Chapter 42

Jaime returned to his chamber after spending the morning training Arya and found Sansa asleep in their bed. She napped quite a lot now that she was further along in her pregnancy. She must have returned to their bed after breakfast. She was still asleep when he finished bathing, and he sat on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful, curled up around his pillow, with one of her hands protectively curved over her belly. He doubted he could ever look as peaceful and innocent as his little wife did, still in her clothes, but snuggled beneath the furs covering their bed.

They had been living at Casterly Rock for more than three weeks, and she seemed to be settling in at her new home. Cersei had said that Sansa was stupid, but his little wife had proven quite the opposite to be true. Henryk, his father's old steward – now Jaime's – was quite impressed with the new Lady Lannister. He had told Jaime that she was a quick learner and that she reminded him very much of Lady Joanna, both in her temperament and in how she ran the castle. Jaime could not deny that his father had chosen rather well in selecting his bride. Sansa was already running the household almost all on her own and overseeing the acquisition of enough provisions to last what all feared would be a long and brutal winter.

Jaime had been just a boy during the last Winter. And he, Cersei and Tyrion had spent all of it hidden away inside the Rock. It was one of the benefits of living a life of privilege. Sansa had been no more than a babe in arms during the last Winter, and had no memory of it. Though, she knew a true winter would be nothing like the summer snows of her childhood which turned the North into an icy wonderland which she told him were so beautiful they would make her cry.

Both knew full well that scores of people died each winter – both from freezing and starvation – so he was grateful that Sansa and their babe would be safe inside the Rock, where they would be warm and have food to eat.

He'd received a troubling letter from his uncle, Ser Kevan, in the capitol. Cersei was losing all control – both of herself and of the Realm. For someone who had been so eager and insistent upon ruling, she was completely unfit to do so. She'd allowed far too much power to the Faith, and her refusal to honor the debts of the crown was causing economic unrest throughout the realm. Jaime knew he was right to have taken so many soldiers with him when he left King's Landing. Though there tended to be little movement of armies during winter, he'd be able to keep Sansa safe in the unlikely event of unrest.

Cersei always liked to think of herself as Lord Tywin with teats, but she was wrong. Jaime couldn't help thinking that their father had been as relentless and implacable as a glacier, where Cersei was all wildfire, especially when thwarted. While his sister did not lack for wits, she had no judgment, and no patience. Jaime had noticed, when he returned to King's Landing, that she had developed a serious paranoia that enemies were surrounding her, ready to steal her power at any moment.

It pained Jaime to think about the way that being Robert's Queen – and then the unfettered power of being Queen Regent over Joffrey and Tommen - had changed her. Cersei had always been the dominant twin – everywhere except in bed – but Jaime had not cared. He knew she longed for power, and liked few people, but he had never before seen the depth of her hatred for Tyrion nor her cruelty toward those she viewed as a threat to her quest for power. Though, perhaps he wasn't really looking.

Jaime supposed, from the moment Joffrey was born, she had been consumed with thoughts of power – obsessed with the day she could put her son on the throne, and rule through him. Cersei's ambition was for Ser Kevan to deal with now. Jaime returned his gaze to his sleeping wife. I can't worry about Cersei and her crazy schemes. I can't save her from herself. Sansa is my responsibility now.

Sansa began to stir and Jaime moved closer, stroking her hair as she lazily opened her eyes. She smiled, leaning into his touch. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A few hours. Did you come up here right after breakfast?"

She nodded. "I spoke briefly with Lady Alys about the preparations for winter and then came back up here. I only intended to close my eyes for a few moments…" she said sheepishly.

Jaime chuckled. "You have every reason to be tired…you're well otherwise?"

She nodded. "Don't worry. The little one and I are both fine." He ran his fingers through her hair, looking at her affectionately.

"It's my duty, as your lord husband, to worry about your health and your comfort."

She sat up and moved towards him, cuddling against his bare chest and tilting her chin up to kiss him. "You smell good. All fresh and clean. You smell like home." He'd used some of her pine scented soap, knowing she liked it. "Is my sister behaving herself after…" she trailing off, unwilling to speak the words.

Jaime knew Sansa was still disturbed by her little sister having killed Ser Ilyn Payne. Jaime had written to King's Landing to say that the King's Justice had passed in his sleep, and that his remains would be sent with the silent sisters to his childhood home to be buried. It had actually been the recommendation of his steward, Henryk, that no one know the true manner of Ser Ilyn's death. Not that Lady Alys's husband knew who was to blame. Rather, he felt it best that the remaining soldiers not know there was a traitor within their ranks.

