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Chapter 6

Cersei had insisted upon a Lannister family dinner that night, the eve of Jaime and Sansa's wedding, claiming that she wanted to welcome Sansa to House Lannister. Tywin had thought it a good idea, as it also presented an opportunity for the family to spend time with Margaery Tyrell, the future queen, away from the watchful eyes of the rest of the Tyrells. For his part, Jaime was dreading this dinner, and he had no doubt that Sansa was as well. They had managed to avoid both Joffrey and Cersei since their betrothal had been announced, but it appeared their luck had run out.

Sansa spent most of the day hidden away in her bedchamber with the palace seamstress who was completing her wedding dress, while Jaime had been stuck with his father. Lord Tywin had insisted on briefing Jaime on what had occurred with the war during his captivity and discussing the current location of all the troops in Westeros. Jaime had always known that he was his father's favorite child, but now that he had agreed to leave the Kingsguard and take a wife, Tywin favored him even more. He was finally fulfilling his role as heir to Casterly Rock.

He'd also spoken to his father about how unmanageable and violent Joffrey was, and to his surprise, Lord Tywin had agreed, saying that Cersei was the problem. He had suggested that Jaime take Tommen with him to Casterly Rock. He said that Jaime could teach him to be a Lannister and that Sansa seemed more capable of mothering him. Jaime hoped his father had not mentioned that plan to Cersei. He could only imagine how she would explode – and probably direct that anger towards Sansa. He'd rather the girl not have to deal with his sister.

No one had ever brought out his protective instincts the way that Sansa Stark did. When Jaime had seen Ser Meryn humiliating Sansa by describing her nude body, he had been overcome with rage. If he still had his sword hand, he would have killed him right there. He could see that Sansa thought him heroic for defending her this morning, though he personally thought his efforts were inadequate. Meryn and Boros should be dead. It was one more reminder that he was no longer the man he had been.

Jaime hadn't expected his left arm and hand to be so weak. So useless. He had tried and tried – hoping that something would magically click and his left hand would be as good as his right. His pitiful attempts to be the man he used to be had left him feeling useless and ashamed. Sansa had comforted him. She had made him feel as if he had someone who would be there for him. As if he wasn't alone in coping with the loss of his hand. Jaime hadn't intended to kiss her, but his blood was up from his frustrating attempts at using his left hand. She had said such sweet words to him, and touched him so gently, that he couldn't resist kissing her.

Jaime knocked on Sansa's door, and smiled when Pia opened the door. He'd brought the servant girl with him from Harrenhal, and decided she could serve as one of Sansa's handmaidens. All the maids she had when he'd arrived reported to Cersei, and Jaime didn't appreciate being spied on.

"Lady Sansa is ready for you, m'lord," she said, opening the door wider so Sansa could exit her chambers, as Pia discreetly left them there alone.

"You look beautiful," he said, enjoying the sparkling in her eyes at his words. "Far more beautiful than necessary for dinner with my family." Cersei will be irritated by her beauty, no doubt. He noticed that she was wearing Tully blue. It made her eyes look even bluer than they were and contrasted well with her fiery hair.

"Thank you." She nervously took his arm, looking as if he were leading her to the chopping block.

"It won't be that bad," he said, though he was not entirely convinced of that fact. "I'll make sure Joffrey says and does nothing improper. Just kick me under the table if you wish to leave. I'll feign illness and insist we return to the tower," he whispered with a smile. Jaime expected Joffrey would not harass Sansa, as Margaery Tyrell would be there, and Joffrey was under orders from Lord Tywin to behave in the presence of his future queen.

It was a small party, with Lord Tywin and Joffrey seated at opposite ends of the dining table. No one but Cersei could have picked the seating arrangements, as Sansa was to be seated beside Joffrey and Jaime was seated further down the table, beside Cersei. Tyrion deliberately pulled out his own seat for Sansa, taking her place beside Joffrey.

Cersei waited for Jaime to pull out her chair for her and turned to him with a flirtatious smile. He couldn't deny how beautiful she looked. She'd always been so beautiful and so perfect. Jaime looked toward Sansa to see how she fared, and noticed she was speaking to Tommen, on her right. He was glad Tyrion had spared her a seat beside Joffrey. She'd do well speaking to Tommen about his kittens.

Cersei spoke to him in a low voice. "You wed your little wolf girl tomorrow."

