Tyrion lay in bed, feeling the ship gently sway on the waves and hearing the sound of the sea faintly. He wondered if the gentle motion of the vessel had been what had caused him to sleep so soundly thus far on the voyage; grinning to himself as he reflected a more likely culprit for the absence of his usual insomnia was to be found beside him. He turned his head to take in the sight of his sleeping wife. Margery's face wore an expression which was becoming delightfully familiar, Tyrion could best describe it as debauched and satisfied. It called to his mind to his mind the previous night. Less than two weeks after his marriage, Tyrion could not imagine ever turning his eye to another woman. His previous sexual experiences had varied in almost all respects, however all had been about possession, about him wanting some scrap or semblance of love to belong to him. Whilst his desire for Margaery continued to be keener and stronger than any he had experienced before, the difference was that he also felt wanted and valued by her, the feeling took a little getting used to. However, Tyrion had had plenty of experience with life's more bitter lessons, he was prepared to be diligent in his study of the sweet one he was currently being taught.

Margaery stirred and opened her eyes to see her husband gazing down at her, his eyes soft and a smile on his lips. She felt happiness warm her as she had every morning since they wed, she gave him a contented grin and placed a hand on his face.

"Good morning, handsome husband."

"Good morning, beautiful bride."

He leant down and kissed her lips, gently running his tongue over them until she opened her mouth. Her hand moved from his face to his mop of hair which she pulled on gently as he ran his fingers lightly down her side. Their kiss became more passionate as he braced himself atop her. She began to run her nails lightly down his back, smirking at his gasps.

"I thought you were my rose without a thorn."

Margaery gave him a look filled with intensity.

"No you didn't. That's what everyone else thinks, that's what I want them to see. But you see thorns and the petals, and you love me for it. Just as I see you for who you are, and love you for it."

She kept her eyes on him and hoped vehemently that he would accept what she had said with sincerity and not deflect it with a quip. Happily, although there was smile on her husband's face, it was open and genuine, not twisted and sarcastic. She knew it was not easy for him to open himself up, even to her, but she also knew that she needed him to try. She felt a bolt of pure delight as he stroked her face and murmured:

"We are perfect for each other."

He pulled her into a gentle, loving kiss. When their lips parted Tyrion spoke in a voice that was slightly hoarse:

"You incredible creature, I am still not entirely sure I didn't dream you into life."

"Let's see what I can do to convince you I'm real…"

With a wicked expression on her face, Margaery moved a hand to his hardened member and gripped it lightly. Tyrion gave a low growl and his own hands moved to her pert breasts, his fingers on her nipples soon drawing mews from her lips. Before long he was inside her, both of them running their hands and lips over whatever part of the other's body they could reach, coupling with passionate urgency, almost in competition as to which would succeed in providing their spouse with the most intense moment of completion.

Their lovemaking over, the pair lay on the bed awhile longer sharing long, deep kisses and caresses. Eventually, Margaery lifted herself elegantly from the bed and throwing a robe over her shoulders, made her way the cabin's small dressing table. She looked in the mirror, raised a hand to her chestnut curls and turned to Tyrion with a humorous frown.

"Look at this tangled mess! Rosa will not thank me for the time it will take to put this right."

"Allow me." Tyrion made the offer quickly and jumped from the bed pulling on a robe of his own. He gave his wife a smile.

"I am not suggesting I can dress your hair, my love, but I can certainly run the brushes through it."

He could tell Margaery was pleased by his offer. Tyrion wanted to do things like this for his wife very much. To participate in everyday acts of domestic intimacy. Margery sat in front of the mirror and he picked up the brush, beginning to move it through her soft, thick hair with long strokes.

"The things you can do with those hands, Tyrion Lannister."

He grinned at her suggestive tone.

"I do not think I have paid such attention to your hair since the night of our wedding."

Margaery smiled at the memory.

"Yes, Jaime was very fierce with the men, I did not so much as lose a shoe or a hair clip did I?"

"Beddings don't go down well with Lannister men, my love."

"I imagine they don't." Margaery remembered the envy she had experienced when she had seen how Jaime looked at Sansa as if the sun rose and set in his wife's eyes. Now she recognised a similar depth of feeling in the way her own husband looked at her and she treasured it. Hard as it was to imagine such surrendered devotion from Tywin Lannister, Margaery reflected that even her grandmother had remarked upon the Old Lion's deep love for his late wife. She pushed her musings aside and glanced at Tyrion, noting a distracted frown on his face. Worried that her husband was reliving painful memories, she touched his hand.

