authorsnote: quick updatees (well for me)

I am so enjoying getting back into this story, I honestly am loving their journey (hehe, I'm sorry my puns will only get worse), and it keeps me writing them!

I do hope you enjoy, do review and let me know if you do! fav/follow for updates!

songrecs: used to this - camila cabello

The closer they got the smoke turned to flames.

She couldn't see, her head buried against Jaime's chest, her hood pulled up high, covering her distinctive hair, covering her mouth from the acrid smoke, but she could smell the smoke in the air, and she wasn't sure she was imagining the flames licking close by.

"Stay down" Jaime whispered, and yet he didn't have to tell her twice, her eyes remained open, but she didn't dare move, her hands dug into Jaime's back, her nails clutching at his skin, if it hurt, he didn't complain. She couldn't actually see anything, with her head tucked in, but she feels she doesn't need to.

This journey has almost forced to acknowledge that in some ways she had it very good in Kings Landing. Now, she knew she'd still rather live as a peasant forever than return, but the station she had been kept in had been suitable to her rank as a Lady, the abuse had been psychological, but her comforts and lodgings had been appropriate for her. She'd never gone hungry, or cold, or ridden into warzones.

Now she must.

She'd still rather be here, riding through a fire, clinging to Jaime, hunger gnawing at her stomach, her hair tangled and filthy, her dress caked in an inch in mud, her nails dirty and ragged, her pretty face paler than usual and smudged with dirty. She'd still rather be here, she knows she would, but her mind, playing tricks on her as it does, imagines just for a second the warmth of her old bedroom, the food, the endless amount of water and sweet teas.

It had been beautiful, comfortable, but not a room, she reminds herself, a cage, gilded, and pretty and filled with pillows, but a cage all the same

'You're like one of those birds from the Summer Isles, aren't you? A pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words they taught you to recite'

'The Hound is right … I am only a little bird, repeating the words they taught me'

'Sansa will do her duty, won't you little dove?'

'I was wondering where our little dove had flown?'

A bird, a pretty bird, with pretty words, all of the pillows and chocolates and warmth couldn't make up for that. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them again, her resolve hardened, better to be a bird in flight than with wings clipped.

"Are you alright?" Jaime whispered, but his voice was near lost to the sound, the cracking of wood, and then she heard yelling, getting closer, with flames came the fight.

She nodded against his chest, not wanting to open her mouth to the acrid air. She said nothing more as Jaime urged them forward. It felt wrong to be going toward the yelling, toward the fighting, but she knew this was their quickest path home.

A little bird in flight, hurrying home, she was thankful in one sense, that they wouldn't go miles out of the way, but the terror in her veins almost wished they had. She knew Jaime had been right, it would have added days, maybe even weeks to go around, having to venture into the Vale even came with its own dangers, Sansa knew they'd made the right choice, even if it didn't feel that way right now.

"We're coming upon the fighting" Jaime said, voice slightly raised, "Do not move, ideally we'll ride through"

Again, she only offered a nod, her nails digging in tighter to his tunic, clinging to Jaime as they rode on. She'd imagined it would be over faster, but the entire village was burning, and they'd barely entered, it would be some time yet.

A little bird, flying through the flames, she just hoped to come out the other side, unburned.

The heat hits them like a whip.

The smoke has drifted further, the warmth lingers in the air, but the fire? The pure heat of it? That hits them suddenly, and intensely.

It's too much, way too much, but there's no other way.

He can hear Sansa cough a touch, tucks against him closer, and he pulls her in. She can be shielded, and he makes an effort to do so, pulls her hood over more, tucks her into his chest. The smoke creeps over them but it's the heat he tries to hide her from, it's a lot.

It beats against his face, the warmth hitting hard over his face, but he's felt worse, he's ridden through flames, he's coughed on smoke in battle, he can handle it.

He can handle anything.

It's Sansa he must protect, and that is the mantra that has played in his head since he found her. He will protect her at all costs. Better his lungs burn as he urges the horse forward to the long burning village, better the smoke tickles against his nose and makes his eyes tear up rather than hers. He can endure it.

