Chapter 69

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Ser Addam, Gendry and Edmure had to carry Jaime back to their bedchamber, though he'd fought and argued with them the whole way, insisting that he was fine and could walk on his own. Sansa wanted to scream at him that he was certainly not fine and to stop acting like a child, but she told herself that he was in suffering and she had to be patient with him. She'd never considered that Jaime would return to her so physically broken.

"Jaime, please let them help you. Don't be so ungracious…so stubborn…" She knew it was his pride – that he did not wish for so many people to see him so helpless and hurt. She knew he'd prefer to hide away in a dark corner alone to lick his wounds, but his injuries were far too serious for that. He must have heard in her voice how close she was to breaking, because he shut his mouth and let them help him the rest of the way to their bedchamber.

Tommen and Arya had followed close behind them, both wanting to help Jaime. Arya even tried to help carry him, hoisting one of his legs onto her shoulder, until Sansa pulled her back, getting her out of the men's way. Sansa kept her eyes on Jaime's face, and she could see that he was in pain, but was working hard not to show it. She feared he would be screaming in pain if he were alone, with no one else to hear him. Once they placed him on their bed, Jaime angrily told everyone to get out.

"Go to your wife, Tully. I'd expect you'd rather be in her bedchamber than mine after more than a month away from her. All of you – go! Enjoy the welcome feast," Jaime was yelling, but she could see that he was actually quite weak and that it was an effort for him to be so ill-mannered. "Maester Marwyn will patch me up. I don't need all of you as nursemaids," he muttered quietly.

Sansa sat beside him on the bed, rubbing his back. She was the only one he didn't push away or yell at. She nodded to the men to go. They would need to be alone if she was going to calm Jaime and make him feel better. "Thank you for getting him back here…alive. He'll – he'll be fine now." Edmure squeezed her shoulder in comfort as he left. Sansa began to remove his cloak. She saw that he was trying not to cry out from the pain of his wounds. He was breathing deeply and gritting his teeth, his hand clasping her waist hard enough to bruise.

"Tommen, I need you to back up a bit, so I can help him," she said patiently, as the boy clung to Jaime's arm. She was beginning to worry that she couldn't care for Jaime with the children in her way, though she knew they only wanted to help them. She was debating telling them to leave – though she doubted they would - when she heard her mother's voice from the doorway.

"Arya, come take the baby. Now," she said, more sternly, when Arya hesitated to leave Jaime and Sansa. She turned her head and saw her mother put Julianna in Arya's arms before coming into the room and taking Tommen's hand, prying him away from Jaime and wrapping her arm around his shoulder.

"Let Sansa take care of him, all right? He'll be well." She couldn't hear what Tommen said to her mother as she walked him out of the room, but Sansa saw her wipe away his tears and lead all of the children from the room, closing the door and leaving she and Jaime alone. She knew her mother would never help her take care of Jaime – she was still so angry with him - but at least she helped her with the children.

"I returned to you," Jaime whispered, his eyes closed. It terrified her to see him in such pain. He was her brave, fearless knight. She'd seen him in pain emotionally, but she never doubted his physical strength. She had never seen him in such physical agony – so weak and broken. It was such a contrast to how strong and in control he always had been. She didn't even want to imagine how awful it must have been when he'd lost his sword hand.

"You did, Jaime. You returned to me, just as you said you would," she whispered gently, running her hand down his face, watching as he leaned into her touch as if it were a healing balm. She wished it were that simple to take away all of his pain. "Maester Marywn will need to clean your wounds. If I help you, do you think you can walk to the bathing room?"

Jaime nodded, his face etched with pain as he stood. He leaned against her heavily and groaned as she slowly walked him into the bathing room and helped him sit on the edge of the marble bath. Sansa began removing his clothes, first gently unwinding the bloody linen strips wrapped around his chest and stomach. She could see that he was fighting the pain, clinging to her with his good hand. "It's all right, Jaime. Don't fight it…you can scream if you have to. Anything that will make the pain bearable," she whispered, as she removed the layers of leather that covered his body. She didn't know if he'd be able to raise his arms so she could remove his tunic, so she found her scissors and cut up the middle, peeling it from his arms. She sucked in her breath at the sight of the bloody gash across his side, the edges angry and red with infection.

"That bad?"

She'd never seen a wound so horrible, other than her father's beheading, but Sansa would not allow herself to think that Jaime might die. She pressed a kiss to his mouth, his beard tickling her face as she did so. "You're going to be fine. I won't allow anything to happen to you."

