Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13065570.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin, Game_of_Thrones_(TV), Robin
      Hood_(BBC_2006)
  Relationship:
      Sansa_Stark/Guy_of_Gisborne, Jaime_Lannister/Brienne_of_Tarth
  Character:
      Sansa_Stark, Guy_of_Gisborne, Sheriff_of_Nottingham, Joffrey_Baratheon,
      Tywin_Lannister, Robin_Hood, Robin_of_Locksley, Marian_of_Knighton,
      Varys, Jaime_Lannister, Brienne_of_Tarth, Tyrion_Lannister, Little_John
  Additional Tags:
      Mash-up, Crossover, Crossover_Pairings, Crossovers_&_Fandom_Fusions,
      Arranged_Marriage, Alternate_Universe, Alternate_Universe_-_Canon
      Divergence, Dubious_Consent, First_Time, Awkwardness, Awkward_Sexual
      Situations, Romance, Oral_Sex, Menstruation
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-19 Updated: 2018-01-26 Chapters: 29/? Words: 31543
****** To Nottingham ******
by Maracuya
Summary
     Nottinghamshire is a part of central Westeros, and so are the people
     we know from there. The Lannisters are the liege lords of the area.
     After having brought down the Brotherhood without banners, Guy of
     Gisborne arrives in King's Landing to receive a reward. Joffrey gives
     him a new task: to deal with more outlaws, this time in Sherwood
     Forest. He also gives him a bride - his unwanted former fiancée.
     Post-Blackwater.
Notes
     Some of my stories have been stolen from me and have been posted on
     another homepage without my consent. I hereby declare that so far,
     the stories haven’t been taken down from that homepage despite my
     explicit wish to delete them. Any profit that person is making has
     got nothing to do with me and is being acquired against my will. I
     hereby condemn this kind of behavior. It is effectively blocking my
     creativity. Do not visit such a website, please. At this point, I’ve
     got no intention to take down my stories here, so going there has got
     no point.
     I don't own anything, and I'd never want to make any profit from
     this.
***** Overture - Is this a reward or a punishment? *****
While holding court, Joffrey was slouched on the Iron Throne as usual, and
Sansa had noticed he had already cut himself once. Of course, she kept in the
background so as not to attract any unwanted attention, and she had schooled
her features, too. It wouldn't do to smile at the king's wound. Joffrey was in
one of his moods, like so often. Hopefully, his grandfather, who was at his
side and ruthless enough himself, would still rein Joffrey in enough to avoid
the young man's most sadistic cruelties.
At some point, the herald announced a name Sansa hadn't heard before: Ser Guy
of Gisborne. She briefly wondered if he was a hedge knight of some sort, but
had no time to elaborate on the idea, because the big doors of the throne room
were already swinging open. The man who enetered caused the king to brighten
up, and a shiver ran down Sansa's spine.
Ser Guy of Gisborne was a tall, dark-haired, shaved man, with a cold air about
him. He was all clad in black, and he held himself very upright, which added to
the overall impression of obscurity.
 
The man knelt in front of the Throne.
"Ser Guy of Gisborne," Joffrey said, eyes sparkling. "I've heard of your latest
deeds."
Sansa had heard nothing, but then again, she was used to learning news later
than others.
Meanwhile, Joffrey went on, "Is it true that you've brought down this band of
outlaws in the Riverlands?"
Ser Guy looked up and answered in a dark, proud voice, "Your Grace, the so-
called 'Brotherhood without Banners' is no more. Their leader, Beric Dandarrion
- I brought him down although he tried to apply some dark magic. I killed him
myself. And when he tried to rise from the dead like a wight in the North, I
killed him all over again and made sure there was nothing left of him to rise a
second time."
 
