I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays. Thank you all for reading and reviewing - it helps motivate me to update regularly :)

I know there wasn't a lengthy conversation between Roslin and Edmure in the last chapter, but that's because the story is not from either of their points of view, and Sansa can only lurk in the doorway for so long, but there's more of what Edmure is thinking in this chapter.

Also, I'm a bit hesitant about how dark Arya's actions are in this chapter, but I do think it is consistent with the direction her character has taken in the novels (and on the show).

…

Chapter 40

Sansa and Arya were sitting across from each other, breaking their fast in relative quiet. Jaime was not yet dining with them this morning, as his steward had called him away on urgent business the moment he and Sansa had walked downstairs. For the past few weeks, Arya had taken to breaking her fast with Jaime and Sansa before training with Jaime for several hours each morning. Sansa couldn't help wondering what her mother thought about Arya spending so much time with Jaime. She was already furious about his marriage to Sansa.

She looked up and smiled as she heard her husband enter the dining area. Her smile faded when she saw the expression on his face. "What's the matter, Jaime?"

"Ser Ilyn Payne was found dead this morning when his escort back to King's Landing went to wake him. Stabbed through the heart with a rather narrow blade."

Sansa's eyes flew to Arya, who continued eating as if Jaime had not spoken a word. Oh gods, my sister little sister is a killer. Jaime's going to have to lock her in the dungeons with the Northern lords. "What did you do?" Sansa hissed at her.

"Nothing," she said, quite unconvincingly.

"Don't lie to me. You said that you had a list. You said you wished Jaime would kill Ser Ilyn."

"You wished for that, too," Arya said fiercely. "He killed father…right in front of you. Yoren turned my head away so I wouldn't see, but I heard you screaming."

Sansa felt tears form in her eyes as Jaime sat down at the head of the table, between the two sisters. He rested his hand on top of Sansa's before turning to Arya. "What's this list you have?"

"Yoren, the man who was taking me to the wall…he said that it's important to remember who your enemies are. So, I have a list of names I say every night before I go to bed. So I won't forget."

"A list of people to kill?" Arya was silent and wouldn't meet Jaime's gaze. "Who's on the list?"

Sansa watched her little sister continue to stare down at her plate defiantly. "Answer him, Arya."

"The Hound, Ser Ilyn, King Joffrey, Queen Cersei, the Mountain, Polliver, Raff the Sweetling." Sansa knew her eyes must be wide as saucers. She looked away from her sister and turned to Jaime. She could see that Jaime had no doubt that Arya had killed the King's Justice. Cersei will kill her for this. It's treason.

"Arya," he began.

"I was protecting my family."

"No. You were getting revenge for your family. That's not the same. I suppose I'm fortunate that you've warmed to me," Jaime said dryly as Arya smirked to herself. "I know you think you were doing what you thought would help your family. But…when you act on impulse, even with the best of intentions, you sometimes do things that you later come to regret."

Arya merely stared down at her plate, but Sansa could see that she was listening to Jaime's words. "Arya, I've done things that I thought were right – in the heat of the moment – but I later came to realize that they weren't. These things…it is a tremendous burden to carry. No matter the reason why you did this – you've taken a life." He looked at Arya closely. "You cannot do this again. You will not do this again."

Arya looked down, her chin wavering. "I know," she whispered.

Sansa was surprised to see the compassion and concern in Jaime's eyes as he addressed her bratty little sister. "Are you all right?"

She nodded slowly, though Sansa could see she was near tears. "Can we go practice?"

He sighed. "Go change your clothes and come back." He watched as she ran off.

"You're still going to let her…fight? You should take that sword away from her. She's…a murderer," she finished with a whisper.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "And your husband is a Kingslayer." Sansa glared at him. "She won't do it again."

"How do you know?"

"She didn't like it. She doesn't like to kill. Not like I did." Sansa looked at him warily. "She's scared and … traumatized by it. She won't seek revenge again. I'll have to send word to King's Landing that the King's Justice has died."

