Chapter 86

"Jaime!"

He heard Sansa scream his name. As Jaime turned to her, he heard a loud noise above him and tilted his head up. He saw the wave, higher than any he had ever seen, cresting over the ship. It crashed into the sails, flooding the deck of the ship and sending one of the huge wooden masts plummeting downward towards he and Gendry. The young blacksmith shoved him out of the way of the falling post and Jaime slipped on the flooded deck of the ship, as the mast crashed down, hitting him hard on the leg. The sail cascaded down covering much of the deck of the ship, shrouding them in Lannister crimson.

Jaime felt disoriented as all he could see was the crimson red of the sail. His leg throbbed from the blow of the mast and the fall had knocked the wind out of him. The ship continued to violently rock back and forth, cresting over massive waves as the wind howled. He heard his soldiers calling his name, and he thought he heard Sansa. She should not be out here. It's far too dangerous. As he attempted to drag himself out from under the sail, the wet crimson cloth was lifted from his head and rain began pelting his face once again.

Almost immediately, Sansa was kneeling beside him, hugging him tightly. He allowed himself a moment to indulge in the pleasure of letting her hold him. He was soaked through to the skin and she felt warm and comforting. He closed his eyes while she stroked his wet hair and clutched him against her, though he could feel that she was beginning to get soaked with rain. Her hands moved over his body, as if she were searching him for injuries. "I told you to stay below deck," he scolded quietly.

Sansa ignored his displeasure, scowling in annoyance as she continued to look him over. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll be fine, sweet girl. Just a few bruises," he said, turning his head. "Where's Gendry? The boy was right next to me." Two of Jaime's soldiers were helping Gendry sit up. He was conscious, but bleeding from his head. "Get him below deck, into one of the staterooms." Jaime saw that Pia was beside Sansa, loyally protecting her lady by draping a dry cloak over her shoulders. "Pia, you'll tend to Gendry's injuries."

She nodded. "Of course, m'lord."

"I'm all right," Gendry protested weakly, but Jaime wouldn't hear it.

"You're going down below and you'll allow her to tend to that cut on the head. That's an order." The boy has saved my life more than once – now and when we fought the White Walkers. And he's protected Arya, Sansa, Tommen and Julianna as if they were his own family. Tommen had grown very close to the young blacksmith while he helped to hide him from the Targaryen girl. And he already knew that the boy meant the world to Arya. Even little Julianna would happily smile and wave when she saw him. Somehow Robert Baratheon's bastard has managed to become a part of our family. Father and Cersei must be rolling over in their graves.

"Go below, lad. You took a nasty blow to the head. We'll fix the mast in the morning, when the storm passes. I expect this is the worst of it," the crusty old captain said, helping Gendry to his feet. "You as well, Ser Jaime." He looked at Sansa beside him. "It seems your lady wife wants you in her bunk tonight."

Sansa blushed, though she didn't release Jaime's arm, which she was holding firmly, as if she expected him to run away from her and resume helping with the ship. Despite the rain soaking them both, she had not budged from his side. The captain was an old smuggler who had helped the Blackfish reach Casterly Rock from Riverrun. Now he was working for Lannister gold.

Jaime looked at Sansa again, and could see that she was silently imploring him to let the captain and the red cloaks sail the ship while he went below deck with her. Jaime was hesitant to leave his men to deal with the storm. He felt whole and capable as he worked alongside his men. Not like a cripple and an invalid. He'd always served with his men, never leaving them to do the dirty work while he sat in comfort. Though, I never had a wife and children beside me before. He looked at Sansa.

"Please, Jaime," Sansa whispered quietly. She needs me with her more than my men. He looked her over and saw that she had become soaking wet from the rain – so much so that the hood of her cloak was plastered to her head. He nodded, giving his thanks to the captain, and followed Pia and the two soldiers helping Gendry down below deck. "Will he be all right?" Sansa asked, looking at Gendry with concern, once they were out of the rain and she could lower her hood. "Tommen and Arya are both so fond of him. And he's helped us so much."

"Don't worry, I'll look after him, m'lady," Pia said. "He'll be all right."

After Pia's reassurances, Jaime allowed Sansa to lead him back to their room. It was dark, except for the faint glow of the fire. She started to cross to the bed, but Jaime wrapped his arm around Sansa's waist, pulling her against him. "I told you to stay down here with the children, naughty girl," he said, smiling against her neck.

She turned in his arms, looking at him defiantly. "And you said you would come down here and join us."

He kissed her, wiping her lips with his thumb. He noticed she was shivering. "Are you cold?" She nodded. "We best get you out of these wet clothes," he said mischievously. "Me as well."

