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Chapter 26

It was daybreak when Jaime rode to the drawbridge to treat with the Blackfish. Sansa had been visibly afraid when he'd mounted his horse to ride out to the castle. She'd insisted on waiting with his cousin, Ser Devan, at the edge of the camp, unwilling to sit in their tent, wondering. Jaime had given in to her request knowing she would be safe sitting on a mare beside Ser Devan.

Jaime drew up a yard from Ser Brynden, and inclined his head to the older man. He looked none the worse for wear, considering he'd been a virtual prisoner inside Riverrun for months. "Kingslayer," said Tully.

That he would make that name the first word from his mouth spoke volumes, but Jaime was resolved to keep his temper. "Blackfish," he responded. "Thank you for coming."

The Blackfish was looking at him the way that Eddard Stark had looked at him when he'd found him on the Iron Throne with the Mad King's blood upon his blade. "I've seen that a lady travels with you, Kingslayer. You've brought your wife here, haven't you? I trust she's in good health?"

"Lady Sansa is quite well."

"I wonder why you would bring her here. Do you plan to place Lady Catelyn's daughter beside Edmure on the gallows?"

Jaime forced himself to ignore the Blackfish's comments regarding Sansa. "I would like to resolve this matter peacefully."

"Peacefully? Is that why my nephew is threatened with hanging each and every day?"

"That is not my doing. And Ryman Frey has clearly failed to move you."

"My nephew is marked for death no matter what I do. So hang him and be done with it. I expect that Edmure is as weary of standing on those gallows as I am of seeing him there."

This was not going well. It was clear to Jaime that the Blackfish was determined to be disagreeable, but Jaime was equally determined to end the siege and get Sansa safely to Casterly Rock. "You hold the Westerlings within the castle. Will you exchange them for Edmure?"

"No. My king entrusted his queen to me and I swore to keep her safe. I will not hand her over to a Frey noose. "

"The girl has been pardoned. No harm will come to her. You have my word on that."

"Your word of honor?" Ser Brynden raised an eyebrow. "Do you even know what honor is, Kinglsayer?"

For one mad moment, Jaime wanted to volunteer that Honor was the name of his horse, but he forbore, sensing the Blackfish was in no mood for his humor. "I will swear any oath that you require."

"Spare me, Kingslayer."

"I want to. Strike your banners and open your gates, and I'll grant your men their lives. Those who wish to remain at Riverrun in service to Lord Emmon may do so. The rest shall be free to go where they will, though I will require them to surrender their arms and armor."

The Blackfish smiled. "And what of me? Will I be paraded through Kings Landing to die like Eddard Stark?" He saw the Blackfish look past him, no doubt seeing Sansa waiting in the distance. "Was it not enough for your family to kill Ned? Kill his son and take his wife prisoner? You Lannisters had to bring an innocent young girl into your war with the Starks? You wish me to accept your word of honor, yet you have defiled Ned Stark's teenage daughter as an act of war?"

"Sansa is my wife. She's not a hostage. I've not mistreated her. I've given her far more protection in this war than her own family has."

"Protection? Your family is who she needs protection from. Your sister and…your bastard son before he was killed. You offer Edmure in exchange for the Westerlings. Will you give me Lady Lannister as well? Will you let her go free?" Ser Brynden asked curiously.

"I'm afraid Sansa belongs to me now," Jaime said tightly. "And she would not wish to be traded. Whatever you think of me, I've never harmed Sansa. It's for her sake that I'd like to avoid storming the castle."

The Blackfish raised an eyebrow. "How many times did you have to violate Sansa before you broke her spirit and she became the dutiful wife?"

"I will permit you to take the black," Jaime ground out, though he wished to knock Ser Brynden from his horse for suggesting that he had raped Sansa into submission.

The Blackfish narrowed his eyes. "No, ser, I think not. I'll die warm, if you please, with a sword in hand running red with lion blood."