"Will you tell Cersei that Arya…" Sansa couldn't finish her question.

Jaime shook his head. "No. I haven't even sent word that we've located your sister. If Cersei knew, and heard what she'd done…she'd want her brutally punished. She wanted me to cut off her hand after that incident with Joffrey and the wolf." Sansa could well believe it after she'd insisted on having Lady killed when Nymeria couldn't be found.

"Thank you, Jaime. For protecting her. Despite how…monstrous she's….I never thought she had it in her to...kill someone. She's only a little girl." He leaned over and kissed her before reaching for a bite to eat. "Jaime? What did you mean, when you said you liked to kill?"

"Killing, fighting…it made me feel alive. There were times when nothing could make me feel better than spilling blood. You can see it, on any battlefield. There are those men who are craven, who try to stay out of the battle. Then, there are those who were merely doing what was necessary – fighting for their liege lord. Then…there are those who enjoying spilling blood. Who seek it out – who run to the vanguard. That was me. It made me feel alive – to kill. Your sister, I could see, was disturbed by what she did. Revenge didn't bring her the pleasure she thought it would. Not as it would have brought me." He looked at her carefully. "I'm afraid you've married yourself a killer, sweet girl."

"Most men are killers," she said softly.

"What was that?"

"The Hound…he told me that most men are killers. That my father was a killer. The knights I admired as a child were killers. He said that the world was built by killers. I suppose he was right."

"When did he tell you that?"

"During the Battle of Blackwater. Before he fled. He was waiting for me in my bedchamber and…he said he would take me with him. That he would take me home. To the North."

"Why was he in your bedchamber?"

She smiled faintly at Jaime. "There's no need to be jealous."

"I'm not. Not yet," he said with a smirk.

Sansa looked down at the table. "He always…watched me when I was in the capitol. I was afraid to leave with him, when he offered. I…I thought that he might…" her voice trailed off.

"You thought he would rape you?" Sansa looked up at Jaime and saw that she had his full attention. "Did he touch you?"

She nodded. "It wasn't…how you mean but…it wasn't proper. I saw the want…the need in his eyes. I know he was frightened of the flames and...looking for something that would bring him comfort." She shrugged. "He was the only one of Joffrey's guards who never hit me. Who never beat me for Joffrey."

"But he didn't stop them either."

She shook her head. "No, he didn't. He watched and I could see the lust in his eyes. As he looked at my body." She didn't like to think about her time in the capitol. She felt Jaime take her hand and kiss it.

"That's in the past, Sansa. None of them can hurt you now." She knew that he was trying to soothe her; to make her forget her many traumas in the Red Keep.

She smiled faintly. "The past is all around us sometimes…both of us," she said in a faint voice. She looked at him and could see the question in his eyes. "When you were talking to Arya…about things you've done…you were speaking about things you've done because of…the queen?"

She could have sworn he looked fearful for a moment. "Yes," he whispered. He spoke to her in a low voice. "The things I did to conceal our relationship…those who were hurt to protect her…I've always regretted those things. I wasn't ashamed of loving her but, I was always ashamed of the things I did to conceal it." Jaime looked at her, and she could see that he expected her to ask what he'd done. But she had no intention of asking. She didn't wish to know. When it became clear to Jaime that she wasn't going to ask, he continued on. "I blindly did anything necessary. Anything Cersei wanted or needed." He sighed. "That's over now."

Sansa could see that he was troubled by something - something he had done at Cersei's request. She knew that he wanted to tell her about the things he'd done for Cersei - to protect their secret - but she sincerely did not wish to hear. Sansa rubbed her hand over her belly as she sipped her tea. Our future is all that matters. Not the past.

…..

Sansa spent the morning giving the staff further instructions about gathering and preparing supplies for the long winter ahead. As she made her way to her sitting room, she saw her uncle standing in the library, gazing out the window. She motioned for her guards to wait for her, as she went inside to speak to him. He had a troubled expression on his face, from what Sansa could see.

