authorsnote: edited 18/07.

honestly this is one of my fav fics to write, so many ups and downs, so much tension! ahh, I do love a good slowburn, do you? for me it is my fav.

anywho, pls enjoy, lemme know if you do (or don't! I always take constructive criticism, as long as it's not just 'u suck, write better' yes I legit got that once).

songrecs: fight song - rachel patten

He wasn't sure if minutes passed or hours, but Sansa continued to clutch him, refusing to let go, sobbing into his chest, holding onto him, as though afraid to release him. He would not be the first to break the embrace, not when he knew she needed this comfort, needed him, he would be there as she needed him.

And need him she did, and that made him feel a little warm, he couldn't remember the last time someone had needed him. Tyrion perhaps? To defend him? But no, Tyrion's wit and words were his defence, and often more effective than his brother charging in with a sword. Cersei? She had never needed him, not really, and he had always wanted to be needed by her, and she never had. His father? No, his father saw his children as useful tools in furthering his dynasty but little more. It had been a while since someone had needed him, and now someone did, and he wouldn't let them down.

Still, he knew once she stopped crying and regained her composure, she'd pull away from him, embarrassed at her actions and annoyed at herself for falling into his arms. Jaime prided himself on his ability to read people, to understand their motivations, their plans, and desires. He need only look into someone's eyes or spend a few seconds analysing their body language before he knew the make of them. He and Sansa Stark may be strangers, but he knew enough about her by reading her, and he knew she still mistrusted him, hated him even, and only clung to him out of a need for safety and comfort.

And he was right. A few more minutes passed, and her sobs began to subside, turning first to something akin to hiccups and then little sniffles before she pulled herself away from his chest. She glanced at him once, those deep blue eyes still shining with tears, as they met his green gaze. He felt she was looking into him for a minute, felt as though that gaze could pierce his soul … it was an odd feeling, and not an entirely welcome one before she dropped her gaze and turned away, pulling away as he had guessed.

He didn't push her though, and he knew he'd be a cruel man if he mocked her now. Instead he nodded to himself before turning back into the forest, he needed to get their supper.

He wasn't too worried about leaving her again, he wouldn't be going as far, and the man had been a lone bandit by the looks of it. Still he hurried, fast on his feet and was back in under a minute, dinner in hand. She had her back to him as he returned but he could see she was filing up their water skins, a kindness he hadn't expected.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice was gentle, as kind as it could be, but he knew it didn't offer the comfort she likely craved.

"Yes, I'm fine" She said, her voice controlled, and yet he could hear the thickness of her unshed tears, the fear that still lingered in her voice was evident.

He found himself rolling his eyes then, he hated courtesies and formalities, had since a young child, they made him want to rip his golden locks out, and so he couldn't stop what he said next.

"You don't have to chirp empty platitudes anymore Sansa" He said with a roll of his eyes, annoyance spiking him that even though he knew she had no reason to trust him he had hoped she was becoming more comfortable, and again he hated courtesies. "Say what you mean or don't say anything" He knew it was harsh to say, but what else could he say at this point? He couldn't stand the court civilities, the lies, and the deception. Jaime had never wanted to be involved in any of that, had refused to be and though he could hardly blame Sansa for having walls of ice around her, it didn't annoy him any less.

"Then I shall stay quiet" She spoke, her voice hard now, the sound of tears gone.

"Better than what I'm hearing now" He said, his tone hard too, unable to stop the words leaving his lips, his annoyance clear.

Silence fell then, but just for a moment, a mere moment of quiet, which he expected to stretch for longer. He did not expect what came next, even after years of being in tense situations, of reading people and understanding them, he did not expect what came next.

What came next was Sansa Stark finally breaking.

"What would you like me to say then Ser?!" She said, her tone growing harsh, emotion now roaring behind her words. Part of him wanted to snap back at her, but the other part was relieved she seemed to be showing some level of emotion, even if such emotion was anger. Anger was better than nothing, and though he didn't wish to fight, knowing his temper was a lot worse than hers when kindled, it was better than the emptiness of before.

"I don't know my Lady" He shot back the formal title with a glare, as he looked across at her, and he took in her posture. She'd stood to her feet, her hands screwed into fists by her sides, her eyes cold, her entire body singing with the fury she had clearly been holding in. He knew he should back down, but he didn't want to, this anger, this fighting was better than the coldness and tension of before, he'd take fire over ice any day, "But anything better than you chirping your courtesies at me is an improvement in my eyes"

He knew it was cruel, stoking a fight like this, but it was better than the silence.