"I do," Jaime said, careful to fight his instinct to grab his wine goblet with his non-existent right hand.

"Do you honestly expect her to replace me? In your bed," she whispered.

Jaime was vaguely aware of his father making some sort of speech about the future of House Lannister and Jaime and Sansa's future as Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock.

"Sansa is a beautiful girl. And she will share my bed," he replied in a low voice.

She smiled and reached over, resting her hand on his thigh beneath the table. "Just as I shared Robert's?" Jaime took a deep breath as she moved her hand closer to his cock. "Sansa won't have a clue how to bring you the pleasure I can. I know exactly how you like to be touched." She reached for her wine with her other hand, taking several large swallows. "It must be difficult to pleasure yourself with your off hand," she said quietly, rubbing him through his breeches. Jaime felt himself harden at her touch as she reached for the laces of his breeches.

He and Cersei had frequently pleasured one another beneath the dining table; and they had perfected betraying nothing to those around them. When Cersei slipped her hand into his breeches and grasped his cock, Jaime merely swallowed heavily. As she began stroking him, Jaime looked across the table and saw that Sansa was smiling at something Tyrion had said to her. She met his eyes and she smiled shyly and nodded to him that she was fine here with his family.

As he looked at his sweet wife-to-be, Jaime grasped Cersei's wrist in an iron grip and removed her hand from his cock. The rage in her eyes was unmistakable. Cersei didn't deal well with rejection; but she couldn't shriek at him as she clearly wanted to. Instead, she drank several goblets of wine and directed venomous glances at Sansa throughout dinner. Jaime and Tyrion spoke to their father; Sansa continued her conversation with Tommen; and Joffrey and Margaery discussed their upcoming wedding.

Jaime monitored Sansa, and was relieved to see that Joffrey was on good behavior in front of Margaery Tyrell. Sansa noticed him watching her and met his eyes, smiling again.

"Was your wedding gown completed today, little dove?" Cersei asked, in a syrupy voice, turning her attention to Sansa.

"It was, your grace," Sansa replied quietly.

"I shall come to you in the morning, to help you get ready. Someone must, since your mother is with your traitor brother." Jaime watched as Sansa looked down at her plate, saddened by the reminder that her mother would not be at her wedding. None of her family or friends would be there, either. "We can also talk about what will be expected of you…so you are prepared to begin your marriage." To an outsider, Cersei would have seemed kind and helpful but Jaime recognized the vicious gleam in her eye and knew her intent was to be cruel.

"It's kind of you sister, to act as handmaiden. One would think the Queen Regent had more to concern herself with," Tyrion said, taking a large drink of wine. Jaime shared a look with Tyrion. Jaime could just imagine what Cersei would say to "prepare" Sansa for marriage – and for his bed. He refilled his own wine. This was going to be a long night.

Cersei glared at Tyrion. "Will you be attending the wedding Tyrion? I was concerned that you would be reluctant to attend, because of your disfigurement. I hope you won't allow any embarrassment to keep you away."

"Not at all, sweet sister. I'm simply happy that whomever tried to kill me failed." There was definite tension at the table as Cersei and Tyrion glared at one another. Cersei reached to fill her wine again and Jaime was amused to see his father move the carafe out of her reach with a pointed look.

It was Margaery Tyrell who broke the awkward silence. "Lady Sansa, after you are wed, once you have more free time, I should like it very much if you would visit me in the Maidenvault. Now that we are to be family I hope that we can be friends," she offered, the picture of sweetness.

"Thank you, Lady Margaery. I would be honored," Sansa said, her smile cautious, as she seemed unsure whether Margaery was trustworthy. Jaime didn't entirely trust the Tyrell's. They were far too ambitious to trust. But Cersei and his father only cared about the military might that they could provide.

"That is most generous of you, my lady, to befriend the daughter of a traitor," Joffrey said, gazing lovingly at Margaery. "Lady Sansa, tomorrow I will walk you down the aisle and give you away in marriage, as father of the realm, since your own father cannot. I very much look forward to it." There was something in Joffrey's voice that Jaime did not like. He saw Sansa look down at her plate again, no doubt thinking about her lost family members.

"Thank you, your grace. I don't deserve such an honor," she said quietly.

Jaime looked at her, trying to get her to meet his eyes, but she wouldn't look away from her plate. He saw that Joffrey was about to open his mouth again, but once he saw Jaime glaring at him, Joffrey closed his mouth and ate his dinner.

