Chapter 95

Sansa put Julianna to bed, singing to her softly. She sang one of the songs her mother used to sing when she was just a little girl. It reminded her of Winterfell and home and her family. She had felt so safe and secure growing up – without ever giving it a moment's consideration. I took having a happy childhood for granted. Sansa had never known anything but being safe until she left Winterfell. Now…it seemed all she had known was fear and danger. Well, not all. Jaime and Julianna have brought me happiness.

She cursed herself for believing that the danger would disappear once they were in Lys, knowing she should not have been so foolish. She should not have believed she and Jaime could simply sail away and live happily ever after. That's not the world we live in. Sansa leaned over and gently kissed Julianna's soft little cheek and pulled the light blanket over her. I'll do all in my power to ensure that you only know happiness. Not the pain and fear that I have known.

Sansa slowly walked back to her bedchamber and sat on the bed, thinking about her mother. She was back in Winterfell now. For that Sansa was grateful. She wondered if there was anything left after Theon and the Ironborn set it on fire – Ser Addam's letter had been vague on details. She hoped that the damage wasn't as awful as had been reported. She wondered if her mother was sleeping in the bed she had shared with her father. It must be difficult for her to be there now that father is dead. They did so love each other.

Had it not been for Gerion, Sansa knew she would be facing the same torment – sleeping in this bed alone. Without Jaime. Why won't the Queen leave us alone? Just the thought of Jaime dying terrified her.She needed him and they had fought so hard to get away from Westeros and to be together. Why can't she be happy with her throne and be done with it? Sansa ran her hand over her belly. Julianna would scarce remember him and this babe would not know him at all had she succeeded. Sansa shook her head. Now that they knew the Queen was still a threat, they could prepare for any assassin she might send after them. Jaime's men would be vigilant and they would not allow anyone to hurt him. I'm not the only one who cares what happens to Jaime.

Sansa smiled to herself as she thought about Gerion Lannister. He was so charming and handsome. And so like Jaime. She had studied them both at dinner and the resemblance between the two lions was apparent. I wish he had stayed here with us. He could have protected us. She reminded herself that Jaime was a warrior himself. He's strong and smart. He'll stay safe. I pray he stays safe.

Sansa knelt on the floor beside the bed, and began to pray to the Warrior, begging him to look after Jaime and protect him. I need him. Tommen and little Julianna need him. As does this babe growing inside me. Please protect him from those that would do him harm.

"What are you doing?" Jaime asked from behind her in a soft voice. "Are you praying?" She nodded, and lowered her eyes sheepishly, knowing that he stopped believing in the gods long ago and would think her foolish. "Why?" he asked, placing a large golden sword onto the bed before sitting down.

Sansa rested her hand on his knee. "You need ask, after today? I'm afraid. I'm afraid that something will happen to you. I'm afraid that the Queen will send another assassin after us. And another. Until they succeed and kill you. I know you think prayer is foolish but…if I didn't pray for you and something happened…"

His expression softened and he reached for her, helping her onto his lap and holding her tightly. "I'm sorry for what happened today – that you and the children were frightened. We'll increase our guards and…I'll be more vigilant. I suppose I let the beauty and the peace we've found here to get the better of me." She hadn't realized there were tears in her eyes until he brushed his thumb across her cheek. "Don't cry, sweet girl. If Uncle Gerion thinks I'm making you unhappy, he may just return and take you away from me."

She laughed then, resting her head on his shoulder. "Your uncle is very gallant."

"I'm not surprised that he spent the evening flirting with you, but I was surprised at how much…pleasure you took in his attentions…blushing and giggling like a maiden. I should think that a proper lady would discourage another man from flirting with her in the presence of her husband."

She blushed and leaned her head against his shoulder, concealing her face from his view as she failed in her efforts to keep from smiling. "He's…very handsome. Like you. He reminds me of you…of how you'll be in another twenty years. And I know you aren't actually jealous," she said playfully, resting her hand on his cheek as she raised her head from his shoulder and met his green eyes with her blue ones. "You're the most handsome man in…that I have ever known and ever will know. And I could never love anyone more."