"This isn't the homecoming I'd planned, Sansa."

"You're home. That's all that matters. Life isn't perfect…It's not a song…you're home." She knelt on the floor in front of him and began working on the rest of his clothes, pulling off his boots and then moving to the laces on his breeches.

"I'm sorry you're not…taking off my clothes under...more pleasant circumstances, Sansa."

She supposed she should be glad that he was in good humor, but she didn't have it in her to be amused. He was softly petting her hair as she stripped off his breeches, leaving him naked. An equally horrible wound was across his thigh and she began to despair. How could this happen to him? As she looked over his body, she saw that he was pale all over – not from cold as she had thought, but from losing blood. He met her gaze and she leaned over him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him. "You're safe now, Jaime. I'll take good care of you. I promise."

He nodded weakly, nuzzling against her neck. "Sansa…I feared I wouldn't see you again."

She cuddled him against her, knowing that her touch soothed him. At least a little bit. "You're going to do more than just see me again. Jaime, you are going to get well and we are going to be together for a long time."

Maester Merwyn came in just then with his bag of potions, and quite a lot of equipment. "You needn't see this, my lady. Wait with your daughter in the nursery and I'll speak to you when I'm done."

She shook her head. "I'm not leaving him. I'll help you."

He considered her for a moment, and then looked at Jaime who was leaning against her, miserable, and nodded. "My lady, would you be so good as to wash his wounds while I boil the wine? Use hot water – as hot as he can stand."

Sansa nodded, waiting for the water to heat before cleaning the deep slashes on her husband's body, as gently as possible. He groaned in pain every time she touched him and she murmured apologies, leaning over and kissing his temple. She wanted to cry, knowing that while her touch had always brought him pleasure, now it was causing him pain. When she'd finished, Maester Merwyn leaned over Jaime, peering at the injuries and clicked his tongue.

"What is it?" Sansa asked.

He raised his eyes to Jaime's. "I don't know how you always manage this, Jaime. Ever since you were a boy…this is by far the worst injury you've come to me with." His eyes flicked to Sansa. "Infection has begun to set in, though not too badly. I'll flush it with boiled wine and then cut away the bits of dead tissue. I'll flush it once more with the wine and then I'll sew it up."

Sansa sat behind Jaime, helping to keep him upright as the Maester worked. She softly stroked his arm, trying to comfort him. She kissed his shoulder, resting her head on it and wrapped her other arm across his chest, tracing her fingers over his skin.

The wine was poured over his leg first and Sansa was horrified by Jaime's screams of pain. She'd never heard such a mournful sound and she didn't know what to do to help him. He clutched her hand tightly and struggled, though the Maester was stronger than he looked and held Jaime still as he bucked and fought, until finally Jaime gave up and leaned his head back against her shoulder as he roared with pain.

Maester Merwyn stopped after the first pour and left the room for a moment, returning with a leather belt, folded in half. Sansa had no idea what it was for, but Jaime seemed to, grunting as he took it from the Maester's outstretched hand and placed it in his mouth, biting down on it.

"Can't you give him milk of the poppy? Something to take away his pain?"

Jaime shook his head in the negative, adamant. "He's never allowed me to give it to him, my lady. Not even as a child. Stubborn," he said with disapproval as he went for more wine.

They adjusted Jaime's position and he poured the second kettle of wine over Jaime's torso. Sansa didn't know what was worse – the piercing screams of pain from before, or the anguished panting and tears flowing from Jaime's eyes as he practically bit through the leather strap in his mouth. She stroked his hair and saw that his gaze never wavered from hers, even as he moaned in agony. Sansa knew that she couldn't look away from him. She couldn't close her eyes to block out the horror before her. He's getting strength from looking in my eyes. She wanted to cry and to fall apart, but she knew that she could not. I can be brave for him. He's in so much pain. This is nothing for me.

Sansa continued to stare into Jaime's eyes – not able to bring herself to look at what the Maester was doing as he approached Jaime with some awful looking scissors and a small blade to cut away any dead skin. Jaime leaned back against her, clutching her thigh with his one good hand as the Maester tended to his injuries. She didn't know what to do and just held her wounded lion in her arms, whispering over and over that she loved him.

"I'd take some of your pain myself if I could," she murmured against his ear. She found herself wishing he would just pass out from the pain, but he did not. My poor Jaime.

