Thank you again for all of the reviews, and for reading. It helps with the writing to know that the story is appreciated. And, with lucky Chapter 13, I give you: the wedding of King Joffrey Baratheon and Margaery Tyrell…

...

Chapter 13

When Joffrey and Margaery's wedding day arrived, Sansa was filled with dread. She thought about Margaery's words to her – that she must stay beside Jaime during the entire wedding feast. And though Sansa could not figure out why, it had seemed important to the future-queen. So Sansa held tight to Jaime's hand as she sat beside him in the Great Sept watching the wedding ceremony.

Even Sansa had to concede that Joffrey and Margaery made a regal couple, as they stood side-by-side between the towering gilded statues of the Father and the Mother. The bride was lovely in ivory silk and Myrish lace, in a maiden's cloak made of a hundred golden roses sewn to green velvet. The seven vows were made, the seven blessings invoked, and the seven promises exchanged. Then it was time for the exchange of cloaks. Lord Tyrell removed his daughter's maiden's cloak, while Joffrey accepted the folded bride's cloak from Prince Tommen. He draped Margaery in the cloak and leaned close to fasten it at her throat. And in that moment, she passed from her father's protection to her husband's. But who will protect poor Margaery Tyrell from Joffrey? .

"With this kiss I pledge my love," Joffrey declared grandly. When Margaery echoed the words he pulled her close and kissed her long and deep. Light danced around the High Septon's crown as he solemnly declared Joffrey of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister and Margaery of House Tyrell to be one flesh, one heart, one soul. Sansa told herself that she should be happy that the wedding had finally arrived because it meant that she and Jaime would be leaving for Casterly Rock soon.

"I feared we'd never escape," Jaime said dryly. They were forced to congratulate the newly married couple. As Jaime kissed the bride's hand, Joffrey pulled Sansa toward him. "Once Queen Margaery is with child, I shall come to your bedchamber and show my uncle how it is done."

"Jaime's not much for sharing, your grace," she said quietly.

"What did you say?" Joffrey asked sharply.

Jaime wrapped his arm around Sansa's waist. "Congratulations, Joff. My dear, we should hurry back to prepare for the feast. We'll see you there, your grace." He kissed the top of her head and escorted her back to the Red Keep.

"That was the longest ceremony I can recall attending of late," Tyrion griped as he walked beside Sansa and Jaime.

"It was lovely. A very beautiful ceremony," Sansa said politely and felt Tyrion glaring at her. "It was…rather long," she conceded.

"Count your blessings that you aren't seated near Joffrey as I am at the wedding feast. Do me a favor brother? I plan to drink myself into a coma. Be sure I make it out of the throne room and back to the tower?"

Jaime laughed. "I'll be sure to have one of father's guards carry you back."

The three of them parted ways as they entered the Tower of the Hand, as everyone was expected to change into even more glamorous finery for the wedding feast. Sansa knew that the feast would last for many hours, as Cersei had arranged for seventy seven courses, seven singers and she was not sure what else. All so that she could impress the Tyrells with the wealth of House Lannister.

"Lady Sansa, you shall be the most beautiful woman in the hall tonight," Jaime said from behind her, after Pia had helped her change into a different, less demure gown than what she had worn to the Great Sept. Her handmaiden had left most of her hair long and loose, though she wore a sparkling hair band with purple jewels in it to match her gown. "Pity it's wasted on such an occasion," he murmured in her ear.

She met his eyes in the mirror. "You look very handsome." She turned and faced him. "Will you promise to stay beside me the whole time, tonight?"

"I promise." He must think I'm being ridiculous, clinging to him throughout the wedding. "And once this extravagance is over, we can leave here." He kissed her softly. "My father would like us to take Tommen with us to Casterly Rock, as my ward. How would you feel about mothering him a bit?"

She was surprised that Cersei would agree to such a thing. "He's sweet. He reminds me of my little brother, Bran." She pushed that thought away as she thought about how she'd never see Bran again. "Will Tommen bring his kittens as well?"

Jaime laughed. "I expect so. I think he'll do well with your influence," he said softly.

"Your sister will allow him to come with us?"

"She'll do as my father tells her to do. She's never paid much attention to Tommen anyway. It's always been Joffrey that's commanded her attention. From the moment he was born."

Sansa didn't know why, but something about the way Jaime was speaking about his sister's children made her think of the rumors about them being his. "Are you very close to Tommen?" She was hesitant to bring it up, but her curiosity got the better of her.

