Thanks again to all of you for reading, and for the comments and reviews. It helps motivate the writing;)

To answer one question brought up in the reviews: Sansa is almost seventeen years old and Arya is ten; Jaime is the same age as in the books, which I estimated to be 35ish.

...

Chapter 31

While Sansa tended to her sister, Jaime walked over to the area of his camp where the heavily-guarded Northmen were being held, awaiting transportation to Riverrun. He had thought about it long and hard after Sansa had fallen asleep the night before, and Jaime knew that he had to do something to secure Winterfell for her. After seeing the hostility Lady Catelyn expressed towards her daughter because of their marriage, he expected the Northern men would be even harsher to Sansa if he did not take matters well in hand.

Jaime had loved Cersei for most of his life. He'd given up everything for her, and she had never once chosen him. Cersei had never risked anything to be able to love him openly. It had never occurred to him that Sansa would do any differently. He had expected her to hide their love in the shadows to stay in her family's good graces. He had expected that he would have to love her and their child in secret – as he'd always done with Cersei. Sansa had stunned him when she refused to conceal her affection for him; when she refused to say that the child she carried was conceived in anything but love.

She was so important to him and had given him so much. He was determined to give her something in return. There was little he could do to make up for what his family had taken from her, but he could try to give her back a little bit of her past. He could give her Winterfell. It was her birthright, no matter what Robb Stark had done before his death in an attempt to prevent Sansa from inheriting. Jaime would ensure that Tommen signed the papers necessary to reinstate Sansa as Lady of Winterfell. Though he knew it would take more than a royal decree for Winterfell – and the North – to truly be hers. She would need the support of the Northern lords.

As he approached the prisoners, Jaime could feel the hatred of the Northern men who were once his captors. Truth be told, he had expected far more prisoners would be turned over to him, but it appeared that the Lord of the Crossing had massacred thousands, as only fifty men remained of all of Robb Stark's army. Jaime had been informed that they were in poor condition, many of them injured and malnourished. He had made sure their injuries were cared for and that they were fed.

"Kingslayer?" Greatjon Umber snarled at his approach. "I had hoped the next time I saw you, you'd be a tarred head decorating the Red Keep alongside your sister and your bastards."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Lord Umber. I have no intention of losing my head. Perhaps if so many of you Northerners had not been out whoring with Edmure Tully back at Riverrun, I'd still be in your custody."

"The Kingslayer may have his head," another man shouted to the others. "But the Lion is missing a paw."

The Greatjon looked at his golden hand with amusement. "What do you do with that? You certainly can't swing a sword. Only thing you were good at. That and fucking your sister." Jaime should have known this hostility would await him. If it weren't for Sansa, he wouldn't even be making the effort. They would all be rotting in Lord Walder's dungeons.

"Are you interested in returning to Walder Frey's dungeons, my lord?" Jaime asked with a raised eyebrow. "I'm certain that could be arranged if this attitude persists."

"I expect the Twins would be a bloody picnic compared King's Landing. That is where you're taking us? So you Lannisters can celebrate murdering our King in violation of the sacred guest right. Go ahead and execute us all. It won't matter. Whatever you may think, Kingslayer, the North doesn't forget. Every Northerner who survives us will remember this and will remember the treachery of the Freys and Lannisters."

"I had no part in the Robb Stark's death."

"Yet you happily take us from that traitor Walder Frey as your prisoners."

Jaime had no doubt that the northern lord spoke the truth. Walder Frey cared for nothing but himself. Should Stannis Baratheon offer him enough money, he'd hand Jaime over to him in a second. Though Jaime had no intention of taking the blame for the Red Wedding. That was his father's work, not his. "Perhaps if your king had not proven so faithless in his promises, you'd all be free right now."

"How dare you speak of our king that way!"

"Wasn't our King desecrated enough by the Freys?"

"After the treasons you have committed, Kingslayer, you would dare judge King Robb?"

