DISCLAIMER: Characters etc. belong to George RR Martin; I'm just having some fun and expect nothing out of this other than my own amusement at placing my favorite ship exactly where I want them.

JAIME

A day's ride, my arse.

That's what Brienne had said, the night she'd found him in Pennytree. She claimed to have found Sansa Stark, that the girl was but a day's ride away, and that if they didn't leave immediately the girl would die. At the hand of the Hound, nonetheless, a man who'd apparently risen from the dead - no, never been dead in the first place. "We can't leave tonight," he'd insisted. "We can't ride, not with such little light." He'd gestured to the half-moon and she'd looked up, her ugly bandaged face appearing at turns annoyed, concerned, and finally, resigned.

They'd left before dawn, though, and he'd followed her all day in near silence. Nothing new there. Brienne of Tarth was not a loquacious woman, to be sure, but how little she spoke combined with the fact that she would not look him in the eye had made Jaime more than a little suspicious.

As the sun had begun to set he'd finally reminded her that they should be reaching their destination. Soon. And that's when Brienne had stopped her horse, turned to him, and admitted that they would need quite a bit longer than one day to reach Maidenpool.

"Maidenpool?" Jaime did not like the sound of this. "What are you about, Brienne?"

The Maid of Tarth flushed red and averted her eyes. "I thought...if I told you the entire truth...that you wouldn't agree to accompany me."

Jaime had to stop himself from growling his original nickname for her, just then. You've not called her Wench in quite some time, best not pick up with that again now she's got you by the...

"Tell me. Now," he ordered, dismounting from Honor and reaching for his things.

"You'll...you'll not try to leave?"

"Not yet. At least not until you've explained why you lied. Do you have any idea where Sansa Stark is, my lady? Is the Hound truly alive, and does he in fact have her?"

Brienne dismounted as well. She was obviously nervous, shuffling her feet and chewing on her lip. Finally she admitted, "I...I do have an idea where Sansa Stark is. Where she maybe. And the Hound...he is alive, it is true, the Elder Brother at the Quiet Isle saved him. He had nothing to do with the rape of Saltpans, and when..." she trailed off, looking, if possible, even more embarrassed.

"When what?" Jaime prompted. When she continued to remain silent, he warned, "You must tell all, Brienne, for only then will I be able to decide what to do." Gods, I have my own business to attend to. I've left my men wasting away in some inconsequential Riverlands village. I won't have you leading me on some wild...wolf chase!

"I told the Elder Brother what I was about. I told him everything. And then I left, and he called Clegane to him and told him to find Sansa. Apparently Clegane had spoken to him of the girl. Of...of things that had happened in King's Landing. Of how he regretted not helping her, not taking her away from there..."

"Did he now?" Jaime pondered this. Could it be that the little wolf girl had wooed the Lannister dog?

Brienne shrugged. "The Elder Brother seemed to think that Clegane would not harm Sansa Stark, but..."

"You have your doubts." She nodded. "Rightfully so," he frowned.

They had spoken for quite some time that night. Jaime made Brienne tell him everything that had happened to her since they'd last met, and when they came back around to Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane and she explained her Maidenpool theory, he had to grudgingly agree that it was their best option. Yet the next day when they were back on the road, and the day after that, and the day after that...he continued to press her with random asides about Maidenpool and whether they would truly find the Hound and the Stark girl - or their trail - there.

So that when they rounded a bend in the kingsroad just a few days' ride from the port town and came face-to-face with Sandor Clegane, his drawn sword, and a pretty young peasant woman who, knowing what they knew, could only be Sansa Stark in disguise, Jaime was torn between wondering if they were a mere vision - and laughing hysterically at what could only be called sheer luck.

"Gods, Brienne. For once you were right," Jaime finally murmured. She was obviously as shocked as he was but still had the ability to shoot a frustrated look at him before calling out to the other pair of riders.

"My lady Sansa?" Brienne's voice was unsure. Jaime rolled his eyes.

"Greetings, Hound," he said, wishing he could lay his hand on his sword hilt. But he had just one hand nowadays, and needed to keep that one on the reins.

"I don't want any trouble," Sandor Clegane growled. "With either of you." He eyed Brienne as well, looking her up and down with eyes that seemed both amused and disgusted.

"If you don't want any trouble, you may want to sheathe your sword," Jaime said. He felt himself smile but it was a surface expression that he knew did not reach his eyes.

"I'll do that when you've gone on your way, Kingslayer."

"Now, now, Clegane, is that any way to speak to one of our former keepers?"

"Youwere never my keeper."

"Perhaps not," Jaime assented, "but my sister was, and I think that should suffice."

"Does it now?" the Hound snarled, the meaning behind his words quite clear.

"Enough!" Brienne interjected, pulling her sword from its scabbard and urging her horse forward a few steps. "Your Elder Brother told me where you'd gone, Clegane. If he was right about you, then we all want the same thing - for the Lady Sansa to be safe."

"I'd sooner believe that your companion wants to bring Sansa Stark's head back to his sister," Clegane spat. "And as you're with him, I'm not about to trust you, either. Especially not with your sword poking about like that."

"We swore an oath, Clegane," Jaime said. "We told Lady Catelyn that we would bring her daughters to her. You were the last person we know who saw Arya Stark, and now you've got Sansa Stark nipping at your heels, though the gods only know why. Mayhaps we could dismount and put away our swords and have a nice chat?"

"My mother is dead," the girl suddenly said, her Tully blue eyes focused on him and blazing with anger. Her hood had fallen back and though her hair was mostly muddy brown, the auburn roots told its true color. "And I do not believe she would have sent you to find me."

"Well I apologize for her thoughtlessness and I am sorry for her death, but when she released me from my captivity at Riverrun Lady Catelyn did in fact pair me with Brienne here and send us to bring you and your sister Arya back to her."

"Fine." Sansa Stark tossed her hair defiantly. "You've done all you could; you've found me. But as she's gone, and my brother as well - dead at the hands of your pawns the Freys - I'd just as soon continue on my way with Sandor."

"Sandor, is it?" Jaime narrowed his eyes and urged his horse forward, causing the Hound to snarl and spin his nasty destrier around to block the girl. "How informal. What have you two been about, I wonder?" He turned Honor, parading the horse the other way, keeping out of the reach of Sandor's sword but focusing on the girl. "How long have you been together?"

"A...a few weeks," Sansa Stark stuttered.

Brienne was at Jaime's side again, forcing him to still his mount. "My Lady," she said gently. "I must request that you come with us. I do not suggest that you come," she told the Hound, "and I'd rather not fight you. I'm sure Ser Jaime feels the same way."

The Hound began to scoff, but Sansa interrupted him. She rode forward, her peasant's cloak billowing out around her, and it was then that Jaime knew how very much must have happened in just a few weeks' time. He'd not seen Sansa Stark in...in years, now, truthfully. She'd grown taller, filled out, and of course there was that awful dyed hair. But what truly shocked him was how pale and tired she looked. Pale, and tired, yet glowing.

Cersei...she glowed, too. Glowed in her well-rested, well-fed, finely-clothed body...

"We can discuss my going with you, if you insist," Sansa capitulated. "But I cannot leave Sandor. We've been wed, you see." Sandor Clegane made a strangled noise, but she placed a reassuring hand on his arm and smiled up at him. A sweet, sad smile that seemed to be asking Clegane's forgiveness before she faced Jaime and Brienne and spoke again.

"I believe I am with child."