Fic: Oathbreaker, for misstopia
Recipient:misstopia
Title: Oathbreaker
Author: snowbryneich
Rating: R
Pairing:Jaime/Sansa
Word Count: 3000 ~
Summary: Sansa is matched to a different Lannister to claim Winterfell.
Warning: My timeline might be worse than GRRM's to make this AU work. Also definite consent issues.
When Sansa in a moment of sheer desperation had accepted Tyrion Lannister's offer to end their farce of a wedding she could never have predicted this. He had said they would wed her to some other Lannister and, though they were all as bad as another, she had grasped at his words and refused him. She had not thought it would earn her a cripple as a bridegroom instead of a dwarf. But that day in the sept, Ser Jaime had looked more a corpse than anything else and then they had taken him away. Sansa had been glad of it and wondered if she might end up like Margaery - an unbedded widow. She didn't even care that Ser Jaime was not as handsome as the knight she'd glimpsed at Winterfell and seen ride in the Hand's tourney and short a sword hand. He was a Lannister; that was all that mattered. It was a foolish thought of course, there were no shortage of Lannisters to wed her to if Ser Jaime should perish.
For a long time she had thought that might be the case. She did not see him after the ceremony - there had been no question of an bedding while he battled the recurring infections from his lost hand. There had not even been a wedding feast as he was so ill - Sansa was glad they had not made her sit through a mockery of one alone. When she received news of his recovery, she attended on him as was proper. At his bedside she met the Queen leaving. Cersei Lannister shot her a venomous look even as Sansa curtsied and said not a word. Sansa did not understand it - Cersei had been distraught at the wedding but Sansa had thought it had been because Ser Jaime was so ill. Sansa had thought it would serve Cersei right to lose a brother; Sansa had lost all her family. Robb might yet win but she was bound to Jaime Lannister in the eyes of the gods and men and he no longer seemed like he might die.
Her marriage seemed to change little, not even with Ser Jaime's recovery. He had spoken not two words to her and he glared as much as Cersei. She had heard him once arguing with Tyrion but that had only made matters worse. “I am a knight of the Kingsguard,” he'd insisted and she knew that he was not, though this clearly showed he was displeased with his dismissal. He'd been released much like Ser Barristan and she certainly could not bring herself to care if he did not get what he wanted. But now that he was well enough things were bound to change and she returned from the godswood one day to find maids packing her things. They'd been given new rooms in the Maidenvault.
The first night they were alone together Jaime did not come to bed and she lay awake for a long time waiting for him. She was awoken at first light by the sensation she was not alone. Her husband lay beside her on top of the covers fully dressed and stinking of wine. Sansa fled the bed and that set the pattern of their nights. Sansa's days were much the same as ever. Cersei gave her no more advice - which was no loss - Joffrey mocked her whenever he addressed her as aunt, and her lord husband's former comrades were no longer permitted to strike her. Ser Dontos bade her bide her time and she tried.. But then he angered Joffrey again when his capers weren't amusing enough and died with a crossbow bolt in his guts. Sansa mourned more for her lost chance of home than she did for her Florian and wept bitter tears alone in the night before Jaime stumbled drunkenly to bed. Her last chance of escape gone and she was trapped surrounded by Lannisters, her one solace that her lord husband barely noticed her.
She had not reckoned with being summoned before her goodfather. She did not like Lord Tywin Lannister and she misliked this summons even more. Even Joffrey was scared of him, though he would never admit, and Sansa had no-one and nothing if she had somehow displeased him or if he had learnt of Ser Dontos' plans - the fool was dead, she would take the full blame for that. She fancied his anger would be much worse than Joffrey's and as she followed the servant who had brought her his message, she thought of the Hound's words. Just give him what he wants, she thought, but what would he want. She curtsied as deeply to Lord Tywin as she would to the King and could not meet his cold green eyes.
“Lady Sansa,” he said coolly offering her a seat, which she took with a murmured courtesy. “How is my son?” For a moment she wondered why he was asking her and then reminded herself that she was Ser Jaime's wife. It was easy enough to forget when her lord husband ignored the fact of their marriage so thoroughly.
“Ser Jaime is distraught,” she said finally - she did not dare lie to Lord Tywin and she did not think it was any secret how Ser Jaime felt. “He wished to serve His Grace further and mourns the loss of his duties.” That was true enough and she did not think she could be blamed for it.