He pulled at the tie on her cloak, and pushed it from her shoulders. The wind howled and pitched the boat forward, sending Sansa into his arms. She helped him remove his tunic and they moved in front of the fire to warm up. Jaime turned her away from him, and unlaced her gown, which she pushed to the ground. He began kissing her shoulders and neck, after he snaked his arms around her waist. "I'm sorry I worried you," he whispered.

Sansa turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You should have known I'd come find you," she said, brushing his wet hair back from his forehead.

"I'd expect that of Arya. You always seemed better behaved than her," he whispered against her neck, as they continued peeling away their soaking wet clothes. He saw that she was still shivering, despite being in front of the fire, and reached for a wool blanket from their bed and wrapped it around her, using the blanket to pull her into his arms. She held him tightly and Jaime stroked her hair.

Jaime settled onto a fur before the fire, with Sansa in his arms and blankets wrapped around them both. Sansa cuddled against him, her grip tightening at the sound of the wind howling the thunder roaring. "Are you scared?" he asked, smiling. Jaime pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders to keep her warm, though he tipped her chin up and kissed her. "No one can hurt you, as long as you're in my arms."

She smiled, resting her head on his chest. "When there were thunderstorms…when I was growing up…Robb, Jon, Arya and Bran and I would pile furs on the floor in front of the fireplace in the Great Hall and sleep there together. It was in the center of the keep so, the thunder didn't seem as loud and…I always felt so safe when we were all together."

"You miss home, don't you?"

"Sometimes," she whispered against his neck. "I feel badly that I didn't appreciate what I had. I didn't realize how lucky I was to have the family I did. A family that really loves one another." She looked up at him, gently running her fingers over his beard. "Not everyone has that." He knew she was thinking about his own family and how the Lannisters were perpetually at each other's throats.

"No, they don't," he said quietly. "Though, I do now. Because of you." He vowed that Julianna would only know a loving and supportive family. Jaime leaned over and found her mouth, kissing her slowly. He felt one of her hands at the nape of his neck as she turned in his arms, reaching for his shoulder with the other. As she moved into his lap, the blanket slipped from her shoulders and Jaime felt her breasts against his bare chest.

"Uncle Jaime?"

Sansa quickly grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders, and smiled apologetically at Jaime. He turned to look at Tommen, who was carrying Julianna. The wind howled again. Both children looked terrified, and Julianna began squirming and reaching for Jaime.

"Julianna's scared of the storm."

"She is, is she?" Jaime asked, taking the babe from Tommen's arms. She eagerly reached for him, gripping his arms tightly. He put her on his lap and looked down at her. "What's the matter? You're safe, Julianna."

She gazed up at him with her bright green eyes and slowly smiled. "Love you," she said quietly before hugging him tightly around his neck. She rested her head on his shoulder and Jaime felt such love for his baby daughter. The thought that she had nearly been taken away from him – that moments like this had nearly been taken from him forever – terrified and angered him.

"We love you, baby girl," Sansa whispered, kissing the baby's cheek, though she continued to cling to her father.

"Love you…mama."

"Tommen come sit with me," Sansa said, wrapping her blanket tighter around her body, and making room for him between she and Jaime. He watched Sansa wrap her arm around Tommen and kiss the top of his head. Tommen and I are fortunate that Sansa is so loving and accepting of him.

"I don't like the storm, either," Tommen said quietly, leaning against her as the boat pitched to the side again. "I was holding her, like you said, but we were both scared."

"That's all right," Sansa said. "We don't mind if you stay here with us tonight. The captain said the storm should pass soon. Then it won't be so scary."

"Tommen, when Sansa was a little girl, she and her brothers and sisters would all sleep together during a storm, in front of the fire in the Great Hall at Winterfell." He looked around the room. "We could all sleep here in front of the fire." He saw Sansa smile, appreciating that he wasn't making her forget her life with her family in Winterfell.

"Can my kittens sleep with us?"

"You can bring their cage in here," Sansa said. "Be careful walking. The boat's moving around a bit." Tommen jumped up and walked into his room to get his kittens.

Sansa reached for one of Jaime's tunics, quickly pulling it over her head. "So much for my plans for passing the time tonight," he said with a smile, as she covered her nakedness. She shook her head at his wantonness and gave him some loose linen pants to sleep in. She walked over to the bed and grabbed the pillows and furs, tossing them onto the floor beside Jaime. Julianna wouldn't release her grip on him, but he helped Sansa begin to make a bed for them as best he could.

