Rage fueled him for five days. It consumed him, burned him from the inside as he marched the three armies toward the Twins, making the trip two days ahead of schedule. He had five days to mull over the abandonment, the recklessness, the sheer stupidity of her act. When he woke that morning to an empty bed, he assumed she was using the privy. After a short search of their quarters, he had dressed and summoned his squire to search the castle, only to find that Red Walder, Perwyn Frey, and the Crakehalls were missing too.

It had been a chaotic morning in Riverrun after Sansa's disappearance. Servants and squires ran about, gathering what their lords needed for battle. Jaime had given them an hour to ready themselves. Robb had tried to reason with him, to tell him that it was done, that there was nothing they could do about it now. He tried to tell him that they should stick to their original plan. Jaime had drawn his sword on the young king, yelling that Sansa was in danger, that they all were in danger because of her.

Josmyn had been brought before him, Robb, and Edmure just before they left Riverrun, implicated in the escape of Red Walder and Sansa. Shaking where he stood, the boy looked likely to piss himself. They made the mistake of letting the Hound bear witness to the confession. He unsheathed his greatsword and split the boy in two, right in the Great Hall. Jaime didn't do a thing about it, just strode out of the chamber as if nothing had happened. That was when Podrick Payne had arrived, confused by the three armies gathered, by the alliance, by everything. Jaime didn't blame the young man, it still confused him. Sansa had a way of uniting the men, but she was gone now and he feared they would be torn apart on their journey.

Jaime didn't grieve for Josmyn until days later when he let himself feel anything but hate again. He had grown fond of the boy called "Peck." Podrick seemed adequate enough, with a little training. He enlisted Brienne to help with that on the way to the Twins, he couldn't stomach it.

"My lord," Jaime looked up to find Brienne holding open the flap to his tent. They were seven leagues from the Twins and would arrive around midday. He looked at her expectantly and she continued, "The Crakehalls await you."

Jaime nodded and folded up Sansa's letter, tucking it into his tunic. He had read it more times than he cared to admit and still couldn't make sense of it. He fastened his sword to his side and followed Brienne out of the tent.

"You look awful," she commented as she led him toward the large tent erected in the center of camp.

"You're no ray of sunshine either," he spat back, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I mean to say that you need to take care of yourself," she offered.

"I am fine."

Brienne scowled and grabbed the collar of Jaime's leather tunic, spinning him to face her. "You're not fine; what Lady Sansa did was awful, but have some dignity. You're a lord, Jaime, you can't let others see you like this."

"Just you?"

Her eyes softened before she blinked rapidly and released him, stalking toward the tent. Jaime followed slowly, straightening his tunic as he went. He slipped under the tent flap and his eyes found the three Crakehalls chained together on the other side of the table they used for their war council.

All three of them had bruises on their faces despite the fact that he knew they had been waiting for the armies. He walked toward them and was met with hard stares from all three brothers; they were standing together for whatever punishment he gave them. He met their gazes before he said, "Free them."

Brienne glared at him. "You can't be serious."

"I said free them," he growled. "Unless you want to go to battle without them."

She held his glare for several moments before she released their bonds. The Crakehalls rubbed their wrists and stared at him, dumbfounded by their good fortune but too smart to question it. Jaime said, "Go, prepare for battle. I'll hear about your reasoning later."

They nodded and left the tent. Brienne stared at him openly and he muttered, "If you have something to say, say it."

"Those men kidnapped your wife and took—"

"Kidnapped? She went willingly, Brienne, and we both know it. Don't mistake perceived events for actuality," he said calmly. "We both know the type of person Sansa is: immature, vain, inconsiderate. She did this to spite me."

"Jaime, that's your anger talking," Brienne said quietly.

"Let it talk! It is the only thing speaking logic lately," he said harshly. He waved her away. "Get the others, it's time for our council."

She nodded and left the tent without a word. Jaime brought himself before the large table and studied the map that had been laid out there. He knew the plan backwards and forwards, but it wouldn't hurt to go over it once more.

Brienne returned not long after with the other officers. Robb and Edmure arrived first, followed by the Blackfish and the Hound. Daven Lannister, Jason Mallister, Dacey Mormont, Tytos Blackwood, Jonos Bracken, Marq Piper, and Karyl Vance trickled in after. Jaime commented once they were all settled, "There seem to be a lot of fish here."