His eyes darkened with pleasure and Sansa kissed him; gently at first, though she slowly coaxed his tongue to slide against hers. After nearly losing him – nearly losing the chance to ever kiss him again – Sansa couldn't get enough of his kisses. She couldn't seem to get close enough to him as she shifted in his lap to straddle him and press her chest against his. She felt her body temperature begin to rise and felt Jaime's arm tighten across her back and his hand tangle in her hair. Sansa finally broke their kiss, resting her forehead against his and breathing heavily as he smiled wickedly.

"I see I'm not the only one whose passions rise after cheating death. You're rarely so…wanton." His mouth began moving against her throat. "I love you, Sansa. I'm sorry for today." He kissed her ear as his hand began pulling her gown down to her waist. "There won't be any more close calls."

Sansa knew that he couldn't make such a promise. He knew it as well. If the Queen wanted to send another assassin after them, she could do so. We just won't be as careless. We're still at war. Even here in this paradise. Jaime distracted her from her thoughts when his mouth closed over her nipple and he began to suckle. She moaned his name and her hands clumsily pulled at his tunic in her desperation to feel his skin against hers. Jaime chuckled, abandoning his attention to her breasts, and helped her remove his thin tunic which she promptly tossed aside.

Sansa took his face in her hands and kissed him again and again. I have to remember every moment with him. She didn't want to take a single moment they shared for granted. She sat back and slowly moved her hands and eyes over his chest – studying him. His skin had turned golden again since their arrival in the Free Cities. He spent so much time out on their terrace or swimming with the children in the sea. Her own skin was still pale as snow, thanks to a lotion she'd purchased in the market, which promised to keep her skin white and soft.

"You know…you have just as much mischief in your eyes as your uncle," she murmured.

"Do I really?" Jaime asked, lying back on the bed, and gazing up at her as she sat astride him, his hand moving over her thigh as his golden hand rested at her waist. "The only mischief I see right now is in you. I believe it is you who is seducing me. Not that I'm complaining."

Sansa smiled as she continued to slowly move her hands over his bronzed flesh, admiring his form and the way his muscles moved beneath his skin. He's so…beautiful. And he's mine. I won't let anyone take him from me. Jaime beckoned her towards him and she didn't deny him, stretching out on top of him, showering kisses onto his chest before covering his mouth with her own, once again. She could feel his hardness against her as he thrust upward.

"We need to get rid of the rest of these clothes," he ground out in frustration.

He began to roll them over, and Sansa pulled away as she felt cold metal against her back – not Jaime's golden hand. Jaime chuckled, resting on his back again, with Sansa atop him. "I forgot about that."

"Where did you get it?" she asked, carefully touching the shining metal with her fingers. Swords had never interested her like they did Arya, but Sansa recognized the beauty of the weapon. She knew it must be very valuable. "There's a lion on it. Did Gerion give it to you?"

Jaime nodded. "Brightroar. The ancient greatsword of House Lannister."

She nodded in understanding. This was the sword lost so many years ago. The one Gerion left in search of. She turned her head towards Jaime. He didn't seem pleased to have something that his family had desired for so long. "Why do you look as though he's given you a plague?"

Jaime took a deep breath and sat up, keeping her on his lap. "It's not as if…I could swing it. Not now. It's a greatsword…it takes two hands. My father spent his whole life trying to find this. Or replace it. And now that it's been returned I can't even use it." He looked at her ruefully. "Some Lord of the Rock I turned out to be."

She sometimes forgot how much the loss of his sword hand had affected him. That it still affected him. He was comfortable with her seeing him without the golden hand covering his stump but he never allowed others to see. He still thinks he's broken or a cripple because of this. "No, Jaime," Sansa said, taking his chin and forcing him to look at her. "It's not about using the sword. Don't you see why Gerion gave it to you?"

"As a jape."

