Thanks to everyone for continuing to read my story. Now it's time for Littlefinger to get into the mix…

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Chapter 8

Sansa awoke with a start, not recognizing the room she was in; nor the bed. She felt an arm tighten around her waist and, as she took in her own naked body drawn across Jaime's, she realized where she was and remembered the night before. Sansa rested her head against his chest and looked around the room as the morning light streamed in through the windows. This was the first time she had slept through the night in months. She finally felt safe, knowing that Joffrey would not dare harm her while she slept in Jaime's arms.

Sansa had always been told that it would be one of her duties, as a wife, to lie with her lord husband; that she was to please him and give him children. She'd had the impression it would be rather unpleasant and painful. No one had ever told her that bedding could bring her pleasure as well. Except for Jaime. He told me it would feel good.

She had never felt anything like what she felt when Jaime had buried his face between her legs, kissing and licking her most private spot. No one ever told her that people did such things. She knew it was scandalous, but it had felt so good, leaving her shaking and unable to think. At first it had scared her, to lose control that way, but then, when she'd surrendered to it, Sansa had never wanted it to end. Jaime gave her the first moment of pleasure she'd felt since her father was killed and she desperately wanted to feel it again.

Sansa turned her head and watched Jaime sleep for a few moments. He looked peaceful – which was not a word she would have ever used to describe Jaime Lannister. My husband. It seemed strange to her that she was a married woman. Especially that this man was the one holding her in his arms as her husband.

She raised her hand to his face, gently brushing a few blonde locks from his forehead. She looked at his handsome face for a few moments before running her fingers down the side of his face. Last night, when he had undressed, Sansa had been unable to stop herself from staring at his naked form. She'd never seen a man naked before and Ser Jaime's muscled, golden body was glorious. Now, while he slept beside her, she wasn't able to resist touching him. She ran her fingers over his warm chest, and down over the muscles of his stomach. He's so beautiful. Sansa had always liked pretty things. The sheet was draped across his hips and she considered whether she should continue touching him. She glanced back at his face again, confirming that he still slept.

Sansa wanted to explore his body, though she wondered if it was proper for her to do so. He is my lord husband. He is mine and I am his. That's what we said yesterday in the sept. She ran her hand over his stomach, brushing over the soft hairs that began at his bellybutton and disappeared beneath the sheet. Her fingers played with the hairs right above the edge of the sheet. Sansa slowly eased the sheet off of his hips, uncovering her own body in the process and hesitated at the sight of Jaime in his naked glory. She rested a hand on his hip and felt a pulsing between her thighs and realized what she was feeling was arousal.

"Don't stop now." She turned her head and met his glittering green eyes, watching her. "Good morning." She blushed, embarrassed he'd caught her admiring his body, but held his gaze. Jaime seemed to know what she was thinking. Perhaps he could see the desire in her eyes.

"Did my little wife not get enough of my body last night," he asked with a smirk. "I didn't think you'd be so insatiable." Her mouth dropped open and she was about to move away when he grabbed her, pinning her onto her back, caging her beneath his naked body. "You're going to have learn to take a bit of teasing, Sansa," he said jokingly, as lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her passionately. "I didn't hurt you last night did I," he asked seriously.

She shook her head. She wasn't used to being able to touch him whenever she wished and hesitantly smoothed a hand over his hair. "I'm not hurt. It was – You were perfect. Gentle and perfect." As she looked in his eyes, Sansa could almost believe that she was wrong to doubt the existence of a brave and shining knight who would save her. She ran her hand down to cup his cheek, the stubble on his face tickling her fingers.

An expression she could not read flashed across his face for a moment. Then it was gone and Jaime kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt Jaime slide his hand down the side of her body. "Wrap your legs around me," he whispered between kisses and Sansa did as he asked, her breath catching as she felt him hard against her. Jaime sat up on his heels, lifting her onto his lap. She tried not to feel self-conscious as he looked over her breasts in the morning sunlight."Did you enjoy being with me last night," he whispered against her neck, as he sucked on her pale skin.

"Yes," she answered quietly.

"Is it a pleasure you'd like repeated?"

She nodded and felt him lift her hips and lower her onto him, groaning as he filled her. She clutched him to her as Jaime dug his hands – flesh and metal – into her hips and moved her against him. Gods this feels good, Sansa thought. Why did no one ever tell me how good this would feel?

She rested her hands on his shoulders to give herself leverage as she tried to copy the pace Jaime set. More than anything, Sansa wanted to feel that rush of pleasure she'd felt last night. She wanted her mind to shut off so she could forget all the bad things that had happened to her. She found herself aggressively grinding her hips against him, moaning at the feel of Jaime inside her. He slid his hand down to her ass, squeezing her affectionately. "I never dreamed my proper little wife would like fucking so much."

She glared at his filthy mouth and dug her nails into his shoulders, which only made him chuckle as he watched her. She increased her pace and Jaime reached between their bodies, stroking her until she felt that rush of pleasure overtake her and Jaime continued moving her hips against his until he followed her off the edge of pleasure.

