Tyrion groaned as he finally walked into Jamie's cel, climbing onto the narrow bed as the servant behind him set a tray on Jamie's lap before leaving. The guard nodded to Tyrion, murmuring "My lord," and pushed the door closed with a loud clang.

"I hate those stairs," Tyrion sighed. He rubbed his aching thighs briskly.

"Now that you've come down them, you'll have to go back up," Jamie smiled slightly.

"Don't remind me." Tyrion groaned again.

"So what brings you? And with food, no less." He picked up the roll with his left hand, his right sitting still beside him, the skin of the amputated wrist pale. It had healed well, Tyrion noted. The golden hand had of course been confiscated, but Tyrion had managed to have it removed from Lord Corbray's possession, and it was safely hidden.

Tyrion looked at his brother. "Can I not wish to see my brother, my only living sibling?" He regretted the words the instant they were out. Although Jamie had known that Cercei would die, he was taking her death badly. He'd lost she and Tommen and he hadn't even been there, he'd been a prisoner himself. All they knew of Myrcella was that she was safely in Dorne, under the watchful eye of the Prince. He'd heard rumors that she'd been kidnapped, and some of Lord Tarly's men swore they'd seen her in the Reach. But the General assured them that she was with the Princes Doran and Trystane, and that they all were safe.

Jamie only smiled sadly. "I'm always happy to see you, you know that. But given the stairs and the pain they cause you, I assume there's a greater purpose."

Tyrion sighed and sat quietly, giving himself a chance to rest and Jamie a chance to eat. When he was done, Tyrion spoke.

"I wanted to see you, and make sure you were well." Although Jamie had been in the palace for weeks now, he'd been forbidden from seeing him. Even now, he was pushing the King's graces by being here.

"I'm as well as I can be," Jamie shrugged. "Have you seen Brienne?"

Tyrion shook his head. "Her father has asked she be released and returned to him. I believe the King is inclined to agree, as there are no charges against her and if what she said is true, she was kidnapped herself."

"It is."

"I need you to tell me," Tyrion said slowly. He'd heard the story second hand from Mace Tyrell, and bits and pieces from Pod. He needed to hear it from Jamie. He needed to be sure.

He sat silently as Jamie told him about the Brotherhood Without Banners, and Beric Dondarrien and the Red Priest Thoros, and Caitlyn Stark and Brienne and Pod. "Honestly, had the army not come our way I don't know that we would have survived," Jamie admitted. "Brienne is a better swordfighter than most, and I'm passable with my left hand. We'd gotten away from them a few times, but they always tracked us down. When we heard the army coming, they scattered and Pod, Brienne, and I allowed ourselves to be captured. It was our only salvation."

Tyrion sat silently, mulling his brother's words. "And you're sure it was Caitlyn Stark?"

"I saw her with my own eyes," Jamie said. "Her hair's gone gray, and she looks old as a crone. But it's her."

"Did you actually see this priest, Thoros, bring back the dead?" he asked curiously.

Jamie shook his head. "No," he admitted. "But one thing Caitlyn Stark has never been is a liar. And several of the men said they'd seen it. Ask Brienne, she knows."

Tyrion nodded slowly. "I will."

They sat silently for long moments, each lost in his thoughts. "So," Jamie said eventually. "Have you decided if you'll take a new bride? Casterly Rock needs a lady," he smiled slightly.

Tyrion smiled. "Ah, you haven't heard. Sansa and I are still married."

"Oh?" Jamie looked surprised. "I'd heard the King was planning to set your marriage aside. The guards have said that he's obviously in love with Sansa."

"He is," Tyrion sighed. "But she has chosen to remain Lady Lannister." Jamie was silent. "Yes, I know," Tyrion smiled. "It was a surprise to me, too."

"It doesn't surprise me," Jamie grunted gruffly. "Our sweet little Sansa is no fool. Oh, she was young and silly, as most girls her age are. But she's also a Stark, and the only one who's managed to stay alive."

"Not the only," Tyrion said. "Her youngest brother, Ricken, the baby. He's also alive. The other boy, Bran, may be as well."

Jamie's brow rose. "That's the boy that fell from the tower? He lived?"

Tyrion nodded. "Yes, apparently. He's gone farther north, Lord Manderly hopes to send some men to look for him."