"So, you want me to yell?" She said, her voice rising a little, both in volume and pitch, he could tell ... she was oddly liking this too, a chance to get her anger out, to voice her annoyance and finally speak her mind. "Want me to scream at you? To say all of the things I think of you no matter how awful?" She said, taking a step toward him, all fear towards him gone it seemed as she spoke, "Is that you want me from me Ser?!"

He found his own temper rearing, and soon he was striding toward her too, his own temper an ugly, uncaged demon that came and went in a flash of red that was all he could see, as he walked towards a now trembling Sansa Stark, stopping barely short of colliding with her, towering over her as he spoke. "I want anything other than your emptiness! Acting like a voiceless dove!" He said, and then as his temper began to calm, as it often did with his hot flashes of anger, he turned unkind, not even meaning too, the words leaving him without thought, mocking and sarcastic and cruel, "It is dreadfully boring to hear you chirp little bird"

He'd thought the unexpected was her exploding at him, but that was nothing compared to what came next.

Perhaps it was because of his rage, or the fact he never expected Sansa Stark to get violent with him, but that was how he missed her hand rising, and he first felt the sharp sting of a slap across his cheek before he saw it. He didn't stumble back, or curse, he'd taken far worse blows than the fragile hand of the Stark girl. But it left a red stain, like red wine spilled on snow, and he only managed to take a breath before he turned back to her, as she rose her hand again, clearly intent on hurting him as much as possible.

This time he caught her hand, and then the other in the firm grasp of his hands circling her wrists. All anger seemed to drain from her, as he effectively trapped her, his hands biting into her wrists, his own anger rearing up again. He glared down at her and had to force himself to take several deep breaths. She may have pissed him off, she may have forced his temper to the surface, but he didn't want to hurt her.

No, he didn't want to hurt her, and he knew if he took another move, he would, and so he forced himself to calm down. But clearly the anger draining from his face as he calmed down, was the opportunity Lady Stark had been hoping for. She pulled back, her hands struggling against his, but his grip did not relent, in fact, a cold laugh left his lips as she attempted to struggle away from him, and he found himself quirking his eyebrow in response to her, mocking again. "My Lady, you'll never get away from me if I don't want you too" He said unapologetically, and he watched the anger in her face return ten-fold, evidently that had been the wrong thing to say.

She couldn't shake him off, and so she began to use her hands, pummelling them into his chest, small fists smacking into him that caused him no pain, no it was her words that followed that hurt more. "That's it with you Lannister's isn't it!" She shrieked at him, all walls and emotionless disposition gone as she fought against him. "I have been trapped for months! And you wonder why I chirp like a voiceless bird?!" She squealed out, her anger causing her voice to hitch, "It was to protect myself, from your vicious nephew, your pernicious sister, and your evil father!" She screamed at him, "All intent on making my life hell if I slipped up!" She said, still smacking into him, but he didn't stop her, no.

All anger was gone from him now, his temper rising and calming like the wash of a tide, but he knew she needed this, she needed to let out the harsh words and the pathetic blows. She needed this eruption now she was free from his family … and besides as much as her words stung, they weren't entirely wrong. He'd had his flash of temper; she was entitled to hers.

"My life has been hell! I ran, knowing the risks, knowing how dangerous it would be!" She screamed at him, her eyes finally meeting his gaze, tears now streaming down her cheeks again as she continued to push against him, her fists smacking into him, and yet he only held onto her wrists, mitigating the damage, but letting her continue. They both knew if he had wanted to stop her, he could have, but he let her continue, which seemed to be the right thing as she was finally able to use her voice for something other than her courtesies and her formalities.

"I knew how dangerous it would be! And yet it was better than being stuck in King's Landing!' She screamed, her entire face red now, "With your horrible family!" She said, shaking her head, "Your father, so cold and terrible, your sister, so cruel and hurtful! And your … your… bastard spawn!" She screamed at him.

It was clear she had hesitated on those words for a reason, and Jaime had to say he was shocked that she had said them at all. Those were dangerous words, extremely dangerous, and evidently, she knew it as she stopped fighting, the colour draining from her face in an instant, her eyes growing wide with fear rather than anger. He even released her wrists, and she quickly took a step back, her hands now shaking, it was clear she knew; she had crossed a line.