"Tully blood runs just as red," Jaime reminded him. "If you will not yield the castle, I must storm it. Hundreds will die."

"Hundreds of mine. Thousands of yours."

"This defiance serves no purpose. The war is done, and your Young Wolf is dead."

"Murdered. In breach of all the sacred laws of hospitality."

"That was Walder Frey's work, not mine."

"Call it what you will. It stinks of Tywin Lannister."

Jaime could not deny that, though the scorn in his voice made Jaime bristle. "There is a quicker way to decide the matter. A single combat. My champion against yours."

"I was wondering when you would get to that." Ser Bynden laughed "Who will it be? Stongboar? Addam Marbrand? Black Walder Frey?" He leaned forward. "Why not you and me, ser?"

That would have been a sweet fight once, Jaime thought, fine fodder for the singers. "My lady wife made me swear not to take arms again against the Starks or Tullys."

"A most convenient oath, ser."

His face darkened. "Are you calling me a coward?"

"No, I am calling you a cripple." The Blackfish nodded at Jaime's golden hand. "We both know you cannot fight with that."

"I had two hands. Some might say a cripple and an old man are well matched." In the heat of anger, Jaime convinced himself that he could actually prevail against the Blackfish in single combat. Ser Ilyn was defeating him less soundly than he had been at the start of their journey. "If Sansa frees me from my vow, I will meet you sword to sword. If I win, Riverrun is ours. If you slay me, we'll lift the siege." Were Jaime not so blinded by anger, he would have realized that Sansa would never give him leave to fight - never permit him to risk death - but he wasn't thinking straight.

Ser Brynden laughed. "As if I could trust the word of Lannisters and Freys. All I would achieve is the pleasure of cutting out your black heart. The siege would continue."

"Are there any terms you will accept?" he demanded of the Blackfish

"From you? No."

"Why did you even come here?" Jaime asked in frustration.

"A siege is deadly dull. I wanted to see this stump of yours and inquire after Lady Catelyn's daughter." The Blackfish wheeled his mare and trotted back toward Riverrun.

Jaime turned around for the long ride back to the Lannister siege lines, overcome with anger and humiliation. He could feel the eyes on him. If they are not blind, they'll all know he threw my offer in my teeth. He would need to storm the castle. Well, what's one more broken vow?

...

Sansa hated being on the battlefield. Though she could see it was where Jaime belonged. His men worshipped him and even Sansa could see that Jaime was a good Lord and a good leader. To see him among his soldiers reminded her of her father. Though Jaime had a more personal relationship with his men than her father ever had. Her father had been much more reserved than Jaime; more serious. She had watched her husband walk through the camp and saw many groups of his men call him aside, to ask him a question or offer him a cup of ale. She could see how much they admired him.

When Jaime began to ride back to her after treating with her Ser Brynden, she could see that he was not happy. Sansa looked at Ser Devan Lannister beside her in question.

He shook his head at her. "It appears Ser Brynden is unwilling to relent."

"What will happen?"

"I expect Jaime will have to convene a war council. Storm the castle."

Sansa felt her heart skip a beat at the thought of Jaime fighting in a war. "Who do you think will prevail?"

"Ser Brynden is greatly outnumbered, my lady. He cannot win."

"You won't allow Jaime to be hurt, will you?" she whispered as her husband neared them.

"Of course not, my lady. I'll personally ensure his safety."

She nodded, somewhat satisfied. As Ser Devan had predicted, Jaime had convened a war council and been gone from their tent for several hours. When he returned, he was still in a black mood. She left him alone for a while, but when she finally approached him, he was staring at his golden hand with contempt, a glass of wine on the table in front of him. She realized that Ser Brynden must have mentioned his stump. Jaime would never admit it, but he was sensitive about his missing hand and whenever it was mentioned, he was generally overcome with shame.

Sansa walked over to Jaime and ran her fingers through his hair. She wasn't sure how he would receive her and was relieved when he sighed and leaned into her touch. "What happened today, Jaime?"

