Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story - it definitely helps motivate me to work on upcoming chapters!

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Chapter 14

Jaime watched as his father's guards escorted Sansa from the Throne Room, Tommen clinging to her for comfort. He and Sansa had not left the wedding feast for even an hour and it had gone from joyous to deadly. He looked down at the dead king. My blood. My firstborn. My son. Jaime felt curiously calm. Men were supposed to go mad with grief when their children died, he knew. They were supposed to tear their hair out by the roots, to curse the gods and swear vengeance. So, why do I feel so little? As he looked at Joffrey, lying dead on the floor of the throne room, all he could think was that the boy would never hurt or scare Sansa again.

Jaime walked over to his father, as Cersei continued to insist that Tyrion was to blame for Joffrey's death and to demand that the Kingsguard take him into custody. "Father, you can't allow her to do this," Jaime said in a low voice. "She means to execute him. She'll listen to you."

Lord Tywin coldly surveyed the scene before him. "Guards, take him to one of the tower cells –"

"He should be taken to the black dungeons," Cersei hissed in vengeance.

Lord Tywin ignored her. "As I said. A tower cell. Now."

Jaime could not believe what he was witnessing. He had always known that his father had little use for Tyrion. He saw that Lord Tywin, like Cersei, blamed Tyrion for Lady Joanna's death. But Jaime could not fathom that he had so little care for Tyrion that he would see him imprisoned and executed. He surveyed the room and knew that he could never stop the Kingsguard from taking Tyrion into custody. Before he lost his hand, maybe, but not now.

Tyrion must have seen that Jaime was thinking about doing something rash, and shook his head. "I'll be fine, Jaime. We'll sort this out in the morning."

"You will not be fine. I will see you dead," Cersei spit out.

"That's enough," Tywin said. "Take him away." Jaime watched helplessly as Tyrion was escorted from the room by the Kingsguard and Cersei gloated. Lord Tywin turned to Jaime. "The king's justice will be done."

The king's justice. "You would execute your own son?"

"He stands accused of regicide and kinslaying. If he is innocent, he has nothing to fear. First we must consider the evidence for and against him. Then we will decide what is to be done."

Evidence. In this city of liars, Jaime knew what sort of evidence Cersei would turn up. What sort of evidence she would pay and threaten for.

"There is nothing to be done but to take his head," Cersei urged, rage swirling in her eyes.

Lord Tywin barely looked at her, urging Grand Maester Pycelle to come over to examine Joffrey's body. "Jaime, escort your sister to her chambers."

"No, Father. I must begin speaking to the witnesses," she protested.

Lord Tywin glanced back, looking past Cersei to Jaime. "Take your sister to her chambers."

Jaime took her arm to lead her to her chambers, choking down his anger at her actions toward Tyrion. He had to stay calm if he had any hope of reasoning with her and helping his brother. Cersei was eerily silent the entire walk to her chamber, not saying a word until they entered her bedchamber. Once the door closed behind them, Cersei's eyes filled with tears and she began to weep. She clung to him, crying for their dead son. Jaime held her in his arms, stroking her hair and comforting her. She is my sister. And she's in pain. It's not wrong to comfort her. His sister seldom wept except when she was with him. She could not stand for others to think her weak. Only to her twin did Cersei show her wounds.

Cersei tilted her head up, meeting his eyes. "You'll kill him for me, won't you? You'll avenge our son?"

Jaime moved away from her. "Even if he did this, and I don't believe he did, Tyrion is still my brother." He shoved his golden hand in her face, in case she had forgotten. "And I am in no fit state to kill anyone."

"You have another hand, don't you? I am not asking you to best the Mountain in battle. Tyrion is a dwarf, locked in a cell. The guards would stand aside for you."

The thought turned his stomach. Jaime had never before seen the depth of her hatred for Tyrion. He knew she took pleasure in taunting him – she had their entire lives. And it had always fallen to Jaime to protect Tyrion from her cruelty. "He knew Joffrey was mine. He would not have killed him."

"You didn't even see what happened. I did. He served Joffrey poisoned wine in front of a thousand guests. He cannot deny it."

"You don't know that it was poison. It looked as if the boy choked."

Cersei shook her head defiantly. "No. The gods would not be so cruel, it was poison. It was Tyrion. Joff was…joking with Tyrion but I could see the anger in that little beast's eyes."

"Joking? What was he doing? Was Joffrey "joking" as he was when he said he wanted to serve Sansa her brother's head at his wedding feast? That kind of joking?"

"You don't even care that he's dead, do you?" Cersei said suddenly. "He was your son."

"He was my seed. He never called me Father. You warned me a thousand times never to show any undue interest in them. And now…I don't feel about them as a father should. Robert was their father."

"I only did that to keep them safe! You as well. How would it have looked if my brother had played the father to the king's children?" She took his arm, pressing her body against him. "You saw, Jaime. You saw how horribly he died. Joff was so scared and in so much pain and I couldn't do anything to make it better. Tyrion did this, I know it. Your little wife probably helped him." Jaime knew his sister well enough – knew how she thought – that he knew exactly what she was driving at, bringing up Sansa. "She and Tyrion hated Joffrey, the both of them."

