Save Me (And I Will Save You)
By Myriddin

Chapter Ten: Innocence

"Maekar."

"Jaehaerys."

"Baelon."

"Gaemon."

"Aenys."

"Aelyx?"

Jon paused. "I like Aelyx." He hummed thoughtfully. "How about Vahaemorys?"

"Jon!"

He smirked. "What? We could call him Mory for short. Or Ham."

Sansa rolled her eyes, trying her best to look reprimanding. "No one should be that cruel," she stated, struggling to stifle her own smile. As Jon laughed, her efforts to keep up a chastising expression were quickly surrendered, and instead she reveled in the soft sounds of his mirth.

Jon grinned as he idly flipped through the book sitting between them, reclining back comfortably in his chair. "So Cella recruited you into the name game too, huh? I'm glad you too have become such good friends."

"So am I. She's feeling a little frazzled about that fact she's having a boy this time. We had an entire conversation about the how to's of changing a boy's diaper."

"Remember to duck?" He chuckled at the exasperated look she shot him. "Can't blame her after three girls." His face shadowed ever so slightly. "But you noticed she seems a bit bothered, too? I thought maybe it was maybe the pressure of carrying the male heir Aegon has been harping her about forever, but I thought she'd be relieved more than anything else since the doctor confirmed the sex."

Sansa frowned. "Are she and Aegon having problems?"

He snorted. "Beyond the fact they don't even like each other and Aegon can't keep his pants on? Nothing beyond the usual, as far as I know." He shook his head. "Never mind. It's better to focus on the positive, yeah? I'm going to be an uncle again."

"Another nephew," she continued encouragingly, only to cringe as she watched his face fall again. "Jon, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's alright."

"But it's not." She leaned closer, reaching up to cup his cheek as she looked at him with soft eyes. "It's not fair that Robb can keep being such a complete and utter arse that you don't even get to see your own nephews. This grudge he's holding, the way he seems to think that the fact that you and I have been together somehow villifies you for life is stupid and so beyond inappropriate. Besides, it takes two. If I can see Rickard and Torrhen, so should you."

Jon stared at her for a long moment of pure, befuddled wonder. Then he leaned down to press a simple, chaste kiss to her lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now let's talk middle names. Did you know Aelyx means 'protector'? I think that would pair well with Jon."

King's Landing, Summer 2007

Jon remembered his first meeting with Myrcella Baratheon well. From the first time he set eyes on her, his heart ached for her.

That fateful summer when he and Sansa had first become lovers, they managed to arrange a trip for the two of them when Sansa had expressed interest in touring some of the arts colleges in King's Landing. Jon had offered to escort her, his guilt over the deception of how close they truly were outweighed the anticipation of having precious time alone. They did indeed tour the colleges for their first two days there, planning to reserve the weekend for sightseeing. The only downside to the occasion is that Jon's Targaryen relatives had caught wind of his presence in the city and he had somehow been roped into attending the party celebrating Aegon's engagement. Truly, the only reason he went was to see Aemon and his grandmother, neither of whom were getting any younger.

He was honestly surprised Aegon had let himself fall into the trap the rest of their familial generation had fought so hard to get away from. Rhaenys had technically been engaged to Willas Tyrell since childhood, but when Elia had gone back to Dorne ten years before, Rhaenys had gone with her and not been back north since. When Rhaegar and Mace Tyrell tried to press the marital arrangement last year, even sending Willas to Sunspear, both Willas and Rhaenys had refused and ended their engagement themselves. They had come away as friends and as far as Jon knew, Willas was in an on-again, off-again relationship with Rhaenys' cousin, Tyene.

Dany had fought back as well. Jon would have raced back to King's Landing the moment he heard Daenerys was being pushed to date that detestable worm, Joffrey Baratheon, if Dany hadn't already taken matters into her own hands. He had worried incessantly when he heard she had run off with a biker by the name of Drogo and he hadn't thought much of her next choice after Drogo was killed in a shooting. Narrio...Mario, he couldn't remember the bloke's name, just that he'd ended up in prison. Jorah Mormont seemed saintly compared to those two, age difference or not. But the Mormonts were good folk, so despite Jorah's dubious past, the stable life he had provided for Dany and her son, Rhaego, gave Jon an immense sense of relief.