"Don't start, Lannister," Robb barked. "The Tullys attack from two sides, they have more commanders."

Jaime mumbled a reply and no one pressed for what it was. Robb went over the plan again: the Lannisters attack the western tower at Jaime's command; when the garrison comes out of the twins, Edmure's boats launch from the northern banks while Brynden's boats launch from the southern banks; the Starks launch down from the tree line to aid the Lannister army and storm the castle.

"Who are the threats?" Daven Lannister asked, staring at the map.

"Ser Hosteen is their fiercest fighter, 6th son of Frey," Jaime answered, not looking at anyone in particular. "Then there's Merrett. I squired with him at Crakehall. A bit dull, but strong. He's a drunk though, we may not have to worry over him."

"What of Ryman?" Jason Mallister asked.

Robb waved it off. "Likely will be in the privy when we arrive — bad belly."

"And Ryman's sons?" Jason pressed.

"The elder two are threats," Jaime began. "I don't think we need to fear Petyr Pimple, as he's called. But Black Walder and Edwyn, both are dangerous and should be dealt with swiftly."

"Frey's eldest living, Emmon and Aenys, aren't much of fighters. We'll likely find them in the Great Hall with the man himself." Robb said, looking around the room at each face. "We kill all of them."

Jaime was already astride his destrier by the time the sun rose the following morning. He rode quietly next to Podrick Payne who filled the silence with the tale of how Tyrion had sent him away. Jaime didn't mind the distraction, he even welcomed it, anything to take his mind off of what he would say to Sansa when he finally saw her again. It wasn't until the armies broke apart that his thoughts were clouded by her.

He rode the rest of the way overwhelmed by the thought that they were too late. That Walder Frey had already killed her and their child. He was forced to keep his pace, assuring that his foot soldiers kept up.

He crested the hill and the Twins' western tower came into view. Tents were set up outside, men milling around, ready for the battle to come. He knew they had lost their element of surprise when Sansa left, but he hadn't expected Walder Frey to gather a garrison like this. He glanced at Brienne to his right and she looked grim.

"I go down alone," Jaime said quietly.

"You can't be serious," she whispered, her eyes wide. "At least take your guard."

He shook his head. "It was my wife's stupidity that let them know we were coming. I will do this alone. When I give the signal, lead the charge yourself, Brienne."

"Jaime—"

"Promise me," he snapped, staring hard at her. Slowly, she nodded and he kicked his horse into a gallop down the hill. A group of Frey men was making their way from the camp toward him to meet.

He hopped off of his horse and strode across the distance that separated them. He scanned the faces of the Frey men, recognizing them instantly: Black Walder, Aenys, Rhaegar, and Merrett.

"Where is the Young Wolf?" Ser Aenys asked, his watery eyes scanning the Lannister host that gathered on the hill.

"Escaped in the night," Jaime said, meeting Aenys' hard gaze when it dawned on him what he had said.

"What do you mean 'escaped in the night?'" Merrett asked, his voice shaking. Jaime wondered if it was due to the lack of alcohol in hand or the fact that his father would not be happy that Robb Stark wasn't being handed over.

"How slow do I have to speak for a Frey to understand?" Jaime goaded, a smirk playing at his lips. He elongated each syllable for emphasis as he spoke again, "Robb Stark is gone, probably halfway back to Winterfell by now."

Black Walder's eyes flashed dangerously. "And what are we supposed to do with you?"

Jaime scratched the back of his head and heard the clatter of hundreds of hooves on the hill behind him. "I think you know exactly what happens now."

He unsheathed Oathkeeper and sliced through Merrett before any steel was drawn. Black Walder's sword met his moments later. He struck his sword swiftly through Aenys' neck as Black swung. He was forced to roll out of the way as Black Walder's sword came slashing toward him. Jaime tumbled along the ground, springing to his feet several yards from the two Freys. The host behind them had risen to action, running toward the Lannister forces and signaling to the tower for reinforcements.

