Chapter 29

Lannister camp: Outside King's Landing – Sansa

Sansa stood paralyzed, clutching at her sister's hand as Tygett and Jaime hovered protectively around them. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the destruction that was happening before her. There were so few forces in this time that could do such damage. People in this time didn't know about guns, bombs, tanks or airplanes. It was a brutally violent time in which she'd been thrust back into, but the violence was personal. When someone wanted to kill you, they almost always had to do it face to face.

But wildfire changed all of that. She knew it was not able to be put out with water. It would require dirt and a lack of fuel. And fire was greedy. Fire destroyed. Fire didn't care if it were wood or human flesh that it ate. It just wanted to be fed.

Was it even possible to stop something of this magnitude? She wondered.

She heard Tywin's war cry and watched in wonder as her husband led his army from their camp. He was magnificent on the back of his warhorse, clad head to toe in his armour, the lion's helm so distinctive. She'd never met a man so prideful as he was – but he backed that pride with a dedication to his family name that few could say they had.

Sansa didn't like to think of what he might witness when he finally breached the city walls – what destruction awaited him. She was well aware that there would be those who would use this night to rape, maim, rob, and pillage. Not even Tywin's men, but cruel, opportunist people, would see others weak and take advantage of them.

What of the children or the mothers that couldn't escape in time? Would they burn in their beds if the fire spread? Sansa shuddered in horror at what she was witnessing.

In the future, this would be called a natural disaster and when the disaster ended, governments would step in to rebuild, to help people regain homes and livelihoods. Here? In ancient Westeros? There was one man – her husband. Sansa knew many would turn to him to lead, to guide, to decide the future of Westeros. At this moment, Tywin Lannister was the most powerful man in the realm – and he was hers.

"It's unbelievable," she whispered, shaking her head, wondering if she were referring to the fire or Tywin. Or both. Probably both. It was the surrealism of the night that had her reeling.

She felt Tygett squeeze her shoulder as Tywin's white horse ate up the ground, racing towards the Lion's Gate.

Watching her husband lead his army down the hill from which they stood, towards King's Landing, Sansa's mouth felt dry, and she knew she was wringing her hands. She couldn't help it. There was so much uncertainty as to how this might end.

And there was danger. Tywin was riding into bedlam. It would take nothing for someone to strike out at him. Surely in the chaos of the capital, Tywin would not be left alone, would he? He would have Kevan by his side and any number of loyal men at his back.

She began to tremble and forced herself to stop. She knew she was not from this time, but this was Tywin Lannister. The Great Lion. Warden of the West. The shield of Lannisport. A man that others feared and respected. A man that Aerys himself sought to undermine because as Hand, Tywin ruled as King instead of him.

This was not Tywin's first battle, nor would it be his last. This was the time in which she now lived and she was married to a man that did not have a craven bone in his body.

"Sister, I have watched my brother ride off to many battles, and he has always returned," Tygett said gruffly.

Sansa appreciated the sentiment, even if she couldn't peel her eyes away from the rapidly disappearing white warhorse.

Instead, she reached for Tygett's hand. She didn't care if it were proper or not – he was part of her family as well. She was from a time when people derived comfort from those they cared for. And she did care deeply for Tygett.

When the darkness of the night and the growing smoke obscured her view, Sansa finally turned away. She could not fixate on things she could not change. All she could do was keep herself occupied with the tasks at hand. And she was determined to be an asset to Tywin on this night.

Sansa assessed those left with her.

Jaime, Tywin's beloved son. She understood why Tywin had not wanted Jaime back in the capital. In modern times, they'd probably say that Jaime needed time to decompress from everything he'd been through. In many ways, he'd been a prisoner of Aerys and his mad games. He most likely had some post-traumatic stress associated with his time serving as a Kingsguard. But this was not modern Westeros, and the idea of saying that Jaime might be suffering some mental health effects from his experiences would likely be scoffed at.

Instead, Tywin had recognized that keeping Jaime out of the capital was the best course of action for his son. The reality was that keeping Jaime here, in the Lannister camp, protected Tywin's heir – something that he had been unable to do for the past two years. And secondly, it gave Jaime a proper purpose by vowing to keep her safe.

She gave Jaime a wan smile, and he returned it, though she could see the worry in his emerald-green eyes. Sansa hadn't realized just how much she'd relied upon knowing how events unfolded to anchor her in the past. It had been her touchstone, her guidepost and she'd drawn comfort from knowing what was coming.