"Thank you, Jaime," she said. "For…letting me keep some part of my childhood."

He gestured to the babe in his arms. "She's your daughter, too. She deserves to know what bizarre things you Northerners do." Sansa threw a pillow at him, hitting him in the face.

"We'll have to punish your mother for that," he told Julianna, grabbing Sansa with his free arm and tickling her. Julianna began to shriek in excitement as Sansa struggled to get away. He stopped tickling her and pulled her against him. "I love you."

Sansa kissed him. "I love you, too." Her eyes shifted behind him. "Tommen, let me help you." She walked to the doorway and took the kittens from him. He trailed along beside her with his pillow and blanket. Sansa smacked Jaime's shoulder as she passed. She must have noticed me admiring her legs. She does look fetching in my tunic and nothing else.

She and Tommen piled up furs and pillows, making a tempting looking nest for the four of them to sleep in. He murmured quietly to Julianna, who was nuzzling against him, settling in for the night now that she was safely in her father's arms, surrounded by her family. Once they were all comfortable, a loud rumble of thunder echoed through the room and Tommen moved closer to Sansa. He looked at Jaime fearfully.

"It's all right. I know it feels as if the boat will be swept away in the storm, but we're safe. It's just the motion of the water."

"Why did we have to leave Casterly Rock?" Tommen asked suddenly. "I liked it there."

Sansa looked at Jaime uncertainly. "The lady with the dragons – the new Queen – she didn't like me. Because…I killed her father."

"The Mad King?"

"Yes."

"If she's Queen now…does that mean I'm not King anymore?"

Jaime didn't know what to say, but Sansa spoke before he could. "Did you like being King, Tommen?"

He shook his head. "I liked stamping the papers Lord Tyrell put in front of me to sign."

Jaime and Sansa both tried not to laugh at the only pleasure Tommen took in being King. "Anything else?"

"No. The crown was heavy and too big for me and...I didn't get to play with a sword or learn to joust because I was King and couldn't get hurt. And I didn't get to live with you and Julianna and Uncle Jaime."

Hearing Tommen express his happiness at living with he and Sansa gave Jaime the confidence to answer his question. "Well, you're not King anymore. That's why we're leaving for the Free Cities. The lady with the dragons wants to be Queen and…she thinks she has to hurt all of us to get the Iron Throne."

"But you won't let her hurt us, will you, Uncle?"

"No, Tommen. I won't let anyone hurt you. I'll protect all of us." The boy nodded and rested his head on the pillow beside Sansa. She reached over him to take Jaime's hand, linking her fingers through his. He closed his eyes and rested his head atop Julianna's, listening to the sounds of the storm as they all drifted off to sleep.

…

Catelyn Stark stood in the Great Hall at the Twins, rooted to the spot where Robb was murdered. For hours, she could do nothing more than stand there. Edmure had tried to get her to leave - to wait with Roslin in her tent, or at least in some other part of the keep - but she couldn't seem to move. She felt a tension in her body – as if she were preparing for the Freys to attack once again, as they had at the Red Wedding.

The North had taken the Twins – and Walder Frey's head. The banners of Houses Stark and Tully flew above the Twins. Robb was avenged. The North was avenged. And all who had participated in his murder – and that of his men – were dead. But it wasn't enough. It wouldn't bring back Robb. Her firstborn. It wouldn't make her forget the sight of them taking his head and replacing it with Grey Wind's. The blood. She'd never forget all the blood. Or the screams. Her own most of all.

Why didn't I follow my instincts? I knew something was wrong. I knew it. By the time she realized the entire wedding was a trap – a way to kill Robb and steal Riverrun – it had been too late. Robb had been shot with arrows and weakened, his men slaughtered. While two of Walder Frey's sons restrained her, Roose Bolton drove his sword through Robb's chest. In that moment, she wished they would kill her, too.

As her son lay dying, all she could hear was the triumphant laughter of Walder Frey. He was joyous that he had killed the grandson of Hoster Tully and would now imprison his son and daughter. He thought he had won – that Lannister gold would protect him.

He was not so triumphant on the chopping block. As Lord of Riverrun, his head was for Edmure to take, but he had deferred to the Blackfish. Despite the atrocities he had orchestrated, Walder Frey was still Roslin's father and out of respect for her, Edmure had handed over his sword. Roslin remained far away from the Twins, with her babe, knowing that her father and brothers had this coming, but having no desire to see it.