Wild whispers erupted in the throne room.
Joffrey slapped his thighs in malicious glee and cackled, "Splendid, splendid.
We are most content wih your efficiency, Ser Guy. And it shall not be said, I
wouldn't pay my debts, because I do heed the rules of my mother's and
grandfather's family. - But first, I must tell you that evil is rearing its
head again. My grandfather has just learned of a new threat in the West. So We
have need of your special abilities once more. We need you in Nottingham.
There's a band of outlaws in the Sherwood Forrest called 'The Merry Men'. Their
vicious leader is called Robin Hood. Of course, there is nothing merry about
those bastards."
Ser Guy grabbed the pommel of his sword.
"Leave them to me. I'll wipe them out."
Lord Tywin Lannister nodded in curt approval.
 
Joffrey went on, "Marvellous. Now on to your reward. I give you a bride."
Ser Guy stiffened. So did Lord Tywin Lannister, and Sansa realised that Joffrey
was following down a route of his own again.
The young man grinned in a most evil way and annouced, "Which greater reward is
there than to marry a woman who could have been queen, had she not been a
traitor's daughter? Ser Guy, I give you Sansa Stark."
***** Worries *****
Surely, he had misheard? Guy of Gisborne looked at the king - but the youngster
was cackling to himself as if he had made the dirtiest teenage joke... and
probably he had - only Ser Guy didn't feel in the mood for laughing. One look
into Lord Lannister's face, and he knew that he wasn't alone in that sentiment.
"I'm a dead man walking,"Ser Guy came to understand.
The Stark name had been besmirched of late, granted, but it was still a name of
such a noble degree that Ser Guy, a simple knight of rather humble origins,
could normally not even dream of kissing the feet of a Stark woman. Oh, sure, a
match with a Stark would elevate his status considerably, even catapult him to
the top nobility. An ambitious man like him would normally appreciate a social
improvement, and greatly so. This particular situation, however, was destined
to backfire, and right into Ser Guy's face. He knew he'd be rising too far and
too fast. The king's order was bound to earn Guy of Gisborne numerous powerful
enemies - Lord Tywin Lannister, first and foremost, if the elder man's face was
anything to go by. Surely, the king's Hand had already had other plans for the
young lady. The king's mother, however, seemed to be pleased like a cat who'd
fallen into a bowl of cream.
 
At that moment, there was a commotion behind him, Ser Guy turned around and saw
a Kingsguard member drag a pale young woman with auburn hair towards the Iron
Throne. It was then that Ser Guy really grasped that he was about to marry an
unknown woman.
In a commanding voice, Lord Lannister spoke up, "Your Grace -"
"Get us a septon!" the king hollered, ignoring his grandfather. "They must
marry at once! At once! Oh, and Ser Guy, as a wedding gift I'm making you
deputy sheriff of Nottingham."
A slap in the face would have been less humiliating, but there was no helping
it. Guy of Gisborne knew when a cause was lost. Normally, he'd have expected
the Lord of Lannister to stop the wedding, but after the king's explicit
declaration not even he could go against his sovereign directly. The old lion
could only make sure Ser Guy died soon so he could get his paws back onto the
young Stark lady and barter her off to a more deserving man.
 
"But he still needs me to fight those outlaws in the West," Ser Guy thought.
"This could help me survive. Of course, I'll have to appear absolutely loyal to
House Lannister."
He rose and said, "Your Grace, I'm humbled by your generosity. May I take the
opportunity and pledge my sword to Lord Lannister then before the wedding?"
The king waved his hand, bored by this particular idea, but still excited
enough because of the imminent wedding.
"Of course, of course. If you must. I guess it's reasonable. Grandfather,
you're his new liege lord. Go ahead then."
At once, Ser Guy walked over to the elderly nobleman, knelt, and swore his
oath. He could see wrath in the lord's eyes, but the man did play along.
 