Tonight, all of that had changed, and she felt adrift, unsure of what the future held. All she knew was that she didn't want to live in ancient Westeros without Tywin by her side.

She gave Jaime a watery smile and murmured platitudes.

"I'm sure your father will have everything handled soon enough."

It was the best she could manage right now and not untrue. This was Tywin, after all. The man had his reputation for a reason. If anyone could rise to the occasion and emerge unscathed, it was him.

"I'm sure he will, Lady Sansa." Sansa heard the warmth in Jaime's voice and knew he was trying to comfort her as well. Since Jaime knew when she came from, Sansa appreciated the sentiment to help calm her reeling mind.

She turned next to Tygett and took a moment to assess the third Lannister son. He was a big man, not quite as tall as Tywin or Jaime, but thicker and more muscular. He wore his blond hair long and often tied back with a leather strap and had a neatly trimmed beard. He almost reminded her of a Viking from that show her father liked, or that actor, Brad Pitt, when he had long hair in a period piece. There was something slightly wild about Tygett as if he used his superior size to intimidate people instead of the sharp Lannister wit others in his house were known for.

Still, Sansa liked him and knew that he held her in high regard. And there was no denying he was an attractive man. This house didn't seem to breed them any other way.

"Sister, he will come back to us," Tygett said, voice full of conviction.

Sansa merely nodded, unable to respond. She wished she wasn't a bundle of nerves, but she could hardly tell anyone it was because her entire world had just been upended. Again. Soon none of her knowledge would be useful!

The last person left with her on this hill was her 'sister' from this time. Catelyn had been a revelation to Sansa. At first, the jealousy and pettiness between them had threatened to destroy any hope of friendship. But the past four months together had forged something solid and true between them.

Sansa could admit that most times she did view Catelyn as a sister. She needed to so she didn't inadvertently slip up like she had with Jaime and give away her secret. The more Sansa adapted to this time, the more likely that her ruse would work and people would accept her as the noble-born wife of the mighty Tywin Lannister.

Her sister had just confessed that she'd had the Maester confirm her pregnancy, so both Tully sisters were set to give birth in half a year, giving their two noble husbands heirs.

"Sansa, I cannot even believe this," Cat said, shaking her head in shocked disbelief.

Sansa grimly agreed. She couldn't believe it either. Who on earth set their own castle on fire?

In the other timeline, Catelyn had remained behind at Riverrun while Ned had finished the rebellion by Robert's side at the Trident. Sansa believed that Catelyn was in a far better position to help her new husband when he returned to her, having accompanied Sansa and Tywin to Casterly Rock. Catelyn had committed to this alliance as much as her husband and had won the grudging respect of Tywin himself. She was invested in this alliance and that was critical to their ongoing success.

And the time together had allowed the two women to bond. Sansa was close with Catelyn and liked the woman from Riverrun greatly.

"I know, sister, I know," Sansa said in agreement.

She could hardly believe what was happening herself, and she knew that this was always a possibility – she had known what Jaime had prevented. Sansa couldn't even imagine what others might be feeling, those that had no indication the King was so close to madness.

"Tell me again what the raven said," Catelyn demanded, the worry and anxiety for her husband clear in her tone and the way she clutched at Sansa. Sansa's heart ached for her. Catelyn had one night with Ned – hardly enough time to build something solid. But it seemed like her sister missed her husband and was anxious to have him back by her side.

"Lord Robert struck down Prince Rhaegar at the Trident but was mortally wounded. Your husband survived and is racing down the King's Road with Robert's vanguard, along with our uncle, the Blackfish, and Lord Royce, to lend his support to the saving of King's Landing."

"Good. That is good," Catelyn muttered, eyes were drawn back to the horrible green flames licking at the spires of King's Landing.

Sansa suddenly felt restless, just standing there, watching the capital burn.

"Where is Princess Elia?" she asked Tygett.

"In her tent, with the children," he replied with a frown as if he knew what Sansa was about to do. He reached for her for arm just as Sansa took a few steps towards the tents, in the middle of the Lannister camp. She looked to his hand, on her arm, and Tyg removed it but crossed his arms over his massive chest, not moving. She did not fear him, and she would not back down.

"Is this the time? Now?" he questioned.

She narrowed her eyes and waved a hand towards the madness behind her.

"Her husband is dead, and her good father just lit the capital on fire. She should know what has happened and what horror is associated with the names of her children."