With good reason. He was a little monster. "Sansa was with me when it happened. She was with me every moment today. Sansa had nothing to do with his death. I will not allow you to use Joffrey's death as an excuse to lash out and kill everyone you don't care for."

Jaime thought about Sansa's words to him before everything went to hell. He had known that Sansa was in love with him, but to hear her say the words…Jaime had not known how to react. For one mad moment, he wanted to tell her that he loved her too. That she meant more to him than any woman ever had. More than Cersei even. He felt like a fool, allowing the words of this teenage girl to cause such emotions to churn within him. He had been afraid to respond to her at all, for fear of crazy, desperate declarations of love spilling from his lips.

"Why weren't you there? You left Joff's wedding feast. Why? Where were you and Sansa?"

He knew better than to tell her that he was making love to Sansa in the hallway when their son began to die. "It doesn't matter where we were, the point is, she had nothing to do with Joffrey's death."

Her eyes narrowed. "You were fucking her, weren't you? Get out. I will see Tyrion dead. I will get justice for our son – for Joffrey – even if you won't. Don't you dare try to stop me."

"Cersei, I don't believe Tyrion did this."

"Think what you will. Soon Ser Ilyn will have his head off. Perhaps you'd like it as a keepsake?" She held open the door, effectively ordering him out. Jaime had never hated her more than he did in that moment. The urge to wrap his hands around her neck and wring the life out of her overcame him and he forced himself to leave before he found himself in a cell of his own for kinslaying. I won't allow her to kill Tyrion. No matter what I have to do.

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Sansa was curled up on the bed she shared with Jaime, waiting for him to return to their bedchamber. She hoped that he would be able to do something for Tyrion. There had been such hatred in Cersei's eyes. Sansa couldn't stop thinking about Margaery's warning to her in the days before the wedding, and the look they'd exchanged as Joffrey lay dead on the floor. There was no doubt in Sansa's mind that Margaery - or perhaps her wily grandmother - had something to do with Joffrey's death. Not Tyrion. Sansa heard the door to the bedchamber open and turned, relief flooding her as Jaime entered the room and bolted the door behind him.

"Well, Cersei outdid herself. Seventy-seven courses and a regicide, never a wedding like it." He sat beside her on the bed, slowly removing his boots.

"What happened to Tyrion," she asked quietly. "You won't let her kill him, will you?"

"My father had him taken to a tower cell. It's a room, not a dungeon," he assured her, seeing her stricken expression. "There may have to be a trial. Regardless of the outcome, I won't allow my brother to be executed."

She nodded, reaching to unlace his doublet. "A few days before the wedding, Margaery…Jaime, she told me that I should be sure to stay by your side for the entire wedding feast. I think…I think she may have had something to do with Joffrey's death," she whispered quietly, as she removed his doublet and began unlacing his tunic.

Jaime tilted her chin up so she met his eyes and looked at her very seriously. "Do not repeat that to anyone, do you understand? The Tyrells will not allow you to accuse her."

"But Tyrion – "

"I'll see to Tyrion, don't worry. I'm not going to allow you to endanger yourself."

"Jaime," she began, very quietly. "I don't feel sad about him dying…I only feel relief."

"You shouldn't feel sad, Sansa. Joffrey was a monster. He deserved to die." She curled up in his arms. She could hear the sadness in his voice, though she didn't know if it was because Joffrey was gone or for how horribly he had turned out. Jaime lowered his head and kissed her. "If Joffrey had dared to touch you again, I would have killed him myself." He kissed her again, deeper, and pulled her onto his lap. "I suppose it's wrong for me to speak that way about my own kin," Jaime murmured. "Cersei asked me to kill Tyrion for her. To avenge Joffrey. Her son." Sansa rested her head against his chest, knowing it hurt him to be caught between his brother and his sister. She couldn't stand Cersei, but she knew that Jaime loved his sister. "She was so angry to realize I don't mourn Joffrey as she does."

He was talking more to himself than to her, but something about his words made her want to ask about his relationship with Cersei. She thought back to Tommen's face when she'd left him at his room, and how much he looked like Jaime. Sansa could feel her insides churning as she tilted her head up to see his face and said the words. "Is it true that … was Joffrey your son?"

She could see on his face that the answer was yes. That he wished she had never asked him the question. Jaime slowly met her eyes. "Yes. Tommen and Myrcella as well," he whispered. "Joffrey was my blood, and I suppose I should feel something for him, but I don't. Perhaps I am the monster they claim. If the Father Above came down to offer me back my son or my hand, I know which I would choose."

Sansa felt like she couldn't breathe. I told him I love him. I do love him. Joffrey's father. She moved off of his lap, trying to process what he said. She had always known it was possible, from the moment they were betrothed, but as she spent time with him and let him into her heart, she dismissed it as lies. And now, to hear it was true – that Jaime and Cersei were lovers - cut her to her very core. That monster who stripped me and beat me, who killed my father – that monster came from Jaime. She saw Jaime reach for her and moved out of his grasp and away from him.