"Now I'll need to sew up the wounds." She watched as the Maester took out some threads and poured wine over them and burned the tip of a needle in the flame. The man was old and his hand appeared a bit shaky.

"I'll do it," Sansa said, sounding braver than she actually was. He looked at her in question and she nodded. "I insist." She ran her hand over Jaime's face, and removed the belt from his mouth.

"Let her do it, if she's up to it," Jaime ground out. "Her stitches will likely be prettier than yours."

"Very well, my lady. We should move him to the bed. You'll have an easier time if he's lying down." Together they helped Jaime to the bed, settling him on his back. Sansa pulled a chair over from the fire and took the needle and thread from Maester Merwyn after pouring the boiled wine over her hands to clean them.

"You won't reconsider the milk of the poppy?" the Maester asked Jaime, clearly expecting to be refused. "Every stitch will be agony."

"I never had any milk of the poppy when they cut off my hand. Nor when the healer at Harrenhal cut away the dead skin on my stump. That was far worse than this. I'll just scream."

Maester Merwyn looked at her nervously, and Sansa took the milk of the poppy from his hand, uncorking it. "Don't be so stubborn, Jaime. Please don't make me listen to you scream and see the pain I cause you with every stitch. Please. I won't allow anything to happen to you. I'll take care of you, while you can't." She knew it was difficult for him to give up control, but he must have seen her desperation to end his pain. He took the bottle from her and drank it.

Sansa leaned over and kissed him as he was swept into dreamland.

She followed the Maester's instructions, stitching up first the deep cut to Jaime's leg, and then the cut across his side. Though the cuts were deep, he didn't think the muscles had been damaged. Sansa was amazed that her hand wasn't shaking and she was able to block out everything and focus on sewing up Jaime's bloody injuries. She felt such calm that it was as if she were stitching a blanket for Julianna, not sewing up gaping wounds in Jaime's skin.

When she finished, the Maester applied a salve to Jaime's wounds, and left a small jar of it with Sansa so she could continue to apply it several times a day to prevent any further infection. Maester Merwyn had her hold Jaime while he poured an elixir down his throat. He told her it would work the fever and infection out of his system, though he warned her that the fever would get much worse before it got better.

"Lady Lannister…do you truly insist upon caring for him yourself? It won't be easy. He won't be easy. I've cared for him since he was a boy and...he's very difficult when he's wounded."

"No one will be taking care of my husband but me. It's my duty. And…I want to take care of him." He smiled and patted her shoulder, murmuring that Ser Jaime was fortunate to have such a devoted lady wife.

After he left she draped a coverlet over Jaime's legs, covering him to the waist and shakily lowered herself into the chair beside him. Sansa wasn't certain how long she sat there, watching Jaime sleep. Her hand was shaking as she thought about how easily Jaime could have died. She supposed he still could. Sansa shook her head, chasing away such thoughts. I won't let him die. I'll make him better.

She heard the door open and Pia entered, carrying in a tray of food, followed by Lady Catelyn. Pia placed the tray down and looked at Jaime, the concern evident on her face. "Will he be all right, m'lady? The boy keeps asking me."

"Tell Tommen that…he has a slight fever but…he should be all right in a few days."

Sansa turned her attention back to Jaime, listening to her mother speak quietly to Pia. "See to it that all children have their dinner…Arya included." She heard Pia agree before leaving and then felt her mother rest her hand on her shoulder. "Julianna can sleep in my room tonight."

"No, Mother, I can't ask you-"

"I know you'll want to be up all night with him. I'll look after the baby."

"Thank you."

"You should eat something, my love."

"I…I'm not hungry, mother."

"You'll not do him any good if you wear yourself out." Her mother pulled her to her feet, and began to lead her toward the bathing room.

"No, I can't leave Jaime."

"He'll be unconscious for quite a while," she murmured. "We'll be right in here. You'll hear him if he should wake."

Her mother filled a basin with clean water and put Sansa's hands in it. She watched as the water turned pink with Jaime's blood as her mother gently rubbed her hands. She'd not even realized that she had his blood on her hands until then. Her mother moved behind her and began pulling at the laces on her gown. Sansa looked down and saw that blood stained the front of her gown. Jaime's blood. She began to cry as her mother stripped off her bloody clothes and wrapped a dressing gown around her.

Her mother held her, rubbing her back as she cried on her shoulder. "Shh…it's all right, my love. It's all right."

Sansa shook her head. "He could still die from infection."

"You'll pray for him and you'll take care of him. The Maester said he has every reason to believe that he'll recover."