After this was done, Ser Guy rejoined his bride and a septon who had arrived by
now. The young lady looked like the ghost of a Tully, her eyes huge with shock.
"She's quite beautiful. And quite tall,"Ser Guy thought in a matter-of-fact
way. He didn't care much about her looks. What piqued him was that she had
swelling breasts like a woman, but wore a girl's clothes that were entirely too
tight. "This must be Lady Sansa." Of course, he'd heard of her. And of her
father's beheading. Who woul have not? "What shall I do with someone like her?
I've got no use for her."
Well, many husbands had no use for their wives. Ser Guy guessed he'd have to
keep her somewhere in his surroundings, but that would be about it. They
probably wouldn't have to do a lot with each other. That would surely be the
best for both of them.
 
Someone came up with a maiden's cloak, the septon stepped in front of them, and
the ceremony began without further ado. Guy of Gisborne still wasn't quite able
to process it all - and his wife neither, as far as he could see. After mere
minutes, he wrapped his own cloak around her shoulders and pressed the quickest
peck onto her lips.
And then, it was done. He, Ser Guy of Gisborne, was a married man.
What a mess.
***** Departure *****
The rest of the court session went by in a blur for Sansa.
She was married! And... to a man of dubious origin and character. A man who had
just become a Lannister lackey. She wouldn't have trusted him under any
circumstances, but considering these new conditions, things had become even
worse.
Her stomach turned to a brick of ice when she thought of the fact that he
basically owned her now and could do with her body whatever he wished. Months
before, Sansa would have had no clue as to what happened between men and women,
but King's Landing had taught her many things the hard way.
 
Only the day before, Joffrey had seen two copulating dogs in the courtyard, had
pointed them out to Sansa, and had sneered, "See! You'll have to do the same,
and soon. And you'll bleed. I'll have you breed someone's bastard. Thinking of
dogs - a pity the Hound isn't there anymore, the traitorous coward. He'd have
surely split you in two. Perhaps I should wait with your wedding until Gregor
Clegane is around again."
Sansa had been so sick of the mere thought that she had thrown up behind a bush
in the yard as soon as Joffrey had turned his back on her.
 
Sansa looked at her bridegroom, who was holding a parchment with the royal seal
that both proved their newly-wedded status and the mission he was being sent
on.
"He's tall, but he's not as much of a giant as Ser Gregor," she thought.
Still, this detail was but cold comfort. There was a darkness about the man
that intimidated her, to say the least. She wondered if he'd be so brutal in
the marriage bed that she wouldn't be able to stand it. If he was one of those
men who took pleasure in breaking a woman. Those thoughts made her so queasy
she was nearly sick again.
 
As soon as the court session ended, Ser Guy of Gisborne grabbed her by the arm
and said in a low but commanding voice, "Take me to your room."
"Gods!" Sansa thought, panic washing over her. "He's so quick about the
bedding!"
Nevertheless, her feet started to move into the right direction. Life in the
Red Keep had taught her to obey.
 
Once they were far enough away from the throne room, Ser Guy spoke to her again
in that dark, hollow voice of his.
"We'll have to pack your things quickly. It's late in the morning, and I want
to be on the road to Nottingham as soon as possible. I don't want to give
people the time to think on whether you can leave the capital or not."
Sansa understood then, that this haste wasn't about an imminent bedding at all.
Her core started to tremble when she realised she was probably about to leave
King's Landing.
At that moment, she sped up.
Panting, she answered, "I don't own much, my lord - and even less that would be
useful on a trip. It will only take a few minutes."
In response, her bridegroom gave her an intense look Sansa couldn't read, but
he gave no further comment and simply followed her.
 
Back in her room, they met one of Cersei's spying chambermaids. Ser Guy of
Gisborne barked at the woman - and the ever rulactant wench sprang into action,
hands trembling.
"Ser Guy is as intimidating as the Hound, even though he's got no scars on his
face."
She then asked herself briefly if he probably had invisible scars on his soul
that caused him to be similarly aggressive and threatening. However, there was
no time to ponder this any further. Every thought evaporated in the face of
this rushed packing.
 
