Beads of seawater dripped on Effie's naked body as she bobbed on the surface of the sea. Beyond the glinting sapphire waters of Tarth's beach, she saw her parents waving at her from the shore. Beside her, the water gurgled and she saw Haymitch coming up the surface.

"Princess," he whispered huskily and grabbed her waist. She leaned closer and lightly bit on his earlobe.

"You are such a beast, my lord. Perhaps later, my parents are watching,"

She turned to the shore, conscious about her parents watching her.

But everything was hued an angry red.

And dagger blades sprouted from her parents' stomach. She looked back at her betrothed but instead, it was the purple haired boy who held her.

"I could have taken you for my own if they hadn't stopped me. Maybe killing you would have more satisfaction than-"

Euphemia screamed.

"Effie, sweetling."

Effie blinked rapidly. Her surroundings were dim. The gruesome images still swirled in her vision but it slowly disappeared. She found herself back in her chambers in Winterfell. She whipped her head to the right and saw her father's worn face. He seemed to have age ten years forward- more silver in his hair than usual.

"Where is mother?" she croaked. Effie's throat felt dry and sore.

"She has been resting back in her chambers. I could scarce believe you slept through all that arguing," her father began joke weakly. "Your lady mother had been adamant on staying since she was the mother. Of course, her yawn-"

Effie tackled her father and began to sob hard. Jaime didn't say anything but simply rubbed her back with his golden hand. Although her parents were protective, they weren't one to tell her everything was going to be fine. They knew she was not fine and it will be long until she would be. They have only ever comforted by being there.

"I am going to send someone to fetch your lady mother," Jaime said when his daughter was reduced to sniffles.

When her lady mother arrived, she thought she had released all her tears. But seeing her mother's shiny, expressive blue eyes made her break down once more. She was muttering about how sorry she was about Aron. Both her parents held her tight.

For several days, Effie still had a fever and Jaime and Brienne scarcely left her room. Effie has had constant nightmares ever since she woke. So her parents stayed with her and held her when she needed assurance that it was all just a dream. Servants came in and gave them food. They only left if they needed to use the privy or if their men truly needed them. Lady Sansa visited once, but it was a brief visit. Her son needed her, she said. Lord Jon was a more frequent visitor, telling her news of Haymitch. The young Stark was asleep longer than she was. Nonstop riding and fighting off two enemies at once took a toll on the young Northern lord. Sometimes, they'd ask if the bastard, Coriolanus was found yet. The man had somehow escaped them. But Jon only shook his head in dismay.

Several days after she awoke, Lord Jon came in with a smile.

"He's awake," he announced.

Euphemia whipped her head to her parents.

"Mother, Father, may I go see him," Effie spoke, more clearly than she did before. She was almost better. She could actually sit up now without her head spinning too much.

"Not yet, sweetling. You are still not better," her mother chided.

"But I am," Effie protested. "I want to see my beloved."

Jaime rolled his eyes. "Gods, I forgot how fussy you become when you're sick. Effie, my sweet, not now okay?"

"But-"

"Listen to your father, Euphemia."

The girl groaned and flopped to her bed.

"My son is going to have a tough time with this one," Jon remarked which earned him a glare from Jaime. Jon ignored him and focused on Euphemia instead. "Your parents are right though. Haymitch is still unwell and so are you. But I promise you, you will see him soon enough."

The little Lannister nodded at that and Jon excused himself.

When the older Stark left, there came a long suffering silence.

"What is this about breaking off the marriage?" Brienne finally spoke. She asked this almost detachedly, but Effie had felt that her parents have known beforehand and were waiting to bring the subject up.

"Lord Haymitch and I did not get along at first. Lannister and Stark blood have been enemies for years and it seemed that there was no other way to heal," Euphemia explained and Jaime seemed to avert his gaze. She knew guilt welled up inside him. He was thinking of when he had pushed Bran Stark out the window, of Joffrey, that monster that have come out of his seed, and the overall grief he and his family did to the Starks. But only he and Tyrion were left from that family, and they sought to change the Lannisters.

"But there is hope, Father. Against the odds, we grew to love. There is hope that one day these two Houses will unite and bring forth glorious descendants that will be written down in history. I am surer now more than ever that I love Haymitch. And Haymitch loves me. And together, we shall unite two great Houses and prove that anything is possible."

Her father smiled at her proudly.

That night, Effie woke up from a nightmare. This time, however, she did not scream. She blinked away the nightmares on her own. After some time, Effie could not get back to sleep no matter how much she tossed and turned. Her mother lay beside her, while her father slept on a plush chair next to her bed, his forehead resting forward on the bed. Usually, she would have her parents rub her back and pet her hair until she slept, but she didn't want to bother them. Instead, she got up and crept away from her room.