There wasn't much that Sansa could do at this moment to support her husband, but making it abundantly clear to Elia what was happening this night was one thing she could do. A tangible thing. Sansa could begin to lay the foundation for the future that they wanted.

Tygett sighed and scrubbed at his face, but gave a slow nod as he thought about her statement.

"Fine. But I will accompany you when you go and speak with her," Tyg said gruffly.

Sansa knew his loyalty was to House Lannister, but she wondered at the bond he'd developed with the Princess and her daughter. Lord knew that the man should be an asset to House Lannister if he were willing to make a match to the right woman.

Tygett was handsome and fierce, and Sansa suspected very similar to his older brothers when it came to love. Or all Lannister men when it came down to it. Sansa had only met one other that loved as they did – her father. But Tygett had to allow himself the possibility of developing feelings for a woman.

It was far too soon to propose anything between Tygett and Elia, but perhaps there was an opportunity there if Tygett was open to it.

Catelyn and Jaime accompanied them as Sansa strode through the camp, purposefully. She finally felt like she was doing something and something that mattered – that would have an impact. Tywin had left enough men here to defend them, and everywhere she looked, the proud lion sigil that was now part of her house, was present. She was unique among those living in this time in that she had no loyalty to anyone BUT Tywin and his house but had not been born in the Westerlands. Belonging to House Lannister was genuinely her choice and one she'd make again and again.

As she walked, she saw men defer to her, as the Lady of the Rock, and she gave them what she hoped was a smile that conveyed confidence – that this night would end the way she and Tywin hoped it would – with him on the Iron Throne, Aerys dead or arrested and Sansa by his side as his queen.

She wanted to be an asset to him, and that started with diving into her role as Lady Lannister. And all of that began with explaining to Princess Elia what had happened on this night.

Sansa entered the tent of the Princess to find it rivalled only hers in terms of opulence. There were two rooms, and Sansa caught a tiny blur of dark hair before Rhaenys launched herself into Tygett's arms.

"Lion!" the little girl cried as he scooped her up, holding her tightly to his chest.

Sansa wondered if Tyg knew how much the stern expression he generally wore softened as he gazed upon her. Sansa's sentimental heart ached for the child. Her father was dead – and had betrayed his family before he'd died by taking up with Lyanna Stark. Her grandfather was a mad man whose actions might result in the deaths of thousands of innocent lives. And Sansa knew that a battle was brewing between Tywin and House Martell when it came to the next king of the seven.

But this child and the baby that Elia had just birthed were innocents. True innocents.

Sansa knew their fate in her timeline – their horrible fate at the hands of Gregor. That action had consequences that had reverberated over the years.

Sansa was happy that Elia and her children lived. She liked the Dornish woman. But liking someone and trusting them was not the same thing. Sansa would not have Elia or her brothers challenging Tywin for the Throne.

Sansa was announced, and there was some shuffling before she was granted entry to Elia's chambers, finding the dark-haired woman propped up in bed, looking wan and weary.

Sansa had attended the birth of Aegon, so there was a bond between the women. Elia smiled tiredly, if somewhat sadly, upon spotting Sansa, Tygett and Rhaenys, almost as if she knew that Sansa did not have welcome news. It wasn't proper at all for Tygett to be in her bedchambers, but no one said a word since Rhaenys had burrowed into Tygett's arms and clung to him like a monkey. And the big man seemed to be in no hurry to put the little girl down.

"Lady Sansa, you are a welcome sight. Come and tell me what news you have," Elia said, pointing to a chair beside her bed. Sansa took her seat, and Tygett took the other chair in the room and settled in. He shifted, so that little Rhaenys was more comfortable. Elia's eyes warmed upon seeing Tygett and her daughter.

"She's taken quite a liking to you, lion." Elia's voice sounded weak, but grateful all the same.

Tygett's chest rumbled, but he said nothing, only holding the small girl carefully.

"Lady Elia, I have come to discuss matters of some urgency with you," Sansa began, hoping that she was doing the right thing.

Elia shifted her attention to Sansa and as she did so, she grimaced in pain. Sansa was out of her chair in an instant, helping with a pillow behind her back, hoping to make her more comfortable. Sansa didn't know a lot about childbirth, but she wondered if some milk of the poppy would be in order.

"Are you unwell?" Sansa asked quietly.

Elia shook her head and looked devastated.

"No. But the Maester is unsure if I'll ever carry another babe in my womb."