“Ser Jaime has other duties,” Lord Tywin told her. “To House Lannister.” He paused and after a moment added, “And to you.” This was so clearly an afterthought and Sansa kept quiet that she wanted no part of Jaime's duty to her. Lord Tywin would not care and she would only cause further trouble for herself.
“I had asked my daughter to speak to you,” Lord Tywin said. “But she refused. Would you know the reason why?” For a moment Sansa did not know if he was asking her if she knew or asking if she would know it from him and whatever it was she did not know or want to.
“Queen Cersei has always been very kind to me,” Sansa said. “But I am no longer to marry His Grace, her son, and she has Lady Margaery to advise now.” Though Sansa could not see why she would defy Lord Tywin. But why should she care what reason Cersei had.
There was a long moment where her goodfather looked her over and she felt very small under his cold hard gaze. “You have not been a proper wife to Ser Jaime,” he stated plainly and Sansa felt herself flush that he knew and would speak of it to her. “That situation will cease. Immediately.” Sansa stared then, though her face was so hot she felt near burned. She could not defy him out loud, but she could not do what he said. She did not know how to - Ser Jaime could not be less interested in her.
Lord Tywin took her silence for impudence and his gaze darkened. “My lord,” she managed. “I try,” she felt her eyes well with tears and for a moment resented Ser Jaime for something that until then she'd been grateful for.
“If you are with child or have given my son an heir when the war ends,” Tywin told her, “I will spare your lady mother.” Sansa's shock must have shown - her mother was gently born and should have been spared regardless. But then she thought of what Cersei had said on the night of the Battle of Blackwater. She wanted to ask about Robb but knew no matter what Lord Tywin said that they would not spare him - not if he lost. Joffrey was King, not Tywin, and he wanted Robb dead. Lord Tywin was not finished, “If you are not a fit wife to my heir, I will speak to the High Septon.” Sansa may have thought that was a better solution if not for his next words. “Your next husband will be a man who is not so indulgent of your whims. One of my cousins, perhaps, who knows how to teach a disobedient girl her place.” Sansa near could not breathe - she did not expect fairness from the Lannisters but Ser Jaime barely looked at her let alone ordered her to his bed.
“I will try, my lord,” she said, near forcing the words out she was so shamed. He dismissed her and she fled back the chambers that she shared with Ser Jaime. He was not there as usual and Sansa was glad - it gave her some time to think of what she should do but no inkling of how to act on it.
She did not sleep that night - she knew Jaime came to bed late and if she knew nothing about bringing her husband to his duty, she could hardly do anything asleep. She felt naked in her shift and wondered if she should take it off but she did not think she could bear it. When Jaime stumbled in the first light was showing in the slits of the window and she did not think she could stay awake much longer.
His hair had grown back some, she hadn't noticed that before. He was repeating something angrily to himself and Sansa did not think she had ever seen him in such a temper. It reminded her of Joffrey and she could not bear to approach him. He said something under his breath that she did not catch. “Have you had a pleasant evening, my lord?” she asked carefully.
“Drinking with Tyrion,” he slurred. “Go back to sleep.” He hesitated and stared as if wondering who she was. “Sansa,” he said after a long moment, “Go to sleep, I've no need of a wife right now.” He laughed bitterly. “Knights of the Kingsguard have no wives.”
He slumped in a chair still talking but not to her, not any more. He was muttering about the Targaryens and his cousin Lancel, he even had something to say about one of his sworn brothers and Moonboy the fool but she did not understand him. So she ignored it.
She slipped out of bed after a long moment of getting her nerve up. “Let me help you with your clothing, my lord” she said, her cheeks pink. He sat still as she undid his doublet and his tunic and pulled them over his head. He was covered in bruises and she wondered what from - he had been in King's Landing long enough to heal from whatever had happened to him on the journey. She lost whatever nerve she had when he suddenly grabbed her hand and drawled, “Not going to unfasten my breeches then?”
Sansa struggled not to pull her hand away. “As my lord likes,” she said quietly. Jaime pulled a face and released her hand. Sansa swallowed hard, looked away from him and carefully began to unfasten his breeches.
“You have blue eyes,” Jaime said, which seemed incongruous and she nodded, her hands fumbling over the laces as she tried to think of her mother and not the threats Lord Tywin had issued.
“I do, my lord,” she said and, desperate and uncertain, she pushed her mouth against his. It was not like kissing Ser Dontos or the Hound and she realised after a moment it was because he wasn't kissing back. He laughed bitterly when she pulled away and blinked.