"There were no terms he would accept. Not from me. I suppose I should have known better. A man without honor should know better than to think that anyone would rely upon his word."

"Why do you say you are a man without honor?"

"I'm an oathbreaker, my sweet, don't you know that by now?" he said bitterly, turning to face her. "And now…I made you a promise and….I can't conceive of a way to keep it."

"What did he say to you? I know he must have said something about your hand…"

He laughed bitterly. "Yes. I offered to resolve the matter through single combat – my champion against his. I even offered to fight him myself."

"Jaime!"

"Don't worry, sweet girl, he declined my foolish offer. Even Ser Brynden wouldn't take advantage of a useless cripple. Though he was most interested in getting a look at my stump."

Sansa felt for him. Jaime was a proud man. She had learned in the few months they had been married that a good deal of his identity was tied to being the greatest swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms. And she knew how difficult it must be for him to be reminded daily that he couldn't do what he was once the best at. "What else did he say?"

"He was…most displeased about our marriage. He wanted to know how many times I've raped you." Sansa felt her anger rise as Jaime's eyes focused on the floor. "I suppose you never had much of a choice about sharing my bed. Perhaps the Blackfish was right. Perhaps it was indecent of me to take you as my wife. You were a hostage. An innocent." He took a sip of wine before putting down his cup. "It was just…you looked at me as if I was still…capable of saving someone. As if I were your hero. And you're such a pretty little thing…I suppose I needed comfort and affection as much as you did and…I couldn't resist having you. And now, I'm far too attached to give you up." He whispered the last and Sansa moved into his arms.

Sansa held him tightly and, rested her head on his shoulder. "You did save me. Jaime, no one knows how we feel about each other, except for us. Others may think they know what our marriage is about but they don't. And I certainly don't want you to give me up. I could never give you up, Jaime." Sansa sighed. "I want you to do what needs to be done."

"What do you mean?"

"End this. It's not fair of me to tie your hands – with a promise. You need to end this siege so we can leave the battlefield and go to Casterly Rock." Sansa didn't want to remain in the Riverlands. She wanted to go to what would be her new home as she waited for the arrival of their child. She had had enough of this war.

"You're certain? I can try to think of a way…"

"Do what needs to be done," she said in a whisper. Jaime kissed her and rose from the table. "Where are you going?"

"It's time I paid a visit to those gallows."

He left the tent and Sansa followed him to the entrance, peeking out and, watching Jaime purposefully walk towards his horse, no doubt to ride down to the river and take a ferry out to the Frey camp and the gallows. I hope I haven't made a mistake, unleashing Jaime on my family.

...

Atop the gallows, the Lord of Riverrun stood staring at the trap beneath him. His feet were black and caked with mud, his legs bare. Edmure wore a soiled silken tunic striped in Tully red and blue and a noose of hempen rope. At the sound of Jaime's footsteps, he raised his head. "Kingslayer?" The sight of Ser Ilyn widened his eyes. "Better a sword than a rope, I suppose. Do it, Payne."

"You heard Lord Tully. Do it," Jaime said with a smirk.

The silent knight gripped the greatsword with both hands. As Ser Ilyn drew the blade back, Edmure closed his eyes.

"No! Stop. NO!" Edwyn Frey came panting into view. "My father comes. Fast as he can. Jaime, you must…."

"My lord would suit me better, Frey," said Jaime. "And you would do well to omit the word must from any speech directed at me."

His father, Ser Ryman, came stomping up the gallows steps in company with a straw-haired whore as drunk as he was. Her gown was unlaced to the navel so her breasts were spilling out. On her head, a circlet of hammered bronze sat askew. When she saw Jaime, she laughed. "Who in seven hells is this one?"

"The Lord of Casterly Rock," Jaime returned with a cold courtesy that would make his father proud. "I might ask the same of you my lady."

"Lady? I'm no lady. I'm the queen."

"My sister will be surprised to hear that," Jaime said dryly.