Jamie nodded slowly, looking down at his empty tray.

Sighing, Tyrion pushed himself from the bed. "Well, I'd best work on getting up the stairs," he said, his voice resigned. He'd end the day in massive amounts of pain, but it couldn't be helped. "I'll try to check on you as often as I can."

Jamie nodded. "Has the King made any decisions regarding my life?" he asked.

"Not yet," Tyrion assured him. "I'm still trying to convince him to allow you to live in exchange for your aid. It helps that others have also said that you and Cercei had fought, and that you'd left. And, that you were willing to talk when you were captured. And so far, everything you'd told them is true. I'm pushing for exile. I know it's not ideal, but at least you'd be alive."

Jamie nodded sadly. His heart still ached from the loss of Jeoffrey, and now Tommen and Cercei. He'd never wanted to see her dead. And his children… he hadn't dared hope that he'd be allowed to return home to Casterly Rock, but if Bran Stark really were alive exile might be the better option. He sighed heavily, his mind filled with regrets. His father, sister, and children, all gone. All he had left was his brother.

"Tyrion," he called as the guard opened the door. "You're a good man. The best of us. I wish you much happiness, little brother."

Tyrion looked at his brother sadly. "Thank you," he said softly. He wanted to say more, to reassure or console him somehow but instead made himself turn and leave, keeping himself from wincing when he heard the door clang shut with an effort. He knew what it felt like to be there, waiting for someone else to decide your fate. He would do everything in his power to keep him alive, including arranging a rescue. He didn't know how, but he couldn't just let him die.

He had to wonder if Caitlyn Stark really were alive. Sansa would be thrilled. But how would Lady Caitlyn feel to see her daughter married to him, a Lannister, and the Lady of Casterly Rock? If everything Jamie had said was true, he couldn't image that she hadn't changed drastically. He'd have to arrange a search for her. She'd want to know that Ricken and Sansa were alive and well, even if she weren't enthused about her daughter's husband, given Jamie's assertion that she wanted to see everyone named Frey and Lannnister dead. He'd direct her to White Harbor, and send a note to Lord Manderly with his son.

Sansa didn't see the King for almost a week, although she knew that Tyrion saw him every day. She occupied herself with overseeing the domestic running of the castle – which the steward grumbled about, Cercei had never taken such an interest – and social obligations. "The kingdom is drowning in debt, and completely without funds," Tyrion told her. "But the Lannisters are not. The best way to signal that this war is truly over is to start entertaining."

And so Sansa was making plans to have a few ladies join her for the midday meal, and perhaps a small dinner party. "I need to find out if Lord Tyrion plans to have the King attend," she told Alinor one afternoon as they returned from the castle storage rooms, where she'd been looking for a few items to decorate their rooms. "And Queen Daenerys, she's still here so it would be horribly rude to ignore her."

"Well, we mustn't be rude," a light voice behind her said. Sansa turned and found the object of her discussion standing before her. She immediately dropped to a curtsey.

"Your Majesty," she said politely. "I didn't realize you were there."

"Please rise," Dany said with a small smile. She took a moment to appraise the young woman before her. The last time she'd seen her she'd been wrapped in armor and covered in travel dust. Dany realized that she was truly beautiful, and appeared poised and confident. "You're Tyrion's Sansa."

Sansa blushed a bit at the description, although she found that she liked it. "Yes, Your Majesty," she smiled.

The girl was infatuated with her husband. Dany realized the thought pleased her. Tyrion was a good man, and he deserved a woman who loved him. And this highborn beauty was a prize any man would value. "My nephew is very fond of you," she said.

Sansa's smile turned a bit sad. "I am fond of him as well, King Aegon is a good friend to me." I hope.

"A friend," Dany said musingly. "He wanted to make you his queen."

Sansa nodded, a bit uncomfortably. "Yes."

"And yet, you blush when I mention Tyrion's name."

Sure enough, Sansa's cheeks reddened. "Lord Tyrion is my husband," she said primly, unsure of how to respond. But the Queen seemed satisfied with the answer.

"Tell me, what is it that you're debating inviting me to?"

"Tyrion has asked me to host a few social events," she explained. "To have a few ladies for lunch, and perhaps a small dinner party."