But every choice has a consequence, he remembered, as was presented before him in the form of Myrcella Baratheon, a fresh-faced sixteen, all warm innocence and sweet smiles. His stomach lurched as he imagined that sweetness and innocence smothered by the Targaryen name and Aegon's arrogance.

Every choice had a consequence. Aegon was originally supposed to fulfill the Tyrell contract after Rhaenys refused, and Dany would have been the means to court the powerful Lannister-Baratheon alliance. Neither had happened. Now it appeared Aerys and Rhaegar had cut their losses and gone after the more powerful option through any means necessary.

The whole thing was enough to make Jon physically sick.

"What the hell are you thinking?" was the only thing he could demand of his brother the moment he managed to pull him aside.

Aegon cast a sour look in his younger brother's direction, tearing his arm away from Jon's hold and smoothing the wrinkles out of his jacket sleeve. "What business is it of yours?"

"She's a child, Aegon."

"She's legal. We have parental consent."

"That's beyond the point. You can't honestly be thinking of going through with this."

"I don't have much of a choice in the matter."

Jon's mouth curled in disgust. "I forgot. It's too much to ask for you to make your own decisions."

Aegon snorted derisively. "What would you know about it, bastard?" When Jon bristled at the insult, Aegon smirked smugly, "Isn't this hypocritical, anyway? Or did you think no one knew about that girl you're hiding at Aemon's place?"

Jon's jaw tightened. "Leave her out of this."

"Then don't interfere in things that don't concern you."

Aegon turned to leave and Jon stared after him, narrowing his eyes at his brother's retreating back. "You'll destroy her." His voice was hoarse, choked back with emotion as he found he could feel nothing but dread over what would become of that poor girl's spirit.

Aegon glanced back at him over his shoulder, his expression unreadable as he gazed at his half-brother with blank eyes. "What else is new? This family crushes everyone."

And with that, he disappeared back into the house.

xx

"Have I told you how glad I am that we did this?"

Jon grinned at her comment. "Once or twice, but it's always nice to know."

Sansa leaned forward with a smile to brush her mouth mouth against his, teasing her tongue against his lips. Her ministrations earned a growl from him and when she pulled back, Jon swayed into her, seeking her lips again. Sansa kissed him lightly and then separated from him. "I am. Thank you for arranging it."

"You're welcome." He arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "What were you thinking about before?" he asked, nibbling on a piece of bacon from the half-eaten tray between them, "You seemed distracted."

"Mmm," she hummed dreamily, looking up at him with eyes dancing with hidden thoughts.

The room they were occupying was tucked away in the back of the townhouse where they were staying, graciously offered to them by Jon's Great-Uncle Aemon. Other than the early evenings when they had dinner together, the elderly man tended to leave them to their own devices, leaving plenty of time for the couple to enjoy time alone.

Sansa had awoken this morning by way of the sunlight streaming through the open window, bare skin caressed by the soft breeze coming from the window and wrapped up in sheets where her lover's warmth and scent still lingered. She had lain there languorously until Jon had soundlessly entered the room and gained her attention with caressing fingers skimming up her arm, and a delightful surprise came in the moment when she opened her eyes and smiled at him, wherein Jon presented her with breakfast in bed.

"I was just thinking," Sansa paused to munch on the last few pieces of melon from the bowl beside her. Most of what Jon had brought, a full spread of pancakes, bacon, poached eggs and fruit, had been devoured, leaving only the stray morsels they were still picking at. She almost felt bad about hoarding the remains of the fruit to herself. Watching Jon eat before had been experience, the juice dripping down his stubbled chin to the taut pectorals of his bare chest. She looked forward to exploring that later. "About last night…"

Though he tried to keep his expression still, Jon couldn't help when his lips twitched into a pleased smile. "Oh?"

"Mmm-hmm." She leaned back over to ghost a kiss against his mouth. "As enjoyable as it was, I'm feeling a little guilty."

His brow furrowed with concern. "Guilty? What about?"

Sansa bit her lip guiltily. "Lying. Neither my mom or Uncle Ned would have let us do this if they knew how...close, we've gotten."

Jon gave her a considering look. "Was it worth it?"

"To see you, spend time with you. Absolutely." She coquettishly looked up through her lashes. "I saw plenty of you last night."