Within no time at all, they were down in the yard. At this point, their attempt
at eloping unseen came to an end.
Lord Tyrion was standing in front of them, and there were some saddled horses
as well as a handful of armed men.
The Imp looked up at them and smirked.
"Let me extend my congratulations, Ser Guy of Gisborne. This must really be
your day. An effective strike against a band of criminals, approval from the
king, a wedding to such a prominent lady - really, what an impossible stroke of
good luck. And by the look of it, you can also think on your feet, given how
you're trying to escape my dearest Lord Father with your bride."
 
Ser Guy spoke up with a deadpan voice, "Thank you for your congratulations,
Lord Tyrion, but I must point out that this is no escape. Lady Sansa is my wife
now, she has to come with me, and I'm just being effective. As you've heard,
there are more knaves in the Seven Kingdoms that have to be brought to
justice."
Lord Tyrion laughed by coughing into his hand, and Sansa was close to fainting.
But then, the short man said, "Ah, you see, I'm not your enemy, Ser Guy. It
would give me great pleasure to see my father outwitted, and while I'll be sad
to see you go, Lady Sansa, I know you'll be in the West, which isn't too bad
either. Ser Guy, I take it you'll make sure that your wife won't be able to,
say, flee to the Riverlands?"
 
Guy of Gisborne blew the air through his nose. It sounded arrogant.
"She's mine now, and I keep what's mine. Be it a wife or a position in the
Westerlands."
Tyrion nodded.
"Good man. Now. Here are some provision as well as five men who'll accompany
you to Nottingham. Few enough to move quickly, but at the same time enough to
grant you a minimum of safety."
Ser Guy replied, "Your Lord Father will become even angrier than he already is
about this matter. And that will make him... dangerous."
Tyrion chuckled at that.
"He's always angry and dangerous. Take this advice from a man who's survived in
his presence for many years now: don't disappoint him - at the same time, make
him need you. As long as he needs your help with regard to these outlaws, for
example, you should be relatively safe. For Westerosi standards, I mean."
 
The two men exchanged an intense, long glance that contained a whole
conversation. It took Sansa a moment to understand what Tyrion had just told
her bridegroom: that Lord Tywin probably wanted to see him dead... and that on
the one hand, Ser Guy should have some success at fighting the band of
criminals, but that on the other hand, he shouldn't be downright victorious.
Gods!
 
Sansa watched the two men nod at one another.
Then, the Imp said to her, "Lady Sansa. Take this horse from me... as the
smallest possible kind of compensation. Her name is Goldbells."
"Thank you, Lord Tyrion," she breathed. "Thank you so much."
She wondered whether the short man's behaviour was a sign of real sympathy or a
typical political Lannister move in the Game of Thrones. Probably, it was a bit
of both. The Imp wasn't the worst Lannister... but a Lannister he still was.
 
Ser Guy turned to her at this point and said, "My lady."
He helped her up onto the back of her new horse. Then, he mounted his own
steed, a dark courser that reminded her of the Hound's Stranger. Was it a
standard pattern that gloomy, dangerous men had to ride black horses? She
didn't know and didn't have the time to think about it any further since the
armed men were now mounting their own horses.
The autumn sun was shining above them, and Sansa knew that an exhausting
afternoon would lie before them... in case they didn't encounter any obstacles.
As if he sensed her worries, Ser Guy glowered at her and held up the parchment
with the king's seal. Sansa nodded back at him and tried to feel confident.
Then, she sent a goodbye into Lord Tyrion's direction. The Imp smiled back at
her, nodded as well, and waddled back into the Red Keep.
 