The song of steel played its music for the men as the two hosts clashed together. The shouts were its verses, the screams of dying men its chorus. He met Benfrey, Rhaegar, and Edwyn Frey before Black Walder came for him again. He sliced his sword through Frey's chain mail. Black swung for Jaime's head and he ducked. He made to swing but Black caught him round the helm with the butt of his sword. Jaime fell on his ass, looking up at Black Walder, his sword out of reach. The man smirked at him as he raised his sword. An arrow pierced the back of Black's neck and blood bubbled on his lips. Jaime looked behind him and saw Brynden Tully standing in a boat that was being rowed down the river toward the bridge. He nodded to Jaime before loading his bow again.

Once the Tullys and Starks joined the fray, it was all over for the men of the Twins. Jaime sliced through Ryman Frey before making his way into the western tower under the distraction the two new armies provided. He heard thundering footfalls behind him and glanced over his shoulder, sword at the ready, only to find Brienne and the Crakehalls at his heels.

They burst through the doors of the Great Hall and were met with the swords of Hosteen, Petyr, and Walton Frey. Jaime let the others deal with them after sidestepping a clumsy jab from Petyr. Hosteen was the only warrior of the group.

"You'll forgive me for not kneeling — you are king now, I presume?" Walder Frey's beady eyes were on Jaime Lannister as he strode toward him, armor dripping with blood. The silence behind him told him that the three Frey men were dead.

"We have too many kings, I won't burden the realm with another." Jaime said, gripping the hilt of Oathkeeper.

"Heh, wise," Frey commented. "I see you've killed many of my children. I'll just make more."

Jaime shook his head, still walking toward him. "You won't have the chance, old man."

"Won't I?" Frey said, eyebrows raising a fraction of an inch. "I still have a chip to play."

He snapped his feeble fingers and one of the doors leading from the hall opened. Lothar Frey walked in, dragging Sansa behind him. Red Walder and Perwyn followed them.

"Jaime!" Sansa cried out, her eyes meeting his as she struggled against Lothar's grip.

"Kill the bitch," Frey commanded. Perwyn stepped up and nodded toward his father. He drew his sword and swung. Lothar's body crumbled to the floor, twitching as the blood pumped out of the neck wound onto the flagstones.

Sansa stared down at the body, ignoring the blood that covered her face. She met Jaime's eyes, he quickly averted his and strode up the steps to where Frey sat. Jaime stood before the Lord of the Crossing and looked down at his sword before meeting Walder Frey's eyes.

He wheezed out, "Oh, just get on with it then."

Oathkeeper plunged into Walder Frey's heart, Jaime watched the life leave his eyes. He withdrew and stepped back as the wizened man's body slumped forward. He called over his shoulder, "Merlon, Lyle, let Robb and Edmure know what has happened. End the fighting."

The two younger Crakehalls nodded and left the room, glad to be gone. The tension hadn't dissipated with the death of Walder Frey, it had increased. Jaime began to walk toward Brienne and Tybolt, preparing to leave without a word to his wife, Red Walder, or Perwyn when she called out his name.

Sansa hurried across the flagstones toward him, but Jaime held up his hand, causing her to halt in her long strides. He growled, "Don't." He could hear the tears thick in her throat as she said his name again. He shook his head and continued out the door.

He didn't returned for many hours, not until the battle was finished. He strode into the room with Robb and Edmure. The King in the North sighed with relief at the sight of his sister; he rushed across the room to her and swept her up in a hug. Jaime walked toward the two Frey men.

Oathkeeper, dripping red with the blood of too many men to count, turned on Red Walder. Sansa cried, "Jaime, don't!"

"And why not? Why should I forgive any of you for what you did?" He asked, screwing his eyes up hard to keep his emotions in check. He could barely look at her without being overwhelmed by the conflicting thoughts — he wanted to hug her, to slap her, to yell at her, to kiss her.

"Are you mad, Lannister?" Robb asked, tightening his grip on Sansa but she pulled away from him. She walked timidly toward her husband until she was a few feet from him.

"If you truly care for me," Sansa said quietly, "please don't harm them. They saved me from Ser Dafyn Vance after you left. I owe them my life."

Jaime glared at her harshly for nearly a minute, taking in the tears on her face, the heartbreak written on every inch of her skin. He let his sword clatter to the floor and spat, "I won't be a kinslayer again. But I owe them nothing more."

He continued to glare at Sansa as he added, "I owe you nothing more."