"Getting bolder, aren't we?" he teased. "Uncle Ned's head would explode if he knew the main reason behind this trip was for you to have time and space to explore what you like in bed."

"Mmm, still educational in some roundabout way, I think." She cast a glance at the silk ties still knotted to the railings of the bed's headboard. "How are your wrists?"

He gave them an experimental shake, wincing at the soreness the movement caused and giving the faint bruising banding them a rueful glance. "I'll live. It's my own fault anyway. I know better. Struggling just pulls them tighter. I forgot myself." He shot her a pointedly accusing look.

"No need to dance around it," she replied boldly, "You 'forgot yourself' the moment my mouth was around your cock."

"Cheeky." He chuckled. "Have you thought some more about whether you want to try the reverse?"

She hesitated. In the weeks after their first time, most of their explorations were by necessity short and sweet, stolen moments where they couldn't fully afford to get wrapped up in one another. But still, Sansa had discovered small things about her preferences. If anyone had told her a month ago that trust of all things would be such a big turn-on for her, she would have thought them crazy, but that was exactly what made his weight levered over her, firm but gentle hands pinning her arms down, so utterly arousing.

She adored the feel of him, the muscle and the strength, the pure masculinity of his body moving above or below her. The sense of safety and care she felt when he touched her enthralled her, as did the sensation of letting go and knowing that he would never fail to attend to every request, every desire, every need.

That he reversed their roles without hesitation the night before had astonished and delighted her. It lit a fire in her veins to witness his surrender, to see him desperate but trusting, watching him utterly fall apart and knowing she was the one responsible.

She watched the flex of his Adam's apple as he swallowed the last of his juice and remembered a similar reaction the moment her lips had closed around the head of his sex. She licked her lips as he raised his eyes to hers, and she guessed her desire must have been evident by the way his gaze darkened to a near-black. "We could build up to it?"

"Absolutely."

She nipped at his bottom lip, moaning with abandon as he slid his tongue into her mouth, no hesitation present as he quickly set the breakfast tray aside. She buried her hands into his hair, attacking his mouth with fervor as he ran his hands up her thighs, parting her legs to pull her closer to him, urging her to wrap them around his waist.

She obeyed his silent request, legs hooking around his hips just in time to give her balance as he cupped her buttocks, dragging her down. He tugged her to him as he pitched them both to crash forward into the mattress. The new position molded her against his body, all of her within his reach as his hands ran feverishly over her body.

Sansa mewled with pleasure as his pelvis angled into hers, allowing her to feel him hard and wanting against her inner thigh. Suddenly the clothes they had thought it wise to slip into for breakfast were an unwelcome impediment. She had gotten him free of his t-shirt and was pushing down his shorts, Jon rucking her nightdress up to her waist, when a sudden gasp broke through their passionate haze.

"Oh, sorry!"

The couple shot apart as quickly as explosive shrapnel at the unexpected interruption, their eyes darting to the doorway to spot a very mortified Myrcella Baratheon, her face flushed a beet-red as she had slapped a hand over her eyes.

"I am so sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt!"

Though Sansa buried her face in her hands with a helpless moan and Myrcella looking close to hyperventilating in the doorway, Jon, while fairly embarrassed himself, couldn't help but chuckle. He rose from the bed, pulling up his bottoms, and grabbed his t-shirt from the floor. "It's alright, Myrcella. We can go out to the other room."

Though still blushing heavily, Myrcella removed her hand from her face and gave him a nod, casting one last glance at Sansa before scurrying off to the other room. After she left, Jon sat on the edge of the bed, regarding his lover with a mixture of amusement and exasperation as he found her practically cocooned in the blankets. He gently pulled down the sheet, revealing her disheveled head of auburn hair and the sheepish smile she gave him once exposed. "Why are you shy all of a sudden? If I remember right, you were the one jumping me last night."

She flushed, nestling her head against his shoulder to hide her face against the fabric of his shirt. "Don't know. It's different when it's just us, I guess." She glanced up at him shyly. "Sorry," she mumbled, feeling uncomfortably like the blushing virgin she hadn't been in weeks.

He smiled, "It's alright. It's cute." He dropped a kiss to her forehead, standing once more. "I'll go see what she wants."

She nodded and he gave her a smile, before leaving the room to find his inquisitive blonde visitor standing in the nearby sitting room, looking at the antiques and knickknacks Aemon had displayed there.

