Previously on PotG: Sansa and Steffon got to know each other and Nathalia smacks some sense on Robb Stark's face. Literally.
Chapter 27 Supper from Seven Hells
*Jaime Lannister*
His father comes up with the most ridiculous requests. However, this one tops the list. What more could be ghastly than eating sour pork and drinking spiced wine with his beloved family, Sansa, and Steffon? Somebody should just run a blade through his heart now just so he doesn't have to go through fake pleasantries and smiles hiding cut-throat attitude. Tyrion had already vowed that he would get roaring drunk so he would be no help. Sansa would most likely be keeping quiet for the sake of not getting in Cersei's nerves more. Steffon would spend the night praising Tywin for his win to continue playing his role as a willing soldier helping the Lannister family win the war. Really, all Jaime has to do is pretend all his attention is directed at his twin sister.
"I'll be taking my leave as soon as that wretched meal is over," Steffon arrives inside his bedchambers unannounced and looking bored.
Jaime, polishing his favorite sword, smirks at the helper. "Isn't there something you can do using your omnipotent given powers?"
The sound of amused laughter echoes, "Your father makes the most ludicrous requests,"
"It's the first time he has requested something like this—he normally doesn't care about these kinds of petty nonsense," This is the truth. Tywin Lannister has given himself the reputation of cold indifference when it comes to banquets or feasts.
Steffon pauses from roaming around the large room. "Do you think he noticed something?"
The handsome Lannister purses his lips in thought as he replayed his heated arguments with his father. Other than shaming him for allowing other people to think that he needed saving, there is not much mystery in Tywin Lannister's invitation to dinner. "I think not,"
"Good. Let's keep it that way," Sometimes, Jaime forgets that he is older than the helper. A comfortable silence follows their conversation. It still surprises Jaime how Steffon and Nathalia have persuaded Robb Stark to 'give' his greatest prisoner freely back to the Lannister's. How could they have easily believed that Jaime would be spying for them? Of course, it helped that Steffon accompanied him. Still, it proves how the northerners have much faith on the helpers' decisions in battle tactics. Jaime can't blame them. Nathalia is very clever.
He studies Steffon's glowing outline as the helper passes through the large window. The young man has established himself as one of Jaime's favorite people. There is nothing malicious about the way Steffon constantly calls him out on his false actions. It was just genuine concern. Jaime hopes that this season's games would not change the helper. Nathalia certainly has not changed.
"Lady Sansa is quite the beauty, is she not?" There is one thing that annoys Jaime. Ever since arriving in King's Landing, there is not a conversation where the Lady Sansa has not been mentioned by the helper.
"She's betrothed, Steffon. Stop thinking about it." There is an edge in his words.
"Not anymore, Lannister. Joffrey let her go for that tart, Margaruite, remember?"
Jaime stops from polishing his sword. She's betrothed. Those are the words he had often repeated to himself when his thoughts linger too long on the subject of claiming her for himself. He wonders if he should make a proposition for his father to marry Sansa. "It's Margaery," He says instead. No no, he's too young, Jaime.
"Hmm, I don't care anyways," The helper lifts his foot on one of the small chairs. He swipes his hand on the smooth surface of the wall to remove the nonexistent specks of dust. "Robb Stark would be happy to hear that his sister is released from her 'vows',"
"And would be devastated to learn that the younger of his sisters is still missing," His sword gleams magnificently under the rays of the sun. He places it carefully back on its sheath when he is satisfied that it has been pampered enough. "She's not leaving until she knows Arya's safe,"
Steffon wipes his hands on his boots. Hmm..should Jaime speak with the maids for not cleaning his room spotless? "Yes, she told me that this morning when we were walking in the gardens."
A frown sweeps Jaime Lannister's face. The gardens. He remembers when he was the one constantly accompanying Sansa. Since when did Steffon take his position? "You're always with her,"
"Jealous, Lannister?" Jaime does not need to look at Steffon to know that the helper's smiling mischievously. "I'll be leaving soon. I'm sure you'll be happy to take my place,"
Jaime scoffs in annoyance. There is no way he'll be conversing with Steffon about Lady Sansa.