“It's seems I have an eager wife,” he said, his tone sour. “Get on the bed and be glad I'm drunk.” Sansa was, though she wondered if she should take her shift off but he hadn't said to so she got on the bed and waited. She closed her eyes but opened them again when he started to mutter.
“Lancel and Osmund Kettleblack and probably Moon Boy,” Jaime said again and she watched him walk towards the bed naked - he had stepped out of his breeches. He was well made if still gaunt as well as bruised. He did not seem ashamed of his nakedness and she thought he seemed very lion like as his hair glinted in the dawn light and his green eyes watched her still angry. He was handsome even so ill treated and she tried to be pleased with that, but she couldn't. He looked like Joffrey, only older, and she tried to hide her fear. He pulled the bed hangings closed as he joined her and she felt his weight on the bed though she could not see him. He repeated the phrase and she did not ask what he meant although she did not understand his words. It was all she could do to stay still.
It was dark enough now she did not have to close her eyes but she could not help but be tense. She did not know what would come next and he'd been angry, she worried he might hurt her - he was very like Joffrey. Perhaps he had always been foul tempered and that was really why he had killed the old mad king - in a fit of temper. She had always thought Joffrey more a lion than a stag. And if he could do that to a king what might he do to her - perhaps Tywin really could not marry her to someone worse.
She decided she might open her legs for him to try and stave off his temper and just as she did, he kissed her. His act clearly encouraged him and she felt his hand on her thigh, then something else brushed her and she realised it was the stump. She managed not to shudder but it was a close call. The fact that he pushed into her distracted her from that thought and she was relieved it did not hurt when she realised it was only his fingers working against her and pushing inside her. It made her gasp and squirm against him, horrified. Why would he do such a thing. But she did not have to wonder long before he moved over her and took her properly. It hurt where he pushed inside her and his weight slipped onto her until she could not move as he thrust into her and she bit her lip. Then he grunted, murmured a name, and it was done and he rolled off her just as she began to cry. After a long moment he touched her shoulder but it was with the stump and she did shudder this time. Jaime cursed and she felt him leave the bed. It was unwifely but she did not call him back. After a long moments of listening to him pacing, she dried her tears. “I did not mean - it was merely my maiden's gift, my lord. It pained me.”
Jaime didn't answer. When she peered out of the hangings the room was fully light and she pulled down her shift and got out of bed to help her husband dress. She briefly wondered who Brienne was - the name was familiar but she supposes she didn't really care who he thought of or might have bedded before. She wouldn't even care if he sired bastards and brought them home, she decided recklessly, as long as he gave her the child that might reunite her with her mother. She could not help the thought that it was wrong of him to make such a fuss about his lost position in the Kingsguard if he was betraying his vows but then she supposed what did it matter he was not chaste when he had already killed a king - his other vows were nothing to that.
Jaime only took his rights on her twice more after that. Both times he was drunk and both times he said the same name. Sansa had no idea how to encourage him other than letting him do as he pleased which did not seem to please him at all. And then she no longer cared if Jaime was pleased at all even it it were foolish to feel so. The news of her mother and Robb hit all the harder for the loss of hope that Lord Tywin had promised her. Another Lannister lie. She had no reason to wish for a child now, Lord Tywin could not give her back her mother and given that she was truly wedded and bedded he could not give her to someone else as a wife.
She kept her tears from her husband as best she could; her grief was the only thing that was her own. Though it was hard when Joffrey mocked her. He told her in detail how her brother and mother had died and laughed when her stomach rebelled in court before sending her away in disgrace. That was not the only time and when the maester finally told her it was mother's stomach, she wept even more. Her mother had told her it could happen the first time as it had for her parents with Robb. The thought of her family made the mother's stomach worse and she took to her bed. The maester must have told her lord husband though because he knew. He did not seem pleased but she supposed to him it was just another vow broken - knights of the Kingsguard did not sire children. And at first to Sansa it was less than that, something else the Lannisters had forced on her with their lies. She felt sick and tired and vulnerable, and Lord Tywin meant to send her to Casterly Rock so his grandchild could be born there. A poor reward when he had promised her her mother. But it took her away from Joffrey and his new bride.
It was on the journey when the child moved. At first she didn't even realise what it was, a strange fluttering beneath her heart. Cersei Lannister had hated her since the day Sansa had became her goodsister but she had given Sansa one true piece of advice. She did not love her husband but she would love her child. She might not be able to name her sons Brandon and Eddard. She would likely never be given a puppy but she would have a family that the Lannisters would not harm or take away from her. And somehow that might just be enough.