"No," he said, taking her hand. "I expect you know him better than I do." She wanted to ask more, but pushed her curiosity aside for later. They were going to be late for the feast, and she didn't wish to draw the ire of Cersei or Lord Tywin.

Jaime and Sansa walked through the Red Keep to the throne room where the sumptuous and extravagant wedding feast would be held. Sansa couldn't help being dazzled by the finery on display in the throne room. There was still something of the little girl who dreamed of coming to court and wearing a beautiful gown inside her, and that part of Sansa was delighted with everything before her. She'd never seen such jewels and silks, such elaborate hairstyles or such pageantry as she saw at the royal wedding. As members of the royal family, she and Jaime were seated on the dais, though, mercifully, not too near Joffrey.

Although nightfall was still an hour away, the throne room was already a blaze of light, with torches burning in every sconce. Once all of the guests had arrived, the King and his new Queen rode into the throne room on matching white chargers. Pages ran before them, scattering rose petals under their hooves. The Kingsguard escorted them onto the dais, to the seats of honor beneath the shadow of the Iron Throne, which was draped for the occasion in long silk streamers of Baratheon gold, Lannister crimson, and Tyrell green. When the king and queen had taken their seats, the High Septon rose to lead a prayer.

She and Jaime were seated near the queen regent, which would not have been Sansa's choice, though she supposed it was better than being seated near Joffrey. Jaime rested his arm on the back of her chair, and she leaned against him and said a silent prayer that no harm would come to them today.

"Let the cups be filled!" Joffrey proclaimed, once the prayer was over. His cupbearer poured a whole flagon of dark Arbor red into the golden wedding chalice that Lord Tyrell had given him that morning. It was the largest chalice Sansa had ever seen. The chalice was so large and heavy that the king had to use both hands to lift it and proclaim a toast. "To my wife the queen!"

"Margaery!" the hall shouted back at him. A thousand cups rang together, and the wedding feast was well and truly begun. Sansa took a sip of wine, thinking about what Margaery had said to her about staying close to Jaime, and wondering what was going to happen. It must have shown on her face, because Jaime leaned over to kiss her gently. She smiled and rested her hand on his leg beneath the table, not wanting to let go of him for even a moment. She felt eyes on her and turned to see the queen regent watching her with clear hostility. It's her son's wedding day – shouldn't she be happy? She must wish that Jaime would treat me as Joffrey did. What did I ever do to make her hate me so?

The first dish – a creamy soup of mushrooms and buttered snails served in gilded bowls – arrived. She and Jaime each had a few bites before pushing the bowl away. "One done, seventy-six to come," Jaime murmured quietly. He wasn't any more enthusiastic about attending this wedding than she was. The second course was served as the first of the seven singers began his performance. His first song told of the bravery of Lord Renly and Queen Margaery seemed rather tear-eyed at the end. Sansa's eyes wandered to Ser Loras and he seemed rather affected, though he hid it well.

Dishes and diversions succeeded one another at a staggering pace, buoyed along upon a flood of wine and ale. Sansa feared this feast would go on for hours upon hours and her anxiety only increased the more time passed, as she waited for whatever required her to stay near Jaime to happen. She'd have liked to hold his hand, or loop her arm through his, but she knew that was impossible to do while they ate. She settled for resting one hand on his thigh, not wanting to break all contact with him. A couple of times he had looked down at her hand on his leg and then back up at her, clearly wondering what she was about, but she knew he'd never complain about her touching him.

Yet another singer was ushered in and began a song that Sansa had always liked. Back when she thought life was a song. She sipped her wine and absently rubbed Jaime's leg under the table. She felt his hand close over hers, moving her hand more deliberately over his leg – and higher on his thigh. He was enjoying her touch far more than she had realized. He must think my constant touching is a flirtation. She turned to say something to him and found that his mouth was much closer to her than she had realized. "I'd say we're coming along in breaking you of your propriety," he whispered, moving her hand to the front of his breeches and moving it over him. She was startled to realize that he was half hard already. I suppose this is one way to distract myself.

She tried to act as if nothing was amiss, but it was difficult. He released her hand and she felt his hand snaking its way over her leg and pulling up on her gown. She had a good idea what he was after and threaded her fingers through his, stopping him from doing something most improper to her under the table, and glared at him in warning. Jaime only responded with a mischievous smile.