She had stayed in Winterfell long enough to know its twists and turns. The halls weren't well lit but she still knew. She made her way to her favorite spot- the wide window that oversaw the most beautiful sceneries of Winterfell- and approached it with tentative steps.

"Lady Lannister."

She jumped and turned around. Behind her was an almost incomprehensible figure.

"Did I startle you, my lady?"

It took her a while to make out the figure in the dark.

"Lord Stark."

She did a clumsy curtsy- too tired to even care.

"You should be back in your chambers, my lord. You just woke up."

Effie finally made out what he looked in the light. Haymitch was huddled in blankets, his dark hair disheveled even more than usual, his once steel eyes gray as stone, though somehow, there was silver in it, despite the heavy shadows under his eyes.

"I have stayed in my bed too long. I am certain you would agree. Am I correct, my lady?"

He was met with nothing but her blush, and the young Lord Stark chuckled at that. He walked with heavy footfalls toward the window and sat on the sill.

"Come, my lady," Lord Haymitch invited, patting the space beside him.

"Quite a gentleman," Lady Euphemia deadpanned but the red on her face grew fiercer. She walked to him and took the place across him.

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity until Haymitch cleared his throat.

"I apologize if-"

"No need, Haymitch," The use of his first name left a strange taste in Effie's mouth. It was a good kind of strange. "It was foolish of me to have ridden off on my own, knowing fully well of the dangers lurking outside the walls of Winterfell. What is done is done and I am glad that you are alive."

"Your-"

"Aron died a brave death. I do not care at the moment of what had happened. I am too tired to even feel the guilt. Perhaps we can talk of this later, but I am content now."

"What does my lady want as some atonement for my sins?" Haymitch tried to sound casual but she knew there was apology beneath it, and a hint of innuendo. The way he slightly tilts his head downwards is a telltale sign, and the mischievous glint in his eyes told the latter bit.

"Just the fact that you are alive is atonement enough."

The young lord merely grunted in reply. They grew quiet once more. Sleep began to catch up with Effie and she began to close her eyes. She could hear shuffling in front of her. Warmth and shadows grew closer until she could feel his fevered breath close to her face.

She didn't protest when his lips pressed on hers. She only peered to see if it as truly him and not some intruder coming to take her away. It wasn't even a heated kiss. Their lips were just still, only the warmth of comfort being exchange between them. When Haymitch finally broke, they both leaned back against the window pane- his sides against Effie, who complained about how heavy he was. He plainly laughed at her.

"Just humor me this once, my sweet. After all, I saved your arse."

Effie huffed, but her frown turned into small smile.

"Perhaps, my lord should get sick often," she mused. "You become a puppy."

"You are cruel, my princess. You would starve me and make me ill for your evil purposes," he leaned heavier on her earning him a light slap.

"Get off me, Haymitch," Effie protested but she began laughing. Haymitch did as asked but Effie kept laughing. He didn't mind at all. He decided he loved the way her skin flushed, emphasizing each and every freckle lit under the moonlight. Suddenly, he found himself pulling her over him. Effie squealed and stared at him with her bright sapphire eyes. He was completely stunned by her eyes. Gods be damned. I have never seen eyes more beautiful.

"We are not doing this on the window sill," she chided as if he was a disobedient son. "You are not even well."

Haymitch looked at her confused. She seemed nonchalant with this sort of thing. It took a little while for Effie to understand his bafflement.

"I-I am not a maiden," she whispered shyly. "I-I hope that is fine with you."

Haymitch curled a possessive hand on her waist.

"I am yours and you are mine," he growled before kissing her hard. She responded eagerly. "That's all that matters now," he spoke again before going for another hard kiss, and his hands wandering everywhere. Effie met his passion with just as much ferocity- the lion and the wolf in a different sort of showdown, until she gently pushed him off.

"Lord husband, we are not consummating our marriage before our marriage."

Something told the young Stark she would gladly do so, but he was still recovering. So they pulled themselves up and this time, she leaned against him- both staying quiet for a long period, until Effie spoke.

"I still have nightmares about it," she suddenly whispered.

"I do, too. And other things…" he trailed off.

"Was it your beloved? The one killed by a Lannister?" she spoke carefully, as if treading on a verbal broken glass.

Haymitch thought he'd run away, close off, like he always does, but this time, he found himself clutching her tighter and his tale of a lost love pouring out from his mouth.

The young wolf was ten at the time and he was wandering around in a wildling village on his way to the Wall. His father had gone to some business in it so he was left by himself to do what he wants. Lord Jon never worried about him because whenever he was in the village, he was with his friend, Chaff. Chaff was ten-and-six, of average build but his body was built like an ox. Chaff was a freed Summer Islander slave who moved to the North for a change of scenery from the South. Chaff often got him into mischief and they always ended up running away from someone.