"Tyrion? What are you thinking about, love?"

"Oh, nothing too terrible. I was remembering a conversation I overheard between my uncles when I was a boy. When my parents married, during the bedding ceremony the Mad King… took certain liberties."

"My grandmother mentioned to me how Aerys was with your mother. It cannot have been easy for your father to bear."

Tyrion was silent as memories rushed through his mind, forming a coherent picture. He thought of his uncles' conversation, he had only been a boy at the time and had hardly understood what they meant. He heard Joffrey's voice, first hysterical with frightened rage: "You will pay for this Jaime Lannister!", then blustering to Oberyn Martell: "It is I who should be congratulated." He thought of the intense anger he'd seen in Tywin's eyes on the night of Jaime and Sansa's wedding, and again the night of Joffrey's boast to the Dornish prince. Tywin's voice resolute and steely: "This is about House Lannister, I will not have us dragged through the mud."

Tywin who had held his stomach and suppressed coughs while Tyrion, Cersei and Joffrey were doubled up and staggering. Tywin who was supposedly bed bound but was able to make his way to the Tyrell apartments fully clothed and commanding the minute he heard of Margaery and Loras's attempted arrests.

"Margaery, my father killed Joffrey."

"What?"

"The night we had word of Sansa's pregnancy, after you left the table, Joffrey… the little fucker implied that the babe could be his. Remember he joked he'd taken her the day she and Jaime left King's Landing?"

Margaery stared at her husband, her mind also working.

"Your father would not stand by and allow rumours about Jaime's child to spread. He would suffer none shaming House Lannister, not even the king. He already suffered the slights and aspersions of one mad king."

"Exactly! This time he was in a position to take action, and he did. Gods, how did I not see it sooner? He was far less affected than any of the rest of us at that table."

Tyrion shook his head and grinned.

"The sly old bastard. Really I cannot help but admire him, Kinslaying should see him cursed throughout the land, instead he has everything he ever wanted." He chuckled bitterly. His wife frowned.

"Tyrion, you cannot think it funny that your father…"

"That he what? Tried to kill me? Oh, but I am sure he did not. If Tywin Lannister tries to kill you, you will be killed, as any number of corpses could testify were they not dead. No I have no doubt my father ensured Joffrey perished and was indifferent to the fate of Cersei and myself and really indifference is more than an Imp-"

"Stop!"

Margaery had grabbed both his shoulders and was staring into his eyes fiercely

"I have made it very clear I will suffer no one using that term to refer to you, Tyrion, and that includes yourself. Please, my love, don't hide behind bitter jests, not with me."

Tyrion gazed at her, he felt as if his heart was too big for his chest, every single wall he had build to defend himself from the hurt and hate which had so often been his lot were being torn down by Margaery, one by one. Sometimes he felt he wanted to curl up and hide from her, to push her away before he ended up loosing her. But then he remembered the times he had tried to push her away before and how wretched it had made him feel. He took both her hands in his.

"Margaery I am sorry. It is a habit of a lifetime, and one that I am trying to change. I know there have been times in past when I have pushed you away and I beg your forgiveness for that. I have wanted you for so long, my love, and I am not used to getting what I want. Sometimes I am scared but I am facing those fears, I swear to you I am."

As he spoke the words, he could see with clarity how much more likely he was to loose her love through his defensiveness than through any of his own perceived deficiencies. He felt almost elated with relief when she pulled him to her.

"You must face those fears, Tyrion, but not alone, never again alone."

The held each other tightly for a minute then she pulled away and looked at him.

"How do you feel?"

Tyrion sighed:

"I feel… a fool. Because even now I still care what he thinks of me, because I did not realise he was behind all this sooner and once again pushed you away. Because I do not know what I should do now, whether I should tell Jaime of this when we return, whether anyone else will also realise my father killed Joffrey and what anyone else realising will mean. Because I don't know how I will feel when I see him again. But, I do know that, however unintended, our marriage was a consequence of this plot and I also know that you, my love, will be by my side facing everything that comes of this with me. So in answer to your question…Lucky, I feel lucky."

Margaery's eyes blazed.

"You are. Lucky and loved, so so loved."

