Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews and continued support! I've got a ton of free time for the summer, so I am hoping and praying that I can finally wrap up this story. Expect to see this updated weekly for a while. I love this story so I'm thrilled to be back full time. Enjoy the newest update!

Amarah had sat through her share of uncomfortable family meals in the past. It was hardly possible to sit across a table from Cersei Lannister without feeling some level of discomfort, and Amarah had been subjected to many meals with the spiteful queen during her time growing up in the capital. Despite the tense silence at those meals however, they had lacked the level of awkwardness that she now felt sitting across from her cousin, now named Lord Commander of Castle Black.

The meals with Cersei, while fraught with unspoken tension, had never made her ill at ease because she knew she despised the woman sitting across from her. Amarah felt no such hatred towards Jon. In fact, her feelings were quite the opposite. That was why the quick glances at each other over their plates of food, with no casual remark to break the silence, stretched her nerves so tightly that she felt she might snap in half at any moment.

She had come down to find Jon by himself in the great hall with Jaime already disappeared. Aside from a quick inquiry as to the Lannister knight's whereabouts, she had spoken no other words since joining her cousin in a feast of roasted rabbits and boiled potatoes. Amarah had waited for his inevitable questions that were sure to spring to mind after coming face to face with the unexpected alliance between herself and the Kingslayer, but she was bound to be disappointed in that respect. The only question that fell from his lips regarded her preference for vegetables. Nothing was uttered about the attack on the keep or her presence in the North.

So there she sat, silently sawing away at a vigorously cooked leg of rabbit, her knife scraping harshly against the earthenware plate beneath it. The irritating sound did little to soothe her strained nerves. Giving up with a grunt of dissatisfaction, she let the fork and knife fall from her hands with a dull thud and turned a mutinous glare on her dinner companion. He took an infuriatingly long amount of time to notice her stare, and when he did, he merely finished with the last bite of his boiled vegetables before wiping his beard with the back of his hand and taking a leisurely sip of wine.

Jon swallowed the contents of the goblet before clunking it back down and raised one brow in her direction. "You seem displeased, my lady."

His neglect of her proper name only helped egg on her unpleasant mood. "Should I be pleased?" she shot back at him before taking a sip from her own goblet. Hastily licking the drops form her lips, she fixed him with a determined gaze. "I confess I had expected a happier reunion if not a more talkative one."

Jon's stoic expression slipped a fraction at her complaint, and she caught a flash of humor in his somber eyes. "If I remember correctly, you always preferred to make most of the conversation over a meal. I was simply offering you the chance to speak while filling my empty stomach at the same time. Forgive me if my silence was not what you expected. I was never as talkative as you."

"But surely you must have questions to ask me," Amarah huffed, ignoring his comment about her need to be the center of every conversation.

"I do have many questions that I would like answered," Jon answered, the humor now gone from his eyes. "They concern more than just you, however."

Amarah understood then that he had wanted to question both Jaime and her together, but he had not counted on the fact that the Kingslayer would be absent from the hall. Amarah wondered then if she should explain that Jaime had chosen not to eat in the company of others as his golden hand made for an awkward dinner companion, but she decided against it. She doubted Jaime would appreciate being made to appear weak in front of a man he still considered an enemy.

"Brienne," Amarah looked away from Jon's waiting expression to catch her knight's attention. "Please inform Ser Jaime that he will have to forgo his practice with Ilyn Payne tonight."

Brienne nodded in agreement before departing swiftly, the clanking of her metal armor echoing in her wake. Amarah looked back to find Jon staring with a quizzical tilt of his brows at the departing knight. "Where did you find her?" he asked, finally speaking the first of many questions.

"She was part of Renly's kingsguard," Amarah explained, pausing to take another lengthy sip from her goblet. Unlike Jon's, her cup was filled only with water. "When she was unable to save him from Stannis's witchcraft, she entered my service."

The look in Jon's eyes sharpened at Amarah's mention of witchcraft. "What do you know of the red woman that followed him?"

"I know nothing of her," Amarah answered honestly with an unconcerned shrug. "I only know she practiced some kind of dark magic that seemed to have enslaved my uncle's loyalty. Frankly, I was surprised to find he had traveled here without her. Is she still at Castle Black?"

