Thank you, readers, for the reviews and the follows. I hope you enjoy the Jaime/Arya interaction in this chapter.

…

Chapter 38

Jaime and Arya walked the lengthy distance from the main dining room to the armory. As they walked up the long and winding path upwards to the indoor training grounds, Arya peppered him with questions about everything that they saw.

"How long did you have to practice to become the best swordsman in the Realm? How long would it take me?"

He smiled at her enthusiasm. "Sword fighting…it came easily to me. Ser Benedict Broom, the Master at Arms of the Rock, began teaching me when I was not all that much younger than you are now."

"It's not fair that girls have to learn to sew and run a household instead of how to hunt or fight." Jaime resisted telling her that Cersei had expressed a similar sentiment to him when they were children. He'd received his first sword when he was only seven years old, and Cersei had flown into a rage that he'd received a sword while she had received a doll.

"Are there any cats here?" she asked suddenly.

"Cats did you say?"

"Yes."

"You want a pet?"

"No. For me to chase." Jaime looked at her as if she were insane. "So I can practice being quick and quiet. You never did that?"

"I can't say that I ever did. I suppose there must be a cat or two running around here to keep the mice away." As Jaime and Arya stopped at the armory, Ser Benedict Broom regarded Jaime with a welcoming smile. "Lord Lannister. When they put that white cloak on you, I wondered if you would ever return to the Rock."

Jaime greeted the man fondly, patting him on the back. "It's been quite a long time," he said, happy to see the old knight. He forced himself to ignore the sympathetic look from his Master at Arms as he looked at Jaime's golden hand. I'll show him that there's no need to pity me. I'll be the best in the realm again, if it takes the rest of my life.

"I was sorry to hear about Lord Tywin's passing. Though it's fortunate that you were released from the guard to take your place as Lord of the Rock. Who do we have here?" Ser Benedict asked, gesturing to Arya.

"This is Lady Arya Stark. Do you have a suitable practice sword for my little good-sister here?"

She looked up at him in surprise. "You're going to let me fight?

"I understand your father allowed you to have lessons?"

She nodded. "When we lived in King's Landing, Syrio Forel taught me how fight as a Water Dancer." Jaime had known Syrio Forel and had seen his teaching methods. Now he understood Arya's question about chasing cats. "When Queen Cersei ordered that Sansa and I be taken as hostages, he helped me escape the Red Keep. He fought five red cloaks with only a wooden sword. They must have killed him," she said quietly. "There were six of them…though he was winning when he ordered me to leave the Keep. Sansa told me that the Queen's men killed Septa Mordane, too. When she tried to protect Sansa from them."

Jaime met Ser Benedict's eyes. He knew the Master-at-arms was no fan of Cersei. He had always thought she distracted Jaime from his sword-fighting lessons and interfered with Ser Benedict's efforts to teach him discipline. And, for her part, Cersei had always resented the old knight for taking Jaime's focus away from her. She was always trying to lure Jaime away from the practice grounds.

Jaime reached for a bundle of quivers and a bow, which he handed to Arya. Sansa had shared quite a bit about her sister with him. He could see that his little wife wanted him to get along with Arya. Since he knew it would make Sansa happy, he was willing to make the effort. "Your sister tells me that you are an excellent markswoman. Would you mind showing me?" He could see her fighting a smile at his interest in her skills. No doubt her mother wanted her to dislike him. He could only imagine what Lady Catelyn had told the child about him.

"I suppose I shoot a target for you to see," she said with a deliberately bored tone.

Once they were laden down with weapons, Jaime and Arya continued walking uphill, deep into the Rock, towards the practice grounds. The indoor grounds were built along the entire length of the side of Casterly Rock overlooking Lannisport, with large barred windows carved into the rock, flooding the grounds with light.

Ser Addam Marbrand was already there. He smiled when he noticed Jaime's companion. "Are you teaching her to fight?"

Jaime glanced at Arya, who had already started chopping away at a practice dummy. "Ned Stark allowed her to have lessons back in King's Landing. I didn't see the harm. Though Sansa looked fit to be tied that I was bringing her here."