Roslin had told Sansa that she and Edmure had not spoken much of the Red Wedding. He had made a point of visiting with Roslin every day, only ever asking after her health and the health of the babe. Sometimes they would talk about what to name the child. Roslin didn't know if Edmure wanted to forgive her and she was too uncertain to ask him herself. Sansa had seen them together a few times, and while she could see that Edmure liked her very much, she could also see that he was hesitant about their relationship – that he was deliberately holding back from her.

"Uncle?" she said quietly.

He turned and regarded her with a soft smile, that so reminded her of her brother she wanted to weep. "You have the same look your mother does when something's on her mind." Sansa smiled faintly. "I look at you, and see the big sister I always confided in…until she went North to be Lady of Winterfell."

"Are you all right, Uncle? You seem…you seem troubled."

He nodded, sinking into one of the large leather chairs in front of the fireplace. "I'm well, Sansa. And I suppose I'm also troubled."

"I see that you care for Lady Roslin," she began gently. "But I know you still keep your distance from her…that you shield your heart from her." He looked at her in surprise, as she sat in the chair opposite him. "That is…that's what I did with Jaime for a time…I loved him but I was afraid to believe that he could love me back. So, I kept him at a distance."

"You certainly don't do that now."

She smiled and shook her head. "I know he loves me. And I've decided that I can't allow his past to spoil what's between us."

"His past? Do you mean slaying the mad king or the bastards he fathered on his sister?"

Sansa looked down at her hands before addressing him again. She would never speak of Jaime's relationship with the queen, knowing that it could very well result in his execution. "I know that Jaime did many things…before he and I were married that are considered dishonorable. But that does not mean that he is dishonorable. If you truly love someone…you can forgive them anything. I truly believe that."

"I don't know if I can forget…the circumstances of our marriage. I don't know if I can forget what was happening as our child was conceived," he whispered. "To think that while your brother was being brutally murdered I was…" he trailed off, unable to finish his thought.

"Does my mother…does she urge you to treat Roslin as she wishes I would treat Jaime? As she treats me?"

He sighed. "I've not mentioned Roslin to your lady mother. I suppose I am a coward."

"You do know that if Roslin could change what happened…"

"I do," he said. "How have you been able to forgive him? To forget all that he's done?"

"I know that Jaime loves me. And I know that he would never do anything to harm me. I couldn't bear to be without him." She leaned forward and hesitantly touched his hand. "Do you wish to have Roslin? To be a family with her and your child?" He nodded. She could barely see the movement, but he nodded. "Then…you have to leave the past where it belongs."

She patted his hand and stood to leave him, but he held onto her hand and rose, embracing her in his arms. "Thank you, Sansa." She closed her eyes, remembering the last time she saw her brother Robb, when he hugged her goodbye as she left Winterfell for the last time.

….

Arya slashed toward Jaime, effectively using her speed and the footwork that Jaime had taught her in the past weeks. When they had started training together, she'd tried to use force, but eventually she had listened to him when he told her that she'd never win against a grown man based on strength. He knew that Sansa was disturbed by the revenge her sister had taken against Ser Ilyn – and he was as well – but Jaime could see that the child would not commit another act of violence.

"Do you remember the first person you killed?" Arya asked.

"I do. I was just fifteen and still a squire. It was one of the Brotherhood. I cut his head off. You never forget the first." He lowered his sword and stood beside Arya, reaching for her forearm and showing her how she should hold her sword against an opponent much taller than she. "And I suppose now you won't either."

"Ser Ilyn wasn't the first person I've killed."

Jaime looked at her in surprise. "Who was?"