Jon nodded his head in affirmation. "Yes, though I don't know how much longer she'll stay. She seems to be waiting for something to happen, something that will fulfill one of her prophecies. She makes me very uneasy to be perfectly honest."

Amarah had suspected that Stannis's red woman had found another man to latch onto with her prophecies of gods reborn and dark, unspoken terrors. Though she didn't speak the thought aloud, she wondered if Jon had been unfortunate enough to draw her attention. Shaking her head to clear it of thoughts of the red witch, she steered the conversation down a different path.

"Do you plan to stay long at Winterfell?"

Jon had been staring down at his empty plate but met her eyes again at the half-whispered question. "I don't know," he responded. "I came here expecting to help retake the keep from the Boltons but found my help was completely unnecessary. I suppose I will stay only long enough to see Sansa settled before heading back to Castle Black. There were others who did not approve of my coming here in the first place. I broke my vows in order to leave the wall."

Amarah's forehead scrunched into little, worried lines as she tried to recall the vows of the night's watch. "I suppose they didn't approve of your involving yourself in something like this."

"No," Jon confirmed her suspicion with a sad shake of his head. "The men you see with me here are the only ones who did not condemn my actions. It will take some time to win back the rest of their trust."

"I see," Amarah murmured. She meant to say something more, but was distracted by the sound of someone coming towards them. She looked over expecting to find Jaime but found Sansa standing there instead, wrapped tightly in her fur cloak with her face flushed and eyes bright. She wasn't looking at Amarah, though. Her blue eyes were fixed on the man that sat on the other side of the broad table.

"Sansa," Jon spoke her name quietly by way of greeting.

Sansa's eyes flickered then between the stones at her feet and the familiar face looking at her silently. Amarah wondered then if she meant to say anything at all until she walked around to Jon's side of the table and stood there expectantly. Slightly confused, Jon rose to join her and was shocked to find her throwing herself into his arms before hugging him tightly to her.

Amarah could see Jon's eyes round in shock before the reality of Sansa's relief at his presence began to sink in. Wrapping his arms around her tightly in return, he soothed her with a quiet voice. "It's all right, Sansa."

That was where Jaime found the three of them moments later as he strode into the hall, now divested of his golden armor. "Ah," he sighed with a smirk. "I'm relieved to have arrived in time for the touching family reunion."

Amarah shot him a look that warned him to hold his tongue, but he simply turned his provoking glance in her direction before plopping down beside her. Sansa had pulled away from Jon by now, but she stayed close to his side as she quietly seated herself beside him. Amarah feared momentarily that they would return to the awkward silence from before, but the sound of Jon's voice put those worries to rest.

"Tell me, Lannister," Jon looked in Jaime's direction, suspicion coloring is tone. "Where do your loyalties lie in this war? With your brother disappeared, your sister imprisoned, and your father dead, who is left for you to follow? I find it very difficult to believe you are left with so little options that you have decided to take up the Stark cause in this struggle for power."

Amarah expected to see a hint of anger spark through the mocking expression in Jaime's eyes, but he wore nothing but a look of slight boredom at Jon's questions. "I follow no one but myself, Lord Commander. My family's fortunes are not what they were merely a year ago. My sister sits in the capital awaiting a trial for her crimes, so I think she is too preoccupied at the moment trying to save her own skin than to find offense with my actions. And as you said yourself, neither my father nor brother are in any position to oppose me either. As for the king, well, I would say my nephew sits safely enough on the throne without any threat to steal it away. Lady Sansa might regain control of the North, but she has no desire to take the iron throne for herself. My nephew is safe enough on that ugly iron chair without my actions threatening him in any way."

"Do you pretend not to care that your sister might be executed for the crimes she is accused of?" Jon asked, unconvinced of Jaime's uncaring attitude regarding the rest of his family.

Jaime's expression did harden then, with no hint of humor to soften the look of implacable resentment. "Cercei's actions have brought her to this, and I am finished trying to undo all her wrongs."

The rush of relief that Amarah felt at Jaime's words was swiftly followed by a sensation of guilt. She could not deny that his ability to finally see Cersei as she truly was brought her some small amount of pleasure, but she still found it difficult to find joy in something that brought Jaime pain. He didn't look at her though, as the conflicting emotions warred in her heart. He kept his hard gaze trained on Jon, waiting for his response to his answer about Cersei.

