Sansa insisted they leave as soon as possible. Jaime was more than happy to oblige, he wished to get her away from King's Landing as quick as possible. Joffrey hadn't been happy that he was losing his plaything; Lord Tywin hadn't told him that they were leaving so soon after their wedding. Jaime had realized the urgency when he found the king attempting to sneak into their bedchamber late one night to get to Sansa a few days after their wedding. He had nearly sliced the throat of the boy king with the dagger he kept near the bed. Joffrey had not been pleased as he walked away with a small cut on his neck. Jaime took Sansa the very next morning before the break of day with eight of his best red cloaks and his squire, telling the rest of their red cloaks to join them with their belongings as soon as possible. He wouldn't have Sansa hurt by delaying any longer.

Jaime made them ride at a hard canter for all of the morning and a better part of the afternoon, wanting to put as much distance between Sansa and the king as possible. As the sky turned pink, he slowed their group and ordered them to stop under the protection of a cluster of trees near the forest. As the red cloaks dismounted and began to set up camp, Jaime helped Sansa from her horse. She nearly collapsed in his arms.

"Are you okay, my lady?"

"I've never been good at riding horses, I'm afraid." She admitted to him. "I never thought it a skill I would need."

Jaime smiled gently at her. "I fear you were wrong."

"As do I."

"Come, let's get some food in your belly." Two red cloaks had already disappeared into the forest to hunt some game for dinner. Jaime gathered wood for a fire as Sansa sat on a log, waiting for warmth. It had been a cold, misty day and she felt a shiver run through her spine, thinking that Joffrey had sent riders after them to bring her back.

Jaime crouched in front of Sansa and built the fire. Flames danced before her eyes in no time and her husband sat next to her on the log, warming his hands.

"Lord Lewys will receive us in Deep Den but until then, there are few inns to stay at. We will spend many-a night beneath the stars, my lady." Jaime said. "I apologize for the chill that will set in your bones on the way to the Rock."

Sansa leaned against him and wrapped her arms around his right arm, resting her head against his shoulder. "You'll do your best to keep me warm, I'm sure, my lord."

Jaime looked sideways at her as best he could. She had become so bold when it concerned him. She even took charge in their most recent romp, the previous night. She should hate him, hate him for all that he and his family has done to her family and her. But all that she seemed to have focused on was the fact that her marriage to him was saving her from Joffrey's brutality. She was able to forgive the rest of it if she could escape the king.

Jaime kissed her forehead as his squire, Josmyn Peckledon, came over, holding a scroll. "A raven just came, my lord."

"And?" He asked, taking the scroll from him.

"The Young Wolf marches on us."

Jaime stiffened and unrolled the scroll against his knee with his left hand.

His howl fills the air and his teeth are sharp to take the Lion's head.

He hadn't thought the boy would be foolish enough to do this. "Who sent this?"

"Walder Frey." The boy said. "The King in the North broke another pact with him and the old man demands blood."

Jaime looked at Sansa. She was confused as he handed her the scroll so she could read it herself. She asked, "He wants your head, why?"

"He hates me. Simple as that." Jaime said. He added bitterly, "And he will want to take you back, no doubt."

"Back?" She asked, frowning. "I'm your wife. Does he know that?"

"That is why he marches on us, my dear." Jaime said, wrapping his arm around her. "He thinks I have my claws in you."

"If I could speak to Robb. Tell him that it is much the other way around. I have my claws in you, Ser. You have saved me from the king. I will never be able to repay you for that." Sansa said, looking away from his shyly.

"There's no need to repay me, I am your husband." He said, smiling. He tipped her by the chin to force her to look at him. "Besides, I promised your mother I would get you to safety."

"Is that where we're going, Ser Jaime? To safety?"

"Yes. No one will harm you again, my lady." Sansa leaned up and kissed him full on the mouth. The young squire blushed and walked away. Jaime smiled against her lips but pulled away as he heard the crunch of boots in the grass. Brienne of Tarth and Ser Samwell Spicer had returned from their hunt. They had skinned the rabbits and set them over the fire to cook.

Jaime and Sansa sat in silence as they watched the meat cook, their stomaches growling. Jaime hadn't wanted to stop at all all day for fear of Joffrey sending men after them. The more distance between King's Landing and them, the better. They would leave again before break of day on the morrow and ride all day again.

Ser Tybolt Crakehall pulled up another log to rest across the fire from Jaime and Sansa's. His two younger brothers, Ser Lyle the Strongboar and Ser Merlon, sat on either side of him. Jaime's squire sat next to Jaime on the ground. Ser Steffon Swyft was patrolling the woods with Ser Peter Plumm. Ser Robert Brax finished setting up the camp before joining them around the fire.