"I… I... Ser Jaime, I'm…I'm so sorry" She stumbled out, clearly worried now, as she should be.

He shook his head in response, however. Why should she be sorry? She was right after all … and she was right. Still it was a shock to hear. "You're not wrong" Was all he said, looking down at her, his emerald Lannister green, meeting her sapphire Tully blue. "But I wouldn't say that in front of anyone else" The warning was clear in his tone and she nodded her head immediately in response. He nodded his head too … there was clearly nothing left to be said, except she found one more thing to say, that made him smile, just a little.

"I do exclude your brother from that" She said, her voice gentle now, but her gaze no longer meeting his, her eyes dutifully trained on the floor. "Tyrion was always kind to me" She said, "And Tommen of course is just a boy" She said, and he nodded back, and the matter was dropped.

"I'll... cook the rabbit" Was all that followed as he turned away to pick it up for the third time, and then began to gather wood for the fire. The silence now was as tense as before, but for a different reason, and neither spoke for hours as they ate, drank their water, and soon fell asleep, closer than the night before yes, but he knew she barely slept, and neither did he.

"Any news?"

The view from the window was beautiful, it looked over miles and miles of luscious land, rolling hills, farms, lakes, and rivers, and yet they were turning away from it, leaving it all behind, leaving the South behind.

Their eyes were trained North now, their time in the South over … for now. They were heading home, where they belonged, and yet they were leaving so much behind, it didn't feel right to leave, no matter how important it was.

"No, your Grace" The messenger said, voice quiet, clearly worried about bringing such disappointing words. "Our spies that got into Kings Landing learned two things, the first, Lady Arya went missing months ago, and more recently so has Lady Sansa" He said, and then turned on his heel and left, no more news to bring, leaving the men in charge to their strategies and war talk.

"I don't know which is worse" Robb said, pulling his graze from the window. He stood in a makeshift war room, at the highest tower of the Twin's, courtesy of his new father-in-law. Walder Frey had handed over the room with a smile, much more amenable now a Frey was the Queen in the North. "My sisters stuck in the lion's den, or now roaming the countryside alone" He said, his voice was hard.

Only family were at this meeting, rather than his usual war council. Only his mother, grand uncle, uncle stood in this meeting, this was a matter for family, a private matter, especially as his mother wept into his Uncle Bryden's shoulder, at the news of her daughters, for it was not good news.

"Well it does strengthen our position" His Uncle Edmure said awkwardly but Robb nodded he was right, as was his next statement, "But it's worse for them I believe, to be alone in the country, I'm not sure how they could survive alone"

"I know" Was all Robb said back, turning away from them all, back to the window, the pretty view of the South, where his sisters were … somewhere, he hoped. His thoughts were racing, regret and guilt bubbled in his stomach, why hadn't they aided Stannis? Taken Kings Landing and rescued his family? Why had he been so stubborn? So sure, they didn't need help and had agreed that they should not be subjugated to southern rule. He still agreed with that, but he'd give up his crown in an instant if it gave him his sisters back. But it was too late for that now.

Why hadn't he tried to negotiate? To trade Ser Jaime for his sisters, instead of stalling, allowing the Kingslayer to escape thanks to his mother's foolish plan. He had made so many wrong moves, so many errors. They may have won every battle, but they were losing the war.

He hoped his sisters were alright, but he knew they were in grave danger, alone and unaided, away from home. He just hoped they were okay and hadn't joined father in death. Tears pooled in his eyes and he took a deep breath and gritted his teeth, it would not do for a King to cry.

one of his daughters was Queen in the North. "My sisters stuck with the Lannister's, or now roaming the countryside alone" He said, his voice hard. Only he, his Mother, Grand Uncle and Uncle stood in this meeting. This was a matter of family, a matter of privacy, especially as his Mother wept into his Uncle Bryden's shoulder - this news was not good news.

"All we can hope is that..." He began but then the door swung open, shoved, and he turned, ready to take out his anger, his guilt, his shame on anyone! He knew that wasn't the way a King acted, but he felt so angry, and he had told servants to let no one cross the doorway!

Still, he forced himself to remain calm if they were interrupting it must be important.

And important it was.