Without the aid of modern medicine, Sansa was slightly horrified at what could go wrong for Elia should she choose to have another child. Her husband was dead, and she was only twenty-seven. There was a high probability that she would have to marry again, and most men would demand at least one child of their own out of their new wife. What happened when Elia couldn't provide that?

"Your health is most important," was all Sansa said and saw Elia give her a grateful nod. She was a slim woman, shorter than Sansa, with long dark hair. Her chest had swelled with her pregnancy, but it was clear she was not nursing her babe. It was as if her body required all of its strength for Elia herself. Pregnant with her own child, Sansa hoped that her birth was much easier than Elia's.

"Tell me what news you have," Elia demanded, softly but with a hint of impatience.

Instead of retreating to her chair Sansa took a seat on the bed and reached for Elia's hand.

Decorum be damned, Sansa thought.

She was about to tell this woman her husband was dead. From all accounts, they had a pleasant marriage, if not a passionate one. Rhaegar's actions with Lyanna were horrible – even more so now that Sansa knew the woman he had wronged. There was a part of Sansa that was happy that Elia was free of a man that did not love or value her.

"We've received word from the rebellion. Lord Robert Baratheon struck down Rhaegar at the Trident. Both men succumbed to their injuries," Sansa told Elia in a rush. She hoped she did so with far more compassion than that awful police officer had when he'd shared news of Sansa's father and uncle's deaths. It was horrible news to have to share, but at least they had privacy.

Elia sucked in a sharp breath, blanching before Sansa's very eyes. Sansa squeezed her hand hard. She was unsure what she might do to offer comfort to Elia. Sansa remembered when nothing anyone said to her made a damn bit of difference.

"No," Elia murmured, shaking her head. "Where were his guards? Ser Selmy and Prince Martell? Why were they not by his side?"

"They were. Prince Lewyn was struck down, and Ser Barristan has been taken prisoner by the rebels. But Rhaegar was brave and met Robert in one on one combat," Sansa said, while Tygett snorted in disgust.

Sansa shot him a look that had him rolling his eyes at her. Neither she nor any of the Lannisters had high regard for the Targaryens, but this was Elia's husband they were discussing. Even if it were a lie, it was one told with the best of intentions.

Elia keened out a broken sound, shaking. Sansa worried that she had miscalculated telling Elia what had happened at the Trident, but she thought the woman deserved to know the truth.

"There is more, My Lady," Sansa said, gentling her tone.

"More?" Elia repeated, clearly confused. She blinked several times before Sansa finally felt that Elia was back with her and listening to her words.

Sansa grimaced.

"Yes. More. It was during one of our war conclaves when we received word of the battle's outcome at the Trident. King Aerys must have received word as well, for it was only a short time later when we heard a giant explosion and rushed outside to see the Red Keep engulfed in wildfire."

Elia's entire body was now trembling as she shook, the denial on her lips.

"That is --- no. It's impossible," she repeated. She shook her head, almost violently, and Sansa squeezed her hand.

Elia brought her other hand, fingertips trembling to her mouth, her eyes distant as if she were attempting to reconcile what Sansa had just told her.

"Ser Tygett and I have seen it with our own eyes. Right now, your brother and my husband lead our armies into the capital to rescue the people and secure the King. His reign is over."

Elia's eyes, now wet with unshed tears, met Sansa's.

"My son –" she began to say.

Sansa shook her head.

"No, My Lady. Aegon will not be King. Not of the seven. My husband means to take the Iron Throne. The Mad King, the Targaryen King, has endangered half a million innocent people of King's Landing. Surely you do not want your baby associated with such a House?"

Elia bit her lip, and Sansa saw something rally inside the woman, which gave Sansa hope that Elia would fight to do what was right for her son.

"He is the rightful heir."

Sansa calmly held Elia's gaze.

"This is a rebellion, My Lady. One that has been raging for nearly two years. And the rebels have won. There will no longer be a Targaryen on the Iron Throne. But those loyal to House Lannister will find their loyalty rewarded."

Elia said nothing for a time, and in the silence, sounds of the camp, muffled but distinct, could be heard.

Sansa wondered if Elia would say anything else. She'd delivered shocking news to the woman in the past hour.

"When news came that Lord Tywin had remarried, I was stunned, as were others at court. His love for Lady Joanna was legendary, and I couldn't imagine what type of woman might tempt him to give another the title of Lady Lannister."