That was the sign for Ser Guy to chirrup and to turn around their horses to the
castle gates. Off they trotted. The guards looked at Sansa and hesitated but
didn't hold back the group of riders. Moments later, they were beyond the
castle grounds.
It took them a while to cross King's Landing as it was market day and the
streets were crowded. When they reached the city gates, the guards on duty were
reluctant to let Sansa go - but then, Ser Guy showed them the King's seal and
rasped at them in such an aggressive way that the men seemed close to making
water on themselves. Sansa held her breath.
Moments later, they were out in the open. The Kingsroad lay ahead of them.
Sansa's hands holding the reins started to tremble, and tears pooled in her
eyes. Ser Guy of Gisborne had achieved what even her own brother Robb had not
been able to do: to get her out of the vipers' nest called King's Landing. She
resolved to pay her bridegroom with any favour he wanted from her, even if he
was a bad person - not just because it was her wifely duty, but also because
she owed him her devotion after what he'd just done for her.
***** On the road *****
Chapter Notes
     Some notes from my side - I've marked the story "explicit", but I've
     got no plans yet as to when smut will become a topic. I just wanted
     to have you ready. As one can see, this was a pretty wild headstart
     right into the story, and I'm really just blurting out one sentence
     after another without really knowing what will come next. Which means
     I'm still quite flexible. I should add that I'm NOT picturing Sansa
     according to book age whereas I do other details. Considering this
     new pairing, it is clear that there will and have to be some changes
     made with regard to Robin Hood show!canon - after all, it has to be
     squeezed into the Westeros setting. I hope to do it in a way that
     will still come across as adequate.
As soon as Guy helped Sansa mount her horse, he knew her riding abilities to be
miserable. At best. He guessed she had mostly used carts and carriages in the
past. Thus, he waited for her plea to make a break as soon as they left the
capital. To his surprise, his wife didn't make a peep. Before they had left the
Red Keep they'd been to the privy, but it still surprised Guy Sansa Stark
didn't bring up the topic of her most basic needs - not even after five hours
in the saddle.
 
From the corner of his eyes, he could see his bride was suffering from cramps,
had tears in her eyes, and was nearly falling off her horse... and yet, she
didn't complain, but kept on advancing. Her behaviour told Guy a lot. For
instance, there was her incredibly intense need to put some distance between
herself and the capital. Given what she had obviously experienced there, the
attitude was understandable. Still. The fact that a pampered lady like her kept
on going beyond her personal limits told him that she had to possess an inner
strength few people had.
"The very fact that she's survived and not lost her mental sanity speaks
volumes," Ser Guy mused and became more and more interested in his young
bride's personality.
Then again... what did he know about her mental state? They had been riding in
silence, with the only exception being that he had told the men-at-arms which
route he intended to take to Nottingham. While he was eager to bring down the
outlaws in the Sherwood Forrest, he wanted to avoid the woods on his way to the
sheriff. Firstly, they were not so many people, and secondly, he meant to avoid
all possible dangers for his young wife.
Which brought Guy back to the problem of her exhaustion. He could see she could
go no further.
 
Thus, he called, "Right, men! The horses are tired and the sun will set in
about an hour. Make camp."
He knew the men knew he was doing this for his bride, but he didn't care. It
had been a long day for him, too. A wedding day. It was still surreal for him.
When Guy helped Sansa off her horse, she squealed in pain, and her legs
couldn't suppor her anymore. It was so bad that Guy had to carry her behind a
bush so she could see to her private needs. It took her ages to do so, and Guy
was becoming worried when Sansa crawled into sight again on all fours. So he
approached her and carried her back to the camp. There, he placed her onto a
blanket and told her to wait and to relax until they'd have erected a tent and
prepared some food.
His bride thanked him in a croaking voice, and off the top of his head Guy
could have named a dozen lesser ladies who would have rather berated him in
this situation. Again, he wondered about Sansa Stark's qualities. He also asked
himself whether she probably had a worth that had nothing to do with her
ancestry and her nobility.
 