"Look at me, Lannister." Steffon's voice drops a few octaves; he walks closer to where Jaime's sitting. Jaime, a bit surprised by the sudden seriousness of the helper, looks up. Steffon, debating whether or not he should breech this subject with his friend, regards him carefully. "Do you care for Sansa Stark?"
"Of course I do! Why else would I be protecting her?"
"No," Steffon, releasing an amused sort of laugh, shakes his head. "That's not what I meant and you know it."
Jaime, feeling the pressure to prove that he's physically more menacing than Steffon, stands up. Now he's looking down on Steffon. Better. "Are we really gossiping like whores in a brothel? Are you collecting secrets now?"
"Your words, not mine," Steffon raises both hands in mock surrender while following Jaime out the chamber. "You've answered my question with another question. Does that imply that you do have feelings for her?"
Feeling a bit annoyed, Jaime shushes him whilst looking around the empty hall to see if anyone heard the big-mouthed helper. Their footsteps echo loudly until there is no sound left but the rustling of the peaceful trees. "Be careful, Steffon. You never know if one of my sister's minions is listening."
Steffon rolls his eyes. For a moment, Jaime muses on how much the helper could look like a Lannister is he had green eyes like him. "Good. If your viper sister knows that you like Sansa, then maybe she'll be too afraid to go after the lovely lady because she's more afraid of losing you,"
Jaime shakes his head, "My sister does not love me that much,"
"There's a large possibility of my theory to be proven a fact,"
Jaime opens his mouth reply but stops himself as soon as he sees Sansa Stark. Sansa Stark is a vision in a dark red silk dress. In his manliness' defense, he knows that it's silk because of how many times he has undressed his twin wearing a similarly clothed gown.
"If you're not attracted to her, you're a fool." Steffon pats him on the chest, skips towards the young lady, and kisses her outstretched hand. Something the helper says makes her giggle delightedly.
Jaime admits: he's annoyed. Not with Steffon, but with himself. Since when had his life been all about this striking young woman? He feels like a pedophile just imagining her underneath him writing in pleasure.
Still, he cannot help his thoughts from coming out of his mouth. "You look beautiful, young wolf."
He feels pleasure from her blush. At least his charm still works on her. "Thank you, Ser Jaime."
"Escort her towards the dining chambers, Lannister. I have some business to take care of first. The guest of honor will be arriving fashionably late," Winking mischievously, Steffon walks away in the other direction.
Sansa stares at him as silence descended upon them both. He knows she's studying him but says nothing of it. He hopes that the months of imprisonment did nothing drastic to his features. For the first time, Jaime is hoping that he looks as regal as he always did when he was her age. He wonders if she wonders about him as he does—romantically, he means.
"Did my brother hurt you?" This is the first time since his arrival that they are alone. Natasha and Shae must have left her to be escorted.
Jaime gives her a small grin, "He tried," He offers his arms as they begin to walk slowly along the halls of the castle.
Sansa rolls her eyes, "He defeated and imprisoned you so he must have did,"
His rambunctious laughter echoes loudly, "You've definitely mastered the tongue of a spirited woman,"
She's smiling at him when he looks down on her. Despite her growth, he's still at least half a foot taller than her. Her smile has certainly changed. It is not of the hopeful, naïve girl she once was. Now, it is full of repressed happiness—hidden in the hopes of appearing more invisible. Jaime does not know whether he likes this new change or not.
"Your brother did everything he could to save both of you; he even considered exchanging me for you and Arya!" Despite his small annoyance with the young king of the north, Jaime could not speak ill of her brother in front of Sansa. Even then he does not have one complain except the forbiddance of daily washing. "Although he did scare me with his direwolf. The beast almost ate me alive!"
"Grey Wind is not a beast!" Sansa slaps his arm.
Jaime catches her hand with his and laces their fingers together, "In that moment, he was."
"I'm sorry," Her arm that was wrapped in his is now on his chest. Jaime's throat restricts as her soft touches sends jolts of electricity through his armor.