The messenger hurried inside but was shoved aside by a big hulking man behind him, with a scarred face and a nasty expression. Robb immediately recognised him, and he went to grab a dagger from his desk before he saw who stood behind him, peeking out, and he gasped.

"Arya!" His mother cried out, shoving her way forward to her youngest daughter. A choked sound left Robb's lips and he too ran forward. How was this possible? How had she survived?! How was she here?!

"Mother! Robb!" She cried out, clutching them as soon as they reached her. Her hair was hacked off, her clothes dirty and boyish and she hadn't bathed in weeks, but who cared? She was safe, alive, and Robb had to force himself to hold back tears, as his mother sobbed and eventually Arya did too. Instead he forced himself to stand, pull himself away from his sister for just a moment, he had a duty to do.

"Ser, I owe you a great debt for bringing my sister back alive and well, anything you ask of me is yours" He said, standing straight, he was much shorter than this man but he stood firm, thankfully he had managed to hold back his tears.

"I want Tywin fucking Lannister's head on a spike" He spat out, "And I'm no Ser, I'm Sandor Clegane, and you can pay me back for finding your sister by helping me kill my cunt of a brother" He said, and Robb could only nod his head and hold out his arm.

"You have my word" He said simply, and Sandor nodded, grabbing the King's arm with a nod too. His grip was firm but Robb did not flinch.

Well now they had one sister back ... but now they had to go North, liberate Winterfell, prepare their armies, and then ... then they would find Sansa. Robb hated leaving her behind, and yet he had thought Arya dead when he had heard the news not ten minutes earlier, perhaps that meant hope for Sansa too.

Perhaps she was okay, he hoped she was, and he vowed to find her as soon as he could.

The next morning continued on as the night before had, in complete silence.

Sansa honestly couldn't find it in herself to even say good morning, and Jaime was evidently happy to continue on in silence. All Sansa could think of was the argument the night before, the last parts running over in her mind time and time again. She couldn't believe she'd said such a thing! Admitting to knowing such sensitive information! She cringed at herself every time she replayed that part in her mind! How could she have been so stupid? She had put herself in a horrendous position! Never mind the horrible words she had spat at him, but revealing something so sensitive? She was either idiotic or too brave for her own good, and she knew she wasn't the latter.

She had never been truly brave, not the way her siblings had, Robb, Jon, Arya, Bran, even Rickon had been braver than her.

Now all she could feel was fear, that Ser Jaime would have no choice but to kill her, to keep her quiet. She knew that is what Tywin would have done, or Cersei, and though she knew Ser Jaime didn't have the ambition of the other Lannister's, and could admit to herself that he wasn't quite as awful as his sister and father, she knew he would protect them, and knowing what she knew ... another shiver left her as she drank some water, and adjusted her cloak.

Fear was running through her veins thicker than her blood, she felt sick with worry, and her hands were shaking as she made her way to the horse. They had eaten the rest of the rabbit this morning, and now were ready to make a move. Though Sansa doubted she'd live until the next morning. A little squeak left her lips at such a thought and Ser Jaime shot her an odd look, but she averted her gaze, and instead allowed him to help her onto the horse without protest, her eyes trained down, she had plans to make.

She would have to escape again clearly that was what she'd need to do if she wished to live! And wish she did. She'd need to flee as soon as possible, for who knew when he'd do it?! She would need to run when the first opportunity came, she had no choice now. She nodded her head to herself then, that was the only way forward.

Oddly, she had become used to Ser Jaime, had felt safer around him, and knew the rest of her journey would be more frightening than before, and yet ... yet if this was the only way, then so be it. She felt an odd twinge at being without him, he had kept her safe, and now she would be alone again, but what choice did she have?

"Sansa, stop" His voice made her jump, and she jerked in the seat, almost falling off the horse, until he grabbed her by the waist to steady her, and then vaulted himself up to sit behind her, those strong arms circling her once more ... trapping her.

"Stop what Ser?" She said, her voice barely a whisper, it felt as though she was continually having an internal panic attack since revealing what she knew to him, and she couldn't stop it. Her heart was pounding, eyes on the floor, hands shaking.