"Oh," the Queen said with a small frown. "I would think that there are other obligations to attend to."

"There are," Sansa assured her. "And His Majesty and his Hand will attend to them. But there is no better way to assure everyone that the war is over than to begin entertaining."

"Hmmmm." Her tone was disapproving. "I wish the King were more interested in feeding his people, not entertaining them."

Sansa nodded. She'd been disturbed to see the amount of poor and homeless within the city's walls. "When I was a child growing up at Winterfell, my mother ensured that everyone had food and warm clothes," she said softly. "She said it was our duty to provide for them, until they could provide for themselves."

The Queen smiled sadly. "I'm sure my nephew has his reasons," she sighed. "But….perhaps you could speak with him about it."

"I haven't seen the King in days," Sansa said politely. She was fairly certain that it was intentional, given the conversation that Tyrion had told her they'd had about her, and that their marriage was 'good and well consummated.' She felt her cheeks warm and smothered a giggle. It wasn't a lie. They'd been consummating it regularly since they'd been back together.

"Oh, give it time," Dany said lightly, wondering what had caused the lady's cheeks to redden again. "I'm sure that will change. Do you go into the city often?"

Sansa shook her head. "Tyrion prefers that I don't, until everything has settled down a bit." And Sansa remembered all too well the mob they'd encountered the day Myrcella had sailed for Dorne. If she did go, she was heavily guarded.

"I would like to go," the queen said wistfully. "But I've been told the same. Perhaps they'd allow us to go together?"

Sansa smiled. "Perhaps."

Dany smiled and hooked her arm through Sansa's, walking back towards the main keep. "I think we'll be friends," she said.

Only hours later, Sansa was summoned to speak with the King. Tyrion was there when she arrived, as well as Lord Tyrell, Lord Tarly, Lord Umber – who grinned broadly at her, winking – and Lord Connington.

"I know the boy," Tyrion was saying. "He's not the type to panic. If he's this distressed, something is very wrong."

"I have to agree with Lord Lannister," Lord Umber said. "I've known the boy his entire life. He's steady as they come, just like his father was. If he says it's something, then it is."

"And we also heard from them about two years ago, right before the war started in full," Tyrion added. "They sent a man all the way here to Kings Landing to ask for assistance."

"What did the queen do?" Lord Connington asked.

"I was acting Hand at the time. He said they needed men and supplies, so I gave him some of each. I spoke with the man in private, and he expressed grave concerns about the white walkers and the fact that they'd returned. My father returned not long after that and assumed his position as Hand, and so I do not know if they've requested any aid since then. But this," Tyrion picked up a piece of paper and waved it slightly, "is disturbing. If any part of this is even remotely true, we must act. It's worth investigating, at the least."

The King sat silently, lost in thought. "Lady Lannister," he said coldly, not looking up from the map he was studying. "Tell me about your brother, Jon Snow."

Sansa was surprised. "I'm not sure what you mean, Your Majesty?"

"His character," the King said, looking up at her. His purple eyes, once so kind, were like frozen amethysts. "What type of man is he?"

Sansa paused, thinking. It had been years since she'd seen Jon, and she didn't know how he had changed. "He was always very calm, very stoic." She hesitated. "My mother disliked him, because he was my father's natural son, and only a bit older than her firstborn, Robb. She always resented the fact that he was at Winterfell, and that my father insisted that he be raised with us. He learned to live in the face of that disapproval, and to do whatever he had to do without complaint or grumbling. He was always the most responsible of us."

"Is he the type to panic?" Lord Tarly asked roughly. "Overreact?"

"No," Sansa said instantly. "No, he's more likely to try to handle everything on his own first, and then, only when it can no longer be helped, seek assistance."

"Fine. Arrange to send some men to investigate," the King said to Tyrion, then turned again to Sansa. "I need you to do something for me."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Befriend my aunt. Then convince her to give up this ridiculous plan." He snapped each word out like it was painful. Sansa didn't know if his anger was towards her, or Queen Daenerys. Most likely both.

"I will do my best," she assured him. He nodded, obviously done with her. "Your Majesty?" she said softly.

He looked up, irritated.