Jaime fell back onto the pillows, as Sansa sat astride him, throwing her head back and breathing heavily. He was still inside her and Sansa was finding it difficult to catch her breath. She leaned her head forward as her eyes refocused, and looked at Jaime. He was gasping for breath and staring at her body with eyes dark with desire. His good hand stroked up and down her hip. Sansa thought about the queen telling her about controlling a man with "that hole between her legs" and now realized what she had meant. Sansa saw that at this moment, Jaime would do whatever she asked of him.

She moved forward, kissing him and moved her mouth to his ear. "Thank you."

He chuckled, running his hand over her hip. "I think I should thank you, my lady. I could get used to waking up to this."

She shook her head, settling her body on top of his. "Thank you for taking away the pain…letting me forget all I've lost, all that has been done to me…even if only for a few moments."

Sansa felt his arms wrap around her as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. She never thought she would feel anything other than the fear that had surrounded her for months and months. After her own family abandoned her to Lannisters and Kings Landing, she never dreamed that anyone would make her feel protected and safe.

Why wouldn't Robb come for me? Why would he leave me here with them? Jaime must have felt her tears on his skin because he rolled onto his side, enveloping her with his body and started stroking her hair and murmuring in her ear, gently kissing her temple, plainly trying to comfort her.

….

Jaime knocked on the door to his father's solar, going inside once his father bid him to enter. Lord Tywin's desk was covered with papers and maps. Jaime didn't know what his father was working on, but his father seemed certain that the Lannisters would soon have a great victory in the war.

"Jaime, what can I do for you? Shouldn't you be with your bride?"

"Do you happen have mother's jewels here with you?"

His father looked at him cautiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Sansa is the future Lady of the Rock. She should look as such. It wouldn't do for my wife to look as if she were not accepted as part of the family. It's hardly fitting for my wife to run around in her childhood jewelry. I'd like to give her something that belonged to my mother." Jaime had gotten the idea in his head this morning that he should do something to make Sansa happy. If Cersei was any indication, jewels made women happy.

He'd had every intention of keeping her at a distance. He'd tried to keep it as nothing but sex this morning, but when she'd told him that she was chasing physical pleasure to forget her pain, she had touched his heart and made him want to comfort her. And then when he'd felt her tears on his neck, he'd been lost. He understood her desire to indulge in the pleasure of fucking to forget the pain and hurt that weighed on her mind; he felt it as well. His little wife had certainly made him feel alive last night and again this morning. She made him feel like a man and not a useless cripple.

He knew it was trivial, but he thought a small gift would make her happy. Make her smile. As much pleasure as she had brought him, he didn't like seeing her cry. Jaime owned that he felt close to her - protective of her - because she was the only woman he'd made love to besides Cersei.

Tywin leaned back in his chair. "The marriage was consummated last night?"

Jaime had little doubt that his father had stationed guards outside the door to his chamber, and knew full-well that he had bedded Sansa last night, but he played along. "It was."

"And when can I expect to hear that she carries your child?"

Jaime hated the way his father made him feel like a 9-year-old being scolded for jumping off the cliffs at Casterly Rock. "I see no reason why Sansa will not be with child very soon."

"See to it that she is." Tywin directed Jaime to a small cabinet. "Take what you'd like. As your wedding gift to her." Jaime felt his father's eyes on his back as he looked for the piece of his mother's jewelry he wanted for Sansa. "Before you arrived in Kings Landing, Petyr Baelish expressed an interest in Sansa Stark being given to him as a reward for his efforts. For bringing the Tyrells into the fold."

Jaime wasn't terribly surprised. Rumor had it that Littlefinger had always loved Catelyn Stark and Sansa very much resembled her mother. "Why didn't you give her to him?"

His father gazed at him as if he were a simpleton. "I'd never give Winterfell to Petyr Baelish. Harrenhal will do well enough for him. I have heard from Varys that he is none too pleased that Sansa was given to you."

"Why do you tell me this?"

"I tell you this because Baelish is not to be trusted. You should be aware of his intentions toward your wife." His father rose from his seat and walked towards him. "Jaime, I've noticed that you seem rather fond of her."

"She's a sweet girl. It's not difficult to like her," he murmured as he found what he was looking for and closed the cabinet.

"Be sure you don't lose your head." He looked at his father questioningly. "I don't expect my heir to allow a young girl to lead him around by the cock. Enjoy having a pretty, willing young girl in your bed, by all means, but don't lose sight of what his marriage is: a political match. It won't be long before I see her brother dead and your children as heirs to both Casterly Rock and Winterfell."

Jaime nodded, understanding what his father was telling him. And he knew was right.

….

Jaime walked into the dining room and saw that Sansa and Tyrion were there breaking their fast. He stood in the doorway and watched her for a moment. He'd enjoyed her eagerness this morning. It had reassured him that she wanted to be in his bed. He had not thought that proper Lady Sansa would turn out to be such a passionate little thing in his bed.

"You have the happy glow of a new bride, my lady," he heard Tyrion say as he looked at Sansa over his cup. "I think you may prove to be my favorite sister. Though, that's not a very difficult feat," he said dryly.

Jaime walked to the table and sat beside Sansa, smiling in greeting at his brother who was seated across from him. Jaime placed the box he had just appropriated from his father beside her plate.