"Lord Ryman crowned me his very self. I'm the queen of whores."

No, Jaime thought, my sweet sister holds that title too. Jaime turned his attention to Ryman Frey – the idiot who put Edmure Tully on the gallows every day, only to take him down every night. "Only a fool makes threats he's not prepared to carry out. For example, if I were to threaten to hit you unless you shut your mouth, and you presumed to speak, what do you think I'd do?"

"Ser, you do not unders-"

Jaime hit him. It was a backhand blow delivered with his golden hand, but the force of it sent Ser Ryman stumbling backwards into the arms of his whore. "I have done nothing –"

"But drink and whore. I know."

"I am heir to The Crossing. You can't – "

"I warned you about talking. You are dismissed ser." Jaime had had enough of the Freys and their idiocy.

"Dismissed?"

"You heard me. Go away."

"But…where should I go?"

"To hell or home to the Twins, as you prefer. See that you are not in camp when the sun comes up." Jaime turned from Ser Ryman to his son. "I am giving you your father's command. Try not to be as stupid as your sire."

"That ought not pose much difficulty, my lord," Edwyn Frey said, watching his father stumble off with his drunk whore.

Jaime nodded to Ser Ilyn who swung the sword, cutting Edmure Tully loose before turning back to Edwyn Frey. "Send word to your grandfather, Lord Walder. The crown requires all his prisoners from the Red Wedding." Jaime waived his golden hand at Edmure. "Ser Addam, bring him."

As he returned to his ferry, Jaime noticed a man holding a woodharp. "You. Singer. Come with me."

No one said a word as they walked back to the ferry, with Ser Ryman's singer trailing after them. But as they left the riverbank Edmure Tully grabbed Jaime by the arm. "Why?"

"Consider it a wedding gift."

Edmure stared at him with wary eyes. "A…wedding gift? Yours or mine?"

Jaime smiled. Truth be told, he'd always liked Edmure Tully. "I am told your wife is pretty. She'd have to be, I suppose, for you to bed her while your king was being murdered."

"I never knew." Edmure licked his cracked lips. "There were fiddlers outside the bedchamber."

"And Lady Roslin was distracting you."

"She…they made her do it. Lord Walder and the rest. Roslin never wanted…she wept, but I thought it was…"

"The sight of your manhood? Aye, that would make any woman weep, I'm sure."

"She is carrying my child."

No, Jaime thought, that's your death she has growing in her belly. Jaime knew that if Roslin birthed a son, Lord Walder would have no need to keep EdmureTully alive. He looked at Sansa's uncle. Edmure Tully clearly had affection for his wife, despite her role in the Red Wedding.

Once they reached his camp, Jaime had Edmure ushered into the tent where he had convened his war council and dismissed Ser Addam and Ser Ilyn but not the singer. "I may have need of a song shortly," he told the man. Jaime ordered bathwater heated and clean clothing for Edmure. "Are you hungry, my lord?"

Edmure nodded, but his eyes were still suspicious.

Jaime addressed Sansa's uncle once he was dressed in clean clothes and seated at the table. "Once you've eaten, my men will escort you to Riverrun. What happens then is up to you."

"What do you mean?"

"Your uncle is an old man. Valiant, yes, but the best part of his life is done. Yield the castle and no one dies. Ser Brynden will be allowed to take the black, along with as many of the garrison as choose to join him. You may as well, if the Wall appeals to you. Or you may come to Casterly Rock as my captive and enjoy all the comforts and courtesy that befits a hostage of your rank. Your wife may join you, if you like."

Edmure looked at him in surprise.

"If her child is a boy, he will serve House Lannister as a page and a squire, and when he earns his knighthood we'll bestow some lands upon him. Should Roslin give you a daughter, I'll see her well dowered when she's old enough to wed. You yourself may even be granted parole, once the war is done. All you need do is yield the castle."

"And if I do not yield?"