It's not that he doubts Sansa, but the need to protect her roars in his chest like a lion. It's the urge he'd once felt over Cersei, though she'd always protected herself, in her own way, with her own hatred. Sansa is an innocent, in more need of his protection, the lion that had slumbered as Cersei had schemed and lied has come back to him, and it will protect Sansa until death.

The village burns, and he can hear yelling as they ride through, the smoke too thick to make anyone out, but he can hear it. He feels a twinge at the screams of a woman, the undeniable cry of a babe but he knows they can't stop, he may be a Knight, but he already has someone to protect.

If he were religious, he'd send a prayer to the Gods, Sansa's, or those of the South, but he'd turned his back on the Gods a long time ago, no use harping at them now.

"Jaime" He can hear Sansa, her voice muffled, and he just pulls her closer. Her little nails dig into him but even if they hurt, he wouldn't discourage her. He just wants to get them through this as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

"Jaime" He can't move to look at her, his eyes set on the road ahead. He has a hood pulled over his own head, but he can see forward, the smoke too thick to see far ahead, hence his eyes focused on the road, to ensure they make it through. They aren't even far in yet, he knows he needs to focus wholly, and so he speaks, even as the smoke burns his tongue.

"Are you okay?" He asks again and her nod calms him a touch, but once again she speaks.

"We need to go back" She says against his shirt, voice muffled but he can still hear her. She coughs and he tucks her closer, what else can he do?

"We can't" Is all he says, and he knows they can't. Yes, this is bad, the air is horrid, the flames lick around them, and the visibility is so poor they are going dangerously slow in an active war area, but he anticipates it will be minutes not hours to get through, whereas the Vale? Weeks not days to traverse.

"It will add too much time" He says, lowering his head, tucking his chin and mouth to the top of Sansa's hood to stop some of the bile getting past his lips, whilst allowing him muffled words and eyes on the road.

He's done this before, riding through flames, riding through the sounds of men cutting people down, but not with a passenger, not with someone he's sworn to protect, not with Sansa. It's different, very different.

In battle he's alone, he can focus completely on himself, he can gather his determination and charge forward. Now he needs to think of Sansa first, keep her safe and as comfortable as possible, ensure she is well and looked after. He needs to keep her from bolting in terror or frankly messing things up. It's a completely different game, and infinitely more challenging.

And yet, he wouldn't have it any other way.

He thinks for a minute as he snaps the reigns, as he keeps his eyes open, watery as they area and fixed on a tree in the distance he can just make out as a point of focus to ride forward, he thinks of where he'd be now had he missed Sansa on the road.

Would he be back in Kings Landing, under Cersei's spell? Or would he have shaken her as he has now and be alone in the Capitol? Would he have returned to Casterly Rock to get away from her? He doesn't know, and he's glad he doesn't have to. As tired, as hungry, as suddenly warm as he is, he'd not want to be anywhere else but here, with Sansa.

He's sure if he hadn't found her she'd be lying in a ditch somewhere, dead. But it's not just that. He knows without Sansa he'd have likely never fully shaken Cersei off. Yes, the journey to leaving his sisters influence had started in that cage, caked in mud, tired, hungry, contemplating death and all he'd done wrong; it had started their, unravelling her lies, the pain she'd caused him over and over, all she'd done to manipulate him; it had started their, but it had been Sansa, her words, so innocent and true, and her being the complete opposite to his twin that had given him that final push.

He'd die thankful to her, he'd die protecting her, not just because of his burgeoning feelings for her (that he couldn't think on right now, as he passed the tree, and found no new marker, having to double his focus), but because of what she'd done for him, making him realise.

Some would say he'd saved her, from sure death or worse on the road, and he had, but she too had saved him.

It was an unusual feeling for him, acknowledging that, that Sansa had rescued him just as much as he had her, but it upturned the corners of his lips, even as the air grew hotter, and he had to slow slightly to pick through the heat.

He would have kept his smile had the horse not come to a sudden stop.

It happened suddenly.