"My dear," he said, raising his voice, "I believe I've forgotten something in our chambers. Will you accompany me?" Whenever he called her "my dear," it was for the benefit of those around them, but she was happy to leave, whatever the reason. Jaime took her hand and they slipped out of the throne room just as Joffrey was calling for his royal jousters.

After they left the throne room, Jaime took her hand and led her down a darkened hallway in the opposite direction of the Tower of the Hand. "You didn't really forget anything did you?"

"I didn't think you'd mind leaving for a while," he murmured, backing her into a large alcove and covering her mouth with his own. Sansa heard herself squeak in surprise as he lifted her into his arms, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. She kissed him back, her hands gripping his shoulders. The kiss was passionate to begin with, but Sansa could barely breathe as Jaime's tongue tangled with her own. Kissing and kissing and kissing.

She gasped, trying to catch her breath, as his mouth moved to her neck. She felt the wall hard against her back as Jaime pressed her against it and moved his hand to pull at the front of her gown, exposing her breasts.

"Jaime," she protested, her hands moving to cover herself.

"Everyone's at the wedding feast," he murmured against her skin as he kissed one breast. "There's no one here to see." Jaime sucked one of her nipples into his mouth and she heard herself moan and immediately clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds she was making. She heard him chuckle against her as he slid his hands – flesh and metal – to her thighs, and shoved her dress up before he pulled the ties on her smallclothes, removing them from her. Her eyes widened at his boldness but he only smirked and slid a finger inside of her. She tried to muffle her moans as he continued to suckle on her and moved his fingers in and out of her, but she could hear the sounds she was making and realized she was failing miserably in her efforts to be quiet.

She felt his finger exit her completely and knew that he was unlacing his breeches. "You're sure no one will see us," she whispered uncertainly. Jaime simply kissed her and moved his hands to her ass as he took her in a single thrust and Sansa gripped his shoulders and moaned. She rested her forehead against his, staring into his eyes as he thrust into her. No one has ever looked at me as he does. I wonder if he could ever love me. She wasn't certain how long they were joined because she lost herself in his eyes. It seemed like he did as well.

She could see in his eyes when he was about to peak and seeing him so overcome with pleasure pushed her over the edge as well and she buried her face against his neck, biting on his shoulder to muffle her cries of pleasure. She leaned her head back against the stone wall and felt Jaime rest his head against her chest. She began stroking his hair and felt his arm wrap around her waist, holding her against him as he softly kissed her chest.

"Jaime," she whispered, waiting for him to look up at her. When he met her eyes, she ran her hand over his hair. "I love you," she whispered, so quietly she wasn't certain he could hear her until she saw the reaction in his eyes.

He reached up and cupped her cheek before gently kissing her. "I don't deserve your love, Sansa," he whispered. She felt vulnerable and exposed as he spoke to her. "You have touched my heart and…you mean more to me than…" He took a deep breath. "I never believed I could love anyone …" He trailed off and she saw vulnerability in his eyes. She knew he was feeling uncomfortable with the emotion between them because he buried his face against her neck, breathing in her scent.

"Will you let me love you?" she asked, hating the cracking in her voice. He nodded, holding her against him and stroking her hair. She wanted to ask if he could ever love her, but she was afraid. Jaime held her for a while before lowering her to her feet. He chuckled as his eyes moved over her and he reached out to pull up her dress, covering her breasts, and threaded his fingers through her hair as she laced up his breeches.

"Do I look all right?" She smoothed her hand over her hair. "I mean, I don't look like –"

"Like your husband just debauched you in the hallway? No. Though your face does have a lovely glow." He kissed her softly. "That was shockingly improper of you, my lady," Jaime whispered as he took her arm to lead her back to the wedding feast. She glared at him, though she wasn't really angry. He kissed the top of her head. "You mean a lot to me, Sansa. Your words mean a lot." She leaned against him and clutched his arm, feeling safe and…happy, even.

She and Jaime walked into the throne room and she heard Joffrey screeching about his uncle not eating his pigeon pie. Poor Tyrion, Joffrey hates him as much as me. She heard Joffrey coughing and choking as he continued yelling. She and Jaime continued walking toward the dais.

"Help the poor boy!" the Queen of Thornes screeched, in a voice ten times her size. "Dolts! Will you all stand about gaping? Help your king!"