"Stop worrying about whatever it is you're worrying about" He said, and she almost felt him roll his eyes, "There is no need"

No need? What could he mean?! No need? She had revealed damning information to him! Of course, she was worried, any sane person would be! She knew Ser Jaime worried about little, but sometimes worry was important. "I ... I can't help it"

"Okay" He said simply, "Then let me guess, you're worrying about what you revealed to me yesterday" He said simply, and she cringed at his very correct guess, "Exactly, so, you don't need to worry" He said, flicking the reins, bringing the horse forward, "It's hardly a locked down secret nowadays, and besides, I made a vow, I promise I will not hurt you" He said, and she simply nodded her head, not truly believing him.

But evidently that wasn't good enough for him.

His hands moved up, and she squealed, thinking this was it, this was the moment. This was it! And so her mind clouded with worry, unable to think properly, she did the only thing she could, she threw herself off the horse, breaking through his grasp, and falling to the floor with a gasp, and a strangled cry as the wind was knocked out of her leaving her lips, her entire body curling into itself.

God it hurt, she knew she hadn't injured anything, but she could feel the wind knocked out of her, and her back and side had been jolted with pain. A small moan left her lips, though her breath still failed her.

"Sansa!" She heard him shout, and then she heard him land down beside her, and then crouch down, putting a hand under her chin, pulling her gaze to his. "Are you alright?" He asked, his wide alight with worry. Why was he worried?! He was going to kill her, why would he worry?! And yet she took in his expression, his genuine look of concern ... why would he be concerned if he were going to hurt her? His green eyes were filled with worry, and as she struggled to regain her breath, she realised ... in her anxiety ridden state, she'd gotten it all wrong.

"You're not going to kill me?" She gasped out, her eyes wide, and filling with tears once more. She hadn't meant to be so blunt, and yet it was a struggle to speak as she caught her breath, now was not the time for empty words or courtesies. Now was the time for understanding his motives, as currently her mind was so scrambled with anxiety, she had no idea what they could be.

"No!" He said in disgust, shocked at her words, and Sansa found for the first time in hours the puncturing sense of relief, and she almost laughed, as the tension left her shoulders, and she curled further in on herself, a sob of relief leaving her lips, the reality that he wouldn't hurt her crashing over her in utter, bone numbing relief, in an utter sense of a wave crashing over her, making her able to truly breathe again.

"That was what you thought?" He asked, as he moved forward, grabbing her shoulders, and forcing her to sit up, which she found did help as she took deep breathes to get over the feeling of being winded. She could only nod her head, and he shook his, his eyes rolling once more, a look of exasperation on his features, a flickering of hurt that only lasted a second, followed by more exasperation. The tension continued to drain from her, and honestly she felt a little faint with how relieved she felt, so much so she found herself involuntarily leaning forward, moving to rest her head on his chest, not in a comforting manner, but simply leaning on him, though she supposed there was some comfort in that.

There was silence for a moment before he spoke again, "I know you don't trust me, and I don't blame you for that, but I intend to get you home, no matter what, and I am never going to hurt you Sansa, never, that I can promise" He said, his voice surprisingly gentle now, and she found herself leaning back to look at him again, her eyes widening and meeting his, the look of genuine concern in his eyes so compelling, so ... trustworthy, did she dare to hope?

"You promise?" She asked gently, the first sign of any level of trust between them, it was a first step, a tentative one, but one all the same.

"I promise" He said simply and nodded, as put his hand on the back of her neck and pulled her forward once more so she could rest on him again. But he too leaned on her, his head resting atop hers. She found it ...oddly comforting, and then the tears began, streaming down her cheeks, as she allowed herself to relax, truly relax, for the first time since she'd left King's Landing.

"I'm going home" She choked out, the relief mixed with other emotions now, joy, disbelief, and gratitude, gratitude for Jaime, as she moved her hands to clutch at him as she had the night before, but this time without holding anything back, this time she gave herself to his embrace completely, as his other arm wrapped around her back, steadying her, holding her close.

"Yes Sansa, you're going home" Was all he could say, and then they held onto one another for what felt like an eternity, the two of them clutching each other, barely trusting, and yet both comforted and relieved, both for different reasons, and yet ... yet, it was right, it was enough.

And even as the sky began to pour down upon them, they didn't move. The Northern girl in the arms of the Southern night, didn't move, not for a while, a long while.

so thoughts?

yeaaas sansa being a badass b, honestly I cheered when she stood up to jaime! just me?

this was kind of a breakthrough chapter for our couple, but much more development to come!

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speak soon