"Lady Sansa," Jaime said, "it is I who do not deserve such an honor as you becoming my wife." She looked up and met his eyes, a small smile playing at her lips. He knew that she would have to look at him if he addressed her directly. As he and Sansa looked at one another, he could feel Cersei raging beside him, while Lady Margaery sighed dreamily, no doubt thinking his words were quite romantic. Jaime understood why his father frequently claimed to be surrounded by fools.

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Jaime, Tyrion and Sansa returned to the Tower of the Hand after dinner. "You survived your first family dinner, Sansa. Let us hope it will not often be repeated," Tyrion said dryly. "I'll see you both tomorrow. Good night," he said with a wave and a pointed look at Jaime.

Jaime knew what the look was for. Cersei's "preparing" Sansa for the marriage bed would likely consist of scaring the girl. Now Jaime would have to beat her to it and speak to Sansa himself about what would happen on their wedding night. It was not a conversation he was particularly looking forward to, since he was certain to offend her delicate sensibilities. He reached for Sansa's hand as she turned toward her bedchamber.

"I'd speak to you for a moment, my lady, if I may?"

Sansa looked down at their joined hands, before nodding. "Of course, Ser Jaime." He opened her door and she looked at him in confusion.

"I'd like to speak to you privately. In your chamber." He nearly laughed in her face at her scandalized expression. "Don't look so shocked, Sansa. I don't intend to ravage you. Not tonight, at least." She paled at his words and Jaime silently cursed himself for teasing her in such a way – he was only increasing her nerves, not soothing them. He didn't wait for her response, leading her into her bedchamber and dropping onto the small sofa in her room, and pulling her beside him. She looked at him warily.

"You're not afraid of me, are you?"

She shakes her head. "No. Of course not."

"I hope not. I don't mean to scare you with my attentions. Just…push your limits a little," he said with a smirk.

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? To ask if I'm scared of you?"

May as well dive right in. "Did your mother ever discuss with you what would be expected of you in the marriage bed?"

She seemed absolutely horrified at the new topic of conversation. "That is what you wish to speak to me about?" He nodded. "I don't think that would be proper," she said quietly, looking down at her hands.

"You'd rather discuss it with Cersei?" She paled, shaking her head. "I expect she will discuss it with you anyway. I want you make sure you know that you have no reason to be scared." He looked at her seriously. "You didn't answer my question. Do you know what to expect tomorrow night? What will happen when you join me in my bed?"

Jaime didn't think it possible for her to turn the particular shade of red that covered her face. "It appears proper Sansa Stark has had some very unladylike thoughts about me," he murmured with a smile. "I take it you have some idea?"

She nodded, her color slowly returning to normal. The Seven certainly had a sense of humor to saddle this innocent virgin with me. I suppose I'll show her what she doesn't already know tomorrow night. Jaime leaned over and kissed her cheek. "As much pain as my family had caused you," he whispered in her ear before kissing her neck softly, "tomorrow night, a Lannister will finally bring you pleasure. I promise. You have nothing to fear."

Sansa turned to him, and Jaime was certain he saw desire in her eyes. He waited, and he was rewarded when she softly kissed him. "Thank you for being so kind to me," she said, down at her hands again. "No one has for a long time. Before you returned, no one ever really spoke to me except to frighten me." She leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder, and Jaime felt that protective urge overtake him again.

"You've felt very alone, haven't you, Sansa?"

She nodded against his shoulder. Jaime wasn't used to comforting sad females. Cersei rarely showed weakness and rarely wanted comfort. He wasn't sure how he got into this situation. When he had agreed to his father's plan, he had thought that it would simply be a matter of taking the girl to Casterly Rock and bedding her every now and then to produce heirs. Jaime didn't think he would want to see to her comfort as much as he did. And he certainly didn't think that she would be a comfort to him.

Jaime hesitantly wrapped his arm around her and felt her lean against him even more. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "You're not alone anymore." The words fell from his mouth before he could stop them.

"Neither are you," she said so quietly, he barely heard her.

Jaime felt his stomach clench at her sincere words to him. She has the potential to be such a loving little wife. It's a pity I'm the man that I am. "I'll say goodnight now, Sansa. The next time I see you will be at the altar." He kissed her hand before rising from the sofa and quickly left her bedchamber before any more ill-advised words spilled from his mouth.

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Next chapter: Cersei's advice for Sansa, and the Wedding