"Stop it. If…I would want Ice, House Stark's greatsword, though I'd have not a prayer of even picking it up. It's…" She looked down at the golden sword beside them. "It's symbolic. It belongs with the head of House Lannister." She kissed him softly. "It belongs with you. The Lion of Lannister. I happen to think you made a fine Lord of the Rock. And I know all off Lannisport would agree with me. You're the future of your house. You and…Tommen and Julianna." She put his hand on her belly. "And our new babe."

Jaime shook his head. "You sound like my father with all this talk of the future of House Lannister."

"I don't…I don't mean it the way he did. But family does matter. I know you believe that…after we've both lost so much." She worried that she wasn't explaining herself well, but Jaime pulled her against his chest and kissed the top of her head.

"Gerion suggested that we should try to return to Casterly Rock if…we could do so safely. He said that it was my birthright and my rightful place. He said I should not allow another Targaryen to take my inheritance. As the Mad King did when I joined his guard."

Sansa rested her head against his, unsure if she wanted to return to Westeros after all that had happened. All she had lost and suffered in Westeros. She was happy in Lys and the children were happy as well. Though, I do miss Mother. And Arya. We could see them again if we returned. Julianna could know her grandmother and her aunt.

"Would you want to return?" she asked hesitantly.

Jaime tilted his head up and kissed her. "We're not going anywhere for some time. It would be a death sentence to return now."

He knows I'm afraid. "But if it were safe…would you want to be Lord of the Rock again?"

"Right now, I only want you." He lifted her from his lap, putting her on the bed as she looked at him in question. Jaime only smiled to himself, picking up Brightroar from the bed. Sansa watched as he carried the huge golden sword to a dressing table and placed it there before slowly walking back towards her. Their discussion of the future and returning to Casterly Rock was forgotten as she saw his hand move to the laces of his breeches. She bit her lower lip in anticipation and finished removing her gown, leaning back against the pillows, naked as her nameday. Waiting for him.

He stopped beside the bed, his eyes on her body as his breeches slid to the ground and he stepped out of them. He was already hard and Sansa forced herself not to blush – as she always did – when she looked over his body. Admiring what was hers. She knew that she shouldn't allow Jaime's body and the pleasure he was about to bring her to distract her from their important conversation, but she couldn't seem to help herself. All thoughts of their future were forgotten when Jaime nudged her thighs apart and settled on top of her.

Later. We can discuss our future later, she thought, losing herself in his kisses and the feel of his hands and mouth roaming over her body.

…

I'll not allow the Queen to take Winterfell or to take us prisoner.

Arya stood beside the Blackfish atop the outer wall protecting Winterfell, peeking out between the battlements, watching for the first sight of the Dragon Queen's envoy. Their scouts had spotted the royal army marching towards Winterfell early that morning. Along with her three dragons flying overhead. The North will never bow down to her.

Lady Catelyn did not know Arya was with Ser Brynden watching for the Queen. If she found out, Arya knew she would be ordered down to sit with her mother and the other ladies in the Great Hall . She had Needle at her waist and the larger sword that Jaime had asked Gendry to make her was strapped to her back. If the Blackfish thought anything about Arya having armed herself with weapons, and donning breeches instead of a dress, he did not voice it aloud.

I won't allow the Queen to hurt us as she tried to hurt Jaime and Sansa. She'll not take Winterfell as she took Casterly Rock.

Arya hated the Queen. It's because of her that Jaime and Sansa had to leave. Arya thought about them and missed them every day. She missed practicing with Jaime in the mornings and sitting in front of the fire with Sansa while they played with Julianna. Despite herself, Arya had slowly come to see Jaime as a part of her family. She and Sansa had become close to one another – closer than they ever were before. She had a family again. Jaime, Sansa and Julianna were part of her family. And Daenerys Targaryen took them all away from her.

Arya reached over her shoulder and drew the sword from her back. Ser Brynden glanced over at her, and she could see that he was amused by the sight of her holding a sword that was slightly too large for her. Jaime had promised that he would have a sword made that she could grow into and use for the rest of her life.

"Jaime taught me to use it," she said defensively.

Ser Brynden nodded. "He's as good a person as any to teach you. I won't deny that Lannister is skilled with a sword. Have you finally named it?"