Tyrion pulled her into an intense kiss. Margaery wrapped her arms around him, feeling she could not hold him tightly enough. Margaery Tyrell had never been greatly taken with handsome knights. The thought came to her now that such men were useless against the twisted plotting of King's Landing. The man she held in her arms was a different matter entirely. Her quick witted, kind hearted, fighter of a husband was the only champion she would ever need. She thought of what Sansa had said to her the day before she wed Jaime; her friend's fear that a crown would bring only bitterness to Margaery. In weeks following her marriage, Margaery had become convinced that if she had not wed Tyrion her heart may indeed have hardened more than she would have wished. Playing the game was all very well, but it was infinitely better now that she had someone by her side who saw her for who she truly was and loved her for it. As she and Tyrion parted lips, Margaery shut her eyes and held him to her. She was glad that Highgarden would be their's; that she could keep him away from the lion's den if she needed to. She would not let anyone tear him apart and together they would triumph.

We will grow strong and you will hear us roar.

Sansa's eyes sprung open, immediately she was wide awake. In the last few months of her pregnancy, disturbed sleep had become the norm; she always had to empty her bladder at least once during the night. However, this was different, the cramping pains she had been aware of intermittently throughout the day were upon her again and were stronger than before. This is it, the babe is on its way. She carefully eased herself out of the bed and padded quietly to the small sitting room next door to the bedroom. She opened the shutters and gazed out. Sansa did not wish to wake her husband just yet. In the later stages of her pregnancy, Jaime's aunt had spoken to her of her own experiences of childbirth and Maragery's mother had been only too happy to provided lengthy accounts of Margaery and Loras's arrivals during her stay at the Rock. Sansa knew that these early pains could continue for hours. She also felt that she wanted some time alone with her thoughts. Just as before her wedding to Jaime, she felt the absence of her mother keenly, and she could not tell if the ache felt sharper because her mother was gone forever, or because she felt anxious about going to the birthing bed. Surely she would have come to me, for all the child I carry is a Lannister. Sansa wanted to believe this was true, but there were times when she could almost feel her mother's judgemental gaze upon her, when she feared that if not Catelyn then perhaps Robb or Arya would have wished that she and this child would perish. Another spasm of pain came and she held her belly and hissed, they seemed to be coming more and more rapidly and she had the impression that her labour was progressing quickly. Her thoughts turned to Jaime, they had spoken about his presence in the birthing chamber and he had told her that he would do whatever made her feel most comfortable. Sansa was still somewhat scandalised by the idea. It was, she reflected so typical of the three Lannister siblings; one thing they all had in common was a willingness to behave in a way likely to incite the disapproval of those around them. Sansa could not think of a time when she had acted without full consideration to whether the deed was proper, and although she had come to question much of what she had learnt as a child, this remained. A key part of her success as Lady of the Rock had been doing what was expected of her, not praying to the Old Gods, not displaying Stark colours. What would anyone think if Jaime joined her as she laboured? Would it call to mind the fact he had been present for the births of Cersei's children and add credence to the rumours that those children where his?

As these thoughts were upon her, Sansa felt the pain in her stomach stronger than ever. Up to now the pangs had not been worse than what she felt during her monthly bleed but this was far sharper and also lasted for at least a minute. It is not supposed to happen this quickly. Gentle mother, help me. At that moment she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to face her husband.

"Sansa?"

"Jaime, I think its time."

She looked into his green eyes, the reassurance she saw there calming her. Sansa had spent much of her pregnancy seeking to assuage Jaime's worries. She knew the death of his mother had left a deep impression on him and had hesitated to voice any fears of her own. Now though all she could do was look at him with wide eyes, and grimace as another pang hit her. She closed her eyes and felt him pull her to him. Then she heard his voice, strong and reassuring.

"You're alright sweet girl, you're alright. Now, has that one passed? Sansa, look at me. Everything will be fine, you are so strong, you will get through this and before too long you will be holding our babe in your arms. Wait there, I will bring you your robe and we can walk about, it will make the pain easier to bear. I will call for the Maester too."

Jaime's calm voice was in conflict with his inner turmoil, but he knew that this was what Sansa needed from him. The birth of this child was something he had dreaded and dreamed of for weeks now. If all went well he would have a family, a child the world would know was his, a child that was his and Sansa's. He would have made some kind of recompense to her for the family which had been taken from her. But Jaime was only too aware that all may not go well.

Having woken his squire and sent the lad to rouse Creylen, he returned to his wife who was pacing in their sitting room a hand in the small of her back. She turned to him with a faint smile and he was once again reminded of how strong Sansa was. Her smile dropped and her eyes squeezed shut, he swiftly moved to her side and placed his arms around her. After a second she spoke shakily.

"The pains are already becoming hard to bear, I…I am not sure I can do this."

"Of course you can, my love, each pain brings you one step closer to seeing the baby."

"That is…easy for you to say."

They smiled at each other, the door opened and Maester Creylen entered with several women.

