Sarah sat quietly on her horse, her hands holding the reins and her eyes set firmly on the sight in front of her. She had Jaime's cloak covering her small frame and keeping her warm until they found the nearest inn. Jaime knew that he had lost a good two hours of travelling, but he did not complain.
He told his men to set up camp outside, knowing full well that there would not be enough room for them in the inn. He heard some of them complain about how Jaime had a bed to rest his head on for the night. He soon silenced them with a harsh glare. He didn't care for talk of him.
"Oh my," the woman who owned the inn spoke as soon as she saw Jaime enter with Sarah and Beren in tow. The woman was looking at Sarah, the sight of her not something which was a common occurrence. Her eyes finally travelled to Jaime and she felt her mouth gape open.
She'd seen the Kingslayer at a tourney before. She doubted she would ever forget his handsome face and gleaming hair.
She dipped into a curtsey, not daring to say anything until Jaime spoke first.
"How many rooms do you have available?" Jaime wondered from the woman.
The inn was filled with men, some of them wore House symbols, but some of them remained about their own business. Jaime doubted that there was room for him considering the inn was such a small place.
"None, Ser," the woman said. "We are out of rooms for the evening...unless..."
"I can soon resolve this problem." Jaime said to her, a smirk on his face before he turned to look at Beren, nodding once. The guard took the message and moved further into the room, holding out a bag of coins, dangling them on his index finger.
"Is there no one willing to give up their room for the Lady Sarah Baratheon?" he called out.
The name Baratheon instilled murmurs all around. Sarah held Jaime's cloak tighter around her then, her eyes looking down to the ground as the Kingslayer came to stand next to her, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
"Be thankful for your name," Jaime told her. "It's the one thing that can buy you anything."
"I have," one man spoke up, throwing the key to his room as Beren threw the coins.
"We'll require supper," Jaime told the innkeeper as he came to stand next to his wife. Jaime placed his hand on the small of Sarah's back, slowly urging her towards the stairs at the end of the room. "My men outside will be inside soon enough. Give them a casket of wine. I shall pay."
"What about the room?" the innkeeper dared to ask, his wife nudging him in the stomach to be silent.
Jaime turned to glare at him, knowing full well that the room had been paid for.
"Don't matter," the man murmured once his wife had whispered some obscenities into his ears.
"As I suspected," Jaime said. "Come on, little stag."
Beren handed Jaime the key and the Kingslayer informed him to bring Sarah's belongings to the inn, knowing full well that she would have to change into a new gown. She moved up the stairs with haste, Jaime's hand still on her back as he led her to the room at the end of the hallway.
"You should rest," Jaime told her. "I shall bring your dinner to you this evening. I doubt the company of drunkards entertains you."
"Thank you, Ser Jaime," Sarah said as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.
Sarah looked around, thankful that the room contained the simple necessities. She entered slowly, looking around as Jaime wrinkled his nose.
"It isn't much of a room," Jaime told her. "I suppose it will do for the evening. Although you'd do well to prepare for the darkness and dampness; Winterfell is nothing if not bleak."
"I'm used to the bleak," admitted Sarah, slowly moving to open the shutters and revealing some light into the room. "Dragonstone was no King's Landing."
"I've never visited," Jaime told her. "I have heard the stories though, and I do not doubt what you say of the place. It doesn't appeal much to me."
"You get used to it when you call it home," Sarah told him, moving over to the metal tub which stood in the corner. The water inside of it was tepid, but it looked clean. That was all that mattered to her at that moment in time. She could fell dried mud sticking to her skin and keeping her dirty.
"Thank goodness that I've never had to call it home," Jaime replied to her, slowly backing out the door and throwing her key to sit on her bed. "I shall be back with you trunk soon enough."
"Thank you," Sarah said to him again as he closed the door.
She wasted no time in stripping from the clothes which she wore and she climbed into the water, leaning back against the metal of the tub, her hair slowly becoming wet as she moved further into the depths of the water. She closed her eyes and slowly felt herself grow quiet and tired.
...
Jaime downed a goblet of wine as his men entered the inn and complained about the conditions on which they had set the tents up on. Jaime ignored them as Beren finally came with Sarah's trunk. He rested it on the table which Jaime was sat at, all alone in the corner.
It was the way he preferred it. There was no one to disturb him and no one to bother him. The noise in the inn was slowly beginning to grate on him. He was becoming annoyed easily.
"Do you want me to take it to the Lady?" Beren asked and Jaime shook his head.
"No, I shall take it to her," Jaime told him. "Tell the innkeeper to bring her supper to her room...and...send mine there. I do not know how much longer I can stand in the company of these drunks."
"Reminds you of being back in King's Landing, don't it?" Beren smirked. "All of the drinking and feasting and whoring."
"It reminds me of a certain someone in King's Landing, yes," Jaime nodded in agreement, downing the last of his wine. He left the goblet on the table and picked the trunk up into his hands. He held it against his stomach as he walked back up the steps and towards her room.