Ser Osmund Kettleblack ripped open the king's collar. A fearful high, thin sound emerged from Joffrey's throat. The sound of a man trying to suck a river through a reed. Then it stopped and that was more terrible still. Jaime rushed toward Joffrey and began pounding him on the back. "Turn him over," Mace Tyrell bellowed. "Turn him over and shake him by his heels!" The High Septon began to pray loudly. Grand Maester Pycelle shouted for someone to help him back to his chambers, to fetch his potions. Joffrey began to claw at his throat, his nails tearing bloody gouges in the flesh. Beneath the skin, the muscles stood out hard as stone.

Prince Tommen was screaming and crying, and Sansa took his hand, turning his face away from the choking king. The little prince clung to her as he cried. He is going to die, Sansa realized. She felt strangely calm, though pandemonium raged all about her. She kept her eyes on Jaime, and softly stroked Prince Tommen's hair. They were pounding Joff on the back again, but his face was only growing darker. Half the wedding guests were on their feet, some shoving at each other for a better view, others rushing for the doors in their haste to get away. Ser Meryn pried the king's mouth open to try to clear this throat. As he did, the dying king looked at Tyrion. Joffrey made a dry clacking noise, trying to speak. His eyes bulged white with terror and he lifted a hand…reaching for Tyrion, or pointing…Sansa couldn't see very well.

"Noooo," Cersei wailed, "Jaime help him, Father, someone help him, my son, my son…"

Sansa found herself thinking of her brother Robb. Jaime had refused to tell her any details of how he died, and no one would speak to her of it, but she knew Robb and many others had been slaughtered at a wedding. When she heard Cersei scream, she knew it was over. Cersei sat in a puddle of wine, cradling her son's body. Her gown was torn and stained, her face white as chalk. "The boy is gone, Cersei," Lord Tywin said. He put a gloved hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Unhand him now. Let him go." She did not seem to hear. It took both Jaime and two Kingsguard to pry loose her fingers so the body of King Joffrey Baratheon could slide limp and lifeless to the floor.

Margaery Tyrell began to sob, and Sansa heard her mother saying, "He choked, sweetling. He choked on the pie. It was naught to do with you. He choked. We all saw."

"My son did not choke." Cersei's voice was sharp and venomous. "My son was poisoned." She looked to the white knights standing helplessly around her. "Kingsguard, do your duty."

"My lady?" said Ser Loras Tyrell, uncertain.

"Arrest my brother," she commanded him, pointing at Tyrion. "He did this. The dwarf. He killed my son. Your king. Take him!"

She watched as Jaime grabbed his sister by the arm. "What are you doing?"

"Getting justice for Joff. You saw, with his last breath Joffrey pointed at his killer." She turned on Tyrion. "You threatened me with this. You said that you would take someone I loved. That when I was most happy you would see that it turned to ashes in my mouth, and now you've done it. You've killed my son." Sansa could see that Jaime wasn't sure what to do. They had not seen what had happened, but she knew Jaime would defend his brother.

Sansa looked at the newly-widowed Queen Margaery and met her eyes. And suddenly Sansa knew. Margaery knew this was going to happen. Joffrey didn't choke. Margaery warned me to stay near Jaime so the queen couldn't blame me. Lord Tywin ordered Ser Loras Tyrell to escort his sister, Queen Margaery, to the Maidenvault, and his own guards to escort Sansa and Tommen from the throne room. Jaime nodded for her to go.

Tommen continued to cry, clinging to her as they walked to his chambers. "Why did Joff die?" Tommen asked her miserably.

Sansa knelt down beside the little prince – little king now, she supposed – and wiped his tears. "I don't know, Tommen. You must be brave." He hugged her tightly before going into his bedchamber, desperate for comfort and when he pulled away, Sansa was struck by how much he looked like Jaime. She'd never seen any resemblance between her husband and Joffrey. But Joffrey always had Cersei's cruel expression on his face. Tommen…looked just like Jaime.

Just as Sansa entered her bedchamber, the bells began to ring, signaling Joffrey's death. They had rung for King Robert the same way. Joffrey was dead, he was dead, he was dead, dead, dead. She sat on the bed and felt tears in her eyes. Why am I crying when I want to dance? Were they tears of joy? The gods are just, thought Sansa. It was Robb she wept for. And for herself. I'm finally free of him.

...

We'll see what happens to Tyrion – and if Jaime is able to help him – in the next chapter…