"Lady Sansa, if you could please lie on your bed we will examine you and determine how far the labour has progressed." Sansa complied and after a few minutes the older of the women spoke:

"This babe will be born very soon, your labour is moving fast m'lady."

The Maester turned to Jaime.

"Ser Jaime, I will ensure you are kept well informed, I presume you will be found in your solar?"

"No! I want him here with me!"

Sansa saw the raised brows of the midwives and Creylen's questioning look to Jaime. Suddenly, she could not care less for what was proper, she was anxious and in pain. These sensations were all too familiar from her time in King's Landing. But she was not in King's Landing and she was not alone. She looked into her husband's eyes, the person she loved and trusted above all others, and knew she needed him. He gave her a nod and smile.

"Very well, lady wife, let's get this cub of ours born."

Jaime sat on the bed, Sansa leaning against him, his arms supporting her. It had still been night when Creylen bade his wife to return to the bed and now the sun had risen. However, he could tell the birth was close and Sansa would not be subjected to a labour which would last days. His wife gave a groan and the midwife smiled.

"Almost there m'lady, one final push and the head will be here."

Sansa cried out and gripped his hands, Jaime's heart was hammering in his chest, he couldn't think and found himself focusing in breathing in the way his wife had been told to. Several moments later Sansa gasped.

"That's it m'lady, the heads born, now bide your time until I give you the word…push, now, push."

Sansa collapsed back against him, completely limp. Jaime saw a small, pink shape lifted by one of the midwives, she handed it to the maester who ran his hands over it then turned to Jaime looking as happy as he had ever seen him.

"You have a healthy son."

"A son? I have a son?"

Jaime felt overwhelmed, he watched as Creylan passed the babe to Sansa, his wife was sobbing as she cradled the infant.

"Hello my, beautiful boy."

She turned a glowing face to Jaime.

"Will you hold your son, Jaime?"

"I think it would be best, Ser Jaime, we need to make sure your wife passes the afterbirth."

Sansa handed him the babe and Jaime gazed at him, the rest of the room faded away. He looked down at the tiny, perfect boy, as yet completely bald, who looked back at him with wide, blue eyes. Jaime felt a lump in his throat as well as a smile he could not have rid his face of even if he had felt like trying. After a while, babe began to squirm and move his lips, Jaime brought him to Sansa.

"I think our boy may be hungry."

The midwives helped Sansa bring the child to her breast. Jaime eyed his wife anxiously but although she looked exhausted she did not seem fevered or unduly weak. She gave him a radiant smile.

"We have a son."

He perched himself beside her on the bed, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Sansa, I love you."

"I love you too."

She sighed and moved herself closer to him.

Later in the day, Sansa awoke to the sound of bells. Smiling to herself, she turned on her side, her eyes going straight to the small cradle beside the bed where a bundle of joy was wrapped in crimson and gold. Her handmaiden was seated near the door and as Sansa stirred she came forward.

"Shall I bring you the baby, m'lady?"

"No let him sleep. Where is my husband?"

"He should be back shortly, m'lady, he went to see about the bells and to send ravens."

Of course, Tywin Lannister must hear of his continued legacy. Sansa could not help but feel bitter, the man who would now derive satisfaction from the news of the birth of his grandson, had ensured Sansa's mother never lived to see the boy. She thought of how the Old Lion was now keeping Jaime from Tommen, Tyrion had taken a letter from Jaime to the boy but he would not be able to deliver it until his return from Braavos. Sansa glanced at her own sleeping son, feeling a wave of protectiveness flow through her. Tywin Lannister would not be allowed to use this child as a pawn in his games. One of the first things Jaime had ever told her was how he admired her mother's devotion to her children. Sansa would be just as devoted to this child and any others she bore. The difference would be that her devotion would be sharpened by the brutal lessons she had learned in King's Landing. He parents had enjoyed the luxurious illusion of security that peaceful years in the North had provided and though lying in her chambers, gazing at her perfect firstborn Sansa felt more at peace than she ever had, she knew this peace was something she must fight for rather than expect as her due.

She looked up as the door opened and a beaming Jaime entered, carrying a plate. She grinned at him.

"What have you there?"

"Let's call it a name day cake for our little one."

"I think he's a little young for cake, also he is currently sound asleep."

Jaime threw the infant a fond look and turned to Sansa's handmaiden.

"Have you seen my son? Is he not the most handsome babe you have laid eyes on?"

"Indeed he is, m'lord."

The girl smiled at them and dropped a curtsy before departing. Jaime advanced to his wife and kissed her, before fixing her with a gleeful smile.