Ser Addam chuckled as Jaime took a few practice swings through the air, loosening up his muscles. "That little red-head of yours is quite the proper lady – not at all what I would have expected from your lady wife. She is a lovely girl. She seems to care for you a great deal. I must have promised her half a dozen times during our journey here that I would not allow you to be harmed. And I daresay you're rather smitten yourself."

Jaime smiled. "Sansa is very sweet." He turned his eyes to Ser Addam. "Don't think your admiration for my lady wife will make me go any easier on you."

Truth be told, Jaime was nervous to fight Ser Addam. He'd only beaten Ser Ilyn the one time, but he believed that he was improving and that he needed to spar with different partners, if he was ever to be the warrior he once was. Though, a small part of him worried that Ser Ilyn had let him win, despite the old knight's amusement at Jaime's failures. What if I embarrass myself horribly?

Jaime and Ser Addam had sparred more times than Jaime could count – they were childhood friends and had both been trained by Ser Benedict. They began their match slowly. He knew Ser Addam was giving him a chance to build his confidence before truly challenging him. It was humbling, but he knew it was an act of friendship by Ser Addam.

As he and Ser Addam circled around one another, Jaime saw Arya perched on the viewing platform, watching them battle, her eyes lit with excitement. I remember when I found sword-fighting to be just as thrilling.

Before he lost his sword hand, Jaime could easily beat Ser Addam without so much as breaking a sweat. Now, it took all that he had – all of his skill and all of his energy – just to keep Ser Addam's sword from his throat. Never mind beating him. As difficult as it was, Jaime also found it exhilarating. Sword fighting had not been a challenge for him in years. It actually felt good to struggle and to see and feel improvement. They fought two matches, each winning one.

Ser Addam took his leave to command the soldiers according to Jaime's directions from the morning. "Thank you for the excellent match, Jaime."

"I look forward to repeating it," he said sincerely. Jaime watched as Ser Addam left and looked down at the hand he'd thought was useless. I can work with this.

"I fight with my left hand, too," he heard Arya say from her perch behind him.

Jaime smiled. "Do you? I'll have to watch your technique." He considered the child for a moment. "Would you care to practice with me?"

Despite her determination to remain distant from him, she couldn't keep the delighted smile off of her face as she scrambled down from her seat and picked up the practice sword he had given her. Jaime helped Arya a bit with her form before beginning to spar with her. He was relieved that it was not a struggle for him to maintain control of their match. His worst fear had been that the child would be able to easily best him. Though she had some skill and natural talent, Arya still had a lot to learn. She would have to rely on speed and technique, rather than brute force, since she was so small.

"Will you continue to practice with Ser Ilyn?" she asked curiously as she did a rather good job of fending off his attack.

"Who told you about that?" he asked.

"I followed Sansa the other night and saw you beat him. She told me that you've been practicing with him."

He nodded. "I have. But it doesn't appear to be necessary to practice in secret anymore. I plan to send the King's Justice back to King's Landing. I know that Sansa doesn't like his presence here." He considered the child. "I expect that you don't either."

"He killed our father," she said angrily, taking a vicious swipe at him with her sword. Good thing it's not real. "I know that you fought with my father before he died. You killed his men. They were my friends." He could see that she was emotional about the men he had killed when she looked away from him, unable to meet his eyes.

"Don't look at your feet – you'll end up stabbed in the face." She met his eyes as he advanced toward her. "I did fight with your father. And his men were killed. I'm sorry about that." He took a deep breath as he avoided a swipe at his head. "I was angry. I'm not very good at keeping my temper in check."

"Mother says I'm not either."

He could see that she was tiring. Her swings were getting sloppier. "Perhaps that's enough for today."

"Will you let me practice with you again?"

Jaime sighed. "Your sister will have my head…but I think it's relatively harmless. Don't let her think that I'm corrupting your…ladylike manners." Arya snorted. "I know you think Sansa is silly to care about doing what's proper, but it comforts her. And she believes that being a lady is what's best for you."

She nodded. "You won't let anyone hurt my sister or her baby will you?"