Jaime wrapped his arm around Sansa as her fingers gently trailed over his chest. "Arya hasn't done anything else improper…that I'm aware of. Though…one of her guards tells me that he heard her crying the other night. Nightmares. I spoke to her about it…" He trailed up and looked at her, feeling guilty. "I know I'm not her father or her brother. It may not have been proper-"

"You are her brother now," Sansa assured him. "Now that we are married."

"Don't tell her that."

"I didn't say to call her 'little sister.' As much as it delights your perverse idea of humor." Jaime chuckled as Sansa leaned further into his arms, resting his hand on her belly.

"She did tell me the other day that I'm rather old to be your husband."

Sansa rolled her eyes and rested her hand on the back of his neck as she spoke. "I was afraid, at first, when Cersei said we were to marry. Because I didn't know you and…you are much older and…I was afraid you might hurt me. But, you were very kind to me and…I learned there was no reason to fear you."

"Though I am old enough to be your father," he murmured, kissing her nose. "A man of thirty five sleeping with a girl just shy of seventeen. I suppose it's not unusual in a political marriage."

Sansa sat up on her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I suppose, I always did admire lithe, beautiful boys before," she said, blushing heavily, "but then…I really looked at you and…you're so handsome. When I first…when we were first together and…" Jaime smiled as she fumbled over her words. "The first time I saw you –"

"Naked?" he asked with a smirk.

She nodded, blushing. "You're so golden and beautiful and strong," her eyes were roaming over him and the gleam in her eye made his body stir.

He kissed her softly before setting her on the bed and standing, while he was still able to walk away from her. "Trying to lure me back into bed? This pregnancy has made you rather shameless in your pursuit of physical pleasure."

She glared at him as he walked towards his closet, stripping off his towel and turning to see her gaze on him. "I know how much you enjoy looking at me," he said with a smirk.

"And Jaime," she went on as he dressed, "you don't treat me as a silly little girl…the way a man of your age might. I do feel that you respect me as your wife. That I am…Lady of this castle."

"You are. Henryk would agree that a woman twice your age could not oversee it better and the staff has many complimentary things to say about you." She smiled, accepting his praise of her with pleasure. He often complimented her beauty and her sweetness. It seemed she also appreciated his compliments for her more practical qualities. "Put on your warmest cape – perhaps two."

"Why?"

"Indulge me."

…..

Sansa held tight to Jaime's hand as he led her through Casterly Rock. He could see that she was curious about what they were going to do, but she didn't press him for details – merely dressing warmly as he had asked and allowing it to be a surprise. He escorted her away from the residence portion of the Rock, and up a long flight of stairs and through torch-lit hallways to a large elevator deep inside the Rock. The elevator car was lifted through a complex winch system, cranked by the soldiers who would wait below.

Sansa looked at it hesitantly as two soldiers opened the large metal door. "You're quite safe, Sansa. Tyrion and I have ridden in it hundreds of times." Cersei had always hated the lift and usually refused to accompany Jaime to the top.

Jaime imagined that Sansa had never seen anything like the massive elevator before her – though Tyrion had described it to her before, when he'd told her about his trip to the Wall with Jon Snow. Apparently there was a larger one, though very similar to what was before her, at Castle Black, to take men to the top of the Wall. She cautiously stepped into the large metal cage, and Jaime followed after her. She clung to his arm nervously once the door closed, and the soldiers began turning the massive wheels of the winch that raised the elevator.

She leaned forward slightly, looking through the open cage, down to the bottom of the elevator shaft before quickly moving back. "The trick is not to look down," he said with a smile.

She nodded, holding him even more securely. "Are we going to the top of the Rock?"

"Perhaps," he said with a smile. Sansa smiled in excitement when the lift came to a stop. "Here we are." There were snow flurries kicking up as Jaime opened the doors to the lift. He watched as Sansa looked up at the snow, a smile on her face as the flakes landed on her hair. He shivered as the cold hit him and he escorted Sansa out to look out over the battlements. "You can look far across the Sunset Sea if you're on this side of the Rock and all of Lannisport is on the other."

Her eyes lit up as they walked to the edge of the battlements and she looked out at the Sunset Sea. "It's so beautiful." On their journey to Casterly Rock, Sansa had told him that she had never left Winterfell, and never been near the Sea. Not until her time in King's Landing, when she was kept under lock and key by his horrible relations and could take no pleasure in it. "It seems to go on forever," she murmured, her eyes searching for the horizon. Sansa hesitantly looked over the edge before quickly moving back. "We're so high up here."

Jaime pointed out a particularly high cliff down below. "When I was a boy, I used to jump off of that cliff in to the sea."

"Weren't you scared?"

Jaime shook his head. "It was…exciting. To plunge through the air – completely free – before hitting the ocean below. It felt like flying." He couldn't help thinking how much simpler life was then – when he, Cersei and Tyrion were children growing up at the Rock.