Arya had volunteered to behead Lord Walder herself – rather excitedly. Catelyn worried that she'd become far too bloodthirsty. She's seen things no child should see. And done things, as well. Sansa had told her about Arya killing Ser Ilyn Payne, though she had sworn her to secrecy, insisting that Jaime had spoken to Arya about it. Catelyn had been reluctant to trust that Jaime Lannister had counseled her daughter appropriately, but Sansa had been unrelenting in her assurances that he cared for Arya and would speak to her as her father would have. It had taken every ounce of Catelyn's strength not to lash out at Sansa for comparing Jaime to Ned. But she had eventually realized that Sansa was right. Jaime had as much experience as Ned with such matters. He certainly knows better than I how it feels to kill.

There's been so much blood and death…

Catelyn knelt on the floor beside the spot where Robb had died. Where he'd fallen after Roose Bolton stabbed him. Where the Frey boys had sawed through his neck. "I'm sorry, Robb. I'm sorry they killed you and not me." It had been more than a year and still she woke most nights, her heart racing and tears streaming down her face. "I wish I could remember you as you were…not as the Freys left you…bloody and mutilated on the floor."

"Mother?" Arya said uncertainly behind her. "Are you all right?" she asked, joining her on the floor.

Am I all right? My husband is dead. All of my boys are dead. She held her daughter close, grateful that she still had Arya and Sansa. Even if she never saw Sansa again, she knew she was alive and happy. She knew she was safe with her own child in her arms. Catelyn might despise Jaime Lannister for what he did to Bran, but she knew he would protect her daughter.

Arya stared down at the floor. "Is this where…they killed Robb?" she finished in a whisper. Catelyn nodded, blinking back tears. "I was trying to get to you when...Gendry saw them lighting Robb's banners on fire. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I could have protected him."

Catelyn smiled. "I know you would have tried. Robb would not have wanted you to be harmed." Nor would he have wanted you to see what they did to all of us. "He would be glad that your friend prevented you from coming in here." She looked her daughter over, not having seen her in the hours since they took the Twins. "Where have you been, Arya?"

"Uncle Blackfish and I were walking through the towers – to make certain all the Freys are dead." Catelyn sighed. Trust Brynden to take her with him on such a grim task. He's worse than the Kingslayer, the way he indulges her unladylike ways. "Are we going to stay here for very long?" she asked, helping her mother rise to her feet.

Catelyn shook her head. We can't leave here soon enough, as far as I'm concerned. "The soldiers need to rest for a few days, after their battle."

After helping them all to escape Casterly Rock, Brynden Tully had promised to restore Winterfell to she and Arya. As they traveled North, toward the Twins, it was decided that they would all remain in Winterfell until the Spring, gathering their forces before marching South to reclaim Riverrun for Edmure and House Tully. Roose Bolton ruled the North now, Winterfell being his reward from Lord Tywin. But the great lion is dead.

Nearly every house in the North had been waiting, it seemed, for Catelyn Stark and whichever of her children – whichever of Ned Stark's children - remained to return and mount an attack on the Lord of the Dreadfort. A few scouts had been sent North by Ser Brynden, to test the loyalties of the Northerners. They had returned with thousands of men, who were only too happy to help mount an attack on the Twins. She remembered what Ned had always told her. The North Remembers. Walder Frey would have done best to remember that. And Roose Bolton will soon learn it.

"Arya, once the soldiers are rested and we've gathered enough supplies from the Frey's stores, we'll travel North. We're going home."

…

Tyrion sat in the temporary quarters Daenerys had designated for his use until the Tower of the Hand was rebuilt. I knew Cersei was crazy, but to burn the tower to the ground with wildfire…what was she thinking? I suppose she was overcome with grief for our lord father. He sipped his hot spiced wine and waited for Pod to escort his betrothed to join him. She'd arrived in King's Landing today, but Tyrion couldn't bring himself to meet her carriage. Why couldn't Varys have suggested a sweet, innocent girl like Sansa? Though, Tyrion supposed, taking another swallow of wine, such a girl would recoil in horror at the sight of him. This one may as well. At least she deserves the unhappiness and humiliation of being wedded and bedded by the Imp.

He heard Pod's tentative knock on the door and bid him to enter. Margaery Tyrell was on his arm and entered his solar. "My lady," Tyrion said, barely acknowledging her. "You may leave us Pod. Thank you."

She adjusted her skirts and sat in the chair opposite him, close to the fire, and taking off the heavy green velvet that shrouded her. It rather amused him that despite the cold weather, she still bared quite a bit of skin beneath her traveling cloak. Cersei would have some choice words for her attire.

"Would you care for some spiced wine, my lady? It will keep away the chill."