Jaime lowered his sword at her words. He could see that the child loved Sansa very much, despite how different they were and how much those differences irritated one another. "I love your sister. And her baby is mine, too. I'd kill anyone who dared hurt Sansa or our child. I promise you."

She seemed to accept that. "She loves you, too," Arya said quietly.

Jaime smiled, knowing that it wasn't easy for her to admit that to him. "Why don't you give the bow and arrow a try? I've never been much of an archer, and I expect that won't change now that I'm lacking a hand. But I'd like to see what you can do."

He could see that she was considering – no doubt her mother had filled her with terrible thoughts about him. "All right," she finally said, picking up the bow and quivers. Jaime stood behind, watching her. Her aim was quite good. He made a note to have Lady Alys procure some breeches and a tunic for her to wear when she was practicing with him. There's no need for the child to trip over her skirts. He hoped Sansa wouldn't be too angry with him.

Jaime had never had a little sister and never spent much time with little girls, but he was amused by Arya Stark. Sansa had told him that Arya was closer to their brothers than she was to her; and that her sister preferred running around outside, riding horses and learning to fight to sitting inside sewing. I suppose that's why she arrived dressed as a boy, with her two friends.

"If I allow you to have a real blade – larger than that Needle of yours – will you agree not to hurt anyone with it? Unless we're attacked of course," he said dryly.

He resisted smiling as her eyes lit up. "You'll really give me a sword?"

"Do we have a deal?" She nodded quickly. "Let's go down to the forge and see about your friend Gendry making a sword for you. Bring your practice sword. It seems to be a good weight for you to use."

When they entered the forge, Jaime could see that she was forcing a neutral expression on her face, but she was not doing a very good job of it. There were four smiths working – largely making weapons for the war. It seemed the chief armorer had Gendry working on a helmet – no doubt wanting to see what his new apprentice was capable of.

Her friend Gendry stood up straight when he saw Jaime enter the armory. "Lord Lannister…Lady Arya." Jaime smiled to himself at the annoyed set of her jaw when he addressed her properly.

"Gendry, I wonder if you could help me. I'd like to have a sword forged for Lady Arya here. She's brought the practice sword Ser Benedict selected for her. Perhaps you could make her one of similar size and weight?"

"Of course, m'lord."

Jaime considered Robert Baratheon's bastard for a moment before speaking to the chief armorer – the man who had made every sword Jaime had ever swung until joining the Kingsguard. It seemed the staff at the Rock had remained entirely the same since Jaime was a child. He supposed the familiarity was a comfort. Though it was also a bit unnerving to think he had simply stepped into his father's shoes.

When he walked back toward the fires to collect Arya, he saw that she was chatting with Gendry. He supposed the boy must be fond of her. If he weren't, he would certainly consider her a pest as she hovered around him, sticking her nose into everything he was working on.

"Do you want to get burned in the flames?" Gendry asked her in exasperation, taking her arm and firmly moving her away, and Jaime held back his laughter. "I'm surprised to see you spending time with Lord Lannister."

She shrugged her shoulders. "My sister asked me to try to get along with him…he is a good warrior. Even my father used to say so."

"It's all right if you like him, you know," Gendry said as he stuck whatever he was working on back in the fire. "Take three steps back," he said to Arya in exasperation, noticing she had crept closer yet again. "I'd expect a northerner to have less fondness for metal hot enough to burn."

"I don't like him," she insisted. "He's a Lannister and…they killed my family."

"He didn't kill any of them. And he's married to your sister now. He's your family."

She shrugged. "Can I come down here and visit you sometimes?"

"I suppose. If you're allowed to. Though I don't know why you would want to be down here in the soot and fire."

Jaime smiled to himself as Arya gazed at Gendry in clear admiration. He wondered how Sansa would react to her little sister's crush on the young blacksmith. "Little sister, I should return you to your mother and give Gendry the chance to work on your sword."

"Can I come back here sometimes to see my friend?"

"I don't see why not," Jaime said, stepping towards them. "Just don't let your sister find out you're prowling around down here." He saw Arya smile to herself at his indulgence of her.

….

