I apologize if this chapter is a bit slower, it contains one very important conversation that is necessary to the story!

Chapter 21

"Did you enjoy your swim, Ser Jaime?" a sweet voice sang out from the door. Jaime turned, dropping the towel he had been using to dry his hair. Jaime was dressed only in fresh trousers, he had yet to don his tunic and breastplate. He spun around to see Margaery striding towards him, clearly not embarrassed by his indecency.

"Hasn't your septa ever told you that it isn't proper to enter a man's room uninvited?"

Margaery shrugged, smiling coyly. "But you wouldn't deny your queen, would you, Ser?" She sat down on his bed, absently twirling a deep chestnut curl around her finger. "Besides," she laughed, "I'm not here for you. Just hours before my wedding day!" Margaery gasped in mock astonishment.

Jaime rolled his eyes at the "innocent" future-queen. There was nothing child-like about her, from the way she dressed to her manner of speaking. "If you're not looking to get fucked then I suggest you either leave or help me." Again, Margaery mockingly gasped at his word-choice. But he knew that there was no true danger, the pretty rose herself seemed to admire having a match to her games.

She rose, curls bouncing, to hand Jaime his tunic. He watched her eyes roam obviously over his bare chest before pulling the silk over his head. "I think you know why I'm here," she said quietly.

The girl certainly likes her games. "No idea."

Margaery smiled, holding up his breastplate. "I know about this morning."

Jaime held his breath, his body tensing. "If you saw—"

"What I saw is no concern of yours. It's what I know. What my grandmother knows. And we want to help."

Jaime turned to face her in shock. Margaery continued, ignoring his reaction as she reached up to buckle his breastplate. "My grandmother knows that no good will come from this match with Littlefinger. He's far too clever to be allowed such a pawn in this game." She stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder until she stood by his ear. "You must get her away tonight, Jaime. After the feast. I am afraid that it is already too dangerous, but we must try. The plan is rather precarious, you see. There are many pieces involved, and not everyone will be glad of the outcome. And if one were to fail…"

He answered her questioning eyes. "I will not fail. I made a promise long ago to the Stark girl."

Margaery smiled, squeezing his arm. "We know."

She turned, hips swaying as she walked away. "Oh, and Jaime," she called, not looking back. "Make sure she wears the blue necklace." As if sensing his confusion, she added, "Don't worry, she will know the one."

There was a soft knock at her door. "Come in," she called. Sansa had just finished re-curling her hair in preparation for the ceremony. Fear coursed through her as loud footsteps approached. Please, not Littlefinger.

"It's nice to see you so soon, Lady Sansa." Relief washed over as she recognized Jaime's playful voice. She turned to see him, now donning gleaming golden armor to match his hand. He was grinning as a light blush spread helplessly over her cheeks.

"As am I, Ser Jaime." Sansa curtsied, playing along despite her embarrassment. She had worried that their next meeting would be rather awkward, but Jaime seemed his normal self.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ok. That you're feeling alright." His grin was gone, replaced by genuine concern.

"It hurt a little," she started, and saw a worried look cross his face before hurriedly continuing. "But that was to be expected. Everything else…it was perfect, Jaime. You were perfect." Sansa walked up to him, pulling is face down to meet hers with a tender kiss. "Perfect," she breathed out, earning a satisfied chuckle as Jaime wrapped an arm around her waist, tickling her ribs.

"For me as well," he sighed into her hair before releasing her. Jaime stepped back, appraising her.

"It's for the ceremony," she said, looking down at her lilac gown.

"I suits you, my lady. But where are your jewels? Perhaps a nice blue"

My jewels? Sansa glanced up curiously. Since when did he care about such things?

Jaime responded quickly. "It's just that with nothing to distract me…I can't help but do this." He stepped towards her, lightly peppering kisses along her exposed chest. Sansa giggled at his playfulness, swatting him away.

"Ok, ok, I'll put something on!" Sansa rummaged through her vanity before spotting a flash of blue. She upturned the vial, letting the contents spill into her palm. It was the strange gift she had received along with the dagger so long ago.

Sansa walked over to the looking glass and watched as Jaime approached from behind, taking the pendant from her hand. He gently swept back her hair, exposing her neck. Sansa remained perfectly still as Jaime silently did the clasp, lowering the jewel to settle between her breasts. From the looking glass she could see as he lightly kissed her exposed neck, sending sparks racing to every finger and toe.

"There, now you're ready." He stepped back, clasping his hands behind his back. "Now then, Lady Sansa. Would you care to be escorted to this wonderful display of true love?"

"Jaime, you know it wouldn't be proper to be seen walking in without my…husband. He is surely waiting for me."

Jaime sighed, jokingly with only a whisper of true disappointment. He held out an arm. "Well, my lady. Then I shall escort you to your door."

Sansa nodded before taking his arm. For just the few steps between the far wall and the door, Sansa could take pleasure in their short-lived fantasy.

Thank you so much for reading, I truly appreciate every follow, favorite, and review. It inspires me that much more to write so quickly. The story is nearing its end, unfortunately. Please let me know (after I post the last chapter) if you think I should write a sequel, start a new story, or maybe even continue this one in a part 2. Just something to start thinking about!