Sansa held her tongue, unwilling to defend the connection she had with Tywin to Elia. They were not that good of friends. Now Elia's eyes blazed with something that Sansa couldn't quite identify – longing perhaps?

"But I understand now. As we made our way south again, I watched how much he loves you, how he hovered over you, how he cared for you. He did so in sight of his men, uncaring who might see. And you love him. Even a man as harsh and demanding as Lord Tywin is, you love him. You two are a love match," she finished, wistfully, a note of envy mixed in.

"We are a love match," was all Sansa was willing to say.

Elia sighed and closed her eyes as she rested her head against the pillow. Sansa wondered if that was the end of their conversation but waited a few minutes longer to be sure. Just as she was about to rise, to take her leave, Elia's eyes opened.

"I think if I were ever to marry again, I'd want a man that looks at me the way Lord Tywin looks at you. My husband never did. He wasn't unkind to me, but ours was not a love match. That is what I want for my next marriage. A man who loves me like Lord Tywin loves you."

Understanding dawned, and Sansa leaned forward.

"You are in a powerful position, Lady Elia. Your son will not be King, but there are options available to you. Remember which house rescued you. Think about what you want for your son and think about those that might use him for their own gain."

Sansa did not say it, but she did not think that Oberyn or Doran Martell had Aegon's best interests at heart.

The tears now flowed down Elia's face, and Sansa's heart ached for the woman. But she would not concede this point.

"Think of the future that you want for your children," was all Sansa said again, as Elia nodded.

"Mama?" came Rhaenys tiny voice. Tygett moved swiftly for such a large man and put the small child on the bed, next to Elia who cuddled her close. The child was without a father, and Elia pressed a soft kiss to her daughter's forehead.

"Princess, listen to Lady Sansa. She is a good woman and has done much to restore the fortunes of House Lannister," Tygett told her, voice gruff, but oddly gentle.

Elia merely nodded as she cuddled her daughter close, and Sansa heard the wail of a baby.

"We'll let you rest, but I will send someone with updates as they work to save King's Landing," Sansa told Elia.

She left her room, Tygett at her heels.

Once outside, the man looked positively murderous, and he rounded on Sansa.

"Where are Dayne and Hightower and Whent?" he demanded, naming the three Kingsguard that were in Dorne, guarding Lyanna Stark instead of their Prince or their King. Never let it be said that Lannisters were stupid. Even the ones that preferred to swing a sword rather than use a quill.

Sansa felt her mouth turn down as Jaime was suddenly by her side.

"Away, uncle, under Prince Rhaegar's orders," Jaime answered.

Tygett looked between Sansa and Jaime, but both were tightlipped. Now was not the time for a discussion about Jon Snow or Lyanna Stark.

Tygett snarled as if he knew they knew more, and stormed away, as Jaime cocked his head, watching him go.

"I believe my uncle might be developing feelings for a woman of his station. How bizarre," Jaime said, shaking his head. He was, of course, referring to Tyg's near-legendary love of whores and his utter refusal to consider a proper marriage.

"Elia could do much worse than Tygett Lannister. Lannister men love truly and deeply," was all Sansa said.

After her discussion with Elia, she and Jaime made their way back to the hill's edge, overlooking the capital.

They were silent as they stood vigil, watching as those in the distance scrambled to put out the fire, to get those in King's Landing to safety. From where she stood, it appeared that the wildfire had not spread to any other location but the Red Keep. Sansa suspected that Lord Varys might have had something to do with that. The man was not to be trusted, but he'd always claimed that he wanted the best ruler for the people on the Iron Throne. Clearly, Aerys was not that ruler.

"I never imagined anything like this," Jaime said quietly, painfully.

Sansa could only nod. "Neither did I. We meant to come and rescue you – to free you from that white cloak. We never meant for any of this to happen."

Jaime gave a little snort and shook his head.

"A part of me wonders if I made the right choice, leaving as I did. Perhaps, had I stayed ---"

"Elia Martell and her children would likely be dead. And" Sansa said, shrugging, as Jaime turned to look at her, "We've changed so much. We just cannot know, Jaime, so there is no point in worrying about it. You made a choice – and a noble one at that. You did what you thought was right."

"I wanted answers, Sansa. Answers as to how both my siblings ended up dead within the year of one another, along with my closest friend and favourite uncle."