"Jaime?" Sansa said, fear shooting through her, as all of a sudden, they stopped, their horse letting out a terrified cry, and coming to a dead rest. She realised, as they stopped, the heat had been bad in motion but now it was near suffocating. Even tucked under her hood she felt the burn in her lungs and spluttered against it, fear soaking through her veins as the heat crept over her. They couldn't stay here, what was happening? Why had they stopped? "What's going on?"

He didn't reply, but suddenly he was gone too. Jumped from the horse, and she would have fallen forward did she not catch herself. A shriek of terror left her lips and she near jumped down too, tugging down her hood, the smoke making it impossible to see much further than her own hands, and another round of spluttering left her lips.

She'd known fear, she'd known sheer terror, and this was worse.

The urge to jump down to search for Jaime, to make sure he was okay, to not be alone was near overwhelming, she only managed to stay put, to force herself to not react out of fear, because she knew Jaime would have told her to stay. It was only his voice in her head, the words she imagined he'd say, 'Stay put Sansa, I'll be back' that kept her in place.

"Jaime?" She tried to speak but coughed and spluttered again, the smoke too thick, the air too dense. Stay put she would, but she needed to know where Jaime was, what was he doing? She felt so confused, and knew the smoke was contributing. It had been only minutes since they'd stopped, how did she feel dizzy already?

Would she die here? Alone? Was Jaime okay? Had he left or been dragged away? Did she need to follow him. Quickly she swung one leg over, to go side saddle, preparing to jump down. 'Stay put Sansa' he'd say, but where was he?

She wouldn't die alone. If she were, at least she'd want Jaime to be with her, holding her hand, whispering in her ear.

Before she could jump she felt hands on hers and would have scurried away and screamed did she not suddenly feel someone pulling her closer, a forehead resting against hers, and the smell of him, even dulled by smoke, and his whisper, it calmed her almost instantly.

Jaime.

"It's okay" He whispered, his own voice cracked but his words sure, so sure she had no choice but to believe them, "I have to walk the horse"

"What?" She asked, barely able to speak, but needing answers. Jaime had stopped her throwing herself from the horse in adrenaline fuelled terror, but she knew she was trembling, even in the heat, she felt terrified.

"It won't go, I have to cover its head and guide it" He paused then, and Sansa's heart was pounding so loudly in her ears she almost didn't hear him, "Back the way we came"

When she'd suggested it, it had only been because she was scared, pressed against Jaime, hearing him cough, the air so thick it almost drowned her, she hadn't thought they actually would. It added days, maybe weeks, with Lannister soldiers at their backs … no.

"But…" She began, even as she near choked on her words.

"No" His head shook against hers, "We won't make it"

The terror she felt at getting caught, compared to riding on, the smoke near choking them, the air too thick, the heat unbearable, they fought with one another.

One won out.

A nod of hers, then his, and then he was gone, and it took everything in her not to follow him, not to reach for him, and instead to force herself to turn on the horse, taking the place of rider, Jaime's place, a leg either side, her hands grabbing the saddle, not the reigns, as Jaime had taken those.

They'd go back the way they came, as terrified as she was she knew it was the right call, she just hoped they didn't leave the smoke, to be met with something worse.

On the ground was so much worse.

The horse coming to a stop wasn't a surprise, but he had hoped that by riding fast enough the mare wouldn't become spooked. Alas, when he'd slowed down it had stopped, and now he was wrapping a blanket around it's head, tying quickly, pulling his own hood back up, and the bottom of it over his mouth, trying to ward off the smoke.

He felt dizzy, too much smoke in his lungs but he clamped down on it. He could barely see Sansa, but he could see her pulling her hood up, lying flatter, gripping the saddle. He had to get her out of here, he could worry about breathing later.

He had to protect Sansa, that was the mantra in his head, and that had him clamp down on the dizziness in his head, the very real fear in his veins, and focus on the task at hand.

Once the horses head was wrapped, he looped the reigns around his hand and tugged, almost letting out a sigh of relief (where his mouth not closed), as it followed, not able to see the flames, and being somewhat closed off to the smoke calming it enough that it followed him as he turned them in a half circle, and then hurried them forward.

It was a relief now, that they hadn't gotten very far in, and it was only minutes, maybe 10 before he could see light. Thankfully, as any longer and he would have collapsed.