"I don't think I could go on without him," she whispered, clinging to her mother.

"You should have something to eat," she said, leading Sansa back to her chair in front of the fire and forcing her to eat something before she resumed caring for Jaime.

"Thank you. For taking the children out of here...I know they wanted to help but..."

She nodded. "Tommen and Arya have been playing with Julianna. Though Arya's bossing Tommen around more than anything. He takes it well." Sansa smiled and ate a spoonful of the thick stew Pia had brought her. "I spoke to Lord Umber. 'Foolishly brave,' I believe, is how he described Jaime in that final battle. Where he was injured. He said that he fought as well as those with two hands."

"Are they back in the dungeons? Father's bannermen?"

Catelyn nodded. "Yes. Though Ser Addam ordered that they be given extra furs to sleep on, a barrel of wine and an entire roasted boar for their supper. It seems they'll have improved accommodations for the duration of the winter."

"That's good," Sansa said, looking over at Jaime, unconscious on the bed. Her mother sat with her, and pressed her to eat her dinner, as if she were a little girl once again. Once she'd eaten enough to satisfy her mother, Sansa heard the sound of the chamber door opening and saw that Pia had returned. Tommen walked beside her, clutching her hand and nervously looking around the chamber, until he saw Jaime and dropped her hand.

"He insisted on seeing Ser Jaime for himself before going to sleep, m'lady."

"Careful, Tommen," Sansa said quietly, seeing that he was climbing onto the bed beside Jaime. "You can leave him for a few minutes," she whispered to Pia. "I'll send him to his room once he's seen Jaime."

"Are you certain, m'lady?" Sansa nodded, hugging her mother goodnight and leaning against the door as it closed, leaving her alone with Jaime and Tommen. She sat back in her chair at Jaime's bedside and saw that the boy was looking at the large wound on Jaime's side.

"Does it hurt him?" he asked.

"It doesn't hurt him now, but…he was hurting badly before. That's why he was in such a foul mood earlier."

"He's not moving," Tommen said, looking up at Sansa, his chin quivering.

"We gave him medicine so he would sleep. So he would not feel any pain." She took Tommen's little hand and placed it on Jaime's chest. "Do you feel his heart beating against your hand? He's alive, sweetling."

She watched as Tommen kissed Jaime's forehead. "I love you, uncle," he whispered, sitting beside him. Sansa ran her hand over Jaime's hair, brushing it off his face. She removed the golden hand so Jaime could sleep comfortably, and saw Tommen staring curiously at the stump where Jaime's sword hand used to be.

"Mother said Uncle Jaime changed when he lost his hand."

Sansa leaned back in her chair beside and considered Tommen. "He did change, Tommen. But I think…he would say that he changed for the better. That he lost a lot of himself, along with his hand but…he gained many things as well." He was given Julianna. And me. And I was given him.

"You won't let him die, will you?"

Sansa saw that Tommen was staring down at Jaime, tears forming in his eyes. She took Tommen's chin in her hands, tilting him up to face her. "He is not going to die. I won't let that happen. I promise you. Now, you should go to bed. You can visit him again in the morning."

Tommen nodded. "May I hug him?" he asked.

"Of course, sweetling. Just don't touch where he's hurt, all right?"

Tommen smiled and carefully hugged Jaime. "I'm glad you're back. Good night, Uncle," he whispered. Sansa helped him off the bed and he hugged her tightly. "Good night, Sansa."

"Good night."

After Tommen left, Sansa slipped off her shoes and climbed on the bed next to Jaime, folding her legs under her as she sat beside him. She rested her hand on his chest, over his heart, and felt it beating – just as she'd had Tommen do. His skin felt very warm and he was groaning in pain in his sleep. With his beard, he looked as he did when he first returned to King's Landing. Before they had fallen in love. I had no idea when he draped his cloak around me and got me away from Joffrey that he would change my life as much as he has. She gently ran her hand over his broken body, seeing many smaller bruises and scars, besides the two horrible wounds that currently threatened his life.

"Don't make a liar of me, Jaime. You must fight. You must fight and get well." She leaned over and kissed him. "I love you, Jaime. I love you." She kissed his shoulder as she rested her head on it, her hand resting on his heart.

…

Thank you for the amazing reviews. There's quite a bit more to this story, and I'm glad all of you are still interested and enjoying it. Sorry Jaime is suffering (especially after last week's show), but at least he has Sansa to take care of him and comfort him.

Next Chapter: Jaime fights to get well