Arya looked down at the sword in her hands. When Ser Brynden had come for she and her mother, back at Casterly Rock, he had handed her the glimmering blade, saying that the boy in the forge wanted her to have it. Arya had asked where he was, and felt her heart drop when he told her that Gendry had left Casterly Rock with her sister and "the Kingslayer." Another reason to hate the Dragon Queen. Gendry had made her a beautiful sword. There was a snarling wolf on the pommel, and the silver of the sword shone bright. It was a bit heavy for her, but she knew it would be perfect in a few years, when she was grown.

"I did name it, Uncle," she insisted. "Nymeria." I wish Nymeria were here for the battle. And Jaime and Gendry, too.

"You chose well. Nymeria is a good name for a sword. Fierce. The name of a warior. But if you think your mother is going to allow you near the battlefield, you're wrong."

"But I know how to fight as well as anyone here. Syrio Forrel and Jaime both taught me."

He smiled kindly. The way adults always do when they are humoring me. "You've shown me your skill with a blade. I know you've been well-taught. Arya, your mother couldn't take losing another child. The Greatjon is leading the team on the search for Bran and Rickon, but..."

"But you think Theon's lying. You think Bran and Rickon are dead."

The Blackfish stared back out across the frozen land before them. "I think it's very convenient for Theon to offer your mother the hope of reuniting with her sons. It spared his life. He may be a prisoner, but he's alive and being treated far better than he was by the Boltons. Far better than that turncloak deserves. I do hope, for your sake and your mother's, that the boys are alive and that we find them." He but he doesn't believe they are alive. He doesn't believe we'll find them. He nodded his head towards the clearing before them. "Seems the Dragon bitch is here."

Arya looked ahead and saw the dragons flying just beyond the hilltop. I wonder if she'll let her dragons burn Winterfell. And us with it. Then she heard the marching in the distance. Uncle Blackfish sent a squire down into the castle, to alert the soldiers to prepare for a siege. They had taken Winterfell from the Boltons nearly two moons ago, and all of the North had come together to continue the rebuilding, in exchange for shelter. Arya wondered if there was anyone left in the North who was not staying at Winterfell.

She was glad to see that the North was not destroyed – that House Stark was not destroyed – but she hated how everyone treated her as if she were Lady of Winterfell. They all bowed down to her and tried to kiss her hand. That's Sansa, not me. Arya did not want to be the heir to Winterfell. She wanted her brothers back, so they could be the heirs and she could be left alone to do as she pleased. And she missed them. She had not seen her little brothers in more than three years.

"Will you the lead the siege, Uncle Blackfish?"

He smiled to himself, as he always did when she called him that. "Between the Boltons before us, and all we've done in the past two moons, the outer walls of the keep are rebuilt and strong – even taller than before. We have enough food to survive for a time…so long as we don't face dragonfire, she'll not get in and there may be no battle. I held Riverrun for more than six moons before Edmure surrendered to the Kingsl- to Jaime Lannister. We can do the same here."

Arya nodded, though part of her longed to see a battle. They watched silently as the Unsullied came into view, marching nearly 100 abreast and continuing into the distance for as far as Arya could see. They watched until her uncle grimly said that they should go down and speak with her mother and Edmure. When they climbed down, and entered the courtyard, Arya saw that every man was armed and ready for battle.

"Arya, what are you wearing?" her mother asked in exasperation, as soon as she saw her.

"We're about to battle the Unsullied. I can't wear a stupid dress."

"You are not battling anyone. You will remain here." There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. I know. Her mother shook her head and turned to Ser Brynden. "What do we do?"

"If she wishes to attack, let her. The walls will hold."

"But the dragons?" she whispered anxiously.

Arya climbed up onto some crates, so she could see out one of the small windows in the wall. The Unsullied had stopped marching far back in the clearing and put down their weapons. They're setting up camp. "They're not going to attack us," she called down from her perch.

"Arya, get down from there."