As the rabbits finished and they feasted on the meat, Strongboar asked, "What are we to do about the Young Wolf, my lord?"

All eyes were on Jaime, even his young wife's. Jaime chewed the meat in his mouth as he thought. Upon swallowing, he said, "If they reach us before we arrive at the Rock, we are all dead except for Lady Sansa."

"If I can speak to Robb…" Sansa began.

Brienne said, "Your brother will not be reasoned with. He only sees the wrongs of House Lannister, my lady."

"But if I can tell him I am in no danger…"

"It will not work, Lady Sansa." Ser Robert said. "You do not understand the minds of men. Once an idea is there, it is there to stay."

"Your brother is out for blood and he will not stop until blood is repaid in his mind." Jaime said, looking at his wife. Sansa sighed and nodded.

"You won't destroy my brother's army, will you?"

Jaime frowned as he said, "I don't know, Sansa."

That night, as they lay in their tent together, Jaime couldn't stop thinking of Robb Stark's stupidity. Sansa was safe with Jaime. The real danger for her was back in King's Landing. She had escaped it. Now her brother was bringing new danger to her. Robb was putting her and Jaime in danger and was threatening Jaime's life. Sansa rolled over and wrapped herself against Jaime. She saw that he was awake and staring at the ceiling, his head resting on his arm that was bent back. She reached up and ran her hand over the light stubble forming on his face. He hadn't shaved since their wedding and she surprisingly liked it.

Jaime looked down at her touch and she saw worry in his eyes. She sat up and placed her hand on his chest. His arm with the metal hand curled around her waist, pulling her more against him. She asked, "What is it?"

"I wonder if you would be safer in King's Landing."

She shook her head. "I'm safer with you."

He frowned, it affected his whole face. "I don't know about that, my dear. Your brother wants my head."

"I won't let him take it." She said, placing a kiss on his furrowed brow. "You are mine and I am yours."

He smiled sadly at her. "You can't stop an army, Sansa. Just pray we reach Casterly Rock before your brother is upon us."

"I lost my faith long ago, my lord." She said, resting her head on his chest as she wrapped her arms around him.

He just nodded. He had lost his too, having seen such horrible things in battle. He figured his last shred of faith had left him when Aerys Targaryen ordered his pyromancer to burn the city nearly 20 years ago. Driving his sword through the king's back had sealed his future as a faithless man.

"We should get some sleep, we have a long day of riding tomorrow." Jaime said quietly. Sansa nodded against his chest. Neither of them closed their eyes. Sansa traced circles in his chest hair as Jaime continued to stare at the ceiling, thinking of all of the possible ways Robb Stark could kill him if his army beat them to Casterly Rock.

He felt wetness on his chest and knew that Sansa was crying but he didn't want to mention it. She was being strong, taking this new life that was thrown at her in stride. She was a resilient woman and Jaime admired her for it. She wouldn't have lasted as long as she did in the capital if she wasn't one.

He said quietly, in something less than a whisper, "I was the Lion in the Wolf's den while you were the Wolf in the Lion's den." He felt her wipe her tears. "Now what are we, Lady Stark?"

"Lannister." She whispered back.

"What?" He looked down at her as best he could, only seeing the top of her auburn hair.

She pushed off his chest and looked at him. "I'm Sansa Lannister now. I may be a Stark, but no longer in name."

"You will always be a Stark to me."

"Why do you say that?"

"The Starks are courageous, honorable. Nothing like the Lannisters. Someone once said we have a lust for power, that we're arrogant."

"And is that person dead?"

"No. Alive and well." Jaime said, smiling. "That person was your mother."

"My mother?"
"Yes, she said it to my brother Tyrion."

"Do you believe her right?"

"About my house? Absolutely. About me? Not anymore." Jaime said quietly. After several moments, he said, "I was once as arrogant as can be. Possibly the most arrogant man in the Seven Kingdoms. I loved someone I shouldn't have, fathered children who never should have been conceived. Everyone once thought me the brave hero who fought with honor on the battlefield. Then Rhaegar Targaryen stole your aunt from Robert Baratheon and started the damn war. And I stabbed Aerys through the back then slit his throat for good measure. I've been the Kingslayer ever since."

Sansa spoke in barely a whisper, running her hand along his jaw, "Why did you kill the king?"

He frowned. "Do you want the long story or the short one, my lady?"

"Do it justice, my lord husband."

