, I don't need luck. I am a skilled swordsman and will no doubt be as successful in battle with Widow's Wail as father was with his Warhammer." He finished his cup of milk and tossed it onto the table letting it bounce off onto the ground, standing and walking away from her, gesturing for his kingsguard to follow. Cersei swallowed her bitterness, he was a Lion and she was no sheep. She used the distraction to pour the last of the poison into Tommen's cup.

"Mother, may I have some milk please" her youngest asked as he stood and picked up the cup that had been discarded by Joffrey. She shook her head and turned, smiling down. Tommen was so like her Jaime sometimes.

"Of course dear", she said passing him his honey milk, glad that Joffrey had behaved as he had, it had given her the perfect opportunity to slip the poison into Tommen's milk. She drank her own slowly, enjoying the taste of the northern barley liquor that she had tippled into her cup. Tyanna's Mercy took almost a day to take effect, although once the symptoms begin to show there is very little time till the Stranger takes you. The antidote, creatively named Maegor's Bane was a concoction that Cersei personally loved. Though it would cure you if you had been slipped Tyanna's Mercy, it would only be effectual if given before the symptoms started to show, and if you had not been given any Mercy, then it would kill you itself. A wonderful little contradiction. She sat with her son as long as she could before sending him off to bed, a message with his guards to take Tommen and run if at any point it looks like the battle is not going in their favour. She would remember to keep an eye on Joffrey herself.