"Tis not your fault, Sansa." Jaime could not help his hands from touching her waist.
Her grip tightens on his chest and Jaime concludes that she will pull away soon to prevent rumors. He did not expect her hand to travel from his chest, to the nape of his neck, then finally to his face. "If only my brother knows how gentle and kind you are right now,"
No, young wolf. You cannot feel this way about me. I almost killed your brother because he found me and my twin in a compromising position. "I'm only like this with you."
` Sansa sighs, "I should feel special, then?"
Jaime chuckles and brings her hand close to his mouth so he can bestow a short kiss on her snowy skin. "Your brother can hardly believe that you're the Stark girl I kept on talking about. He thought I lured Arya with my combat skills,"
Instead of laughing, Sansa pulls away from him. Immediately, Jaime realizes his mistake. Before he could take her back, she turns around and gazes longingly at the open window. Ah, Arya is the reason for her decision to stay. If the youngest Lady Stark had not run away, Sansa would be safe with her family now. "There has been no news of her yet. I'm beginning to worry."
Jaime's armor crackles as he walks closer to her. He places a hand on her bare shoulder—ignoring the heat emanating from the skin to skin contact. "She's probably doing well, Sansa. Your sister is tough and cunning—a bit too much for her age though"
He feels accomplished with the small giggle that escaped from her mouth.
"You tease her too much for it," Sansa retorts. "She isn't very fond of you because of your cockiness."
Cockiness? Interesting choice of words. "She wasn't the Stark girl that I wanted to please, anyway." He doesn't have to look at her to know she's blushing. "I've been telling the truth since I got here—I have missed you, Lady Sansa."
"More so than your twin?"
"Twin?" At the determined look on Sansa's face, Jaime knows why she's making such digs, "You've heard of the rumors?"
Sansa could only nod. Her body stance is betraying her feelings of uncertainty and awkwardness.
Should Jaime tell her that the rumors are facts? Will she hate him as much as his enemies hate him? "Sansa, don't believe those nasty rumors." He'll have a lifetime to tell her the truth. Why risk her not speaking to him ever again? Besides, he needs an ally for this blasted dinner.
He almost takes back his words when he sees the pure adoration on the small smile she offers him when she turns back around. Gods, he is a horrible man. I wonder why Nathalia seems fond of me. "We best be going. They would take it as disrespect if we show later than Tyrion,"
Sansa, sporting a small smile, takes his outstretched arm.
~*~*~*~*~*~PotG~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Sansa!" Little Tommen cheerfully barrels himself to Sansa's stomach. His tiny arms try to reach around her waist to no avail.
A delighted giggle escapes Sansa. She untangles her arm from Jaime's and bends down to hug the little Lannister back. A fleeting moment of flash forward envelops Jaime's mind. Sansa would be a wonderful mother.
"Tommen, watch yourself!" Cersei Lannister sneers as she nears closer. Jaime notices how both Sansa and Tommen immediately straighten themselves. How many times has Cersei caught them in such familial position? "Lady Sansa, I thought for sure you'd be on your way home to your brother."
Sansa's lips straighten to a dissatisfied smile. "Of course not, your Grace. I'm loyal to your family—despite Joffrey exchanging me for the Lady Margaery."
"Yes, she is prettier." Cersei's satisfied smirk riles Jaime. How could she take pleasure in such a sweet girl's misery?
"Careful, sister. One might think that you would prefer to marry Lady Margaery yourself," Tyrion saves the conversation by announcing his arrival using a witty remark. There is still a bandage wrapped around his head, and he has to walk using a wooden stick.
"Brother," Jaime greets with a friendly smile. "You look awful,"
Cersei mutters something under her breath but everyone ignores her. Sansa chooses this moment of silence to walk away. Jaime notices how she is immediately followed by Tommen, the child's dainty hands grabbing hold of her skirts to get her attention. Sansa looks surprised but takes the toddler's hand anyway. Jaime smiles until the thought of Sansa finding out that Tommen is his bastard roams his mind. Would she treat the innocent child differently?
