Chapter Text
Jamie arrived with only one thing in mind – to take Sansa Stark back to her mother. Instead, Tywin had informed him that both he and Tyrion would both be married before the end of the day.
“Marriage? I’m part of the Kingsguard. And just who is my intended?” Tywin looked at the stump where his hand had once been and Jamie dropped it from view. It was enough that Cersei had turned him away and now this. He didn’t want to play the game…there was one mission and he planned on sticking to it.
“Margaery Tyrell.” He thought of the beautiful girl but she was just that, a girl that had already been married once to Renly Barratheon. Jaime grinned at the thought, people talked and he had heard enough about Margaery to know that she was all wrong. No, he would stand up to his father and would deal with whatever came next. The Others take him for he would take a stand for once against Tywin.
“I won’t do it,” he replied in a flat tone that made Tywin set his jaw. He could see the anger in his father’s eyes for the first time. The embers were there and a small victory was upon him now. Yes, Jaime was going to win this small battle just as he had all those years before. Footsteps approaching caused them both to turn,
“Won’t do what, dear brother?” They both turned to see Tyrion walking into the Throne room as silent as a mouse. Tywin looked at Jaime and without talking they both sent each other the same thought.
“Well, we had a problem and now…we have a solution.”
Jamie Lannister was in a fine mess. He had turned down marriage to Margaery hoping to walk away easily and instead found himself minutes from being married to Sansa Stark with Joffrey officiating the ceremony. The entire event had attracted an audience since it wasn’t often for a double wedding to occur. Tyrion and Margaery had gone first. They said the words and there had been the exchange of cloaks. Jamie could see Margaery flirting with Joffrey right in front of her new husband, oh how he wanted to tell her that she had been spared his unusual behavior. Jamie shook his head and wondered if maybe Tommen and Myrcella had been the only good children that he had produced with Cersei. He pushed it out of his head, those were Robert’s children. They would never be his, even when he looked upon them with a guarded gaze. Jaime turned his attentions toward the red-haired beauty standing beside him. She was a near copy of a young Catelyn Stark, she turned to look at him with her ice blue eyes and made an attempt to smile at him. Even after losing her family, she still managed to keep up her pleasantries. Everything with her had been, “Ser” or “If it pleases your grace.” Even when he could see the fresh bruise fading from her skin, Jaime would find out who struck her. She wore a fine dress and her hair was plaited just the way the girls here in the South wore their hair. He would change that once they said their vows. She was from the North and should not hide who she was, where were these thoughts of defiance coming from? He was still in his gold armor but his white cloak had been replaced with the one to represent his house.
There was something about her that stirred feelings deep inside of him. It wasn’t just that his heart had been smashed to pieces by Cersei. He had tried to be with other women but it never worked – his heart belonged to Cersei as he had always thought it would be until their last breath. It should all be over now, he was doing a duty all the while trying to figure a way out of it and yet he was attracted to this girl. How old was she again? Gods, he could be her father. He shouldn’t be nervous and yet, he felt as though he could face down an entire army before this moment. Jamie took hold of her hand and stepped forward when they were summoned. He heard Sansa suck in her breath, Jamie stopped and leaned in her ear for only her to hear,
“I’ll take you home, Sansa.” And just like that he saw there was something that awoke in her. Their eyes locked and he knew in that moment they would never be separated. Her soft delicate fingers took hold of his golden hand, he felt it come alive in her grasp. Some had mentioned he would have phantom feelings there but he could feel the warmth of her hand from the palm to the very tips. He turned to look at Joffrey, Tywin and finally Cersei with a knowing smile. They had no idea of the alliance they had created.
When it was over and they sat at the wedding feast surrounded by all those that had bent the knee to the King, he looked around the room until his eyes settled on his lovely little wife. Since he had spoken, Sansa had come to life. He could see that she was looking at things with wonder and practically jumping out of her skin. Jaime had pushed away the honeyed milk that was brought for her to drink and instead suggested wine. Lots of wine. There was a bedding but it would not be this night. The blade in his boot would calm the tongues. After all the drink he had himself, it would be a miracle if he could perform at all. Jaime looked at Sansa when she curled her arm around his, he smiled down at her,
“When will we go?” Her voice was small but strong that he could hear her even with the music and talk all around them.
