The bruise on his face was as noticeable as his green eyes, his blond hair, or his tanned skin. He rode to her right so she could see it every time she glanced at him. She felt ashamed when she saw it but then she remembered why she had done it and her guilt dissolved in an instant. It had been over a week since the incident yet the bruise wasn't fading, neither was her anger at him.

They neared Deep Den, the seat of House Lydden; they would reach it in time for supper. Sansa's stomach growled in hunger as the sun began to set, changing to an odd orange. She could see the Den in the distance and wished they would ride faster. The mountain at its back, the castle stood tall and formidable. Sansa hadn't felt safe since she left Winterfell years ago, but she felt that the castle ahead would provide some sense of security.

Jaime hadn't looked at her since they set off early that morning. He had placed her on her horse, pulled himself onto his, and cantered off. The couple rode in silence all day, Sansa listening to the talk of the men rather than engage in conversation with her lord husband.

The Crakehall brothers were a lively group. Ser Lyle the Strongboar was a loud, proud man who thirsted for blood. He talked of killing the Hound and Ser Brynden the Blackfish specifically. Sansa wished to know the reason behind it, but she didn't want to ask. Truthfully, he frightened her. His elder brother, Ser Tybolt, was a nicer man, quiet except when spoken to. She thought he would be a good leader and wondered if he had commanded garrisons earlier in the war. The younger brother, Ser Merlon, seemed to be there just to do his duty and because his brothers had told him he had to be apart of their convoy. They had been separated for the first part of the war and the Crakehalls wished to be together again. She didn't blame them, she longed to be reunited with her family. And if there was any truth to that message several days ago, they marched to reclaim her.

She wondered what they would do to Jaime or what he would do to them. She wished the animosity between the Starks and Lannisters would disappear so she could be happy with both her lord husband and her mother and brothers. It would have to begin with her; she vowed to forgive Jaime for his transgressions when they finally would be able to talk at Deep Den in their chamber.

Lord Lewys Lydden waited at the gate of Deep Den to greet them personally. His banner, a white badger on a brown and green background, stood next to him in the dirt. "Ser Jaime! Lady Sansa! Welcome to the Den."

"Many thanks, Lord Lewys." Jaime said as they road into the courtyard and dismounted. He clasped Lewys' hand and smiled. "We've had a long ride from King's Landing and this is the first chance of a real bed."

"Stuffed with feathers just for you, Ser." Lord Lewys' voice oozed charm just for the Kingslayer.

"We thank you for your hospitality, my lord." Sansa said as Ser Peter Plumm, a large man with a thick neck, helped her from her horse. She wished it was her lord husband's hands on her waist but she didn't complain. His men were nice enough.

"You are most welcome, my lady." Lord Lewys said, smiling at her. "Come, let us feast."

The meal was large and lengthy, Sansa sat next to Ser Jaime at the head table at the end of the hall. Lord Lewys was on his left in the seat of House Lydden. Their men and Brienne sat at a table below theirs, feasting like kings and queens. Lord Lewys' household was littered throughout the hall, watching their guests warily. Anywhere the Kingslayer went, trouble followed, they felt.

Sansa sat in silence and waited until the feast ended and it was time to go to bed. As Jaime rose, Lord Lewys grabbed his arm. "News from the capital, my lord."

Jaime looked at Sansa and she knew she was to make her leave. A cousin of Lord Lewys showed her to her and Jaime's chamber, bidding her a goodnight. She dressed for bed and climbed into it, sinking into the feathers. After a week of hard riding and bed mats on the cold ground, the comfort of a real bed was a nice change.

She heard the door open when she was nearly asleep. The crash of a chair being knocked over caused her to open her eyes and sit up. Jaime stood over the broken chair with his back to her. His shoulders were tense but she could see them lightly shaking. He's crying.

"Jaime." Sansa said softly when she saw his fists clench like he was ready to punch something. He turned to her, tears in his eyes. She flung the blankets off of her and swung her legs out of the bed. She walked across the stone floor with trepidation, fearing he would strike her in his rage. His face was screwed up in pain, the tears flowing freely as he didn't try to hide them. "What is it, Jaime?"

"They killed him at his own wedding." His voice was quiet as he spoke, barely a whisper. It croaked with distress.

"Who?" She asked, taking his hands gingerly in her own. They were shaking and she tried to steady them.

"My…son. Joffrey. They poisoned him at his own wedding!" He yelled suddenly. She shrank away from him and released his hands. Jaime walked over to the bed and sat down, putting his face in his hand. Sansa approached him quietly and sat down next to him.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and took it as a good sign that he didn't shrug it off. "Who did it, Jaime?"

He raised his head and looked at her. "They say Tyrion but I don't believe it for a second. Sure, he hated the lad but he would never kill him, certainly not at his own wedding."

Sansa ran her hand through the back of his hair gently, trying to calm him. "Who then?"
"The Tyrells, maybe. Surely they didn't truly wish for Margaery to be wed to my monster of a son. Margaery just wanted to be queen. A true queen, not what she was with Renly." Jaime said.

