Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews! I'm glad that you're enjoying the story, and the relationship between Jaime and Sansa. The encouragement is very much appreciated!

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Chapter 25

Sansa had walked around the camp of Lannister Soldiers with her handmaiden before retiring to the pavilion she was to share with Jaime. They had traveled deep into the Riverlands and Jaime expected to reach Riverrun the following day. Sansa was able to pass the traveling time rather peacefully. She'd taken to letting out the seams in her gowns, to conceal her small belly, and stitching blankets and clothes for the baby. But it still wore on her to be in a carriage for so long each and every day.

She had thought she would be frightened to be surrounded by so many Lannister soldiers, but they treated her as if she were queen, stopping what they were doing as she passed and standing at attention, nodding to her respectfully. It was nothing like when she was Cersei's prisoner in Kings Landing and the red cloaks had been the enemy. Sansa had to remind herself that Jaime was Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. And she was his wife. These soldiers were now sworn to protect her with their lives as well.

Sansa heard voices as she neared the pavilion. Pia, as well as Jaime's squire, Peck, were following her, carrying spiced wine and rabbit for dinner. When Sansa peeked inside, she saw that Jaime was sitting at the small table with a tall blonde man who had the appearance of a knight. He was very handsome and Sansa was certain that he must be a Lannister. It was likely his cousin who had been made Warden of the East following the Red Wedding. Both men rose to their feet when Sansa entered the tent.

"Sansa, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Jaime said as she entered the tent. He rested his hand on her back as she stood beside him. "My cousin, Ser Devan Lannister, Warden of the East. Cousin, my beautiful bride, Lady Sansa Lannister."

Ser Devan kissed her hand, his eyes moving to Jaime. "I see now why you would ask to be released from your vows to the king. It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady. You are a most welcome addition to our family."

"Thank you, Ser Devan," she said quietly. "I'm very pleased to meet you as well. Jaime speaks very highly of you."

"Will you join us for dinner?" Jaime asked his cousin.

"Thank you, but no. I must return to my men. Enjoy the company of your lovely wife. We'll ride in the morning?"

Jaime nodded, patting his cousin on the back as he left. "How are you?" he asked Sansa, kissing her softly and resting his hand over her stomach. "Both of you," he whispered in her ear.

She smiled covering his hand with her own. "All is well. What…what did Ser Devan have to say?" She knew that Ser Devan was in charge of the standoff in the Riverlands for the Lannisters, and that he must have brought news from Riverrun. Sansa wasn't especially anxious to enter a battlefield on the morrow. Nor did she want Jaime to enter there either.

"Sit down, Sansa, we'll talk over dinner," Jaime said, pulling out her chair while Pia set up their dinner. Jaime dismissed everyone, insisting that he and Sansa would like to be alone for the rest of the night, before settling himself opposite her at the table.

Sansa nervously picked at her rabbit and looked at him expectantly. "What news from Riverrun?"

"Devan's rather annoyed with the Freys and the state of the siege. Your mother's Uncle Brynden sits inside the castle. Have you ever met the Blackfish?"

"I've heard a lot about him but we've never met."

"Yes, well…he's an excellent swordsman. Not that he's been using that skill of late. He sits inside Riverrun – along with your brother's widow and her family - and Lannister and Frey soldiers sit outside, building rams and siege towers, preparing for a battle that never comes. Do you really wish to hear this, Sansa?"

"I do," she said, taking a small sip of spiced wine, feeling the warmth spread through her chest. Sansa wanted to prepare herself for what was going to happen – she'd had enough unpleasant surprises during this war.

"Ryman Frey – a drunken fool by all accounts - has raised a gallows. Every day at dawn he brings forth your uncle Edmure, drapes a noose around his neck, and threatens to hang him unless the castle yields." Sansa tried not to appear shocked, but her eyes must have conveyed her distress. "He's not been hanged – nor will he be," Jaime assured her. "The Blackfish pays Ryman's mummer's farce no mind, and every night, Lord Edmure is taken down again."

She looked up and met his eyes. "What are you going to do when we get to Riverrun?" she asked quietly.

"The Blackfish has provisions to last him two years. We can't very well wait him out. And I'll not have you traveling any longer than necessary, sweet girl. Especially not with our little cub growing inside you," he said in a low voice. They had agreed not to tell anyone of her pregnancy just yet. Jaime had not said it aloud, but she knew he was concerned about her being taken hostage if anyone knew she carried his heir. "I will attempt to treat with him and I mean to offer him generous terms. I have every intention of keeping my promise to you."