The Northerners were a loyal bunch, he had to give them that. Even after their King was dead, they would likely continue to fight in his name. Which meant they could not be set free. "I don't deny Robb Stark's bravery. Nor his success in battle. It's a pity that a war won on the battlefield was lost in the bedchamber. Marrying the Westerling girl cost your king this war. And his life. Surely the lot of you knew his choice of queen was a misstep." From the set of Lord Umber's jaw, Jaime knew he was correct.

"From what I hear, King Robb was not the only Stark child to marry unwisely. We heard about your marriage to Sansa Stark. Though, I suppose she didn't have a choice in the matter. Yet another way to conquer the North, Kingslayer? Forcing Ned Stark's daughter to lie on her back for you?"

"If any of you ever disrespect my wife with such words again, Ser Ilyn will separate your heard from your shoulders. My lady wife is a Stark. No matter who she is married to, she is Ned Stark's daughter. She descends from kings. You will show her the proper respect. And you will never speak about her in such a manner again. It is Lady Sansa who you have to thank for your liberation from Walder Frey's dungeons." Jaime advanced on the Northerners. "She is heir to Winterfell. From what I understand of your Northern traditions, you are now her bannermen."

The Greatjon seemed to regret his disrespectful words about Sansa, but his hatred for Jaime did not dissipate. "King Robb removed her as his heir."

"And King Tommen will restore her. She is Lady of Winterfell. And her second son will inherit it. Do you think Ned Stark would wish to see his eldest daughter turned away from her home? Because of a marriage she did not ask for?" The men were silent, perhaps reconsidering condemning Sansa for her forced marriage to Jaime. "Robb Stark may have been angry with me – with my family – over the marriage to his sister, but that's no reason to take it out on her. To disinherit her."

"Your lady wife may be a Northerner, she may inherit Winterfell, but if you think that anyone with Lannister blood will rule the North, you're quite mistaken. That includes your children."

"My children will also be Sansa's children. They will be of the North, as she is. I have a proposal for all of you. I expect you've heard what the Ironborn did to Winterfell. That it's nothing but a ruin – burned to the ground. I plan to restore it, once the fighting is done. For my lady wife. I can't release any of you now but…once I find a suitable person to oversee the rebuilding of Winterfell, I will release those of you who are willing to assist with the rebuilding. Those of you who will bend the knee to Sansa…who will rebuild the North - may have your freedom. I don't ask you to bend the knee to me. Only to her."

Some of the men seemed interested in his offer. As well they should, as they'd likely be killed or spend a lifetime as a hostage otherwise. "Where do you send us until then?" the Greatjon asked curiously.

"The only living Starks will be at the Rock. There are two living Stark children – both Sansa and Arya Stark will be living at Casterly Rock. As will Lady Catelyn. I'll leave it to you. You can be a prisoner at Riverrun or at the Rock. At Riverrun, you'll be at the mercy of Walder Frey's son. Any of you who are not interested in traveling with me – who would prefer Riverrun - may line up over there," Jaime said, indicating his soldiers who would take any of them to Riverrun who wished to go.

Though his face betrayed nothing, Jaime worried that they would all leave and that one day, he and Sansa would be forced to fight for their son's right to rule Winterfell and the North. Mercifully, no one took Jaime up on his offer to leave. He was not such a fool as to think they stayed due to him. They stayed for Sansa and Arya; they stayed for Ned Stark and Lady Catelyn; they stayed out of loyalty to their dead King Robb. At least the Stark honor is worth something.

...

Sansa sat beside the bathtub, watching as Pia helped scrub what she suspected were months of grime off of her little sister, turning the water nearly black. Her sister had always been slight, but she seemed to be even skinnier since Sansa had last seen her. Her hair was short and scraggly and her clothes had been tattered rags which Sansa had ordered burned, over her sister's objection.

She could scarce believe that Arya was there with her. Sansa had been certain that her sister must have died, since there had been no trace of her in over a year. She had been shocked at the tears in her sister's eyes and when she fiercely embraced her. She'd never seen Arya cry. And her sister had never been close to her and had never shown her much affection. Sansa had realized during the past year that she did miss her little sister and she could scarce believe it when Arya was standing before her. Of course, their reunion had only been emotional for a few moments before her little sister was her usual improper, willful self.