"Don't mention that to Arya. She'll insist on jumping." Sansa continued gazing at the ledge. "Would Cersei jump into the ocean with you?"

"Sansa-"

"She is your sister and…I know your memories of growing up here are filled with her. You don't have to pretend that they aren't." She turned and looked at him expectantly.

"Cersei…was too afraid to jump. So, she told father what I was doing and…I thought he would kill me."

"Why did she tell your father? Was she afraid something would happen to you?"

He shook his head. "No. She didn't want me to do something that she couldn't do. She was too afraid to jump herself so…she made sure I couldn't either. She always flew into a rage whenever I was able to do something that she couldn't do. " Sansa nodded and continued gazing out at the sea, while Jaime considered that small bit of selfishness from Cersei during their childhood. He knew there were plenty more examples. He looked at Sansa, curious what she was thinking. "You are happy here, aren't you, Sansa?"

"How can you even ask that? A year ago, I was being stripped naked by Joffrey and beaten. Every day. I didn't think I would see another year. I wasn't sure I wanted to see another year. And now…I'm married to a handsome knight, who loves me and treats me as I always imagined my lord husband would treat me. And I carry our babe in my belly." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "I could not be happier, Jaime."

Jaime looked at his sweet little wife, her belly swollen with his babe, and felt overcome with rage at the thought of the abuse she suffered in King's Landing. He hated the very thought of this sweet girl wishing she was dead. She's mine now. Mine to protect and care for. Jaime shivered again as the wind howled. "Are you too cold up here?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her. The wind was fierce at the height they were at.

"I'm fine." She looked at him playfully. "You're cold because you don't have any Northern blood in you. You're used to the warmth of the South." She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. "You're not used to winter. I can keep you warm, Jaime."

He smiled, wrapping his arms around her and stroking her hair. "I'm still a bit chilly," he said with a smile. "Perhaps I could trouble you to raise my temperature a few degrees?"

Sansa smiled and leaned up to kiss him. He held her in place with his hand on the back of her head as he kissed her even more passionately, her arms wrapped around his waist. Sansa had been all over him lately. She seemed to have taken the midwife's statements that she would be more desirous of his sexual attention as permission to lure him into bed quite often to indulge her baser cravings. He certainly wasn't complaining, though he did enjoy her outraged expression when he teased her about her wanton behavior.

He felt Sansa's eager little hands slip under his cloak, trying to burrow further under his clothes. Jaime chuckled, breaking their kiss, certain he would freeze to death if she tried to strip and mount him out in the cold. "I think it's a bit cold up here for that."

She blushed and kissed him once more before taking his hand and walking to the edge of the battlements once more, this time to the side of the Rock looking out over Lannisport. She leaned against his chest and pulled his arms around her body, moving her hands over his arms to create warmth. "Will you show me Lannisport one day?"

He pulled her warm little body against his and rested his chin on her head. "Of course. All of Lannisport looks to the Lord and Lady of the Rock as their Lord and Lady, though the Lannisters are no longer kings. Once winter has come and gone, I'll take you into Lannisport and show you all the places I loved to go as a child." Jaime was still bothered by her words. He moved his hand down to her belly as he nuzzled his nose into the warmth against her neck. "Next year, our babe will be here, and we'll have many years after that to be together, and to watch our child grow up."

He felt her nod as she continued to move her hands over his arms. "I want many, many years to love you, Jaime." She turned in his arms, resting her head against his chest. "Can we go back to our chamber? I think you're getting too cold," she said mischievously.

….

Sansa had taken to wandering the halls of Casterly Rock in the mornings, while Jaime and Arya sparred. She wanted to know every inch of her new home. As always, her guards trailed after her. She had told Jaime that she didn't need guards inside Casterly Rock, but he had argued that it was a time of war, and there were a number of prisoners staying there – not only her family, but the Northerners.

Sansa had less than three moons left until the babe was to come, and she found herself growing restless. Jaime had grown quite protective of her, and had instructed her guards to make sure that she didn't wear herself out or do anything that might harm her or the babe. Lady Alys and her handmaiden, Pia, had already helped her arrange the nursery, so there was little for her to do to prepare for the child.

As she walked down a hallway she had not explored yet, she saw her mother walking towards her, her eyes fastened on Sansa's swollen belly. Sansa had not seen her mother since that first night when Jaime had taken her from Walder Frey's dungeons – several moons ago. When she had said that Sansa wasn't her daughter anymore. Sansa had often wondered if she'd ever see her mother, or if they would continue to live in the same castle, never seeing one another.

Arya had told her that Lady Catelyn had asked about her. And about the child she carried. That small bit of information gave her hope that her mother still cared about her, despite her words. Sansa would never give up her relationship with Jaime, but she would have liked for her mother to be a part of her life as well.