"I told Tommen to stop associating with the likes of traitors,"
Jaime shakes his head disbelievingly. "Stop it, Cersei."
"You know people talk. You're too affectionate with her," She continues and moves closer to him. Her intoxicating scent is seductive. Jaime remembers a time when he would sniff the handkerchief that she had given him just to remember. "They say that Sansa is a Stark whore who needs to be punished. Not only has she taken the heart of the Kingslayer, but also the affections of the handsome bastard,"
"It's better for them to be talking about whom she fancies more rather whose side she's on," This is true. The people are far too intrigued by the love triangle forming between Sansa, Steffon, and Jaime to brand her once more as a traitor. Jaime might be here in King's Landing but even he isn't enough to cover Sansa's ears from the insults of the townspeople.
*Sansa Stark*
Margaery Tyrell walks sensually towards her direction. Sansa feels her heart pounding a bit faster as she recalls her conversation with Olena and Margaery. Not only has she formulated a plan to marry Loras Tyrell without Natasha's knowledge (to be fair, she is planning to tell the helper after this supper) but she has also called Joffrey a monster in front of the future allies of the Lannister's. What the Tyrell's are planning to do with that information is a bit frightful.
"You look beautiful, Sansa." The older woman, flashing her pearly white teeth, greets her. Sometimes Sansa thinks that Margaery is so much more beautiful than Cersei. Perhaps this is why the conniving bitch appears to dislike her?
Sansa blushes. "Thank you,"
Tommen tugs on her hand impatiently. "Sansa, kitten wants to play."
Sansa lets go of his hand and ruffles his blonde hair. "You move along little one and I will follow shortly,"
Tommen, satisfied with her answer, runs towards his kittens.
Sansa turns to Margaery who was watching her amusedly.
"The little lion likes you,"
"Perhaps it's because I'm the only one who gives him the time of day," The Stark girl bites her tongue. Perhaps she should have been wiser then vocalizing her thoughts. Who knows how much more danger she's in?
Luckily, Margaery only offers her a simple smile. "He's getting impatient. Go to him."
With a hesitant smile back, Sansa quickly maneuvers herself towards Tommen. The child is but eight years old and he already knows when to stay away from his family. Sometimes, without the frightened tone of the adults, Tommen would tell her that he feels neglected and left out. His older brother is king while his only ally, his sister Myrcella, is to spend her childhood with strangers in Dorne. Sansa is still pondering whether he's lucky to be staying in King's Landing or not.
"They're getting bigger," She comments, bending to her knees and joining the little boy on the palace floors.
The orange-and-white-striped kitten meows as Tommen gleefully lifts it up her face level. Sansa accepts it and strokes its soft fur. A flash of white fur and wolfish teeth crosses her mind. Oh how she misses Lady. She lost her beloved pet because of her childish beliefs.
"Uncle Jaime told me that lions are large cats," The little boy beside her starts talking unknowingly. "He says I am permpted being a cat cuz' I will be a lion when I grow up." Permpted? He must mean permitted.
It surprises Sansa, although she holds Jaime in her highest regard, that he would say such gentle words to the child. She expects him to be stricter in growing the boy fierce.
"As you grow older, your kittens will grow with you. They may not be lions like you but they can be just as fierce," She tells him and is rewarded with a dazzling grin from the boy.
It surprises Sansa how much of Jaime she sees in Tommen. Then she remembers her conversation with the older Lannister and pushes it to the farthest corner of her mind. She still feels ashamed that she would even consider Tommen a bastard.
"Sansa," She spares him a sideways glance as she tickles the purring kitten on her arms. "Why do you like me?" This gathers her full attention.
"Why do you ask such a question?" She places Sir Pounce-a-lot back on the ground and runs her fingers through Tommen Baratheon's luscious hair.
The child frowns with his chin down, "Mother likes me cuz' I'm her baby. Unca Jaime cuz' he's family…other people cuz' I'm a prince. You? Why?"
A small laugh erupts from Sansa. The mild coloring on the prince's cheeks gives away his nervousness. She cups his plump cheeks with her warm hand to make him gaze at her. When she succeeds, she speaks the truth: "I like you because you are the most wonderful and honest boy in the Seven Kingdoms,"
Tommen smiles shyly after that and grumbles about her touching him.