He knocked lightly, his fingers rapping against the wood as he received no answer from the little stag. He waited patiently for a moment, wondering if she was changing back into her small clothes. But still there came no answer to him.
Jaime decided to push the door open and he saw the little stag in the tub still. A moment of panic took over Jaime before he saw her chest ride and fall. He dropped her trunk on the floor, a loud thud created against the wood.
Sarah startled in the bath, her eyes opening wide as she heard the noise. Her lips frowned as she saw Jaime stood there, his arms outstretched as he did so.
"Did you knock?" Sarah wondered from him.
He rolled his eyes. "After the telling off you gave me yesterday, do you think that I dare do anything but knock?" Jaime wondered and she said nothing back to him.
"Could you please leave and give me time to get out of the tub?" Sarah asked him. "Unless there is something you urgently want?"
"Nothing," Jaime told her. "I have sent for our dinners to be brought up here though."
"Our?" Sarah's brow arched and she pushed her wet hair behind her shoulders, rinsing it into the tub.
"The dunderheads downstairs hold no interest to me," Jaime complained to her. "I do not wish to dine with them. Although your company is not much better, I can trust you not to get drunk and grow annoying."
"I should suppose so," nodded Sarah. "Fine. I'll call you back in when I'm finished."
"As you say, little stag," Jaime complied and left the room.
He waited outside in the hallway for her to call him back into her room. She did so in a moment, pulling the door open and she looked at him, wondering if he intended to move. He was looking at her for a few seconds, wondering if it could be possible. She wore a gown of simple taste, a red one on her body. But this one was low cut and Jaime wondered if it was even possible. He could see the top of her cleavage as she fiddled with the gown.
"Your sister deemed it necessary to give me a new wardrobe before I left," Sarah said. "Apparently the gowns up North are nowhere near as nice as the ones in the South. I ruined my only simple gown that fit me."
Sarah moved further into the room, giving Jaime room to move into the space. She sat down on the side of the bed and looked down at her chest, doing her best to pull the gown up and cover herself more.
She did her best not to look at Jaime, knowing full well where his orbs were situated.
Jaime supposed he wasn't looking at her with lust. No, of course he wasn't. He was simply amazed that she had a figure under those un-shapely gowns of hers.
"Robb Stark won't know where to look," Jaime told her, nodding his head in her direction.
She blushed ferociously but said nothing in response. She moved back to her trunk and did her best to find some gown which was a little more conservative.
"I wouldn't mind, but your sister had all of my other gowns thrown out," Sarah said. "She told me that they were not appropriate. I could hardly be rude, could I? It is a great honour for her to have presented me with a gift."
Yes, a gift that is far too tight on you. I wonder if Cersei knew that? Thought Jaime.
"Yes," agreed Jaime. "She is loving; that sister of mine."
Sarah said nothing back to him as she finally found her robe. She pulled it around her body, covering herself up and Jaime looked amused as he heard a knock on the door.
"You cannot wear your robe all the time," Jaime said to her. "Some may find it conspicuous."
"Perhaps," Sarah whispered.
Jaime opened the door and took the two plates from the innkeeper's wife. She stared at him with wide eyes, but Jaime simply thanked her and closed the door. He placed the plates on the small desk and Sarah looked at the food. A frown crossed Jaime's face.
"Well, it certainly isn't much, but it is substantial."
He picked up a slice of bacon whilst Sarah took a seat on the chair at the desk. She picked up the knife and fork and began to cut at her food slowly whilst Jaime hovered over her, standing and eating his food with his fingers.
He soon stopped crunching and began to peel his uniform from his body. Sarah's brow arched as she wondered what he was doing.
"Men's blood becomes different when it is high with alcohol," Jaime explained to Sarah. "Most of the men down there have no allegiance to any House. They've seen you covered in a cloak and underclothes. You're the only female in sight, apart from the wife of the innkeeper."
"They would not try anything," Sarah scoffed. "Why have a guard if they cannot protect me?"
"Because the guard have no room to sleep in here, and most of them will be unconscious by the time the darkness has struck."
"Then what is the point in them being here? They're not very observant."
"They're not very clever," Jaime replied, finally standing before her in his simple white attire. "I think you've been through enough this evening. I will stay and make sure that nothing happens."
"Will that not look suspicious?"
"Only to those who dare come near the room tonight," Jaime told her. "And then they'll be dead before they can lay a finger on you. One mistake happened today, I do not intend to be responsible for another one."
Wincing, Sarah ate a small piece of potato and found that her appetite had disappeared. She moved over to the bed and left the chair for Jaime to sit on. She crossed her legs underneath herself, watching him as she played with the end of her wet hair.
"What would have happened?" she suddenly wondered. "If you did not find me?"
"They'll have had you until they were tired," Jaime told her. "Perhaps they would have killed you after. I do not pretend to know what goes on in the mind of men who are willing to rape. I cannot comprehend it, little stag."
"Would Robb Stark still have had me?" she wondered, getting to the main issue which she wanted to know the answer to.
