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Sansa walked across the thin bridge and looked up at the battlements. The heads were gone but the pikes stayed as a reminder of what her king had done. She could still see the haunting empty eyes of her father and the tarred face of her septa staring down at her. Joffrey had done it. The man she would marry had killed them all. If only she had pushed him the day he brought her here. If only she had been brave enough to send him toppling from the bridge. The queen would have had her killed, but would that be so bad? It seemed like everyone she loved was dead already.
“Sad are we?” Sansa did not have to turn around to recognize the voice. It was the arrogant taunt of Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. She hadn’t heard him enter but now he stood on the bridge feet from her. She hated him too. She wanted to get away.
“No, ser.” She said politely, stepping back onto the narrow platform. There was barely room for both. Jaime was bigger than Joffrey. If she bumped him...Sansa froze as the thought drifted into her head. She couldn’t. It was preposterous to think that she could kill the kingslayer. He had killed dozens of men, maybe hundreds. What could she do and they couldn’t. He continued to watch her with that sly grin. Anger swelled inside her as she walked forward.
“Excuse me, my lord.” She said slipping beside him. Her hips grazed his and with a simple shift she had forced him to the side. Her hands were on his back and she closer her eyes. This was the moment...but hr turned back, gripping her wrist in one hand.
“Careful, girl,” He said steadying himself. “You could have...” He paused and studied her and Sansa pulled her hand away and quickly made her way across the bridge. Jaime stood shocked. “You...you were trying to kill me.”
“No I wasn’t.” She said flustered. Everything in her told her to run but still she stayed.
“Yes you did. You wanted me to fall.” Jaime ran his hand through his hair. “By the gods. I offer you sympathy and to try to toss me off a bridge. I’d say that it wasn’t becoming on you, my lady, but that would be a lie. I’ve always had a thing for powerful women.” He lowered his eyes. “What made you do it? Surely I haven’t done anything so terrible to you.”
Sansa’s eyes widened in fury. “You tried to kill Bran.”
“Oh yes, that. A bit of bad business, but I suppose you’re right.”
“And my father.”
“Him too. But, your Joffrey took care of that one well enough. Though, I would have liked to have seen old Ned wield a sword one last time. Ceremonial beheadings are so dull. No challenge.”
“And you killed Jory.”
“Jory...which one was that again...the one with the whiskers? No no...the boy with the..no...oh yes. I remember now. Your father’s little lackey. Poor man. I drove a dagger right through his eye. Don’t think he even saw it coming.” Jaime smirked. “Fair enough reasons to kill me, girl. Would you like to try again? One little push and down I go. They’ll sing songs about it. What does my sister call you? Little Dove? Fits better than those big ugly wolves on your banners. Too garish for you I think. Would you like that Sansa? Would you like the bards to sing the song of how the sweet little dove murdered the King’s white lion. Of course they won’t say murder. Songs rarely do, but knights and battles and damsels, it all results in murder in the end. Of course, that’s not the song I would write, for rather obvious reasons.”
Sansa’s hands shook. “What would you write?”
“Well,” Jaime’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I would have the white lion stab the little dove, but I’d leave steel quite out of it.”
Sansa said nothing but the reddening of her cheeks told Jaime all he needed to know.
“So, Joffrey’s sweet little bird is not as innocent as we believe. A welcomed surprise.”
“You are vulgar, sir.”
“And you still call me sir, though you wish me dead. Too much the lady, I think. No good ever comes of it. You seem them all, dried up and bitter. Pity; all they need is a good man to slip between their legs. Doesn’t even need to be a good man...or a man at all really...just someone who can make you feel alive.”
“Like your sister?”
“Bold now, are we? The thought of a hard cock is making our little dove want to sing.”
“I am a lady, sir.”
“Of course you are, and I’m sure you’ll be quite satisfied with all that comes with it. Becoming Queen. Raising little princes.” Jaime licked his lips. “Having dear Joffrey be the only man ever to see your pretty little cunt.”
Sansa swallowed. She thought of her mother and the way she had looked at her father. There had never been a moment when Sansa had questioned her mother’s loyalty. She had seen the hurt of her father’s betrayal but even in the face of Jon Snow, Catelyn had never strayed. Sansa had always believed she was like her mother, but Joffrey wasn’t Eddard Stark. Her voice shook. “I...”
“That is,” Jaime continued, taking a step closer, “if our worthy King fucks you at all. You know... that nasty business with the whores. Oh, I’m sure he’ll do his duty once or twice. Too vain to let his dynasty go so easily. But it won’t be for fun...or pleasure. Never. Do you want to spend your entire life knowing only the clumsy limp thrust of Joffrey Baratheon’s cock?”
She stood completely still as Jaime took two more step. His smirk was back.
“No. Of course you don’t.” He fingered the pommel of his sword. “So what will it be, Sansa? One more step and I’m back on solid ground. No bridge to fall from.” He lifted his leg. “But you can try now, for a little while longer. I won’t make it easy for you. You see, I like my life and would prefer to keep it. I suppose the bridge does give you an advantage but I do have a sword. You can’t for get that.”
“There is that other choice. The one where you realize being a little lady is dull and dreary and let me pleasure you in all the ways I know how. Difficult choice I know.”
Sansa knew he was mocking her but something in her made her hesitate. How could the kingslayer be right? How could she go her whole life without knowing the passion of a man? What did any of it matter? She would be Joffrey’s no matter what and he wasn’t wise in the ways of women. If the Kingslayer told Joffrey would kill him, blood or not, and as he had said, Jaime Lannister liked his life.”
“ Almost out of time little bird. The sword or the dagger?”
After a moment of silence she mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Dagger.” She whispered.
“I’m still not sure I caught that.”
“Dagger.” She said stepping back.
“I thought you might say that.” Jaime grinned tossing his sword to the ground and stepping onto the sturdy ledge. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her hard. Sansa pulled away as her heart started to beat faster. Her breath came in gasps as she whispered.
“Here?”
“There’s no one to see us, Sansa.” He said, hiking up her skirts and pinning her to the wall.
She nodded as Jaime unlaced his britches.
“The first time is for duty.” He shifted his hips and began to rock, pushing himself further until he hit her barrier. “Better me than Joffrey.”
She wanted to cry out as he drove his dagger home but he pulled her lips to his, silencing her scream.
“The second for pleasure.” He whispered as he continued to trust. His hand found her breast as he quickened his pace.
She moaned as he squeezed the tight bud of her nipple and wrapped her legs around his waste. She could feel the rough stone dig into her back as he pushed deeper. He was groaning now with every thrust and she felt a new urge within her. She moved with him now, trying to fulfill her need. Her legs shook as he pressed on and she dug her nails into his shoulders as she panted into his sweat soaked shirt. She felt him rupture, spilling his seed, her legs still shaking and her body still pulsing for more. He lifted her from the wall and sat as he caught his breath, letting her curl up in his lap. “Joffrey will never give you that, my lady.”
Sansa listened to the Kingslayer’s breath as she regained herself. For amoment she thought she would be sad, disappointed, and somewhat lesser. She had heard tails of poor ladies who lost their honour. She’d thought them bad and unclean before but now Sansa has seen what they did. Felt what they felt. She was smiling. “What, my Lord, is the third for?”
Jaime grinned and stroked her cunt with his fingers. “The third, my lady, is for whatever you damn well please.”
Sansa nodded and pulled away, leaving Jaime Lannister alone in a stained pair on britches. Jaime chuckled as he watched her walk away. No one would believe it. He looked up to the battlements and smiled. He had no witnesses, except for one mangy hound.