fic: and thus I need you (asoiaf; jaime/sansa)
title: and thus I need you
characters: jaime/sansa
rating: g
summary: Even after the Iron Throne is won and the North claimed again, he still is not free.
author's note: For Emma/tosca1390 on her birthday!!! Happy birthday to you, my wonderful and lovely friend who I am so thankful to have. ♥ You asked for some Jaime/Sansa, and this is what happened. Set far in the future, post ADWD.
Jaime found her in the gardens. They were only just now starting to bloom again, small shoots and little petals bursting free from the hard packed ground where frost and snow had covered everything not too long ago. Some days he still found it hard to see the colors in front of him, the reds and greens and yellows and all others, so much more vibrant than the blinding white and dull grey and blue ice that had become the norm. The gardens of the Red Keep thrived amongst the heat that had returned to Westeros, brought as the songs sang by the arrival of Daenerys Targaryen, First of Her Name and Queen of the Iron Throne.
The growing gardens too were the one place that Sansa Stark could be found in King's Landing; queen also, but it did become awkward and stilted to have so many queens in one place, let alone the broken territories that had become the Seven Kingdoms. He knew that his Queen detested being in the South, no fond memories for her, only hauntings and nightmares in every brick around them.
"Let her have it," she had told him when the Dragon Queen had first met with them and laid out her terms: Sansa Stark's troops and allegiance and the South in turn for the North. "I have no use for a place I would sooner see burned." The years had made her hard at times.
Her gown of blue and silver made her easily visible, and she turned her head to the side at his approach, eyeing him over the flowers and stems she was weaving together between her fingers.
"You do not seem surprised to see me, my Lady."
She arched an eyebrow at him, further tilting her head, her mouth pursing ever so slightly. "I was not aware that I should be."
A woman of seven and ten now, Sansa Stark had grown tall and more beautiful than her lady mother had ever been. The years had had made her face hard too, more narrow and carved, but there was warmth to be found in the blue of her eyes to those who knew how to look for it, smiles too that could be coaxed, laughs for those fortunate to hear it. He was an expert of all three.
"I must confess," Jaime sat on the fountain's lip with her, uncaring of the red dust that would stain the white of his cloak. "That I am surprised to have my head still. Or to be unburnt."
Sansa hummed, giving him a look from underneath her lashes and then returning to her handiwork, child's play that made him think of when he had been a boy.
"Or to not be dragon food."
Another noise from the back of her throat, indulging him, a skill she had adopted in dealing with him.
Seeing that he would not get the reaction from her he wanted, Jaime set aside his jests. "Her Highness says that you bargained for my life. That you demanded it as part of your terms."
Her fingers stilled at the blunt delivery of his statement. Slowly, Sansa raised her chin till her head was even with his, and her eyes stared straight at his. The silver crown around her head glinted in the hot sun from overhead. It was the same beaten metal that he had placed on her head years ago when she had raised her flags and pronounced herself Sansa Stark, Queen in the North.
The corner of her mouth twisted up, a mocking little smile. "I am a Queen, am I not? You tell me often enough that I should make more demands than I do. So I did."
Jaime swallowed under her heady gaze. He found nothing to say at that.
She stood and the scent of her perfume hit his nose as she leaned toward him, the rough wool of her sleeves brushing against his arms. Her lips were dry as she pressed them to his forehead. "I have use of you yet, my Lord."
In the sun's light as she drifted away, her head turned to give him a parting look, he almost swore her eyes were green and her hair streaked with gold.
characters: jaime/sansa
rating: g
summary: Even after the Iron Throne is won and the North claimed again, he still is not free.
author's note: For Emma/tosca1390 on her birthday!!! Happy birthday to you, my wonderful and lovely friend who I am so thankful to have. ♥ You asked for some Jaime/Sansa, and this is what happened. Set far in the future, post ADWD.
Jaime found her in the gardens. They were only just now starting to bloom again, small shoots and little petals bursting free from the hard packed ground where frost and snow had covered everything not too long ago. Some days he still found it hard to see the colors in front of him, the reds and greens and yellows and all others, so much more vibrant than the blinding white and dull grey and blue ice that had become the norm. The gardens of the Red Keep thrived amongst the heat that had returned to Westeros, brought as the songs sang by the arrival of Daenerys Targaryen, First of Her Name and Queen of the Iron Throne.
The growing gardens too were the one place that Sansa Stark could be found in King's Landing; queen also, but it did become awkward and stilted to have so many queens in one place, let alone the broken territories that had become the Seven Kingdoms. He knew that his Queen detested being in the South, no fond memories for her, only hauntings and nightmares in every brick around them.
"Let her have it," she had told him when the Dragon Queen had first met with them and laid out her terms: Sansa Stark's troops and allegiance and the South in turn for the North. "I have no use for a place I would sooner see burned." The years had made her hard at times.
Her gown of blue and silver made her easily visible, and she turned her head to the side at his approach, eyeing him over the flowers and stems she was weaving together between her fingers.
"You do not seem surprised to see me, my Lady."
She arched an eyebrow at him, further tilting her head, her mouth pursing ever so slightly. "I was not aware that I should be."
A woman of seven and ten now, Sansa Stark had grown tall and more beautiful than her lady mother had ever been. The years had had made her face hard too, more narrow and carved, but there was warmth to be found in the blue of her eyes to those who knew how to look for it, smiles too that could be coaxed, laughs for those fortunate to hear it. He was an expert of all three.
"I must confess," Jaime sat on the fountain's lip with her, uncaring of the red dust that would stain the white of his cloak. "That I am surprised to have my head still. Or to be unburnt."
Sansa hummed, giving him a look from underneath her lashes and then returning to her handiwork, child's play that made him think of when he had been a boy.
"Or to not be dragon food."
Another noise from the back of her throat, indulging him, a skill she had adopted in dealing with him.
Seeing that he would not get the reaction from her he wanted, Jaime set aside his jests. "Her Highness says that you bargained for my life. That you demanded it as part of your terms."
Her fingers stilled at the blunt delivery of his statement. Slowly, Sansa raised her chin till her head was even with his, and her eyes stared straight at his. The silver crown around her head glinted in the hot sun from overhead. It was the same beaten metal that he had placed on her head years ago when she had raised her flags and pronounced herself Sansa Stark, Queen in the North.
The corner of her mouth twisted up, a mocking little smile. "I am a Queen, am I not? You tell me often enough that I should make more demands than I do. So I did."
Jaime swallowed under her heady gaze. He found nothing to say at that.
She stood and the scent of her perfume hit his nose as she leaned toward him, the rough wool of her sleeves brushing against his arms. Her lips were dry as she pressed them to his forehead. "I have use of you yet, my Lord."
In the sun's light as she drifted away, her head turned to give him a parting look, he almost swore her eyes were green and her hair streaked with gold.