Title: Oathbreaker
Author: snowbryneich
Rating: R
Pairing:Jaime/Sansa
Word Count: 3000 ~
Summary: Sansa is matched to a different Lannister to claim Winterfell.
Warning: My timeline might be worse than GRRM's to make this AU work. Also definite consent issues.
When Sansa in a moment of sheer desperation had accepted Tyrion Lannister's offer to end their farce of a wedding she could never have predicted this. He had said they would wed her to some other Lannister and, though they were all as bad as another, she had grasped at his words and refused him. She had not thought it would earn her a cripple as a bridegroom instead of a dwarf. But that day in the sept, Ser Jaime had looked more a corpse than anything else and then they had taken him away. Sansa had been glad of it and wondered if she might end up like Margaery - an unbedded widow. She didn't even care that Ser Jaime was not as handsome as the knight she'd glimpsed at Winterfell and seen ride in the Hand's tourney and short a sword hand. He was a Lannister; that was all that mattered. It was a foolish thought of course, there were no shortage of Lannisters to wed her to if Ser Jaime should perish.
For a long time she had thought that might be the case. She did not see him after the ceremony - there had been no question of an bedding while he battled the recurring infections from his lost hand. There had not even been a wedding feast as he was so ill - Sansa was glad they had not made her sit through a mockery of one alone. When she received news of his recovery, she attended on him as was proper. At his bedside she met the Queen leaving. Cersei Lannister shot her a venomous look even as Sansa curtsied and said not a word. Sansa did not understand it - Cersei had been distraught at the wedding but Sansa had thought it had been because Ser Jaime was so ill. Sansa had thought it would serve Cersei right to lose a brother; Sansa had lost all her family. Robb might yet win but she was bound to Jaime Lannister in the eyes of the gods and men and he no longer seemed like he might die.
Her marriage seemed to change little, not even with Ser Jaime's recovery. He had spoken not two words to her and he glared as much as Cersei. She had heard him once arguing with Tyrion but that had only made matters worse. “I am a knight of the Kingsguard,” he'd insisted and she knew that he was not, though this clearly showed he was displeased with his dismissal. He'd been released much like Ser Barristan and she certainly could not bring herself to care if he did not get what he wanted. But now that he was well enough things were bound to change and she returned from the godswood one day to find maids packing her things. They'd been given new rooms in the Maidenvault.
The first night they were alone together Jaime did not come to bed and she lay awake for a long time waiting for him. She was awoken at first light by the sensation she was not alone. Her husband lay beside her on top of the covers fully dressed and stinking of wine. Sansa fled the bed and that set the pattern of their nights. Sansa's days were much the same as ever. Cersei gave her no more advice - which was no loss - Joffrey mocked her whenever he addressed her as aunt, and her lord husband's former comrades were no longer permitted to strike her. Ser Dontos bade her bide her time and she tried.. But then he angered Joffrey again when his capers weren't amusing enough and died with a crossbow bolt in his guts. Sansa mourned more for her lost chance of home than she did for her Florian and wept bitter tears alone in the night before Jaime stumbled drunkenly to bed. Her last chance of escape gone and she was trapped surrounded by Lannisters, her one solace that her lord husband barely noticed her.
She had not reckoned with being summoned before her goodfather. She did not like Lord Tywin Lannister and she misliked this summons even more. Even Joffrey was scared of him, though he would never admit, and Sansa had no-one and nothing if she had somehow displeased him or if he had learnt of Ser Dontos' plans - the fool was dead, she would take the full blame for that. She fancied his anger would be much worse than Joffrey's and as she followed the servant who had brought her his message, she thought of the Hound's words. Just give him what he wants, she thought, but what would he want. She curtsied as deeply to Lord Tywin as she would to the King and could not meet his cold green eyes.
“Lady Sansa,” he said coolly offering her a seat, which she took with a murmured courtesy. “How is my son?” For a moment she wondered why he was asking her and then reminded herself that she was Ser Jaime's wife. It was easy enough to forget when her lord husband ignored the fact of their marriage so thoroughly.
“Ser Jaime is distraught,” she said finally - she did not dare lie to Lord Tywin and she did not think it was any secret how Ser Jaime felt. “He wished to serve His Grace further and mourns the loss of his duties.” That was true enough and she did not think she could be blamed for it.