"But if he won't agree…you'll have to storm the castle won't you?" she asked.

Jaime took a large swallow of wine. "Come here," he said quietly, holding his hand out to her. She walked over and allowed Jaime to settle her on his lap. "I wish Cersei had not forced my hand, and made us stop here. But the siege does need to end."

She nodded against his shoulder. "I know. I want to go to our home, far away from all of this. You will try not to resort to a battle, won't you?"

"Of course," he said, kissing her cheek. "Now you need to eat some more." Sansa tried to return to her chair, but Jaime held her in place, a smirk on his face as he offered her a bite of food.

Sansa laughed. "You're not actually going to feed it to me?"

He pressed the food against her lips and she opened her mouth, letting him feed her the one bite. "I have to make certain you and the babe are properly nourished," he whispered.

Sansa loved the way he looked at her – as if nothing else in the world mattered to him but her. The way she'd always dreamed her husband would look at her. She had not meant for Jaime to learn of her pregnancy yet, but she was glad that he had figured it out. Especially since it brought him such obvious happiness, and made him even more protective of her. It had not been lost on her that Jaime had doubled her guards since learning that she carried his child.

She stayed on his lap as they fed each other bits of food, and let Jaime hold and cuddle her, making up for the time they had not been able to speak and touch during their travel. She knew that Jaime could not show weakness in front of his men, and his affection for her would likely be considered a weakness. But she treasured the time when they were alone and he could lower the mask of the Lord of Casterly Rock, and show how much he loved her.

...

It was late afternoon when they sighted Riverrun. The Tully castle's sandstone walls were drenched in red-gold light, and seemed higher and thicker than Jaime had remembered. This nut will not crack easily, he thought gloomily. If the Blackfish would not listen to reason, Jaime would have no choice but to break the promise he'd made to Sansa. He wanted to keep his promise, but Sansa's safety – and the safety of the child she carried - was more important to him. And he could not take her safely to Casterly Rock until the siege was over.

The boom across the river and the three great camps of the besieging army were just as his cousin had described. Ser Ryman Frey's encampment was the largest. A great grey gallows loomed above the tents. On it stood a solitary figure with a rope around his neck. Edmure Tully. Jaime felt a stab of pity. To keep him standing there day after day with that noose around his neck…better to have his head off and be done with it.

Jaime chose to raise his camp at the top of the hillside overlooking the keep. He turned to his squire. "Send a peace banner and a message to the castle. Inform Ser Brynden that I would have words with him, at first light on the morrow. I will come to the edge of the moat and meet him at the drawbridge."

Peck looked alarmed. "My lord, the bowmen could…"

"They won't." Jaime dismounted and handed the reigns of his horse to Peck, watching as Sansa made her way towards him. Sansa stood beside him as they waited for their tent to be raised, and he saw her curiously looking over at Riverrun, her eyes focusing on the Direwolf standard of House Stark flying the highest of them all on the top of the castle. He saw a glimmer of tears in her eyes and reached over to take her hand. I expect she hasn't even seen the standard of her house since her father was executed nearly a year ago. "Have you ever been to Riverrun?"

Sansa shook her head. "My mother used to tell me stories about her childhood home, but I've never seen it myself."

"The first time I saw Riverrun, I was a squire." She looked at him in surprise. "Old Sumner Crakehall sent me to deliver a message, one he swore could not be entrusted to a raven. Your grandfather, Lord Hoster, kept me for a fortnight whilst mulling his reply, and sat me beside your aunt Lysa at every meal."

He saw her smile despite herself at the thought of he and her Aunt Lysa together. "And how did you like her?"

Jaime chuckled. "At that age, no girl interested me half so much as Hoster's famous brother, the Blackfish. At the table, I ignored poor Lysa while pressing Brynden Tully for tales of Meslys the Monstrous and the Ebon Prince. I admired him very much. I wanted to be him." Sansa turned her attention back to the view before them, looking at the encampments.

"I've never been this close to a battlefield," she said quietly. She turned to Jaime suddenly and he could see fear in her eyes. "You will be careful, won't you, Jaime?"