That day was no different.

He and his friend had run from a lady who they threw small pebbles at. Her husband helped in chasing and they both split off. After a long time, Haymitch turned to see that he had lost the husband. He snickered.

But his victory was short. Just as he was about to turn ahead to his path before him, he felt as if he crashed into the Wall- a wailing Wall.

"Do you have any idea how much these cost me!?" she turned to see a dark-haired, olive-skinned girl glare at him, around her, food splattered.

"I promise to pay you back," he barked.

They had exchanged many words that day. At first harsh and cruel, but by the end of the day, Haymitch and Lily became friends. And that was the start.

It was a prominent Wildling village so Lord Jon usually stayed long in that village on their way to the Wall. Haymitch was only ten when they first met but his father made trips to the Wall twice a year. So they visited the village four times a year.

Chaff had japed about being envious over Haymitch's new friend.

"But I'm your lover, boy," Chaff had slurred. His friend was a heavy drinker and when he was drunk, he often makes the strangest, ridiculous jests. Only the gods know why his father trusted this drunkard with a noble green boy like him. Haymitch knew Chaff had been eyeing the new arrival, Seeder, who was also from the Summer Isles. His pursue for Seeder was the only reason why he spent so much time with Lily.

"Though I suppose you need friends your age," he pointed out. "A drunk seventeen-year-old is hardly a healthy companion to a green boy of eleven,"

Chaff took another swig of his choice of poison that hour and wiped his mouth.

"Have you fucked her yet?" he spat.

To both their surprise, Haymitch punched Chaff in the face. Chaff stared at him in shock and for the first time, Haymitch was afraid the drunkard would hurt him bad, even kill him.

Then he noticed the man's shoulders shake. Next came the bark of laughter. He should have felt relieved that the ex-slave found him amusing. But all he thought of was the realization that he had fallen for Lily.

In his third visit that same year, he had told her how he felt.

He couldn't describe how his heart had leapt when she told him she loved him too.

In his first visit when he was three-and-ten, something in their relationship had changed. Suddenly their kisses turned to grabbing at their clothing and ripping it off their bodies. When their flesh was bare did Lily pull away.

"I-I'm a whore."

Lily's hadn't shed a tear. But he couldn't forget how her gray eyes glistened with held back tears as she recounted her story. She was a personal whore since she was nine. One of the prominent that resided in the Village had bought her from a slave trader. Although the queen had waged a war against slavery, she still had to extend her iron fist in the North, where her grasp isn't as firm. His parents have been trying to be the queen's iron fist, but this new group of slave traders was elusive and there wasn't much information on them.

Haymitch had grabbed his breeches, but Lily held his hand to stop it.

"It's fine," he had said, so softly and with gentleness he never knew he had. "If you don't-"

"I want to," she had whispered in his ear. And like a spell, he dropped his breeches in a trance and came at her with such passion.

It had been a blissful night.

That night, Lily felt like he could be trusted. So she had whispered to him something she remembered about a captain of the slave traders. They usually captured victims with a sack over their heads. It was a breathable sack but you couldn't see anything. Somehow, they were careless with her sack and saw the yellow eagle on crimson background on a white doublet. Another man had the same sigil but there was a white rose on his breast.

At the time, he didn't think much of what she said-only drunk on her. She even thanked those men because if it weren't for them, she wouldn't have met him. They were happy. But that happiness only lasted a while. The descriptions of the men only resurfaced and seared into his memory when Lily hadn't come see him when she was supposed to. He thought of how she had bruises all over her, believing she was clumsy, but he should have known that her master had abused her.

All he got that day was his lover's dead body, a Lannister cadaver with an axe lodged at his head, a cut stomach and blood that was his, Lily's and the Lannister's.

The same man that had taken Lily before will send Euphemia to the same fate. It was what kept him going- hunger and exhaustion and all. Haymitch felt better telling her all that but Euphemia felt her heart break for him. His tale left her speechless.

"I do not relish blood on my hands, but know that I will do what I will to protect the ones I love."

She kissed him at that admission.

"Indeed," Effie agreed. "This is a brutal world, but we will try to get as little blood as we can."

"Agreed," he hummed.

Then, they leaned against each other without a word, until they fell asleep, and for the first time, without bad dreams plaguing them.

Author's Note: I cri. ;-; I've had ups and downs with this fic. And to those who stuck through it, I'm grateful that you loved it even though I'm not very good with the world of Westeros. XD Anyway, please leave a review. I'd really appreciate it. 3 3 I love you guys. ;u;

Ahfahfeotqn Just a bit of an epilogue. I'll post it like a week after because well, it's kinda short lol