“Ser Jaime has other duties,” Lord Tywin told her. “To House Lannister.” He paused and after a moment added, “And to you.” This was so clearly an afterthought and Sansa kept quiet that she wanted no part of Jaime's duty to her. Lord Tywin would not care and she would only cause further trouble for herself.
“I had asked my daughter to speak to you,” Lord Tywin said. “But she refused. Would you know the reason why?” For a moment Sansa did not know if he was asking her if she knew or asking if she would know it from him and whatever it was she did not know or want to.
“Queen Cersei has always been very kind to me,” Sansa said. “But I am no longer to marry His Grace, her son, and she has Lady Margaery to advise now.” Though Sansa could not see why she would defy Lord Tywin. But why should she care what reason Cersei had.
There was a long moment where her goodfather looked her over and she felt very small under his cold hard gaze. “You have not been a proper wife to Ser Jaime,” he stated plainly and Sansa felt herself flush that he knew and would speak of it to her. “That situation will cease. Immediately.” Sansa stared then, though her face was so hot she felt near burned. She could not defy him out loud, but she could not do what he said. She did not know how to - Ser Jaime could not be less interested in her.
Lord Tywin took her silence for impudence and his gaze darkened. “My lord,” she managed. “I try,” she felt her eyes well with tears and for a moment resented Ser Jaime for something that until then she'd been grateful for.
“If you are with child or have given my son an heir when the war ends,” Tywin told her, “I will spare your lady mother.” Sansa's shock must have shown - her mother was gently born and should have been spared regardless. But then she thought of what Cersei had said on the night of the Battle of Blackwater. She wanted to ask about Robb but knew no matter what Lord Tywin said that they would not spare him - not if he lost. Joffrey was King, not Tywin, and he wanted Robb dead. Lord Tywin was not finished, “If you are not a fit wife to my heir, I will speak to the High Septon.” Sansa may have thought that was a better solution if not for his next words. “Your next husband will be a man who is not so indulgent of your whims. One of my cousins, perhaps, who knows how to teach a disobedient girl her place.” Sansa near could not breathe - she did not expect fairness from the Lannisters but Ser Jaime barely looked at her let alone ordered her to his bed.
“I will try, my lord,” she said, near forcing the words out she was so shamed. He dismissed her and she fled back the chambers that she shared with Ser Jaime. He was not there as usual and Sansa was glad - it gave her some time to think of what she should do but no inkling of how to act on it.
She did not sleep that night - she knew Jaime came to bed late and if she knew nothing about bringing her husband to his duty, she could hardly do anything asleep. She felt naked in her shift and wondered if she should take it off but she did not think she could bear it. When Jaime stumbled in the first light was showing in the slits of the window and she did not think she could stay awake much longer.
His hair had grown back some, she hadn't noticed that before. He was repeating something angrily to himself and Sansa did not think she had ever seen him in such a temper. It reminded her of Joffrey and she could not bear to approach him. He said something under his breath that she did not catch. “Have you had a pleasant evening, my lord?” she asked carefully.
“Drinking with Tyrion,” he slurred. “Go back to sleep.” He hesitated and stared as if wondering who she was. “Sansa,” he said after a long moment, “Go to sleep, I've no need of a wife right now.” He laughed bitterly. “Knights of the Kingsguard have no wives.”
He slumped in a chair still talking but not to her, not any more. He was muttering about the Targaryens and his cousin Lancel, he even had something to say about one of his sworn brothers and Moonboy the fool but she did not understand him. So she ignored it.
She slipped out of bed after a long moment of getting her nerve up. “Let me help you with your clothing, my lord” she said, her cheeks pink. He sat still as she undid his doublet and his tunic and pulled them over his head. He was covered in bruises and she wondered what from - he had been in King's Landing long enough to heal from whatever had happened to him on the journey. She lost whatever nerve she had when he suddenly grabbed her hand and drawled, “Not going to unfasten my breeches then?”
Sansa struggled not to pull her hand away. “As my lord likes,” she said quietly. Jaime pulled a face and released her hand. Sansa swallowed hard, looked away from him and carefully began to unfasten his breeches.
“You have blue eyes,” Jaime said, which seemed incongruous and she nodded, her hands fumbling over the laces as she tried to think of her mother and not the threats Lord Tywin had issued.
“I do, my lord,” she said and, desperate and uncertain, she pushed her mouth against his. It was not like kissing Ser Dontos or the Hound and she realised after a moment it was because he wasn't kissing back. He laughed bitterly when she pulled away and blinked.