She could hear the frustration and grief in Jaime's voice. All of it was laced with anger and the hint of accusation. Towards her. Towards them. He wanted to know what had happened at the Rock, while he'd been away in King's Landing. She didn't blame him, but she also did not have all the answers he was looking for. Nor did she believe she was the one that should give them to him.

Sansa turned to him and looked him directly in the eyes, pleased when he met her gaze.

"You know when I come from. You know what I know."

Jaime jerked his head.

"This conversation should probably wait for your father. Some things happened, things that were set in motion before I came back that neither one of us had any control over."

"Please, tell me something," he pleaded. "Anything."

Sansa's mind raced, and she wondered if now was the time or place. But if not now, when? She didn't believe in secrets, and she was cautious with the information she shared, even with Tywin. But if anyone had a right to know what happened to Tyrion and Cersei, it was Jaime.

"Did you always suspect that she was what she was? Or did that come as a shock to you when you heard of Tyrion's death?"

Sansa didn't have to specify whom she was asking about, nor the implication of who was to blame. She watched as Jaime hunched his shoulders defensively.

"I know I always loved her. And I always loved Tyrion," he responded.

Sansa nodded. Jaime had a vast capacity to love.

"You protected him from Cersei. From your father," Sansa said, and Jaime's eyes widened. He nodded.

"I did." He gazed at her. "You know about her and me."

"I do."

Jaime sighed. "And my father? When did he find out about us?"

"Not until I came back in time," Sansa answered Jaime honestly and watched him begin to pace.

She wondered if she was wise to share this with him now when Tywin and Kevan were both so far away. Would Jaime blame her? Hurt her?

When he turned back, all she saw was a confused man who was grieving the loss of his family.

"I won't pretend to understand or approve of what you and she had. But I do understand what it feels like to lose someone or more than one someone that you love dearly."

Sansa paused as Jaime stilled. There must have been something in her voice that convinced him she was opening herself up, making herself vulnerable and telling him something painful about her own past.

"Before --- well, you've heard how I found your father's sigil ring in the ruins of Casterly Rock. It is what we suspect triggered our connection. How we know not. I was in Lannisport, attending school, far from my father and my uncle in the North. My family was small, but we were close."

The pain was still there, fresh and raw, and she felt it well up, stealing her voice and hitching her breath. There were times when she was still numb to how quickly she'd lost everyone that she'd loved in that other lifetime.

"Sansa, you don't have to share," Jaime began to say, clearly seeing her distress, and Sansa saw the compassion this man had.

She shook her head.

"No. I want you to know. It happened quickly. An accident where they were both killed instantly, leaving me utterly alone. I had no one, Jaime, in my time. A few friends, but that was all. When I was sent back in time, all I could think was that if I could somehow get to your father, that there might be a chance I could find a family again."

Jaime said nothing, so she continued.

"I know that the visions set things in motion – things that we did not have full control over. In the timeline I know, neither one of your siblings died the way they did here. But I will not apologize for what happened between Tywin and me. I did not do this on purpose, and I will never say sorry for finding your father. I needed him, Jaime, and I believe he needed me as well. I will say sorry that you are in so much pain. And you deserve answers. Just be prepared that they may not be the ones you were hoping for."

Jaime said nothing for a time, his jaw tight, ticking. He gazed off into the distance, weighing her words.

"I loved them both, you know."

"I know."

"But there was always a war in my family. From the moment he was born and blamed for my mother's death, Cersei hated him."

"But you didn't."

Jaime shook his head. "I didn't, no. He was an innocent. My mother had given her life for him, and he was a Lannister. So yes, I loved him and tried to protect him as best I could."

"And her? Did you always know what she was capable of? The power she craved?"

Jaime said nothing until finally, he turned to her. His eyes were bright and almost desperate as if he was looking for anyone to understand how he could love someone like Cersei.

"My father. He is not an easy man. Most think him harsh. Cold. Calculating. You know all his worst deeds. All the horrible things he's done. Everything that he's capable of. And yet, you claim to love him."

"It's not a claim. I do love him."

"Even the worst parts. Even the parts that others find despicable."

"I accept that they are part of him," she said, frowning. "I do not like those parts of him, but I love him."

"Then you know how I could love her, even knowing what she was."

After that, there was nothing more to say.

Soon enough, dawn would break, and another long day of waiting for Tywin to come back would begin. Sansa could only hope and pray that he did and rested her hands on her slightly swelled stomach where their child grew, not ready to say goodbye to her husband when she'd just found him.