The winds whipped around the castle, time ticked on, and Sansa's kingdom ever expanded, with no wars, no battles. It was a win of attrition, of lords too tired to fight. Of Sansa moving her armies to defend the lords who allied with her, that those loyal to the North and the Vale had food. They had protection. All they had to do was to swear their loyalty, and they would be safe from winter's icy touch... but woe betide any who crossed her.
She was called the Virgin Queen. The Ice Queen, for she was ruthless with her punishments. Jamie sat by her side, staring over the map of Westeros, until she found herself staring at him. "Tell me," she said, her voice low and even. "Tell me, is it worth it?"
"Is what worth it, your Grace?" His words were guarded as he stared at the woman across from him, who had grown more beautiful than her mother had been, tall and slim with the Tully looks but the Stark power.
"Love. Having... Having someone." Her eyes flicked down to his lips before she looked away, her jaw tightening as she stared down at the table.
"Sansa..." He called her by her name - not your Grace, but he had seen so many times, she would glance at him and nearly say something, she would almost touch but then pull away, forever harder, forever stronger - but Jamie knew that if you honed steel that hard it would grow brittle and break, and honestly - it was harsh, but honestly, he had already been in that dance. His sister had gone mad with it. "Perhaps it is time that you seek a husband, in truth." He tried to sound optimistic, even though 'cheerful supporter' was hardly his title.
"No." Jamie looked up in surprise as Sansa spoke, but his raised brows turned into a slow smile as she half-rose from her chair, her skirts bunched against the table as she bent to kiss him. Her fingers buried in his golden hair, she kissed him as if he was the last man alive, as if he alone could salvage her existence.
He had never been kissed like that. His chair screeched as he shoved it back on the flagstones, standing as he caught her at the waist, one hand and his forearm and lifted, not caring what was knocked askew as he set her on the table. "Sansa-" He spoke her name roughly against her hair, even as her mouth found his cheek, his jaw, his neck, one of her hands finding it's way under his jerkin. He groaned, and pulled his mind together enough to make some semblance of thought, even as a rough hand and cold metal shoved her skirts upward. "Tell me- tell me if you wish me to-"
"Please." He was unable to stop himself when he heard her plead, and it was a mess of smallclothes and breeches and fumbling that abruptly came to an end when he slid inside her, the small bit of resistance making her gasp. It was all he could do to wait a moment, for her to grow accustomed to him, for he did not wish to hurt her. Gods, the last thing he wished was to hurt her, but there she was, her nails in the back of his neck, pulling at his collar as her perfect legs wrapped about his hips.
His head fell forward as his hand found purchase on the desk, his golden hand under her thigh. It was obvious she'd been thinking about this for a while - she was wetter then Cersai had been when she'd wait for him, and he couldn't help the sweet nothings that spilled from his lips to her ear, until he murmured, his voice as rough as gravel. "Come, love. Come for me now. Let go, Sansa-"
She was called the Virgin Queen. The Ice Queen, for she was ruthless with her punishments. Jamie sat by her side, staring over the map of Westeros, until she found herself staring at him. "Tell me," she said, her voice low and even. "Tell me, is it worth it?"
"Is what worth it, your Grace?" His words were guarded as he stared at the woman across from him, who had grown more beautiful than her mother had been, tall and slim with the Tully looks but the Stark power.
"Love. Having... Having someone." Her eyes flicked down to his lips before she looked away, her jaw tightening as she stared down at the table.
"Sansa..." He called her by her name - not your Grace, but he had seen so many times, she would glance at him and nearly say something, she would almost touch but then pull away, forever harder, forever stronger - but Jamie knew that if you honed steel that hard it would grow brittle and break, and honestly - it was harsh, but honestly, he had already been in that dance. His sister had gone mad with it. "Perhaps it is time that you seek a husband, in truth." He tried to sound optimistic, even though 'cheerful supporter' was hardly his title.
"No." Jamie looked up in surprise as Sansa spoke, but his raised brows turned into a slow smile as she half-rose from her chair, her skirts bunched against the table as she bent to kiss him. Her fingers buried in his golden hair, she kissed him as if he was the last man alive, as if he alone could salvage her existence.
He had never been kissed like that. His chair screeched as he shoved it back on the flagstones, standing as he caught her at the waist, one hand and his forearm and lifted, not caring what was knocked askew as he set her on the table. "Sansa-" He spoke her name roughly against her hair, even as her mouth found his cheek, his jaw, his neck, one of her hands finding it's way under his jerkin. He groaned, and pulled his mind together enough to make some semblance of thought, even as a rough hand and cold metal shoved her skirts upward. "Tell me- tell me if you wish me to-"
"Please." He was unable to stop himself when he heard her plead, and it was a mess of smallclothes and breeches and fumbling that abruptly came to an end when he slid inside her, the small bit of resistance making her gasp. It was all he could do to wait a moment, for her to grow accustomed to him, for he did not wish to hurt her. Gods, the last thing he wished was to hurt her, but there she was, her nails in the back of his neck, pulling at his collar as her perfect legs wrapped about his hips.
His head fell forward as his hand found purchase on the desk, his golden hand under her thigh. It was obvious she'd been thinking about this for a while - she was wetter then Cersai had been when she'd wait for him, and he couldn't help the sweet nothings that spilled from his lips to her ear, until he murmured, his voice as rough as gravel. "Come, love. Come for me now. Let go, Sansa-"
And she did, and he was forever lost.
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ugh.
FEELINGS!!!
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