Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews, and for all of the follows and favorites. The next couple of chapters are little more plot-driven, but I need to get the story to a certain point…hope you enjoy it!

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Chapter 20

The trial by battle was to take place on the tournament grounds. The huge platform King Robert sat on during Eddard Stark's tournament was occupied by the royal family, save the boy king. That was where Jaime and Sansa sat with Lord Tywin and Ser Kevin. Cersei elected to stand down on the field beside Ser Gregor, with the Kettleblacks as her guards. It looked as though a thousand people had come to see if Tyrion would live or die. They lined the castle wallwalks and elbowed one another on the steps of keeps and towers. They watched from the stable doors, from windows and bridges, from balconies and roofs. And the yard was packed with them.

"Do you think that the Prince can beat the Mountain," Sansa whispered anxiously. Jaime could see that she wished to be anywhere but there, though she was determined to do her duty as a member of House Lannister and, secretly, to support Tyrion. And me as well, I expect. She seemed terrified, knowing she would see someone die a brutal death. But Lord Tywin had not given them any choice in their appearance. At least King Tommen was spared the spectacle.

"Ser Gregor is almost three times the size of Prince Oberyn." Jaime spoke quietly to Sansa, looking over the field. "He has been known to cut men in half with a single blow. His armor is so heavy that no lesser man could bear the weight, let alone move it. The gods will have to be on the Prince's side if he is to win."

"I saw the Mountain decapitate his horse in my father's tournament when he lost the joust," she said fearfully. "Then he tried to kill Ser Loras. The Hound had to stop him." He saw Sansa look over at the Prince as he entered the arena beside Tyrion and her eyes widened.

The Red Viper carried a spear, not a sword. He was lightly armored – only his shoulders, wrists, knees and throat were covered. Otherwise, he was clad in supple leather and flowing silks. He did not have a quarter of the protection of Clegane's heavy plate. With its visor removed, the prince's helm was effectively no better than a half-helm – his face almost completely exposed. He carried a round shield of red, white and yellow gold, as well as copper.

Jaime turned to his father and saw Lord Tywin glance briefly at his dwarf son. Then he lifted his hand, commencing the trial by battle.

There were fifty yards between Clegane and the Prince. The Red Viper advanced quickly, Ser Gregor more ominously. When the two men were ten yards apart, the Red Viper stopped and called out, "Have they told you who I am?"

"Some dead man," Clegane ground out.

"I am Oberyn Martell, a prince of Dorne," he said, shifting sideways. "Princess Elia was my sister."

"Who?" asked Clegane.

The Prince jabbed at him with his spear, but the point hit Clegane's shield. "Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne," the Red Viper hissed. "You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children."

Sansa moved closer to Jaime in fear and he wrapped his arm around her. This will not end well. The Red Viper is too consumed with revenge. His focus is not on the battle. The men circled one another, as the Dornishman made jab after jab at the giant knight. At least Clegane makes a large target, Jaime thought. But the spear did not pierce the armor. They moved across the yard for a long time, round and round, Ser Gregor slashing at the air while the Prince's spear struck at arm, leg and twice at his temple.

Jaime's sword hand twitched and he silently cursed Vargo Hoat. If he still had his hand, this madness would be over. Cersei and Lord Tywin would despise him for it, but Jaime would not hesitate to stand as Tyrion's champion. Sansa clutched his arm and Jaime turned his attention back to the battle.

The Prince kept repeating the same words: "You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children."

Finally, Prince Oberyn's spear flashed like lightening and found the gap in the heavy plate, just under the arm. The point punched through mail and boiled leather. Clegane gave a choked grunt as the Dornishman twisted the spear and yanked it free.

The Prince circled Clegane and the huge knight went down on one knee. The Prince plunged his spear in again, between the plates on thigh and calf. The sword went flying from the Mountain's hand and he rolled onto his back. Oberyn charged at the Mountain and drove the spear down with the whole weight of his body behind it. The crack of the shaft of the spear was echoed by Cersei's wail of fury.

Sansa gasped, clutching Jaime's arm in excitement. "He's done it. He's beaten him." Jaime glanced over at Tyrion and saw victory on his brother's face.