Instead of replying, Jon turned then to Amarah. "What do you plan to do with this man once Sansa is established here? You cannot mean for him to stay at Winterfell."

Amarah felt all three pairs of eyes fasten on her in curiosity at her response. She was beginning to regret her wish for Jon to ask the questions he needed answered. She shot Jaime a quick look then to find him staring at her with barely concealed interest. Holding his gaze for a moment, she turned back to Jon with her back straight and shoulders set in a determined stance.

"Should the gods allow it, I mean to marry him if we both come out of this war alive."

Jon looked surprised that she would admit to such a thing aloud. "And you Ser Jaime?" he asked, turning his attention back to the man at her side. Amarah realized then that she had never discussed such plans with Jaime, always leaving the topic unexplored for an unnamed time in the future. Gods, she thought with bitter realization, he might have no wish to marry me at all.

Steeling herself for disappointment, she kept her eyes on Jon's face, awaiting Jaime's response. "Once Lady Sansa is established here," his voice rumbled pleasantly by her ear, "I mean to return to the capital and resign my post as Lord Commander. As the king is a close relation, I anticipate little trouble in giving up the post. After that, I mean to take Amarah as my wife and settle at Casterly Rock. There, is that enough to set your worries at ease?"

"Not entirely," Jon answered, "but I'm in no position to deny her marriage to you if that is what she wishes."

Amarah did look at Jaime then, allowing her shields to slip just far enough to allow all those seated around her a glimpse of the affection she felt for him. "It's what I wish," she answered Jon, though she kept her gaze on the man beside her.

The silent look Jaime gave in response promised that this was a topic they would pursue further when free from prying eyes, and Amarah nodded her head in a barely perceptible nod of agreement. Now, however was not the time to continue with that particular topic of conversation.

"Sansa," she spoke, changing the course of topic once again. "Tomorrow we must speak about inviting some of the lords from the surrounding keeps here to see that a true Stark once again sits in Winterfell. Of course, the place will need to be repaired before that can happen. If you are to be considered a leader of the North, you must have a keep worthy of that position."

"It might take some time," Sansa murmured, taking in the room that sat in shambles around them.

Amarah nodded her head in agreement. "It will take some time, yes, but you are equal to the challenge. You will have to choose from among the men whom to name master at arms. Filling the position soon would work to your best advantage, if you are to return things here to the way they should be."

"Do you have anyone in mind?" Jon asked his sister, glancing around them as if searching for a potential candidate.

Sansa seemed to mull over the question with serious thought before her eyes lit with inspiration. Instead of addressing the three with her at the table, however, she stood and approached the hulking brute who had been standing silently to the side since entering the room. His face revealed his surprise at being so singled out, but other than that, he gave no reaction to her presence in front of him.

Undeterred, Sansa tilted her head up at him in a show of defiance. "Very well," she spoke loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. "I choose Sandor Clegane."

Amarah had expected a hint of surprise on Sandor's part, at least a smile of thanks at the honor Sansa showed him by singling him out. Instead, he rewarded the little lady of the keep with the fiercest scowl he could muster before stomping out of the room without a single word.

Perversely, Sansa seemed more encouraged than hurt by his less than flattering response to her proposal. With a slight bounce in her step, she returned to her previous position at Jon's side and rewarded all those at the table with a bright smile. "I would like something to eat if it isn't too much trouble," she requested with the beaming grin still in place and pulled the bowl of potatoes in her direction. "I'm famished."

Feeling at a rare loss for words, Amarah could only soundlessly pass the roasted meat toward her cheerful cousin with a curious look. Perhaps Sansa would adapt to this position of leadership more easily than she had originally thought. Anyone capable of managing a man like Sandor Clegane was more than able to band together the broken North under one united banner, and it looked as if Sansa Stark was the leader the north had needed all along.

What Amarah couldn't have guessed in that moment was that no one was more surprised by this discovery than Sansa herself.

Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for a Jaime/Amarah discussion that builds on that confession at dinner and Sandor's answer to Sansa's surprising offer. All comments, follows, and favorites always welcome.