He was on the verge of it, his walk slowing, his grip loosening, but he tugged and pulled the horse, his lungs screamed for air but he kept his mouth firmly closed. He staggered forward, and when the sun pierced the harsh smoke, when the air began to clear, he let himself take a gulp of it.

A mistake.

Coughing and spluttering overtook him and before he knew it he was on his knees, a horrible hacking in his chest near making him faint. His mind tried to focus him, to think of Sansa, to get up and get her to safety, but the agony in his chest, the spots in his vision, they stopped him doing anything but near vomiting on the ground.

Would he die here? He reached for Sansa, if he had to die now he wanted her near, to hold her close, to apologise for failing her and to kiss her sweet smelling hair … he'd fail his vows but die with her in his arms.

Failure. His life, failure.

"I…" He tried to apologise, but to who? Was Sansa near? Already dead? Tears would have leaked down his cheeks did he not vomit, twice then three times, all moisture gone. He felt delirious but couldn't recognise it.

His eyes closed, he slumped, briefly he saw Cersei, green eyed, blonde, beautiful, but then her hair was red, her eyes a piercing blue, her skin paler, and it was Sansa, innocent, kind, more beautiful. Sansa, with her pretty words, her delightful laugh, her dainty hands, and her constant presence that soothed him.

Sansa … Sansa … Sansa.

Sansa's lips on his, his lips on her hair, his hand in hers. Sansa, sweet, pretty, smart, smarter than any gave her credit. Sansa.

Sansa rubbing her hands over his face, Sansa forcing water down his throat, Sansa slapping him?

He awoke with a gasp.

They were away from the smoke, though he could see the burning village nearby. They were hidden behind a large rock, his back to it and Sansa sat next to him. Her cheeks were flushed pink, she breathed heavily, her hands shaking as she went to slap him again, but instead squealed at his sudden, violent wakening, and before he could speak, ask what had happened, he left out an 'oof' as his arms and vision were suddenly full, Sansa having thrown herself into his arms.

He could hear her sobbing, and he just held her close, holding off his questions, for he needed this too. His hands stroked her hair, and he buried his face in her neck, as she pulled him close, her hands gripping him, her little sobs near breaking his heart, enough to pull her back.

She had soot marks on her face, and her eyes were watery, but she had avoided most of the carnage of the village, though she was pale, and he reached for the water to give her.

Though, she misunderstood him, quickly picking it up and feeding some to him, which he didn't resist, gulping down half the remaining skin (he could see one empty on the ground), and it was the sweetest liquid he had ever tasted. He could feel the pain in his chest, in his throat, but the water helped, it cleared some, enough that he managed to ask, voice gruff, but working.

"What happened?"

Sansa bit down on her lip, and if not for their circumstances he'd have felt pleased she was so at ease with him to wipe at his face with a cloth, swiping away the dirt, soot and tears, though part of him felt embarrassed, there was no time for that now.

"You fainted" Sansa said, settling down, handing Jaime the cloth, perhaps she could sense his embarrassment? He tried to push away his wounded pride, and nodded, wiping at his mouth, taking some water, swilling out his mouth before nodding again at her to continue.

"I had to drag us out" She nodded and he could see the soot marks in the grass leading here, to where she'd no doubt struggled to get them clear, "I couldn't save the horse" She sounded regretful but he shook his head.

"You did the right thing" He said, the water helping a lot, but he handed the rest to Sansa, or tried to, as she pressed it back to him.

"Drink" She insisted, and when he didn't, she glared at him, which washed away most of his ego, he allowed himself to laugh and was thankful it only caused a small cough, not a fit.

It was hard to be embarrassed around Sansa, she was too earnest, too well meaning to get his back up and hurt his pride. That had been a specialty of Cersei's, wounding his fragile ego, but around Sansa? The lion in his chest wouldn't be cowed.

He had meant his thoughts, he had saved her, but she him too, now in more ways than one.

"Careful my Lady" He managed to say, taking another pull on the skin, the water certainly helping, "That glare is dangerous" He mocked, and at the roll of her eyes he laughed again.