Jaime shrugged, more concerned with cutting up the sausage on his plate. "The good and honourable Ned Stark would probably have taken you in. He's a generous soul. It depends how importantly your maidenhead is valued."
Sarah kept quiet then, biting down on her bottom lip as Jaime regarded her with caution for a moment.
"You do not want this marriage anyway," he told her simply. "I have seen the way you look whenever the Stark boy is mentioned. They say he is turning into a handsome man."
"That he may be," nodded Sarah. "But Winterfell is not near Dragonstone, is it? It is not near my mother and sister. Besides, I do not know him. How can anyone be expected to marry someone who they do not know?"
"It is the way of Westeros," Jaime replied, recalling the time his father was going to force him to marry Lysa Arryn. He could only thank the Gods that it had never happened. "Your father and mother shall see you at the ceremony. I even heard dear old Stannis thought of bringing your disfigured sister."
"Don't you dare say anything about Shireen," she warned him. "She is a sweet girl. Her greyscale does not take anything away from her."
"It makes her unable to marry." Jaime said. "Then again, someone may take pity on her, although-"
Jaime was silenced as he turned back to eat his sausage. He felt something soft hit his head. He doubled back and looked at the pillow which sat on the floor then. He moved his eyes over to Sarah again, her glare causing words to fail him.
"Never speak of my sister again," Sarah warned him. "She is none of your concern."
Jaime's eyes met hers and he realised that he had overstepped the mark. Apparently the girl was very concerned over her sister. She stood up and moved to her trunk, dragging her nightclothes from it. She hid behind the screen and changed whilst Jaime kept quiet, the tension growing between both of them.
"I meant no offence," Jaime apologised to her. "I was speaking the truth."
Sarah groaned as she pulled the dress from her body and she closed her eyes. She knew he was right. Her father had said so himself. He'd told Selyse how Shireen may never marry. Not that Selyse wanted her daughter to ever go out. She saw Shireen as a disappointment.
"Just say nothing of Shireen again," Sarah spoke, finally finishing changing.
She moved to the bed and pulled the covers back.
"You aren't going to sleep already, are you?" Jaime wondered.
"No," Sarah said. "I intend to read for a while."
Sarah kept quiet before she looked over to Jaime. He appeared fed up as he lounged back in the chair he sat in. She wondered what ran through his mind sometimes. He always seemed to be contemplating something; or perhaps someone. Sarah didn't know.
"You're right, I don't want to marry Stark."
Jaime looked over to where Sarah sat. She held her book in her hand, her eyes focused on the words which sat on the page. Jaime rolled his eyes. That really wasn't so hard to figure out. She could have given him a more difficult challenge.
She said nothing for a second before she turned the page;
"You're right," she assured him. "I want nothing to do with the North."
"Then why did you not fight the King when he told you your fate?"
"My father tried," Sarah reminded him. "What good did it do me?"
"Then why not try and run?" Jaime asked her. "I am sure Stannis would have aided you that night if he cared for you so much."
"My father would not allow it." The girl spoke with such authority that he wondered if she had ever done anything other than what her father had told her to do.
He smirked once. "Stannis Baratheon is a cold man, I suppose. Tell me, has your father always dictated your life, or are you just too scared to defy him?"
She took a moment to think before answering. "Both."
Jaime shifted in his seat as the little stag tore her eyes away from her book and met his green orbs.
"I don't want to disappoint him. What child wants to disappoint their father?"
Gulping, Jaime thought back to what he had done when his father had told him of the arrangement he had thought up with the Tully House.
"Sometimes disappointment is necessary if we are to choose our own path," Jaime told her. "Do you honestly believe my father was proud of me when I became a member of the Kingsguard? No. He detested me for it. He resented me for going against his wishes and becoming Lord of Casterly Rock. He still disapproves to this day."
Sarah took a moment to look down, shyly staring at her lap. "Then why did you do it?"
"Glory, honour," Jaime said, shrugging nonchalantly. "I am happy for it. Tell me; are you happy with becoming the Lady of Winterfell one day?"
Sarah said nothing for a moment, closing her book and resting it on her bedside table.
"No," Jaime answered for her, "you're not, and now you have no choice but to go North. I do not intend to let you escape for I would lose my head and I happen to be quite fond of it. We cannot always be what we are expected to be. I would know better than most."
Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, she brought her knees up to her chin, resting it on the caps.
"But...it is only right to obey, isn't it?" Sarah checked. "I mean, my father has told me...the King..."
"If I had that thought, do you think your uncle would have been on the throne?" Jaime asked, picking up another piece of bacon. "No, little stag. You make the most of what there is."
He stood up and wiped his hands on his upper thighs before nodding at her. "Stay here. I'm going to check on the men. I'll be back in a while."
Sarah nodded at him and he left her alone with her thoughts. She supposed he did speak sense. Her father would scold her for thinking such a thing, and that thought alone made her smirk.
...
A/N: So thank you to my one reviewer for the last chapter. Please, if you are reading then let me know what you think so far, or just to say that you're reading. It would mean a lot!