"I'm just looking. They stopped marching at the edge of the clearing and are raising their tents."
Arya waited for the dragons to circle Winterfell, as they had circled Casterly Rock, but they did not. The dragons remained back, circling the queen's army, but coming no closer.

"Arya, come down here this instant."

"There are three riders coming this way! They have a white flag."

Ser Brynden scoffed loudly. "She must think your memories are quite short. Isn't that the same trick she used to take Casterly Rock?"

"It's the Imp and…Ser Barristan and…I don't know the third man, though he looks familiar." Arya felt anger at the sight of Tyrion Lannister. He's the one who let the Queen take Casterly Rock. He didn't protect Jaime from her and he's his brother. "We'll not allow you in Imp. And one day, you'll pay for betraying Jaime!" she shouted down.

"Arya, that's enough!" her mother said, gripping her ankle and pulling her down off the crates.

"Lady Stark," the Imp called from outside the gate. "Please allow us to speak with you on behalf of the Queen. "

Her mother marched over to the small steel opening in the gate and slid it back, allowing her to see the visitors at the gate. "My daughter is right. Tell your Queen she needs to think of a new way to trick us. We already know that her peace banners are meaningless."

The Imp sounded embarrassed when he responded. "I've apologized to Jaime for that…I had no choice. It was that or Littlefinger would have made certain that the Rock was burned to the ground. With my brother in it. You must know what Baelish was capable of." Arya looked up and met her mother's eyes, wondering if they knew what they and Sansa had done to Petyr Baelish. Arya had been shocked to see that Sansa and her mother had killed him. She didn't think Sansa had that in her. But she was glad they did. Arya would have killed him herself if she had been there.

"What does she want, Lannister?" Ser Brynden bit out angrily. "Does she mean to take Winterfell?"

"The Queen has only come North so that you can swear fealty. So that all of her subjects may do so."

Arya saw her mother's eyes flash defiantly. "Why would I bow down to that woman after what she did to my daughter? Giving her to Littlefinger as if she were some plaything? No! She has a black heart and is just as mad as her father was."

"Lady Stark," Ser Barristan said gently, "I'd ask that you not judge her based upon decisions made while under the influence of Petyr Baelish. The Queen doesn't mean you any harm. She has no reason to."

"Does she not blame us for Jaime and Sansa's escape?"

"I believe she blames Lord Baelish for their escape. He seems to have disappeared that same night and not a word has been heard of him since. Jaime and Sansa are in the Free Cities, while you are here."

Her mother shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ser Barristan, but I cannot allow that woman in here. I have to think of my daughter's safety and…I don't trust her."

"Trust me, then," she heard the Imp say and her mother began to laugh.

"Trust you? After I took you captive and brought you to the Vale where my sister nearly took your life…why would you do anything except return the favor?"

"Jaime told me that you were taken in by Littlefinger as well. That he was the one who sent you in my direction, looking for vengeance. There's been enough death, don't you agree, Lady Stark?" Her mother didn't respond, but she didn't shut the opening in the gate closed either. The Imp began speaking again, this time in a much lower voice, though Arya could still hear him. "It was I who helped Jaime and your daughter escape the Rock. You can trust me. The Queen knows that the North will never submit to her reign if she harms you or your daughter. Unlike the Mad King, Daenerys does not wish to reign over fire and ashes." A pleading tone crept into the Imp's voice. "Lady Stark, I beg of you. Meet with the Queen."

"On my honor, Lady Stark," Ser Barristan spoke, "And on all the regard I held for your late husband, I swear to you that no harm will come to anyone here. And when we leave, Winterfell will remain yours."

Her mother sighed and looked down at Arya. "Uncle," she said, looking to Ser Brynden, "I want men stationed atop every tower, and atop the castle walls. If the Queen or her men move even one step closer while these men are inside…lose the arrows and consider it an act of war." She glanced back at Ser Barristan and the Imp.

"The Queen may enter…alone. Her men and her dragons stay behind."

…

Thank you all for continuing to read. Over 1500 reviews…so incredible how you have embraced this story and Jaime & Sansa.

Next chapter: Jon Snow makes a surprising discovery