She handed him an apple then and picked up another for herself, a little smile on her features at his laugh, but he knew she was still scared, trembling, and so he reached for her, and was glad as he pulled her into his lap she went easily, tucking herself into him, legs over his, her body on his lap easing something in him.

They both ate their apples and finished the water in silence. He took deep breaths, clearing his lungs bit by bit, and they remained there for over an hour. It was dangerous, so out in the open, but neither of them moved. He knew he should move them on, but he couldn't, not for a while, not only to ensure he didn't collapse again, but also because for now, with Sansa in his arms, he felt as safe as he could, as content as he could, and he didn't dare break that.

They stayed for longer, splitting the rest of the bread, and finishing their final skin of water. It was likely a bad idea, but they had both almost just died, and full bellies, and refreshed mouths, his lungs easing bit by bit, and Sansa's colour coming back, that felt like the priority right now, rather than rationing and hurrying on.

It was only into the third hour, when he could sense himself drifting off, and Sansa already had, little sighs leaving her lips, curled up against him, did he know they couldn't remain any longer. They were next to a battle, without a horse, minimal food and no water left, they had to move on.

"Come on" He said gently, nudging Sansa, waking her as gently as possible, "We've got to get going" He said, and she nodded, but didn't move.

"Where?" The fear in her voice was real, and he wished he could soothe it, but in truth Jaime felt it too – she was right, where did they go?

They had in a way had it easy so far, with a horse, food, water, and now they had no horse, hardly any food and no water. They were far more vulnerable than they had been, and on the road that meant closer to death. Sansa was right to be scared, he was too, and yet he couldn't show it, and instead gently eased her from his lap, stood, and was thankful that he was steady on his feet as he pulled Sansa to hers.

"We'll walk East" He said with a nod, trying to sound confident, but he and Sansa knew one another too well now, and she looked at him with those piercing blue eyes, and could easily see past his bravado, "To the Vale, there's farms on the way there, hopefully we get lucky"

"Hopefully?" She asked, trembling again.

Once more he pulled her close, his hand going to her hair, and as before he felt something relax in him as she went into his embrace. When had she started having such an effect on him? And he her? As he felt her stop shaking, both of their shoulders sagging at the feeling of holding one another.

Was it weakness? Cersei would have said so, to need one another, but he didn't think so, to him it felt like strength.

The strength they drew from another, the strength that came from having Sansa in his arms, his solace, his solemn vow, his constant reminder;

Protect her.

And he would.

Always.

"I'll protect you" He promised, and her instant nod, no hesitation, just trust, had the pain in his chest erased, forgotten, and he pulled away from her, but only to take her hand, "I promise"

"I know" That was all he needed, and they gathered the small number of things they had left, a blanket each, his tied around his waist, hers over her shoulders, a bag, his with two apples, hers with some dried meat, and the empty water skins. His sword remained at his belt, and two daggers, though one he handed to her.

"For me?" She asked, eyes widening, nervous. Sansa was a fighter in many ways, but not practically, unfortunately now she had no choice.

"Just in case" He said, and she nodded, though she looked at it with fear, before sliding it into the pocket of her dress. He hoped she didn't have to use it, but he wouldn't leave her unarmed.

"To a farm?" She asked then and he nodded and pointed to the right of the burning village. The screams had died now, and he knew whoever had burned it had moved on. The sky had darkened, offering them some cover, though the flames illuminated the area, and it wasn't quite night yet, that was good, he hoped to be less out in the open by then.

"A farm" He didn't say what he'd need to do if they found one occupied, and instead lead them forward, Sansa's hand small and warm in his, as he led them into the night, more vulnerable than they'd ever been, and yet, with Sansa close to him, her presence so what he needed, he felt strong.

sooo thoughts?

ACTION PACKED

oof I was sweating writing this chapter out of sheer fear and I knew the ending! tense is the word I'd use! I do hope you enjoyed the ride, and on to a far more vulnerable duo, our journey is far from over!

I enjoyed writing both in-depth pov's again, and we will have more coming up! I haven't forgotten kings landing I promise!

anywho, do lemme know your thoughts and fav/follow for updates if ya like

speak soon