"Only this morning, the Queen and I were discussing the state of the residents of the city," she said. "Could we offer some type of assistance? Food, or blankets? Medical care, perhaps?"

"There is no money for that," he ground out. "As I'm sure your husband has told you." She ignored his emphasis on the word, looking instead mutely to Tyrion.

He raised a brow, opened his mouth to speak and then sighed, fighting a smile. If all the girl had to do was look at him and he'd give her anything, she would soon be spoiled rotten. The thought pleased him. "Fine," he said. "I'll pay for it." Sansa smiled brightly.

"Perhaps I can ask the Queen to assist me," she said. "As she is more familiar with humanitarian efforts than I am. And it would help her to see the residents of King's Landing as people, people who need her help. I'm sure that would make it much more difficult for her to contemplate raining dragonfire down on them."

"That's a good idea," Lord Umber said with a broad grin.

Lord Connington nodded. "Yes, it is. A very good idea."

"And with my lord husband's permission, of course," she gestured politely to Tyrion, "we will tell everyone that it all came from you. That should help to settle some of the unrest in the city." And hopefully once the people were fed, happy and devoted to the King, she and the Queen could go into the city without an entire squadron of soldiers.

The King didn't want to admit that it was a good idea, but Sansa could see in his eyes that he was pleased. He didn't say anything, just waved her away. She curtseyed to the room in general. "My lords," she said by way of farewell, then turned and left.

Sansa needed to find out from Tyrion exactly how much money he could afford to commit before she began her planning. It was time for the evening meal before he appeared, limping badly.

He took her hands and smiled as she leaned to kiss him. "You, my love, are brilliant," he said.

Sansa blushed. "It was just a thought I'd had, after speaking with the Queen this morning."

"Your thought might be our saving grace," he said, sitting at the table with a sigh. "The people are restless, mumbling and complaining, thinking they've traded one selfish ruler for another."

"Well before I can start planning, I do need to talk to you," she said uncertainly. "I need a budget."

Tyrion groaned a bit, reaching for his wine. "I really won't know until I get to Casterly Rock and review the accounts," he said. "The Second Sons are becoming increasingly belligerent in their demands for payment, I've got to get them taken care of. And the Iron Bank is willing to negotiate the thrones debt but only if a sizable payment is made up front. Also, the King and I agree that Ser Lothor should be gifted a small amount of land for all of his help." Sansa gasped, and smiled.

"I wanted to suggest that, but I only could offer lands in the North, and I know he doesn't want to go there," she said happily.

Tyrion nodded. "I'm not mistaken, Springwood Hall is currently in need of a lord. But I'll have to check when I arrive."

She nodded. "When will we leave?"

Tyrion hesitated, putting down his fork. "Love, I'm going to go alone."

She stared at him blankly.

"I need you to befriend Dany," he said in a rush. "She's never had a friend her age, not an equal. I believe you can change her mind." He reached for her hand, holding it tightly. "John Connington isn't planning to stay on as Hand," he said quietly. "He's asked me to be prepared to step in. But he's planning to leave within a few months, and so I have to go quickly and return. I need you to be here. Host a few ladies for lunch. Have tea. Feed the poor, clothe them, build shelters. Spend Lannister coin, it will be good for the economy, and we can afford it. And tell everyone that the King sent you."

Sansa sighed and nodded, trying not to pout that he was leaving her behind. "Can we? Afford it? The Second Sons made you promise them a fortune."

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes, they did, and the Iron Bank is almost as bad. But Lord Tywin was frugal. I won't know for certain until I get home but I'm fairly confident we can. And now that the war is over I should be able to get the mines back at full production, which will solve the problem, if there is one. I also need to ensure that my lands and lords are well."

She nodded again, wondering why she felt so panicked at the thought of him leaving. "When will you leave?"

"In a few days," he said gently. "The King has spared Jamie's life, but exiled him. He's asked to go see if Prince Doran will allow him to take Myrcella with him to the Free Cities. He'll ride home with me, then take the Ocean Road south to Highgarden, and continue on into Dorne." It would give him a chance to give Jamie some funds, to ensure that he and Myrcella would live comfortably, or at least give them a start.

"Tyrion," she said as a though came to her. "Who is their father? Cercei's children?"

He looked at her wryly. "Jaime." Her eyes widened. "Surely you heard the rumors?"