She reached for her sister's hand, a nail brush in her other hand. "What's that for?" Arya asked as Sansa scrubbed at her fingertips.

"That's for the filth under your fingernails," Sansa said in disgust. "Have you been digging in the mud with your bare hands?"

Arya looked at her in annoyance before pulling her hand away. "You don't need to scrub under my nails. It will just get dirty again. You don't braid your hair like the queen anymore," Arya said, looking at her sister.

She shook her head. "I don't like it that way." Once Jaime returned to the capitol, Sansa had abandoned all efforts to look like the queen. She came to despise the elaborate braids that Cersei preferred and encouraged her to wear as Joffrey's betrothed. Instead, Sansa wore her hair down, as she did in Winterfell, with only a few long braids, or a headband, to hold her hair out of her face. Jaime had noticed and given her several headbands – one wrapped in gold and silver ribbons, and another with polished moonstones forming clusters of flowers. He never said anything. They had simply appeared in the drawers of her dressing table.

Sansa thought about when she and Arya were last together – when their last words were words of anger. She was ashamed of herself for failing to stand up for her sister against Joffrey and the Queen. She knew that Lady's death was her punishment – though it was not intended that way. The last days she spent with her father and sister had haunted her for the past year. Sansa hated herself when she thought about how ridiculous she had been as Joffrey's betrothed. How horrible she had been to her family.

"I'm sorry," Sansa mumbled quietly once Pia left the tent to find clothing small enough to fit Arya. Some of Jaime's men were returning to Casterly Rock with their families in tow, and Pia believed she could find clothing for her among the children's belongings. "I'm sorry for Joffrey. I'm sorry that I didn't side with you when he accused you and Nymeria of attacking him. I was stupid. I just wanted to be queen and…I should not have turned my back on my family. I was blind to how terrible he was then. I'm not now."

"Did Joffrey hurt you?" Arya asked quietly.

"Yes." She couldn't bring herself to tell Arya what he'd done to her – how he'd beaten and humiliated her. "At least I didn't marry him," she whispered. "There is that blessing."

"But you're married to the Kingslayer." Arya said in disgust. "Is that any better?"

"Don't call him Kingslayer. His name is Ser Jaime. He's not like the other Lannisters. He's never hurt me."

"But he's Joffrey's father. Don't you think he got his cruelty from him?"

Sansa looked around to make sure they were alone and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Jaime was never a father him. King Robert was. Joffrey was more like Cersei than anyone else. Jaime saw what a monster he was before he died."

"Was it wonderful when he died?" Arya asked.

Sansa glanced around nervously. "It was tragic for the king to die and to suffer such an agonizing death. You can't allow anyone to hear you speak treason." Arya nodded, realizing that they were surrounded by thousands of Lannister soldiers. They could report back to the queen regent. "Did anyone hurt you, Arya? While you were alone, looking for your family?" Sansa asked hesitantly.

She shook her head. "I learned to protect myself." Arya looked around the tent to make certain they were alone before she spoke again. "I could kill the Kingslayer for you," she whispered. "I know how."

"What do you mean, you know how? Have you killed someone?"

"Only when I had to."

Sansa's eyes widened. "You'll not hurt Jaime. Promise me."

"I promise," she said reluctantly. "You like being married to him, don't you?"

She looked down at her hands, afraid to have this conversation with Arya. Sansa was afraid that she would react as their mother had – with anger at Sansa for loving an enemy of House Stark. Arya was to live at Casterly Rock, as was their mother. Sansa had no desire to have yet another family member living under the same roof and hating her. She wanted to tell her sister that she was with child, but she was afraid. Sansa wanted her child to be loved, not hated. She was spared from having to answer by Pia returning with clothing for Arya.

Sansa heard Jaime enter their tent and walked around the privacy screen to speak to him, while Pia helped Arya dry off and dress. Her husband was bare-chested, changing into a clean tunic for their day's journey. She walked up behind him and ran her hands over his back. He turned to face her and let her lace up his tunic and work the buttons on his surecoat. "Thank you," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest.

"She's your sister. Of course I would bring her with us."