"Nothing will happen to me. You have no reason to be scared." Their tent was raised and Jaime escorted Sansa in as his standard was planted in the ground, kissing her once they were alone, trying to reassure her of his safety. He wasn't used to having someone who worried about his safety as much as Sansa did – and he'd certainly never had a woman with him on the battlefield – he wasn't quite certain how to prove to her that he was quite safe. "It shouldn't be long before we receive visitors," he remarked once his standards had been planted.

As Jaime predicted, it was less than ten minutes before they were sought out. "Here you are at last," boomed his Aunt Genna. She filled the door, with her Frey husband peering out from behind her. "Past time. Have you no hug for your old fat aunt?" She held out her arms and left him no choice but to embrace her. As Jaime hugged his aunt dutifully, she planted soft and sloppy kisses on his cheeks. "I am sorry for your loss."

"I had a new hand made – out of gold." He showed her.

"It's very nice. Will they make you a gold father too?" Lady Genna's voice was sharp. "Tywin was the loss I meant. Some odd tales have been reaching us from the capitol of late," Lady Genna said. "A woman hardly knows what to believe. Can it really be true that Tyrion slew Tywin? Or is that some lie your sister put about?"

"It's true enough," Jaime said softly, guilt overcoming him yet again for his role in Tyrion's horrible act. Sansa moved to stand beside him and gently rubbed his arm and took his hand, to comfort him.

Jaime saw Lady Genna focus on Sansa, noting her clear affection for him. "This must be Lady Lannister. Truly, Jaime, I never thought I'd see the day you took a wife, vows or no. He was always more interested in being a great knight than chasing maidens," she explained to Sansa. "Let me have a look at you, sweetling," she said holding her hands out to Sansa.

She looked at Jaime nervously, but he nodded, rubbing his hand over her back to encourage her. He could understand why she would be reluctant to meet yet another Lannister. And his Aunt Genna was not the most calming presence. Sansa slowly moved towards his aunt. "You are quite a beauty. And quite blessed with youth," she said, looking sideways at Jaime. "I suppose you may keep him young. Have you gotten a child on her yet, nephew? It has been nearly five moons since your marriage and now that you are Lord of the Rock, heirs are rather necessary."

Sansa looked at him in alarm, and Jaime rested a hand on her shoulder – knowing his Aunt could not possibly know his little wife was with child. "We have no announcement to make yet, Aunt. I'll be sure to let you know when there is happy news." Sansa was only visibly pregnant because Jaime was so familiar with her body. He had slept with her in his arms, his hand protectively over her belly the night before, when he learned she carried his child.

"I don't expect it's for lack of trying," she said and Jaime smirked to himself as Sansa colored.

Her husband, Lord Emmon, the eldest son of Walder Frey, cleared his throat. "Enough of this talk. Your cousin, Daven means to break my walls, smash my gates. He talks of burning pitch, of setting the castle afire. My castle." He reached up one sleeve, brought out a parchment, and thrust it in Jaime's face. "I have the decree. Signed by the king, by Tommen, see, the royal seal. I am the lawful lord of Riverrun, and I will not have it reduced to a smoking ruin."

"Oh, put that fool thing away," his wife snapped. "So long as the Blackfish sits inside Riverrun, you can wipe your arse with that paper for all the good it does. Jaime will deliver you the castle. Emm, why don't you step outside and have a breath of air?"

"A breath of air?"

"Or a good long piss, if you prefer. My nephew and I have family matters to discuss." Jaime laughed to himself at the shocked expression on Sansa's face at his Aunt's manner of speaking. No sooner was he gone than Lady Genna rolled her eyes. "My lord and master. What was your father thinking, to name him Lord of Riverrun?"

"I imagine he was thinking of your sons."

"I think of them as well. Emm will make a wretched lord. Ty may do better, if he has the sense to learn from me and not his father." She looked around the tent. "Do you have wine?"

Sansa seemed grateful for the errand and found a flagon, pouring a cup for his aunt, before retreating to a chair with her needlework, trying to avoid his aunt's attentions, though he could plainly see she was listening to their conversation.

"Men say that your father never smiled, but he smiled when he wed your mother, and when Aerys made him Hand. And he smiled at your birth, Jaime. I saw that with mine own eyes. You and Cersei, pink and perfect, as alike as two peas in a pod…well, except between the legs. What lungs you had!"

"Hear us roar." Jaime saw Sansa smiling to herself, no doubt thinking about the babe in her belly. "Next you'll be telling me how much my father liked to laugh."