"Why do you like me then, Lady Sansa?—since Tommen already took the words 'wonderful' and 'honest'"
Sansa looks up in surprise to see Ser Steffon smirking down at her. She immediately stands up as gracefully as the situation permits and curtsies. "Forgive me, I didn't see you there."
He raises his hands chest level to imply the hidden acceptance of her unnecessary apologies. "I see you're getting along quite well with the young prince," He gazes at Tommen in quiet curiosity. Perhaps he's thinking how much the young boy looks like the golden Lannister? "He definitely takes after his…uncle," The glint hidden in his eyes scares Sansa. What does he know?
"I don't know…Tommen's definitely more handsome," Sansa tries to lighten the situation.
It worked since Steffon chuckles in amusement for her sly reply, "Don't let Jaime hear you saying that. That man is anything but humble,"
Sansa offers him a small grin, "You two are awfully close."
"I find amusement in getting him riled up when I mention your name,"
Sansa notices that Tommen is staring at them with an interested look on his young, plump face. He scrunches his nose once he meets her eyes in an effort to tell her that he wasn't eavesdropping.
She hears Steffons laugh and sees him bending down to offer a hand, "You must be Prince Tommen. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Steffon,"
The child looks at the outstretched hand for a moment before finally grabbing it and shaking thoroughly. Sansa and Steffon laugh at the child's obvious glee in being treated as an adult.
"You look so much like your uncle; did anyone ever tell you that?"
Sansa stares sharply at Steffon for saying such words in the Lannister's presence. No matter how much of a rumour Tommen's paternity is, it does not bode well for the helper's wellbeing in King's Landing to be heard saying such things.
"You should watch your words. You never know when anyone is listening," Sansa whispers while looking around to see if anybody is lurking. Margaery is currently involved in small talk with Cersei and Joffrey. Jaime is sporting a grin as he speaks with a joking Tyrion. A small smile quickly appears on her beautiful Tully features. Gods, Jaime is definitely handsome, isn't he?
"And you should be careful to mask your gleeful face directed at the Lannister knight," Steffon uses his soft grip to turn her gaze away from Jaime. Sansa stares back at his light blue eyes and sees the kindness she usually gains courage from. No, she doesn't have romantic feelings for Steffon. He reminds her too much of Robb and Jon to consider romantic prospects with him.
"Did anyone see?" She whispers.
"No," He shakes his head and bends down to tease little Tommen once again.
Sansa steals another quick glance towards Jaime but finds him already looking at her with a strange look on his face. Before she could inquire anything about it, the two large doors directed from the hallway of the throne room opens.
Tywin Lannister steps inside. His cool and intimidating aura radiates inside the room that Sansa swears even Cersei straightens to greet him. He is wearing the Lannister golden armour despite having no battle to fight, and makes it a point to stare at them all before taking a seat at the head of the long table.
"Don't stand there looking like fools," He says—or more like barks. "Sit,"
Everyone wastes no time in following his order. Sansa becomes situated in between Jaime and Steffon while facing—annoyingly so—Joffrey. Her former beloved sneers when she makes eye contact with him that Sansa almost rolls her eyes at the immaturity.
She almost doesn't notice her nails digging her palms before Jaime's touch carefully pries her fist apart. For a short while, their fingers intertwine. Sansa feels the heat of his touch travelling towards her cheeks before pulling away.
The entrée is served. The aroma of the baked bread and watercress soup causes a surprising roar from her belly. Sansa realizes that she has not eaten since early morning in worry whether or not she'll fit on her dress. Immediately, she tears a piece of bread and dips it on the soup.
The first part of their dinner is Tywin Lannister updating them on what's happening in King's Landing. The last of Stannis' captured soldiers are now rotting heads on a spike. This is enough reason for Tywin not to worry about anyone taking King's Landing captive anytime soon. He gives words of gratitude to Margaery—whose family is considered the newest ally of the Lannister's. The lady bashfully lowers her neck in appreciation and promises her family's loyalty to the throne.