"Thank you, my lord," she said quietly, as she assessed the situation. He could see that she was uncomfortable, though doing her best to hide her true feelings. A serving girl handed her a cup and stoked the fire before leaving them alone. "I was surprised that you weren't outside to greet my carriage, my lord Hand."

"I'm Hand of the Queen and…there is much to do as part of her new reign. Besides, we'll have the rest of our lives together." Hopefully it will be longer than the lifetime you spent with Joffrey.

Margaery nodded, putting down her cup. "You don't like me."

"I don't know you. Strike that. I don't know you, except that you've married three kings in your family's desperation to make you Queen. And yet still purport to be a maiden. I also know that you left me to take the blame for the murder of your second husband, when you and your family killed him yourself. I know that I would have been executed for your crimes if…fate had not intervened." Though by fate, I mean, Jaime.

She looked at him in surprise. "You think I had something to do with what happened to my dear Joffrey?" She is rather good actress. I'll have to keep that in mind, if I'm ever inclined to believe her to be sincere. "I have always believed that he choked on the pie and…what happened to you was a great tragedy. I did hope that your sister would see beyond her grief and realize that it was the gods that killed her son. But she was determined to accuse you. I prayed many times that justice would be served, and so it has."

"Listen to me, my lady, and listen carefully. Queen Daenerys knows my suspicions about your involvement in Joffrey's death. If something were to happen to me – were to I to choke on my supper – you would not like the fate that would await you."

"Why would you suspect me?"

"Did you think Sansa would not tell Jaime that you warned her to stay close to him at all times during your wedding? And that he would not tell me once I was accused? Sansa was determined to testify for me at my trial, but neither Jaime nor I would allow her to incur the wrath of your family. The girl's been through enough." She seemed genuinely surprised at that revelation. "Varys vouched for you to Daenerys. She is satisfied – for now."

"But you're not satisfied?"

"No." I'm not going to play her little games. I will not act as if I am honored and grateful for a beautiful highborn girl to marry, when I know the avarice and ambition that lies behind those big brown eyes.

She looked down at her hands for a long time before breaking the deafening silence in the solar. "I know not what Lord Varys said to the Queen on behalf of myself and my family. I do know that the Queen had little choice but to pardon me and my family," she began quietly. "There will likely be a long Winter ahead still…but it is not so barren in Highgarden and…the smallfolk require the generosity of House Tyrell. For food and grain."

"So that's your bargain with Varys."

"I've traveled here alone. Without even my brother, Loras, for protection. The Queen sent…those soldiers to escort me here. I'm told is important to her that her Hand be respectable and…marry someone worthy of the title. That it will please her subjects and…add legitimacy to her reign and her small counsel. In return, my father will remain Warden of the South and…"

"And not lose his head, as he rightly should, for acting as ruler under the authority of a boy king? A boy he then threw to the dragons?" Tyrion almost felt bad for her. She was being offered up – her maidenhead given to him – to secure her father's lands and titles. He was giving her to a man she no doubt believed to be far beneath her. I suppose I am far beneath her worth in beauty. But any sympathy he might have felt for the girl vanished when he recalled how he'd nearly died because of her treachery. When he recalled the humiliation of his trial. The final proof that his father hated him. "Don't think you'll leave a fourth marriage as a maiden."

"I did not expect to. Your reputation is well-known, even in Highgarden." It seems this rose does have a few thorns. If she really wants to learn all of my appetites, I'll oblige the little rose. He looked at her again as she spoke to him in a low voice. "Though, you forget that I am still married. Even if my little lord husband has fled with his father and Sansa to the Free Cities."

"Say that to the Queen and she may withdraw her generosity. Don't worry, my lady, the Septon will set aside all of your marriages…to all three usurpers. Though they are dead, the Queen is taking no chances that anyone would see you as a former queen. It will be as if your marriages to Renly, Joffrey and Tommen never happened. So, even if you believe the silly rumors about Tommen being alive…fear not. You and I will be bound together for all eternity."

I best employ a food taster, if I have any hope of making it through this marriage alive.

…

Thanks for reading and reviewing. Jaime and Sansa will have more to do in the next chapter, rather than just sitting on their ship. I had originally planned a large time jump after their escape from Casterly Rock (skipping over years) but because there was such enthusiasm from so many of you, I decided to have the story cover this time period.

I don't think Margaery is that shocking of a choice as Tyrion's bride. And if he can ever trust her (though he probably should not) they would be a good team, even if he can't make her Queen. They are both good at the game. I think even Tywin would approve

Next chapter: Jaime and Sansa encounter the Dornish at sea