"Please don't." She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to slow her breathing. She knew it was hurting her so much because of how she felt about him. The thought of him touching Cersei as he touched her tore at her heart. "Did you imagine I was her? When you were…bedding me? Did you lie here wishing it was her naked in your arms instead of me?" She had started at a whisper, her voice growing stronger and stronger as the words tumbled out of her. Sansa could see the pain on his face but she couldn't stop herself.

He tried to reach for her again, but pulled his hand back when she flinched away from him. "I never imagined you were anyone but exactly who you are. I never wished you were someone else, Sansa." He walked around the bed towards her and knelt in front of her. "My whole life I've never…I've never been with any woman, but you and…and her." Sansa felt her stomach twist at his words and focused her attention on her hands, folded tightly in her lap.

"I've loved Cersei my whole life." Sansa hated herself for the tears that filled her eyes and the sob she choked back at his words. She saw his hand hover over hers as Jaime struggled against the impulse to touch her. "It was the thought of being with her again that helped me survive the agony of losing my hand. The torture and cruelty…I came here for her. And I went to her and she was…fucking Osmond Kettleblack. I've been faithful to her my whole life and she…"

Sansa could see that Cersei's betrayal hurt Jaime, but she had no intention of comforting him for the unfaithfulness of his sister. "I went to find Tyrion and on my way, I saw you. Stripped naked and being beaten on Joffrey's orders. I saw the shame in your eyes and the cruelty in his face and I had to protect you. I knew what you were feeling – alone, surrounded by cruel strangers."

Sansa struggled not to fall into his arms, weeping, as the tears rolled down her face at his words. "And when I took you back to your chamber, you touched me, so gently, despite all of your pain. And then, I saw how special you are. How kind you are. Do you know what Cersei did the first time she saw this," he said, angrily pulling off the golden hand and holding his stump in front of her. "The disgust on her face? I loved her my whole life and the second I was less than perfect…"

After a brief silence, Sansa slowly raised her head and met his eyes. She could see tears in his eyes as well, threatening to fall at any moment. "My father died because of you and the queen, didn't he? I never understood why he would say that Joffrey was not the rightful king. It's because he was your son, not King Robert's. That's why, isn't it? He knew the truth and Cersei took him prisoner and Joffrey killed him."

Jaime tried to take her in his arms. She knew he wanted to comfort her, but she rose from the bed and moved away from him. "After he took my father's head, your son made me go up to the gates with him. And he made me stare at it. My father's head. I tried to look away and he had the Kingsguard force me to look. It's because of your son that I can barely remember what my father looked like. I can only remember a tarred head on a spike."

Part of her wanted to let Jaime comfort her, as he clearly desired to do, but Sansa couldn't allow him to do it. Not now. Not knowing that he was Joffrey's father. Not knowing that he was Cersei's lover. "I don't defend him, Sansa. He got what he deserved."

"Are you really going to help Tyrion? Or are you letting Cersei do as she wishes with him because she's your lover?"

Jaime slowly moved towards her and Sansa tried to stay away, but he wrapped an arm around her waist and forced her to look at him. "I haven't been with her since before I left King's Landing, all those months ago. I've broken a lot of vows in my life, but I won't break a single vow that I made to you; and I haven't. I swear to you, Sansa. I've been faithful to you and always will. Cersei and I are done."

At that moment, more than anything, she wanted to leave Kings Landing. To get far away from Cersei. "You promised we would leave here after the wedding." She looked at Jaime uncertainly, not knowing if she really wanted to be alone with him in Casterly Rock. His eyes had not left her face and he still held her against him. I wonder if Tommen will still come with us? He'd have me play mother to his bastard and not even tell me. Sansa placed her hand on his chest, stepping away from him. "The wedding's over. When can we leave?"

Jaime sighed. "We have to stay for a while. For the funeral…for Tyrion."

He's right. Tyrion needs help. She nodded, sitting on the bed, her back to him. "I don't want to talk anymore tonight. I just want to go to sleep." She was overwhelmed and needed to lie still and think. She heard Jaime moving around behind her – probably taking off his clothes – before he got into bed. Sansa took a deep breath before pulling back the bedclothes and lying on the edge of the bed. She wanted to crawl into Jaime's arms and pretend that she didn't know about him and Cersei, but she couldn't.

She thought about how Jaime made love to her, and imagined him doing the same things to Cersei. She felt a burning hatred for Cersei, the likes of which she'd never experienced and realized that it was jealousy. She's why Jaime will never love me. Because he'll always only love her. She gave in to the pain and cried into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound. She felt Jaime move closer to her and move his hand over her hair. She hated herself for leaning into his touch. "Please don't touch me. Not right now."

He moved his hand away, but his body stayed where it was, and he slept right next to her, the warmth of his body a comfort to her, though she would never admit it to anyone. Sansa felt so alone. There was no one she could talk to about the torrent of thoughts and emotions churning through her head. How am I going to do this? How can I get through the rest of my life married to him, knowing that he fathered Joffrey with his sister? How am I going to have his children, knowing they could turn out like Joffrey? And knowing he will never love me?

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Sorry for the drama, and for having to pain Sansa like that, but she had to find out sooner or later. Next Chapter: Jaime goes to see Tyrion