Must you make me say the words? "Then we will storm the castle. I will rain such hellfire on Riverrun you'll wish the Freys had gone ahead and hanged you. By the time I'm done no man will ever know a castle once stood here." Jaime got to his feet. "Your wife may give birth before the battle is done. You'll want your child, I expect. I'll send him to you when he's born. With a catapult."

Silence followed his speech. With a catapult. If his aunt had been there, would she still say Tyrion was Tywin's son?

Edmure Tully finally found his voice. "I could kill you where you stand, Kingslayer."

"You could try." Jaime waited, though Edmure made no move. "I'll leave you to enjoy your food. Singer, play for our guest. You know the song, I trust." Jaime knew what the Freys had done during the Red Wedding. That "the Rains of Castemere" had played, as a signal for the massacre to start, and had continued until King Robb was dead.

"The one about the rain?" the singer asked. "Aye, my lord. I know it."

Edmure seemed to see the man for the first time. "No. Not him. Get him away from me."

"Why? It's just a song," said Jaime. "He cannot have that bad a voice."

Jaime left the tent as "the Rains of Castamere" began to play and met Ser Addam's eyes. He no doubt heard his words to Edmure, judging by his expression. I suppose I have outdone myself. My father would be proud. "See that he's escorted to Riverrun. I'll be in my tent. Let me know when he yields the castle."

Jaime walked the short distance to his tent and saw that Sansa was still awake, waiting for him. He sat beside her on the makeshift bed, pulling off his boots. He felt her eyes on him. "Wondering if you erred in releasing me from my promise to you?"

"A little," she confessed. "What did you do?"

"I removed your uncle from the gallows and brought him back to our camp. Once he finishes eating, he'll be returned to Riverrun. I expect he'll yield the castle by daybreak."

"Why would he do that?"

"I said if he yielded he and his wife could come to Casterly Rock as my hostages. And if he did not yield…" Jaime looked at her, hating himself, before resting his head in his hand, "I'd rather not tell you what I said would happen if he did not yield. It was a bluff but…he doesn't know that and I'd prefer not to speak the words aloud again. I should be able to keep my promise to you, at least."

"Come here?" she whispered.

Jaime sat next to her, holding her in his arms, moving his hand down over her stomach. Though she was still fully clothed, he could feel the slight roundness of her womb and the babe inside her. He'd kill any man who dared speak the words about his child that he spoke about Edmure's. I couldn't think of any other way. Any other way to keep my promise to her. Any other way to get Sansa and our child safely to Casterly Rock. "I'm sorry I'm not a better man, Sansa. I'm sorry that I have to become my father's son in this war…that I've had to threaten unspeakable things."

Sansa turned in his arms, pressing her chest against his and kissing him before resting her head on his shoulder. "My father…he was a different man when he was Lord of Winterfell, than he was when he was with the family. Sometimes it was as though he wasn't the man I knew as my father, when he would go off to behead a deserter. I've always understood that…that a lord is a different man when he's running his castle or leading his men than he is with his wife. With his family. Jaime…I know that you're doing what you feel you need to, to protect me. And our child. I know that."

Jaime held her in his arms, dropping a kiss on the top of her head, and wondered if it had ever affected his father to do the things he did for House Lannister; the things he did to win wars. Somehow Jaime doubted it.

Perhaps my Aunt is right. Perhaps Tyrion is Tywin's son. Not me. He never cared about power, the way his father and Tyrion did. And he didn't have the stomach for games and lies. Jaime knew that Tyrion had made an offer to Catelyn Stark - to exchange her two daughters for Jaime's freedom – despite the fact that only one of her daughters was in Kings Landing. Jaime never would have lied that way. His father would have. Jaime turned his gaze to his little wife in his arms, cuddled against his chest with her eyes closed, her fingers gently stroking the back of his neck. He'd happily give up Casterly Rock and all the power of being a Lannister, just to have her.

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Next Chapter: Sansa meets her Uncle Edmure