"No. Tywin mistrusted laughter. I promise you, this mummers farce of a siege would not have amused him. How do you mean to end it, now that you're here?"

"Treat with the Blackfish."

"That won't work."

"I mean to offer him good terms."

"Terms require trust. The Freys murdered guests beneath their roof…" she trailed off as she remembered Sansa's presence, and that it was her brother murdered by the Freys, "and you, well, I mean no offense, my love, but you did kill a certain king you had sworn to protect."

"Tell me, Aunt, what would you counsel?" His tone was harsher than he intended, but he was in no mood for having Aerys Targaryen thrown in his face.

"I would never presume to tell you how to fight a war. I know my place…unlike your sister. Is it true Cersei burned the Red Keep?"

"Only the Tower of the Hand. That was quite enough," Jaime said in annoyance.

"Won't you join us, sweetling?" Lady Genna asked Sansa. "I should like to know you, now that you are family." Jaime watched as she reluctantly put her needlework down and walked to the table, sitting close to him. He rested his arm on the back of her chair as she sought comfort from his physical presence. "How old are you, Sansa?"

"Sixteen," Sansa said quietly.

His aunt looked at him pointedly, no doubt calculating the age difference between them in her head. "You have the look of a Tully. This must be difficult for you. Married to the opposite side of the battlefield as your family."

Sansa glanced at Jaime before responding. "Yes. Though, I know it could be much worse. Jaime has been very kind, very loving to me," she said quietly, looking down at her hands. "And I'm very glad to be here with him." He rubbed her shoulder and met his aunt's eyes, hoping she was satisfied.

"My brother was furious when you joined the Kingsguard, Jaime. King Aerys had taken away his heir." She looked at Sansa again. "I expect he was quite happy when Jaime married you. It is a good match. Politically and … personally, from the looks of it." Aunt Genna looked at Sansa carefully. "I know you did not choose this marriage. That your parents did not choose this marriage for you. But I clearly see that you have found a way to be happy with one another. That's more than most find in a marriage between a lord and lady."

Jaime met Lady Genna's gaze. "Sansa and I are very fortunate that my father chose to unite us," he said, rubbing his hand over her arm as Sansa leaned against him.

She smiled. "Your father loved you, Jaime. He would not have wanted you in a marriage that would not bring you happiness. I was only seven when I was betrothed to Emmon, who was fourteen. The only person who dared to speak out against the match was Tywin. A boy of ten. Yet he spoke so fiercely, Father turned as white as milk and Walder Frey was quivering. How could I not love him after that? That is not to say that I approved of all he did, or much enjoyed the company of the man that he became…but every little girl needs a big brother to protect her." She looked at Sansa. "I expect you know that as well, sweetling. Who will protect us now, Jaime?"

Jaime took her hand. "Tywin left a son."

"Aye, he did. That is what I fear the most, in truth."

"Why should you fear?"

"Jaime," she said, "My love, I have known you since you were a babe at Joanna's breast. You smile like Gerion and fight like Tyg, and there's some of Kevan in you, else you would never have worn that white cloak…but Tyrion is Tywin's son, not you. I said so once to your father's face, and he would not speak to me for half a year."

Jaime was stunned at her words.

"You're more Joanna's son, than Tywin's. You do not have your father's desire for power. And you hide it away now, Jaime, but as a boy, you had Joanna's kindness and her sense of duty and honor." Lady Genna rose from the table and considered them both. "Though, you do look at your wife as Tywin looked at Joanna."

After his aunt left them alone, Sansa reached up to touch his face, leaning up to kiss him. "I love you, Jaime," she whispered. "And she's right. We are fortunate that your father chose to marry us to one another. I thank the gods every day for giving you to me."

Jaime smiled as he held her in his arms, resting his head on top of hers. "If I actually prayed, I would certainly thank the gods for you," he whispered as she hit him for his blasphemy.

He couldn't help thinking about his aunt's words and wondered if she was correct. She was right that he didn't desire power as both Tyrion and his father did; and though he'd allowed Cersei to lead him astray for many years, Jaime did believe that he was capable of honor. He met Sansa's big blue eyes, finding her studying him and told himself that he would be an honorable man. For her, and for their child. And for himself.

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Next Chapter: The Blackfish & Edmure Tully make their appearances…