"I took him to show Kevan and Dorna while you were asleep, and my cousins, I shall have to show him to the whole household soon."

"Jaime! He is not the only babe ever to come into the world."

"He is the only one who is ours."

They shared a loving look. Then she said mischievously:

"As I have already given you a child today, husband, I am at something of a loss as to what more you require before I may have a slice of that lemon cake."

"You would steal your own child's name day cake?"

Sansa said nothing and raised her eyebrows. Smiling sweetly as Jaime moved to cut her a slice.

"Of course, on his name day he does need a name."

"I told you long ago, wife, you can give him any name you see fit."

Sansa pondered, knowing the truth of Jaime's past, she had long ago abandoned the notion of having a son named Robb. As far as other northern names went, she knew they were not appropriate for a future warden of the west and also doubted her father would thank her for the tribute of a son named Eddard Lannister. She looked at Jaime and smiled.

"As it happens I do have a name in mind, and while I thank you for allowing me the choice, I am sure we will be of a mind on this. I want to call him after someone who means much to both of us. Someone who he will be proud to be named for. Someone who I know will love and protect him in the same way that we will. Jaime, I would like to name our son Tyrion."

Jaime's face had lit up.

"Truly?"

Sansa nodded and laughed as he pulled her into a kiss. Jaime pulled away with a smirk.

"I would love to see Tyrion's face when he hears the news, he might actually be speechless."

Just then the babe stirred, Sansa began to raise herself from the bed, but Jaime put a hand on her arm, an eager expression on his face.

"Allow me, my love."

Sansa watched, her heart melting, as her husband approached the crib and tentatively lifted their son into his arms.

"Hello my boy, you've got a name now, yes you have, we're going to call you Tyrion after your uncle. We hope you'll be as clever as he is, but less fond of wine."

"Seeing you with him is making me fall in love with you all over again, Jaime Lannister."

"And I thought I was fortunate you found it in you heart to do that the once." Jaime began teasingly, then, as he handed her their son, he spoke in a serious tone:

"You amaze me every day Sansa, I love you so much. To have you and now our son, it is far more than I could hope to deserve."

She placed a hand on his cheek.

"We love you too, Jaime you have done so much to make me happy and I can truly think of no man I would rather have as the father of my children."

Later Jaime lay on his side in the bed, watching Sansa slumber with their son on her chest. He knew, without doubt, that this was the best day of his life. He could never remember feeling as he did when he looked upon his new family. There was overwhelming pride and love; but also a sense of certainty. So much of Jaime's life had been based on conflict: become a Kingsguard to keep Cersei, but loose his place as father's heir: kill Aerys and dishonour himself or let King's Landing burn: never claim his children as his own or condemn them to death. Now there was no conflict at all, he would stay by Sansa's side and love her completely and together they would see their children prosper. This marriage had been brought about to claim the North for the Lannisters, but what no one had expected, Jaime least of all, was that it would result in Sansa having such a claim on him. He would not let anyone harm or threaten what they had now and he was ready to destroy those who he knew would try. Winter is coming and a Lannister always pays his debts.

There we have it! Tywin murdered Joffrey! Well done to those who guessed although I'm glad it was't too obvious. As more than one of you have said, I think Tywin would have offed Joff sooner or later in cannon, had Olenna not beaten him to it. Here the impetus came to do it sooner as a result of Jaime and Sansa's marriage; there was no way Tywin would sit back and let Joffrey insinuate he had cuckolded Jaime particularly when this developed into claiming he was the father of Sansa's baby, Tywin killed the rumour in its cradle, if you'll pardon the pun. Also Tyrion's guess was right, Tyrion and Cersei served as a distraction, Tywin wasn't really bothered if they also died, but Joffrey was the only one he ensured was killed.

So we have come to end of the story. I know the dead still walk and the dragons are coming, but this fic was always focused on the two central pairings and this was the point I intended on getting to when I started. Having said that I have been thinking about what happens next so maybe I'll write a sequel…

Thank you so much to everyone who has followed the story and shared your thoughts about it with me. I've been so surprised and happy that so many others have enjoyed the story and loved getting feedback. I know we often review in the hope of getting more chapters quicker (I have done anyway!) but I would really love it if you could let me know what you thought of the story overall and if you felt like sharing any theories about what might happen next in this AU then that would be lovely too.

A special thanks to my lovely Catherina1996 for betaing up to chapter 31 (excluding chapter 15) and for being such an inspiration and source of support and for awakening my latent shipping of these two pairings with her wonderful fic 'Dancing for You'.