"What's that," she asked.

"Open it." She opened the box and her eyes lit up when she saw the bauble inside. Truth be told, it was more than a bauble. She ran her fingers over the golden medallion inlaid with emeralds and diamonds. "Would you like me to put it on you?"

She nodded and Jaime removed the necklace from the box and secured it around Sansa's neck. "Where did you get this?" she asked breathlessly, picking up the pendant to examine more closely.

"It was our mother's," Tyrion said, looking at Jaime with an unreadable expression.

"My father had it. It seemed appropriate for the future Lady of Casterly Rock to have some jewels. My father gave it to my mother on their wedding day. Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful. Thank you," she said, kissing him softly. She looked over at Tyrion, a blush on her cheeks as she remembered they weren't alone. "The rest of my belongings are being moved into your chamber. I should oversee that," she said, by way of explanation as she left the dining room, running her fingers over the pendant hanging from her neck and a happy smile on her face.

"My dear brother, whatever did Lady Sansa do last night to earn that gift," Tyrion asked with a raised eyebrow.

Jaime smiled at his brother. "She's a Lannister now. She's entitled to it."

"You do know that Cersei will be…displeased when she sees your bride wearing mother's jewelry. It seems that last night went well. I'm not asking for details – though I'd happily listen. Are you pleased with your bride?"

"She's a sweet girl. She's quite affectionate," Jaime trailed off.

"And I understand she's very fond of knights. Fortunate for her it was you that agreed to marry her."

"She's been hurt enough by her dreams of knights and princes. This isn't a romance. It's part of father's plan to win this war."

"Then why are you draping her in jewels?" Jaime didn't have an answer for him. He had resigned himself to a marriage which would be merely of convenience. That saving her from Joffrey would be a way to redeem himself for his past misdeeds. But Sansa turned out to be more than a symbol of his redemption. She was a real person. A real woman. And the man in Jaime couldn't ignore her.

….

As Sansa was walking to her bedchamber, she saw Petyr Baelish standing in the hallway. She looked at him curiously. "Lord Baelish, what brings you to the tower of the hand?"

"I wished to speak to you," he said smoothly.

"Why would you wish to speak to me?" She didn't trust Lord Baelish. He claimed to have been a childhood friend of her mother's, but there was something about him that made her uneasy. Perhaps it was the fact that he claimed loyalty to her mother, yet here he was serving the Lannisters. Sansa reminded herself that he was the one who brought the Tyrells over to the Lannister side in this war. If it weren't for him, Stannis Baratheon would have won the battle and she might be with her mother and her brother. She'd never forgive him for that.

He smiled a smile which she expected was meant to put her at ease. "I care for your mother very much. Which means I care for you."

"That's not necessary, Lord Baelish. I'm a married woman now. Jaime will take care of me."

"My dear," he began, moving closer to her, "I fear that your reliance on the Kingslayer is misplaced." He lowered his voice, speaking to her quietly. "Do you really know him? After only a few days in his company?"

"I know that he stopped Joffrey from harming me. That's more than you ever did for me. That's more than anyone here ever did for me."

"Lord Tywin has arranged this marriage, so that the Kingslayer could get a child on you. A child that will inherit your claim to Winterfell, should your brother die. I had hoped to get to you before your wedding. Out of loyalty to your mother, I will help you leave here -"

She interrupted him, not wishing to hear anymore. "You allowed my father to be taken prisoner and executed, despite your loyalty to my mother. And I've been here for months and months. Why all of a sudden would you help me?"

"There was nothing I could do for your father, Sansa, though I did try. The King and the Queen Regent were most determined. Would you still like to go home?" he whispered to her.

"Winterfell's gone. Destroyed by the Greyjoys."

He moved toward her, taking her arm, and walking her further down the hallway. "Would you like to go to your mother?"

"Of course." She dared not hope that she could actually be with her mother again. That she could put the nightmare of Kings Landing behind her forever. "But how? I'm married to Jaime now."

"Give me some time to make arrangements. When do you leave for Casterly Rock?

"After Joffrey's wedding."

"I'll speak to you before then. Has your marriage been consummated?"

She stiffened before slowly raising her eyes to his. There was something about the way he asked the question that made her uneasy. "Why would you ask that?"

"If you carry the Kingslayer's child, the Lannisters will hunt you forever. Lord Tywin will not allow Jaime's heir to fall into the hands of the Starks. They will never let his child go." She supposed that was a reasonable explanation, but it didn't entirely satisfy her.

"I must go," she said, turning towards her bedchamber.

"Take care, my dear," he said, kissing her hand and leaving her.

Sansa didn't know what to do. He had offered to take her to her mother. But there was something about his manner that she didn't trust entirely. Something in his eyes that made her uncomfortable. Especially, the way he'd asked about Jaime bedding her. Lord Baelish could have helped her so many times, and he never did. Why should she put her faith in him now?

And she was Jaime's wife. She made vows before the seven. Not that she had much choice in the matter. But he was the only one who had actually helped her. Jaime has protected her. Can I really just walk away from him and put my trust in Littlefinger?