Clegane tried to get up but the spear had pierced the ground and pinned him to it. He tried to pull it out but could not as a pool of blood spread out beneath him. The Dornishman grabbed Clegane's sword and held it as if to drive it through the fallen knight when Clegane's hand shot out and grabbed the Prince behind the knee, pulling him on top of him. Jaime felt Sansa's nails digging into his arm as Clegane pulled the Prince close. He pulled Sansa to his chest, turning her head away as Clegane smashed the Prince's skull with his bare hands.

Jaime looked across the field and saw Tyrion on his knees, retching, as Lord Tywin spoke the words that condemned his son to death. Tyrion began to laugh hysterically as the gold cloaks dragged him down to the black cells. The Prince was so close. Tyrion was so close to freedom. Cersei met Jaime's eyes; the joy and triumph in hers was unmistakable.

Jaime turned his attention back to Sansa, tilting her chin up so he could see her eyes, and wiped the tears that had formed. "I'm getting you out of here," he whispered, taking her hand. She turned her head toward the field and Jaime stopped her before she saw the two men and their gruesome injuries. "Don't look, Sansa."

She nodded and clutched his arm. As they walked through the Red Keep, back towards the Tower of the Hand, King Tommen came running up to them and hugged Sansa around the waist. "I haven't seen you for days."

Sansa looked down at Tommen with a gentle smile on her lips as she ran her fingers over his short blonde curls. Jaime leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Are you all right here for a few minutes? There are some arrangements I need to make." He could see in her eyes that she knew the arrangements were for Tyrion.

"Please don't do anything dangerous," she whispered back.

"Don't worry, I'm very good at this sort of thing," he said with a smile. "Your grace, could I trouble you to keep my lady wife company for a few minutes?"

Tommen nodded and took her hand. "Come with me, Sansa, I want you to meet Ser Whiskers." She allowed the little king to lead her away, though she glanced back at Jaime, silently asking him to be careful.

Jaime sighed and walked off in search of Lord Varys. Once he found his way into the eunuch's chambers, Jaime awaited his return, sharpening his dagger on the stone walls with one hand, taking comfort from the scrape-scrape-scrape of steel on stone. Varys entered in a cloud of powder and lavender. Jaime stepped out behind him, knocking him to the ground and shoved the knife up under his soft white chin, forcing his head up. "Why, Lord Varys," he said, pleasantly, "fancy meeting you here."

"Ser Jaime?" Varys panted. "You frightened me."

"I meant to," he said menacingly, pressing the dagger against the eunuch's neck, drawing a small trickle of blood. "I was thinking that you might help me pluck my brother from his cell before Ser Ilyn lops off his head. It is an ugly head, I grant you, but Tyrion only has the one."

"Yes…well…if you would…move your blade … yes, gently, as it please my lord, gently…" The eunuch touched his neck and gaped at the blood on his fingers. "I have always abhorred the sight of my own blood."

"You'll have a good deal more to abhor, unless you help me."

Varys struggled to a sitting position. "Your brother…if the Imp should vanish unaccountably from his cell, q-questions would be asked. I would f-fear for my life…Your sister is most determined to see him dead."

"If Tyrion dies, you will not long outlive him, I can promise you that."

The eunuch sucked the blood off his fingers. "You ask a dreadful thing…to lose the Imp who slew our lovely king. Or is it that you believe him innocent?"

"That is no concern of yours. Innocent or guilty," Jaime said, "a Lannister pays his debts." I owe my brother a tremendous debt. And I do love him. Cersei will burst into a million pieces with her rage, but I will free him.

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Sansa sat atop a large fur rug with Tommen as his kittens wrestled with one another between them. She had known that Jaime would help Tyrion – and she wanted him to – but she was afraid that he would endanger himself. Please be careful, Jaime. I don't know what I'd do if you were taken from me.

"Did you watch the battle?" Tommen asked quietly. "Mother wanted me to go but I was afraid. I don't like seeing blood…not like Joffrey did. She said I was acting like a baby, not a king. Grandfather said I didn't have to, though."