"So what is it you need?"

Myrcella jumped at the sound of his voice, her head whirling around. She studied him standing at the edge of the hallway, leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest- hair mussed, clothes wrinkled but much more modest than the eyeful she'd received earlier, his expression questioning but friendly.

"I…I wanted to talk to you…I…um…"

At first, she was discomforted by his complete lack of resemblance he had to her fiance, having geared herself up in a familiar fashion to deal with a Targaryen. But after a moment, those differences were comforting rather than strange. His dark, rugged looks made his handsomeness more accessible than the others' off-putting Valyrian looks. That, and the more mature, settled look to his face, the gentle, thoughtful air about him, were more than Aegon could ever hope to achieve. He smiled at her and she visibly relaxed.

"I-I am sorry, again. I shouldn't have walked in like that…Aemon said it was alright, but-" She flushed as she realized how ridiculous that statement sounded when spoken aloud. "I really should have knocked first."

Jon waved his hand dismissively, "Don't worry about it. No harm was done. Though Sansa might take a while to get over her embarrassment."

"Sansa? Was that the woman with you?"

He nodded. "Yeah. That's her. If you stick around a bit and she finally gets over being so embarrassed, you can meet her. I think you'd like her.

There was a soft, contented look to his face as he spoke of his Sansa and the more his smile grew, the harder she found it to fight her own. Eventually, she grinned at his besotted expression, commenting knowingly, "You love her."

She clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified she had said something so audacious to a near-stranger but Jon only laughed. The sound was soft and pleasant, she rather liked it.

"I do," he replied, "Very much." He settled himself into a nearby armchair, motioning for her to do the same. "So not to be rude, but what is it you wanted to talk about, Myrcella?"

She sat on the couch across from him. "I saw you and Aegon the other day. I wasn't eavesdropping or anything, but your body language was rather obvious."

His expression hardened a little, but she had a fair idea it wasn't about her, but rather the subject of conversation and he nodded for her to continue. "I know you don't get along well with your dad's family and the idea of me marrying Aegon makes you really uncomfortable…But I have to ask you not to get involved."

A look of pure surprise passed over his face and she sighed, looking down, "You seem like a good man, Jon, and I really appreciate how worried you seem to be about me, but I'm worried about you too if you get mixed up in this. I don't want to see you get hurt just because you were concerned."

She glanced up, giving him a wan smile. "I might not look it, Jon, but I'm a big girl. I know what I'm getting into. I know Aegon's type. I've been expecting this for years. It just comes from being who we are." She bit her lip uncertainly. "If you don't mind, though, I'd really like us to be friends. Personally, I think you're the best this family has to offer."

Jon's awestruck expression soon melted into a warm smile and a muffled chuckle as he stepped forward and pulled her up, drawing her into a friendly embrace. "You're one of a kind, Myrcella Baratheon. I can't think of anyone I'd rather have as a sister-in-law."

Her face lit up as she drew back enough to look up at him. "Thank you."

He nodded, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Myrcella met his eyes, saw their soft look, and wondered at the warmth of the brotherly gesture, the likes she'd never seen from her own. Certainly not from Joffrey, and Tommen was still young enough for cuddles and kisses to be acceptable. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Jon asked her solemnly.

"Want to? No. Need to? Yes. I'm a Lannister, Jon. I've been destined for this since I was born. I'm not a bride- I'm a business merger."

He smiled sadly. "I'll stay out of it, but I want you to be careful, Myrcella. I'll be here if you need me, alright?"

"Alright."

They drew apart and Sansa chose that moment to poke her head curiously around the corner, looking a bit more settled in a clean pair of jeans and what looked to be one of Jon's shirts, knotted at the waist. Her hair was hastily combed and pulled back into a messy bun. "Jon?"

Jon looked over, his face lighting up as he motioned for her to join them. She stepped forward uncertainly, leaning into her lover's side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, meeting the curious eyes of the newcomer she'd only been briefly exposed to.

Myrcella held out a hand to her, smiling hesitantly. "Myrcella Baratheon."

Sansa returned the gesture, shaking her hand, and as a more relaxed, confident look that settled over Myrcella's features, she smiled warmly. "Sansa Stark. I'm glad to meet you, Myrcella."

"You too."