He was quiet for several minutes, staring at the ground as she played with his hair softly. She said, "We can turn around and ride for King's Landing, if you wish."

Jaime looked at her and shook his head. "No. There's nothing I can do for Joffrey now. Tyrion is his own man, a half-man, but a man nonetheless. He will figure a way out of the trial, I'm sure."
"What of Tommen?"
"He'll be fine. Father will groom him for his kingship." Jaime said, taking her hand in his. "What I can do is keep you safe. We will continue for Casterly Rock as planned."

She looked at her hand in his and smiled. "Why are you working so hard to protect me?"
He placed his metal hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. "Why wouldn't I? You're my wife."

"I'm a Stark. My brother marches his army on you because I'm your wife." Sansa said quietly. "Neither of us wanted this."

"I know. But I don't hate you. I could never hate you, even when you ignore me for days on end." He wasn't looking at her now, but his metal hand still rested under her chin. She had grown to like the coolness of its touch.

"I'm sorry, Jaime." She said quietly. She reached up and ran her hand lightly over the purple bruise on his face. "I was upset…"

"Don't apologize. You have every right to be mad at me. I've inflicted horrors upon your family. By all logic, you should hate me. You shouldn't allow me into your bed. You should want to be as far away from me as possible."

"I remember you riding through the east gate of Winterfell." She said quietly. He let his metal hand drop to his side as he looked at her. "You looked so handsome in your white armor. Like the knights that I read of in my books as a child. I always dreamed I would marry a real knight." She placed her hand on his cheek affectionately, brushing her thumb over his skin, feeling the scrape of his stubble on her palm. "And now I have."

"You don't hate me simply because I'm a knight?" He laughed.

"No, Ser. I don't hate you because you're sweet. You protect me. You're my husband." She smiled at him. "You may be the Kingslayer but I know now why you slayed Aerys Targaryen. You're honorable, Jaime. People don't understand that about you."

He grinned and shook his head. "No, I suppose they don't. And they likely never will."

"They will. I'll make sure of it."

They stayed like that for a while, their hands clasped and her hand on his cheek. Sansa leaned forward and placed her forehead against his. He whispered, breathing the same air as her, "I will not meet Robb on a battlefield. If I do, it will be with a white flag of surrender."

"Jaime…"

"Sansa, if you wish to go with your family, I will not stop you."

"What I wish, Ser, is to live happily with you in Casterly Rock. I wish for my family to visit and for the Lannisters and Starks to get along."

"I'm unsure of the likelihood of that." Jaime said quietly. "But if you can make it happen, I'm willing to make amends with your family."

Sansa kissed him suddenly. Jaime was taken aback by it and didn't respond. She pulled away from him and for once, she didn't look shy. Jaime ran his real hand over her cheek and curled it around her neck, pulling her against him. His lips crashed against hers and wrapped his metal hand around her waist. Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck and straddled his hips.

Surprised as he was, Jaime kissed her with zeal. Sansa's lips moved against his like she hungered for them, for him. She tugged at the strings of his leather tunic and helped him pull it off, along with his under tunic. She ran her hand along his chest, still surprised at the muscles he possessed. Jaime smiled at her before unlacing her shift and pulling it over her head. Naked, she slid off of his lap, her feet landing on the floor. Jaime stood and walked to her, kissing her passionately. He undid the laces of his breeches and they fell in a puddle on the ground. Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling their naked bodies together. Jaime backed them up to the bed and lowered her onto it.

He hovered over her and ran his thumb over her lip, he looked at it with a hunger that only she could satisfy. He leaned down and kissed her but she pushed him away. She asked, "Can you do that thing with your mouth again?" She motioned down to her womanhood with a blush and he smiled, kissing her lips quickly before kissing his way down her body. He settled between her legs and looked up at her under hooded lids as he ran his tongue over her womanhood. She slid her hand into his hair and held on tight as he sucked on her clit. He slid two fingers into her and she let out a loud moan, her fingernails scraping his scalp. Jaime filled his mouth with the taste of her. Soon enough, after mere minutes of his ministrations, Sansa was lost in the throes of passion.

Sansa pulled him up by his hair and kissed him, gasping into his mouth as his manhood entered her. He thrust into her hard, gripping her breast with his left hand and flicking her nipple with his thumb. Sansa moaned and held onto his shoulders as he fucked her as hard and as deep as he could. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his eyes were closed, lost to the pleasure that was spreading through him. Sansa ran her hand along his jaw and his eyes flashed open, they were wild and he meant to devour her. He leaned down and claimed her lips, biting her lower one between his teeth. She gripped his hair tightly as she felt him tense up. Her name tumbled from his lips as he released inside of her. He lowered himself gently on top of her, their sweaty bodies forming one as they fought to control their breathing. He rolled off of her but didn't go far.

Jaime lay with his head on her breast, rubbing small circles on her hip with his thumb. His breath on her skin tickled but she didn't mind. She ran her fingers lazily through his hair and along his stubble, realizing that she could get used to this. She could love a Lannister.