Sansa smiled, watching the boy curiously and wondering if the child growing inside her would be anything like Tommen. He had Jaime's green eyes and blonde hair, and his facial features favored Jaime. But the little boy's personality was nothing like the man Sansa had married. She couldn't help wondering if Jaime was this sweet as a young boy. And if he was, what had happened to change him.

"I didn't want to go to the battle either," she confessed to Tommen. "But Jaime…Jaime needed someone with him. It has not been easy for him to see his brother accused of treason and Jaime needed me by his side."

"Because you're his lady wife?"

"Yes. It makes it easier, sometimes, to do difficult things, if you have someone you love with you."

"And you love my Uncle Jaime?"

Sansa smiled. "I love him very much," she answered quietly.

"I'd like to be married," Tommen said suddenly.

Sansa tried not to laugh. "You're only eight years old, your grace. You have a long time before you will marry."

Tommen handed her a kitten and leaned his head against her, as he stroked the kitten's soft fur. "But Margaery said that she could be my queen. I do like her, and her ladies. They're nice to me and they play with me. She gave me these kittens."

Sansa understood now. Margaery wanted to be queen, but she didn't want to be Joffrey's queen. I suppose I can't blame her for that. Especially after what I told her. It didn't especially bother Sansa that the Tyrell's had killed Joffrey, only that they were letting Tyrion take the blame for it. Sansa didn't think that Cersei would allow Margaery to marry Tommen – he was just a little boy. Though Cersei seemed determined to turn him into Joffrey. He is a sweet thing. I hope the child inside me is just as good-natured.

"Have you ever been to Casterly Rock?" she asked him, not sure if he had been told of Lord Tywin's plan to send him on as Jaime's ward.

"No. Mother's told me about it before. Well, she told Joffrey about it and I was listening. Mother always liked talking to Joffrey more than me and Myrcella. Do you and Uncle Jaime have to go?" So, it seems he doesn't know he's to come with us.

"I'm afraid we do, sweetling. Jaime will be Lord of Casterly Rock one day, and Lord Tywin wants us to live there as soon as possible."

He nodded, sadness clear on his features, though he brightened as Margaery glided into the room. Sansa looked at her, not sure what to say. They had not spoken since before Joffrey died, when Margaery had instructed her to stay near Jaime for the entire wedding feast. Sansa watched as Margaery curtseyed before the little king.

"May I join the two of you, your grace? Sansa?"

"Of course," she said politely.

Margaery settled opposite her as Tommen continued to play with the kittens. Margaery picked one up and Sansa couldn't stop herself from speaking. "Did you attend the battle, Margaery? There were so many in attendance, I could not make you out."

Margaery regarded her carefully. "I was seated with my father. It seems the gods have spoken regarding my dear Joffrey's tragic death."

"It is very lucky that you did not happen to drink from the cup, once the poison was in it."

Margaery smiled knowingly. "Yes. Well, I've never been one for wine. It appears that is a blessing."

Sansa was about to say something when she heard footsteps and looked up to see Jaime walking towards them. He'll be angry if he hears me even hint that Margaery is to blame for Joffrey's death. She met her husband's eyes and could see that he had a good idea what she was up to.

"Thank you for keeping my lady wife company," he said to Tommen. He nodded to Margaery as he took Sansa's hand and helped her to her feet. "Shall we retire to our bedchamber, my love? There has been quite a lot of excitement today. I think we could both use some quiet."

"Of course," she said, taking Jaime's arm and saying her goodbyes.

"What have you been doing?" he whispered as they walked back toward the Tower of the Hand. He's off plotting treason and he asks what I'm doing?

"What have you been doing?" she whispered back.

Jaime smirked. "Don't try to take on the Tyrell's. It's not necessary and it's not worth the risk. I won't let Cersei kill Tyrion. That's all you need to know. Sansa, if you wake tonight, and I'm not in our bed, close your eyes and wait for my return. Don't come looking for me. And don't ever tell anyone I was gone, all right?"

Sansa nodded, wide-eyed with fear as they entered their chamber and said a silent prayer to the seven to watch over her husband tonight.

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Let me know your thoughts. Next chapter: Tyrion's fate is decided….and a Jaime/Sansa conversation you all should like….