He smiled and chose his words carefully. "The Mad King was obsessed with wildfire, he loved the way people burned, how their skin blackened and melted from their bones. He burned those he didn't like, no matter their nobility. Your grandfather was one such nobleman. He had his pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city when he realized half the country was against him. The day came when Robert Baratheon marched on the capital after his victory at the Trident and after killing the king's eldest son and heir. My father arrived first with our whole army at his back, he promised to defend the city against the rebels, but I knew him better than that. I urged the king to surrender. Aerys didn't listen to me nor Varys, who warned him against my father's true motives; he listened instead to Grand Maester Pycelle. We opened the gates and my father sacked the city.

"Again, I urged Aerys to surrender. He told me to bring him my father's head. He then turned to his pyromancer and said, 'Burn them all. Burn them in their homes. Burn them in their beds.' I couldn't stand by and let thousands of men, women, and children burn alive. How could I? I wouldn't keep my oath, not then. I killed the pyromancer as he ran to set the town afire. And then, when the king turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. He kept repeating, 'Burn them all. Burn them all.' I think he intended to burn with the rest of us and be reborn into a dragon to turn the rest of his enemies to ash. He meant to set all of Westeros aflame."

Sansa's eyes hadn't left his as he spoke. He placed a hand on her cheek and said, "They call me the Kingslayer as an insult, Sansa. But, killing Aerys Targaryen was the proudest moment of my life."

"Are there things you're not proud of?" She turned from his hand and pulled away from him. He knew what she was talking about, of course. He let her withdraw from him, he deserved it.

"In war?" He asked. "No."

"No, not in war."

"I'm not proud of a lot of things, Sansa. Most involve your family." He said sadly. "One of my biggest regrets is attacking your father in the streets of King's Landing. I've always been quick to act on my temper and my family meant a great deal to me then. But, I feel that I am at fault for your father's death.

"And then there's Bran." Sansa saw how pained he was as she looked back at him. "I pushed him from the window because he saw Cersei and I…in a compromising position. It is my biggest regret to this day, my lady."

Sansa turned around and slapped her lord husband across the face so hard that it would leave a mark for days to come. She then turned over with her back facing him. She was silent but Jaime could see her shoulders shaking slightly. Jaime turned his head and stared at the ceiling again, wishing that he had never opened his mouth, but he was a little glad that it was all out in the open. Honesty, he had been told, was important to a relationship. He ran a hand over his face, feeling the sting of the slap. It may hurt, but she was hurting worse. He said quietly, "I'm sorry, Sansa."

She remained silent. He turned to her, propping himself up on his side, placing his head in his metal hand. He didn't want her to go to bed angry at him, she would dream of her brother falling from the broken tower or her father's execution. "Sansa. Please."

She turned to him, he saw the tears in her eyes and along her cheeks. She looked at the redness on his cheek, just below his left eye. She said, "Go back to that day in Winterfell. Don't fuck your twin sister. Don't push Brandon Stark out of the window. Don't maim my father in the street. Don't lead an army against my brother…"

It all sounded so much more harsh coming from Sansa. Jaime took her face in his hands. She shivered at the coldness of the metal. "Sansa, if I could change the past, I would. I was a cruel, vain idiot. But you have to know, I did it all for love and family. Is there anything you wouldn't do for love and family?"

"Yes." She was looking at him coldly. He wondered what she was thinking but he had a feeling it was along the lines of hurting him like he had hurt her.

"You are my family now. You're my only love." He said sincerely.

"Oh? What of Cersei?"

"What of her?"

"You don't love her?"

"After all she did to me? She cheated on me, humiliated me, lied to me." He said, looking into Sansa's eyes. "I couldn't love her again."

Sansa continued to frown as her blue eyes meeting Jaime's green. "But you did love her."

"Yes." He admitted. "Everything they said about us is true. The king, the prince, and the princess are all mine. None of them should exist but if we were the Targaryens, no one would bat an eye. But since we're the Lannisters, the proud fucking Lannisters, everyone is disgusted by us. I am too. I just hope you can forgive me."

She didn't know what to say. She knew that it was all true. She knew it when she married him. She knew it because her father had said it. Her father had been a honest man and wouldn't have accused Cersei of it had it not been true. But, Jaime wasn't that man anymore, Sansa knew it. She leaned her head into his real hand and closed her eyes. "I hope I can too."

I was going to end the chapter after the slap but then I watched the finale of Season 5 and didn't want Jaime and Sansa to be too mad at each other because their lives went to shit in the show. (RIP everyone)