“It's seems I have an eager wife,” he said, his tone sour. “Get on the bed and be glad I'm drunk.” Sansa was, though she wondered if she should take her shift off but he hadn't said to so she got on the bed and waited. She closed her eyes but opened them again when he started to mutter.
“Lancel and Osmund Kettleblack and probably Moon Boy,” Jaime said again and she watched him walk towards the bed naked - he had stepped out of his breeches. He was well made if still gaunt as well as bruised. He did not seem ashamed of his nakedness and she thought he seemed very lion like as his hair glinted in the dawn light and his green eyes watched her still angry. He was handsome even so ill treated and she tried to be pleased with that, but she couldn't. He looked like Joffrey, only older, and she tried to hide her fear. He pulled the bed hangings closed as he joined her and she felt his weight on the bed though she could not see him. He repeated the phrase and she did not ask what he meant although she did not understand his words. It was all she could do to stay still.
It was dark enough now she did not have to close her eyes but she could not help but be tense. She did not know what would come next and he'd been angry, she worried he might hurt her - he was very like Joffrey. Perhaps he had always been foul tempered and that was really why he had killed the old mad king - in a fit of temper. She had always thought Joffrey more a lion than a stag. And if he could do that to a king what might he do to her - perhaps Tywin really could not marry her to someone worse.
She decided she might open her legs for him to try and stave off his temper and just as she did, he kissed her. His act clearly encouraged him and she felt his hand on her thigh, then something else brushed her and she realised it was the stump. She managed not to shudder but it was a close call. The fact that he pushed into her distracted her from that thought and she was relieved it did not hurt when she realised it was only his fingers working against her and pushing inside her. It made her gasp and squirm against him, horrified. Why would he do such a thing. But she did not have to wonder long before he moved over her and took her properly. It hurt where he pushed inside her and his weight slipped onto her until she could not move as he thrust into her and she bit her lip. Then he grunted, murmured a name, and it was done and he rolled off her just as she began to cry. After a long moment he touched her shoulder but it was with the stump and she did shudder this time. Jaime cursed and she felt him leave the bed. It was unwifely but she did not call him back. After a long moments of listening to him pacing, she dried her tears. “I did not mean - it was merely my maiden's gift, my lord. It pained me.”
Jaime didn't answer. When she peered out of the hangings the room was fully light and she pulled down her shift and got out of bed to help her husband dress. She briefly wondered who Brienne was - the name was familiar but she supposes she didn't really care who he thought of or might have bedded before. She wouldn't even care if he sired bastards and brought them home, she decided recklessly, as long as he gave her the child that might reunite her with her mother. She could not help the thought that it was wrong of him to make such a fuss about his lost position in the Kingsguard if he was betraying his vows but then she supposed what did it matter he was not chaste when he had already killed a king - his other vows were nothing to that.
Jaime only took his rights on her twice more after that. Both times he was drunk and both times he said the same name. Sansa had no idea how to encourage him other than letting him do as he pleased which did not seem to please him at all. And then she no longer cared if Jaime was pleased at all even it it were foolish to feel so. The news of her mother and Robb hit all the harder for the loss of hope that Lord Tywin had promised her. Another Lannister lie. She had no reason to wish for a child now, Lord Tywin could not give her back her mother and given that she was truly wedded and bedded he could not give her to someone else as a wife.
She kept her tears from her husband as best she could; her grief was the only thing that was her own. Though it was hard when Joffrey mocked her. He told her in detail how her brother and mother had died and laughed when her stomach rebelled in court before sending her away in disgrace. That was not the only time and when the maester finally told her it was mother's stomach, she wept even more. Her mother had told her it could happen the first time as it had for her parents with Robb. The thought of her family made the mother's stomach worse and she took to her bed. The maester must have told her lord husband though because he knew. He did not seem pleased but she supposed to him it was just another vow broken - knights of the Kingsguard did not sire children. And at first to Sansa it was less than that, something else the Lannisters had forced on her with their lies. She felt sick and tired and vulnerable, and Lord Tywin meant to send her to Casterly Rock so his grandchild could be born there. A poor reward when he had promised her her mother. But it took her away from Joffrey and his new bride.
It was on the journey when the child moved. At first she didn't even realise what it was, a strange fluttering beneath her heart. Cersei Lannister had hated her since the day Sansa had became her goodsister but she had given Sansa one true piece of advice. She did not love her husband but she would love her child. She might not be able to name her sons Brandon and Eddard. She would likely never be given a puppy but she would have a family that the Lannisters would not harm or take away from her. And somehow that might just be enough.