As promised, Lady Alys had introduced Sansa to her household staff after the midwife examined her. Sansa had no idea that she would be responsible for so many people, though she should have known when she saw the size of Casterly Rock. It was a bit overwhelming. Her mother had taught her about running a household, but Sansa was a bit intimidated by the task ahead of her. The staff at Winterfell was nothing in comparison to the size of the staff at Casterly Rock.

"You'll do fine, my dear. I can see that you will make a fine Lady of Casterly Rock. Joanna…she was nervous as well, in the beginning, after she first married Lord Tywin. It is a tremendous responsibility to be Lady of the Rock. But once you get your bearings, you will do just as wonderfully as she did."

Sansa hoped she was right. At the moment, she felt as if her head was spinning. The midwife had told her that the baby should come in less than four moons. She'd arrived at that calculation after asking when Sansa had last bled and when Ser Jaime had first bedded her and how often. Sansa had been shy at first, blushing as she answered the woman's personal questions, but then she had realized this was her chance to end the mystery surrounding her pregnancy, and she had begun to pepper the midwife with questions.

"What was Jaime like when he was little?" she asked Lady Alys quietly, resting her hand on her belly.

Lady Alys smiled. "I can scarce think about Jaime without thinking of Cersei. They were so alike when they were little. Their mother couldn't even tell them apart at times; except for the obvious difference. But they would switch clothes to trick us. Of course, that all ended when Jaime began to grow into a man – tall and strong – and Cersei developed her womanly figure."

Sansa began to regret asking. She knew their relationship began while they were growing up here. She couldn't help thinking about a teenage Jaime and Cersei here together at the Rock. She knew that this was where they fell in love…unnatural and destructive as it was. And this was where they first began bedding one another.

"Lord Tywin was furious when Jaime joined the Kingsguard. Jaime was only fifteen years old and…I did wonder if he realized all that he was giving up. A woman to love. A wife. Children."

"What was Lady Joanna like? I've asked Jaime but…he doesn't remember much of her."

Lady Alys nodded sadly. "He was so young when she died. It devastated him. Cersei was always independent. Even as a small child, but Jaime…Jaime loved his mother very much. He would sit on her lap for hours in her sitting room. You wouldn't know it now, he's such a great warrior – a knight – but he enjoyed being loved and cuddled. It infuriated Lord Tywin that Joanna was coddling his heir but, he could never deny her anything. And she loved Jaime – loved holding him in her arms – so much. He was such a sweet, loving little boy."

"And then, when she died, everything changed. Jaime clung to Cersei even more than before. I expect he was seeking the affection that his mother had given him. Would you like some tea or anything?"

Sansa shook her head. "Thank you. I think…It's been a long day. I think I'll lie down for a while."

She began walking back to her suite of rooms, with several guards trailing behind her when she came upon a portrait that could only be Jaime and Cersei when they were children. She couldn't step away from it. They were so alike. Sansa never realized how much Cersei was tied to all of Jaime's childhood. There was no other woman in the world for him for almost his whole life, but Cersei.

Sansa forced herself to walk away from the painting. It would not do for Jaime's men to see the distress that it caused her. They might learn the truth about the relationship between the twins. As Sansa continued walking to her bedchamber, she couldn't help being afraid. Will I ever mean as much to Jaime as Cersei does? He's loved her for his entire life. And she's everywhere…in every corner of this castle.

Sansa thought about the night before, when Jaime had come to bed and been so upset. Because of the memories the Rock holds for him. She had thought it was because they'd been in the crypts, burying his father but…now she wondered if it was memories of Cersei that were troubling him.

Sansa ran her hand over her belly. He loves me. And he wants this baby. I know he does. She hoped that she and the baby would be able to heal Jaime. And that, in time, Jaime would come to love her as much as he'd ever loved Cersei. Sansa knew she couldn't just give up and let Cersei win. She thought about what Lady Alys said about Jaime as a child – that he was affectionate and loved to be held and cuddled before his mother died. She smiled, thinking about how surprised she had been that her brave knight of a husband allowed her to cuddled against him and hold him. It's Cersei who brought out his viciousness. He's mine now, she thought, as she entered her bedchamber.

…..

Next chapter: Edmure finally speaks to Roslin