"Well, yes," she stuttered. "But I didn't think they were true."

He nodded grimly. "They are. It's why he wants Myrcella."

Sansa pondered that for a minute. Robb and Jon were both handsome men, but she couldn't imagine either of them touching her the way Tyrion did. Just the thought sent a slight shiver of revulsion through her. Tyrion chuckled. "Yes, I feel that way about it too."

Sansa was just realizing all of what he'd said before. "If you're Hand of the King, we won't be able to go to Winterfell," she said sadly.

"When I return from Casterly Rock, I doubt very much I'll be able to leave for a year, if not two," he said regretfully. "But perhaps when Lord Umber returns home, you can go with him."

She was shaking her head before he finished. "I'll wait until you can go with me, even if it takes a few years. Winterfell will still be there."

Tyrion just looked at her, wondering what he'd ever done to inspire such devotion. "What," she asked nervously, as he stared at her.

"I promise you Sansa," he said fervently. "I promise you, I will spend the rest of my life making you happy."

She wondered what had brought that on. "I know," she assured him, smiling. "You already do."

He and Jaime left a few days later. He'd instructed Ser Lothor not to let her out of his sight, and that he could pull from the palace guard for her protection as well, especially as she and Queen Daenerys began their work in the city.

Jaime took her hand as she said goodbye to him. Just looking at her brought to mind all of the regrets of that last few years, washing him in guilt and grief. He wanted badly to tell her that her mother hadn't died but Tyrion had asked him not to, not until they'd found her and ensured that she really were still alive.

"Please give Myrcella my love," she said. It seemed so long ago that they'd sat in the solar of Winterfell, working on their embroidery under the watchful eyes of their septa's.

"You're too good for our name," he said softly. He looked tired and worn, and it was still strange to see him out of the white worn by the Kingsguard.

"Then I suppose I'll have to bring some good to it," she said resolutely.

He smiled, a bit sadly. "If anyone can, little sister, you will." Impulsively, she hugged him.

"Take care of yourself," she whispered. "And take care of Lady Breinne." She still didn't know what to make of the muscular woman with the raw, ragged scar on her face.

Jaime chuckled. "She'll take care of me," he said. Releasing her, he climbed up onto his horse. "Produce a few golden haired heir's for us, Lady Lannister. And please keep an eye on my little brother."

Her eyes cut to Tyrion, who was mounting his own horse. "Oh him," she said airily. She shrugged. "He's small and easily managed." Jamie grinned broadly, and Tyrion's laughter rang through the courtyard as she walked over to his horse. She'd spent last night clinging to him, touching him in all the ways she'd learned he liked, delighting in every moan and whisper of her name.

He held out a hand and she took it tightly. "Only a month," he said softly. She nodded.

"Only a month. And I have plenty of work to do." She and the Queen had already begun planning.

"Sansa, please be careful," he said. "We're still searching for Qyburn, and Varys' little birds believe he's still in King's Landing. Whatever is keeping here him is tied to that monstrous laboratory he had down in the basement," he frowned. "I'm certain of it, and so is Varys. We don't know what he's looking for, but after seeing his experiments…..he's dangerous, love. Please be careful."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," she assured him with a grin. "There's no longer a bounty on my head, so why would anyone want me?"

"Because you're dear to the King," Tyrion said instantly. "You could be used as a bargaining tool to influence him or force his hand. Or because your name is Lannister, and I've been obvious in my affection for you, it could correctly be assumed that I'd pay a small fortune to get you back. Or simply because you're Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell, Warden of the North and East. You, my love, are a very powerful young woman."

Sansa stared at him mutely, shocked. None of that had occurred to her.

Tyrion just shook his head in frustration. "I have so much to do, I wish I didn't have to leave now," he said. "But I need to get this out of the way. Lothor will keep track of you. Wear your sword," he ordered. "Take care of yourself." He leaned down and she leaned up, raising on her toes, and their mouths met in a deep kiss. "Only a month," he sighed when they broke apart.

She nodded and stepped back, and they all rode out the gate. She stood there forlornly, watching them all ride away, until Alinor came and put an arm around her shoulders, and Ser Tomas and Ser Milton approached. She smiled sadly and let them lead her away.