Sansa can't help but look at Joffrey's newest betrothed in a new light. Margaery Tyrell is not just a pretty face. She certainly aims to play the games tactfully.
"I have spoken with Olena Tyrell this morning," Tywin supplies their dying conversation while the caterers are serving the main course—spiced beef with boiled potatoes. As soon as his dinner arrives in front of him, the Lannister lion does not wait and cuts a large portion of the beef.
So the devil eats after all, Sansa muses.
"You speak so fondly of her, father, that one would think you're planning on remarrying." Sansa slaps both Jaime and Steffon on their thighs when they start laughing at Tyrion's insensitive quip.
Tywin stares at his eldest son and welcomed guest sharply before addressing the youngest. "I spoke with her because I heard rumours of the Tyrell's planning on making Lady Sansa a bride,"
A sort of clanging sound echoes when Joffrey drops his knife in shock.
"What do you mean, father?" Cersei is the face of calmness as she addresses her father.
Tywin doesn't speak for a while. Sansa looks down at her uneaten dinner. She shouldn't have attended this dinner. Gods she's regretting her decision right now, and her tight dress isn't helping her breathing either. Cersei is staring daggers at her openly now while Jaime, Tyrion, and Steffon appear confused.
Sansa steals a glance towards Margaery. The older lady's eyes are like slits imploring Sansa to stay calm.
"Father," Jaime barks. He's the only one who could speak to their father like this and come out unscathed. Perks of being the favourite child.
Tywin sighs as if giving them the information is a waste of his breath. "Loras Tyrell is asking for Sansa's hand."
"What?"
Sansa looks down at her uneaten dinner when Jaime regards her with cold surprise. Surely this news will reach Natasha's ears faster now. Oh gods what has she done.
"I said no, of course." Tywin took what was supposed to be Ned Stark's duty to his daughter. Tears prickle Sansa's eyes as she remembers her father's last few moments. "I proposed he marry Cersei instead since Sansa's already betrothed."
"Surely you must be jesting?" Cersei's goblet stills mid lift when the plan was dropped.
Margaery chooses this time to use her sweet tone, "My lord, Sansa is not betrothed to anyone."
"Aye," Tywin's menacing grin is directed at Sansa. "To my son: Tyrion."
A/N: I was going to stop here since I wrote this chapter mainly to introduce my own version of the Sansa-Tyrion engagement. However, since I am such a HORRIBLE updater, I added a little bit of foreshadowing for the next chapter. So here it goes…
*Nathalia*
A hand latches on her arm before she could travel ten yards from Robb Stark's tent. Immediately, Nathalia pushes the culprit away. A gust of strong wind forces the person away to create a large impact on the ground.
Nathalia turns sharply as soon as the familiar groan reaches her attentive ears.
"Jon," She cries in surprise.
"Remind me never to marry anyone if you fall into a deep slumber once more," Her beloved huffs in pain when she positions him to lie on her lap. Nathalia notices that her thin nightgown is starting to be soaked from the icy grounds of the north.
She traces Jon's bearded face and mutters a short soothing chant to relieve his muscles of the blow his body attained. "If you marry someone else while I'm asleep, you will suffer a far worse fate than King Robb."
He groans. "I'll keep that in mind," When he catches his breath, Jon immediately sits up. "Where are you going?"
"Back to the wall,"
Dun dun duuunnnnn…I know it's short but I promise the next chapter would be worth the wait. I'm really really really sorry for not updating for MORE THAN HALF A FUCKING YEAR. I won't promise that I'll update more frequently but I'll definitely try.
So why do you all think Nathalia going back to the wall? Is it because of the vision she saw before passing out? Review all your thoughts, comments, suggestions, and guesses!
Kudos to everyone who stayed and reviewed on when I'm going to post the next chapter.
Review Replies:
Lord-of Oceans-Poseidon: Aw sad to hear this. I hope you get used to Sansa's more fiery attitude. Thank you for the review!
Anonymous: This chapter is for you. Yeah, you. Hehe thanks for the review.