She looked down, swinging her practice sword at the ground. "After Syrio made me leave the Tower of the Hand…I escaped to where our carriages were being loaded to return to Winterfell. My trunk had fallen…all of my father's men were dead. I opened my trunk and found Needle. I had it hidden inside, wrapped in my clothes. A stable boy came up behind me and…I told him to leave me alone but he was going to take me to the queen." The child had stopped swinging her sword, and merely held it in a death grip before looking up at Jaime and he could see that her eyes were wet with tears. "I didn't mean to stab him."

Jaime hesitantly squeezed her shoulder in comfort, fully expecting her to shake off his touch, but she didn't. "You did what you had to do to survive. That was self-defense. But…Arya…vengeance is very different."

"But Ser Ilyn…" she looked up at him fearfully, "He killed my father. He deserved to die. I thought…I thought it was the right thing to do. Like when my father would execute deserters from the Night's Watch. I thought it would make me feel better. That it would stop hurting that father was dead."

"But it hasn't?"

She shook her head. "I promise…I won't again. I won't…I won't say the names anymore."

He could see that she was sincere and decided to distract her from her disturbance. "Are you ready to try out those new moves I've taught you?"

She nodded, raising her sword once again. They sparred for some time, and it seemed she was over her regrets for the two she had killed. He supposed children were easily distracted, though she'd likely have nightmares about it.

He noticed Gendry stood against one wall watching them. He was holding a small sword in his hand, which Jaime knew must be the sword he'd made for Arya, at Jaime's request. He continued sparring with her for a few moments, before they changed positions and she saw Gendry watching. Jaime was able to take advantage of her distraction and knock the practice sword from her hands.

"Yield," she said sullenly, pushing his sword from her throat. "Is that my sword?" she asked in excitement, hurrying toward Gendry, and wrenching it from his hand before he could answer her. Jaime watched as she began swinging it through the air, testing the weight.

"Remember it's real," Jaime said, stepping out of her path.

"I think I managed to match the weight of the practice sword she's been using, m'lord," Gendry said quietly. He is awfully reserved. His manner is nothing like Robert.

"She appears to like it. Easy there, little sister," he called out as she began surging towards a practice dummy.

She turned and scowled at him. "I told you not to call me that."

"I'm merely calling you what you are," he said with a smirk, as he walked towards her. He pulled a practice dummy out into the open. "Give the sword a try on that. Use the new tactics you learned. Try not to be distracted by your friend," he whispered.

He watched her test out her sword and it appeared the weight of it was good for her. "I believe this will work, Gendry. May I see it?" he asked, holding his hand out to Arya. She gave him the sword and went to speak to her friend. Jaime turned the sword over in his hand. "You've done excellent work here," Jaime said.

"Thank you, m'lord. I should return to the forge, if there's nothing else. The master armorer has much for us to do."

"Bye, Gendry," Arya said, watching as her friend walked away.

Jaime chuckled at her obvious disappointment that young Gendry wasn't staying on the practice grounds longer. "He's a bit old for you...at least, until you yourself get a bit older."

She turned and glared at him. "You're a lot older than Sansa. She's only sixteen and you're almost as old as our father was."

He supposed he couldn't argue with her about that. He knew Sansa didn't see him as a father, per se, but she did seem to appreciate the protection and comfort of an older man. "Yes, little sister, I suppose I am robbing the cradle, as they say, but you're nine years old." She looked down at the sword in her hand. "Gendry seems fond of you, though. And I know your sister is glad that you found someone to take care of you and be your friend. She was all alone and scared and…she didn't want that for you."

She nodded. "Sansa's not alone anymore. She has you."

"And she has her little sister back." Arya smiled at his words. "Try not to do anything else to horrify her, all right? At least not until after the baby comes." She nodded and jumped up to test out her new sword against a dummy. Jaime sat and watched her, wondering what his child with Sansa would be like – if the child would be as stubborn and headstrong as Arya Stark.

….

Let me know your thoughts. While today, we would be horrified at a child Arya's age killing someone, in the Westeros universe, during a time of war, it doesn't seem to be all that unusual…I think ;)

Next Chapter: Jaime and Catelyn discuss his past in King's Landing