"But you don't have to. And you didn't have to allow her friends to come along." She tilted her head up to look at him. "Your sister will be angry if she learns that Gendry lives, and that you are hiding him from her."

"Then I'll have to take care that she doesn't find out. I'm going to bring the prisoners from the Red Wedding – the survivors – with us to Casterly Rock."

"Why?"

Jaime gently stroked her hair. "Winterfell…it would be difficult to hold the North with no support from the Lords of the North."

"Especially since my mother has disowned me," she said quietly, breaking his gaze.

"Winterfell is rightfully yours, Sansa. And I will make sure that no one can deny it to you." He smiled to himself. "How is your sister? I could have told her how much you mislike people speaking about cocks." Even as she glared at his word choice, Jaime moved his mouth to her ear. "Though you do enjoy having mine inside you," he whispered with a smirk.

She shoved him. "You shouldn't say such things," she hissed.

Jaime chuckled. "You and Arya seem…different from one another."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "We never have gotten along all that well. Arya always wanted to be with our brothers - hunting or practicing with a sword. Mother would force her to have sewing and dancing lessons with me, with Septa Mordane, but she was never very good at it and…" Sansa trailed off with a shrug. She couldn't help thinking that Arya must wish that one of their brothers was alive, rather than Sansa, though she'd never voice that thought aloud to Jaime. "I suppose…I suppose the person I was closest to in my family was…my mother."

He kissed the top of her head, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Sansa tilted her head up to meet his eyes. "Must you provoke her?"

"Your mother?"

She sighed. "Arya."

"How do I provoke her?"

"Little sister?" she asked with a smile.

"I'll try to do better," he said with mock seriousness. She smiled despite herself. Even when he infuriated her, she couldn't stop herself from admiring him. He was so kind to her, and so generous. Though he was very quiet about giving her gifts. Little baubles would just appear. Including the ruby ring she wore, which appeared on her finger when she awoke one morning.

She ran her fingers over his hair, smoothing it down. Jaime cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her. "I love you," she whispered between kisses.

"I do not want to wear this," Arya said, stomping into the room and Sansa immediately blushed and stopped kissing Jaime. She could see that her sister was shocked to see her in Jaime's arms. "Are you going to do that a lot?" she asked in disgust.

"Do what?" Sansa asked.

"Kiss him."

"Quite a lot. You best get used to the sight," Jaime said over her shoulder and Sansa raised her eyes heavenward, not sure how she was going to deal with the two of them and the many squabbles she anticipated. She knew full well that Jaime would not be able to resist teasing Arya.

Mercifully, Arya let the subject of their kissing go and looked at Sansa with a long-suffering expression. "The dress?"

"You're wearing the dress," she ground out, walking toward her little sister and picking at the ends of her short hair. There was little she could do with Arya's hair, short as it was. Sansa had suggested a ribbon wrapped around her head, and thought her sister would strike her dead. She supposed she should consider the fact that Pia even got the dress on her to be a victory.

"It's easier to ride wearing breeches."

"Well, you're not riding," Jaime said in annoyance. "You'll travel with your sister in her carriage," Jaime said, walking out of the tent. Arya trotted after him, making her case for a horse, and Sansa slowly followed them.

"Why can't I have a horse?" she asked Jaime.

He sighed. "You're a little girl. You should ride in a carriage with your sister."

"I hate carriages. I want a horse. I won't run away, I promise."

"Just put her on a horse," Sansa said. "It's not worth arguing with her."

Jaime looked at the soldier beside him. "Find her a horse. A slow one, preferably."

"I want to see my mother," Arya said, turning to Jaime.

"You're quite welcome for the horse," he said peevishly. "And you'll not see your mother just yet."

"Why not?"

"Here's what I will do for you, little sister," Sansa watched Arya's eyes narrow at his calling her "little sister." She could see her request that he not provoke her sister had done wonders. "You behave yourself as we travel to Casterly Rock and then, when you've proven to me that you can be trusted, I will allow you to see your mother. Do we have an agreement?"

Arya nodded.