“Soon.” Jaime could feel his twin’s penetrating gaze on them now. Cersei shared more than just a womb, they had shared so much but when he learned of all the men she had taken to her bed…something had broken. Sansa Stark would be his answer to Cersei for breaking his soul…no, his entire being. Even if his answer was sitting beside him turning green and ready to pass out from the wine she drank.
“I don’t feel so well.” Jaime nodded and pulled her into his arms, sweeping her away before anyone could fully notice. How could they? Margaery was at the other end of the table enchanting them with her tales of Highgarden. Tyrion watched the girl the way he had all those nights ago on the King’s Road. He inwardly laughed at the idea that his brother was likely falling for a highborn girl, which meant that she was likely a dirty whore beneath all the layers of courtesies and manners.
“Where are we going?” He walked along the dark corridors to his chamber where it would be quieter and without the dramatics that were likely going on. There would be no bedding ceremony and he wasn’t keen on the idea that someone else stripped his wife or that the King sometimes took his rights. The idea of a green boy putting his hands on his wife angered him. Jaime was aware of the sick games that the King played and had heard a few tales to make anyone’s hair curl on end. Someone had forgotten to tell Joffrey that no man raised a hand to a woman. Slipping into his bedchamber, he could see that someone had lit a fire and a fresh gown had been laid out on the bed for her. Who had suspected them to come here?
“I sent your squire away,” her voice was sharp, turning with Sansa dozing in his arms, Jaime turned to see green eyes staring back at him. Sometimes it felt as if she were a mirror and other times like now, he felt like it was someone else staring back at him that he did not know.
“You knew we would come here.” She stepped from the shadows, her hair loose and plaited in places. Her shoulders were set back and her gait was stiff from the gown she wore. The material was heavy and it made her movements mechanical. It was different to the style that his wife now wore.
“She’s still a girl and wine goes to their head quite quickly. The way you kept pushing the cups on her, it is a miracle you weren’t here sooner. Is this how you will do it then? When she’s drunk? I suppose it will be easy for you since she won’t comment on your hand and stare at it all bandaged up. She won’t have to wonder if you will touch her…”
“That’s enough! Leave!” Cersei didn’t wince from his harsh tone with her. Her eyes were fixed on him with the girl in his arms.
“You could have walked away from this,” her voice was sharp. He shook his head,
“I made a promise.” His grip on Sansa tightened, the girl began to stir.
“Promises and vows…ha, you are such a joke. Don’t cut yourself, Father expects a babe in her within a fortnight. I’m sure Tyrion has already fulfilled his duty with Margaery. You can do this, Jaime…just pretend she is me.” Jaime scoffed at her, there was nothing he could respond with; she melted back into the shadows and left them.
He awoke to the mid-morning sun in his face. Turning his head, he could see that she slept tangled in the sheets and her limbs wrapped around him. She’s all Tully, he thought and traced a finger down her milky white skin down her spine. He thought about how he had gone to cut his hand and the cry she made when the blood pooled in the palm of his good hand. This girl of six and ten begged him not to hurt himself for her. Those large blue eyes pleaded with him to be gentle. And he had been, there was nothing left unsaid but he refused to spend himself inside her. It was enough that he had taken her maidenhead. It was not his intent to send her home with a babe in her belly. Jaime looked for his golden hand but could not find it beside the bed table. Where in seven hells was it? He pulled back the covers and saw that it had come off in the night and was nestled around her breast. Jaime moved back down and covered their bodies, for the first time in a long while, he would stay where he was. Sansa. Sansa was a Lannister now. He turned to see the scars on her skin, there would be hell to pay for the person that had done this. He would flay them if need be. “I’ll have their heads,” he thought, “for her.”