As the two women approached each other, Sansa stopped, wondering how her mother would receive her. "You are much further along than when I last saw you," she commented, tearing her eyes from Sansa's belly. "When is the babe due?"

"The midwife says the babe should come in less than three moons."

Her mother nodded. "And you and the babe are…healthy? You're feeling well?"

"Yes."

"Arya told me you were well. She breaks her fast with you each morning?"

Sansa nodded. "We never got along before…and sometimes we don't now but, I'm glad she's here. I had thought…I'd not see her again."

"She spends quite a lot of time with the Kingslayer."

Sansa wished her mother wouldn't call Jaime that. Especially now that Sansa knew the truth behind why Jaime had killed the Mad King. She also wished she weren't quaking for fear of what her mother might say to her. As if she were a little girl about to be scolded.

You're not a little girl. You are the Lady of Casterly Rock and Jaime Lannister's wife. Jaime even said that you are running the household well, as should be expected of his lady wife. You are a woman grown, soon to be a mother. You have no reason to fear anyone. Sansa forced herself to stand a little straighter.

"Arya and Jaime are both fond of swords," Sansa began quietly. "She's happy to have someone who will teach her. Jaime indulges her…for my sake, I expect. Though I think he's come to enjoy her company."

"You see nothing wrong with encouraging her friendship with the Kingslayer?"

Sansa bristled. "Please don't call my husband that." Now that she knew why Jaime had killed the Mad King – that he had been protecting the realm – she would not abide anyone disrespecting her husband with that epithet. "If I can be cordial to you, after telling me that I'm not your daughter…I'd hope you would at least do me that kindness."

"I've lost you to him forever, haven't I? Perhaps I'll lose all of my children before this war is over – to death or to the Lannisters."

"Mother, Jaime hasn't taken me away. There's room for the both of you in my life," she said hopefully. Please, Mother. Please don't turn me away from you again. She so wanted her mother to talk to and advise her now that her child would be born soon. But it would have to be on her terms. Lady Catelyn would have to accept that Jaime was part of her life. That he was her husband and the father of her child.

"I worry for you, Sansa." Sansa closed her eyes and nodded sadly, knowing her mother wasn't willing to accept her because of Jaime. "You're putting yourself in the middle of a bad situation. Queen Cersei is not going to take kindly to you taking away her lover."

She met her mother's eyes and knew her own expression was not a friendly one. Sansa had no intention of allowing her mother to turn Jaime's men against him by speaking of his relationship with Cersei. He could be executed for it. "I'd ask you not to speak of things you know nothing about. You think that you know Jaime – that you know the kind of man he is – but you don't. And you know nothing about our relationship. You know nothing about what exists between us – about what we have been through together. Jaime…he is my lord husband. And he is to be the father of your first grandchild. That should earn him some small amount of respect in how you speak of him."

"I should respect him?"

"As he respects you. He doesn't speak ill of you to me or to Arya, though you don't show him the same courtesy. You don't have to like him, but..."

"I will never respect him, after what he's done. The crimes he's committed –"

Sansa looked behind her mother, at her guards. "Would you please escort my mother back to her chamber?"

"Of course, Lady Lannister." The soldiers moved closer and gestured toward her mother. "Lady Stark? This way please."

She could see the anger in her mother's eyes, but she didn't care. Her mother looked at her belly once more before focusing on the large diamond necklace on her neck. About a week earlier, Jaime had noticed that Sansa never wore the jewels he had given her, outside of their chambers. He had noticed and told her that she should feel free to wear them – that he knew she liked them. She felt it would be frivolous to wear them, but he had insisted that they were hers and there was no reason to let them sit untouched in her jewel box. "Well, Lady Lannister, take care. Enjoy your jewels from the Kingslayer. I thought I raised you to value more than such meaningless trifles."

"You did. You asked if the babe and I are in good health. We are because Jaime has taken care of me. He's taken very good care of me since the night he returned to King's Landing. I would give back every single jewel Jaime's given me, every new gown…for his love. That's all I want from him. His love for me and our baby. And that's the one thing you wish to take away from me. Good day, mother."

Sansa turned on her heel, and could feel her hands shaking and tears welling in her eyes. Standing up to her mother was difficult, but she knew it had to be done if her mother was ever to give up the idea of separating she and Jaime. Sansa ran her hand over her belly. You will have a happy life, little one. With parents who love you very much.

….

I hope all of you enjoyed the newest update. Catelyn needs to learn that Sansa is not the same silly girl she was when they were last together in Winterfell and how Jaime has helped her to become the woman she is now. Keep the reviews coming!

Next chapter: Cersei writes for Jaime's help