As they waited for Arya's horse, Pia appeared beside Jaime, asking to speak to him. He took her aside and returned moments later with a small, narrow sword. "What is this?" he asked Arya.

"That's mine!" she shouted. "My brother Jon gave that to me."

"I understand it was hidden in the lining of your coat. You weren't planning to harm anyone here, were you?"

"No," she said in a small voice. "You're not going to take it, are you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You think I'm going to arm you?"

"I promise only to use it if we are attacked. Please."

Sansa was astonished to see that Jaime was going to relent. "You're going to let her carry that on her hip?"

"I can always use another soldier." Sansa gave him a long-suffering look. "She won't hurt anyone with it. Will you?" he asked, turning to Arya.

"I won't. I promise."

He handed the sword to her. "Does it have a name?"

Sansa could see that Arya wanted to smile, but was refusing to show that she liked Jaime, even a little bit. "Needle."

"Needle?"

"Sansa has her needles…for sewing. This one is mine."

Jaime chuckled to himself, turning as his man walked back with a horse Sansa assumed was for her sister. "If you even look as if you're trying to run off, you're small enough for me to bind and gag and throw over the back of my horse for entire trip to the Rock, do you understand me? And Needle, will spend the rest of our trip in a trunk should you abuse my trust in you. From what I've seen, it appears your sister would heartily approve of both such actions."

Sansa forced herself not to smile at Jaime's threats as Arya took the reins of the horse and muttered what sounded like her promise not to run. Jaime walked toward her as Arya got acquainted with her horse.

"Are you agreeable to Lady Roslin sharing your carriage? Your Uncle Edmure is…reluctant to see her and, I gave my word she would not be treated as a prisoner."

"I'm sure we shall get along fine." Sansa was curious about Lady Roslin. Jaime had explained to her that she had been a reluctant participant in the Red Wedding; that she seemed quite remorseful for what her family had done, so Sansa was willing to give her a chance.

Jaime lowered his voice. "The both of you are with child, so you have that to chat about, if nothing else." She nodded. "Your mother will ride in a separate carriage we've borrowed from the Freys. I had thought …" He trailed off and Sansa knew what he was going to say. That he had planned for her mother to share her carriage until yesterday.

It must have shown on her face that she was thinking about her mother's words to her. You are not my daughter. "Are you all right, Sansa?" he whispered. "I didn't get the chance to speak to you this morning, what with your sister turning up as she did and…you drifted right off to sleep last night after we-"

She clasped her hand over his mouth, fearful of what he was going to say about their activities in bed the night before. He smiled beneath her hand. "I'll be all right," she said, allowing Jaime to take her into his arms.

"You always have me. And now your sister…charming as she is."

Sansa smiled. "She offered to kill you for me." He raised an eyebrow. "And now you've given her a weapon." She laughed at his expression. "I told her that it wasn't necessary. That I was quite content to have you as my husband." He met her eyes as she brushed a wayward strand of hair off his forehead.

"Just content?" he asked, leaning towards her and resting a hand on her waist.

"You're not going to kiss are you?" Arya asked in disgust.

Before Sansa could respond, Jaime covered her lips with his own, kissing her more passionately than was proper in public. "Yes," he said, smirking at Arya, who appeared disgusted by his display.

"Was that really necessary?" Sansa whispered, embarrassed by her little sister seeing such a passionate kiss between them. Jaime only smirked at her in response.

"Can I ride beside Gendry?" Arya asked.

Jaime signaled for one of his men to come over. "Let her ride next to her friend. But bring her to me if it even appears that she is trying to escape." As Arya mounted her horse, a light snow began to fall. Jaime looked up in surprise. "It never snows this far south."

"Winter is coming," Sansa whispered quietly. Jaime and Arya both heard her and she noticed the smile on Arya's face as she looked up at the sky, catching a few flakes on her tongue.

"We'll be at Casterly Rock soon," Jaime said, helping her into her carriage and leaning in for one more kiss. "We'll be home soon."

"Home," Sansa said with a nod as she leaned back against her seat and rubbed her hand over her belly. "We're going home," she whispered to the child inside her.

...

Hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think.

Next Chapter: Arya is reunited with her mother