Fortunately, the men who were accompanying them were experienced ones, and soon
enough, they had built up a tent that was just big enough for Guy and Sansa.
Guy had a look at the bedroll and found out it was double-sized. He'd rather
have preferred two single bedrolls instead, but they had to live with what the
Lannister Imp had provided for them.
Guy helped Sansa into the tent, and she could still barely walk.
So he said, "My lady, this doesn't look good. You should have told us sooner.
Now, I must have a look at you, and I must push up your skirts. I'll likely
have to apply a salve."
Sansa went rigid.
Then, she said, "I understand. I... I'm ready to do my duty."
Guy blinked.
"What do you mean, du-?"
He trailed off, then spoke up again, scandalised.
"Are you mad, my lady? We're both not interested in one another, we didn't want
to marry one another, and we're both exhausted and sore. As if I wanted to
consummate our marriage! And under such circumstances! I'll have to take care
of your wounds, and we'll have to share this bedroll, and that's all there is
to say."
 
While he had been speaking, Sansa had pulled in her head and had closed her
eyes. Guy knew his words were harsh, but he was still annoyed. So much as to
her alleged hidden qualities!
He breathed in and out and said in a calmer voice, "Now. Let's see how badly
you're hurt."
When he exposed her private parts, her already taut body went even more rigid,
and she flushed a deep red. Guy's eyes widened, but it had nothing to do with
her feminine physique. What he saw was raw, bleeding flesh and blisters
everywhere. Nothing he might have done on a normal wedding night could have
left her so badly hurt.
Guy uttered a short, sharp curse. How, in the name of the Seven, had Sansa
Stark been able to stay on horseback for so long? Guy cursed again, and fetched
a salve from a saddle bag. He applied it to her oozing, red thighs and buttocks
and ranted in a subdued voice, "My lady, this has been foolish! Let's hope
you'll heal nicely over night. We've got to go on tomorrow after all. If you're
not much better, we'll have to build you a stretcher."
"I'm sorry," his bride answered.
 
Guy glowered down at her and lowered her skirts again.
He grumbled, "Now that's it for the moment. I'll see whether our men have
caught some game in the meantime. It's still before sunset and a fresh hare or
two would help us not to reduce our provisions too quickly. Are you thirsty?"
He didn't wait for a reaction. "Of course you are. Wait, I'll get you some
water, and perhaps one of the men has got some strongwine. It'll help you sleep
and heal better."
 
He was just about to rise when his young wife took hold of his hand.
"My lord, please. Thank you so much," she whispered.
Guy blinked, because she looked as if she meant what she was saying. There was
genuine gratitude in her eyes. It unsettled him in a way he had no words for.
People were never grateful for his actions, nor did he give them any reasons to
be so. He looked at their touching hands and wondered about his bride's sanity
again. If Sansa Stark... Sansa of Gisborne... was grateful for his - frankly -
rude behaviour, what had she endured at the hands of the Lannisters and the
king then?
Guy knew he normally lacked compassion, because it equalled weakness all too
often. Yet, in this particular situation, he did feel the tiniest spark of
empathy, there was no denying it. Only he didn' want to pity this young woman.
Surely, there was no good in that. So he uttered a growl and got back to his
feet.
Next, he left the tent and focused on his men-at-arms. One look at the camp
fire, and he felt something like defiant relief: the guards had really managed
to kill a rabbit. That was something he could focus on. Something practical.
With stiff strides, he stomped over to the fire, told a man to serve his bride
a crisp piece of flesh and to bring her something to drink as well; afterwards,
he drank and ate his own ration with an appetite. Only then did he admit to
himself how exhausted he was, and he went back to his tent. By that time, the
sun had set, the first vigil had taken up position, and Sansa was already sound
asleep. That was good.
Guy uttered a shaky sigh and slipped into the bedroll at her side. He had no
need for any further complications that night and just wanted a measure of
peace so that in the morning he'd be fit to face another day of madness.
***** In the morning *****
Sansa woke up at some point and felt heavy and warm and quite good... until she
moved minimally. The same instant, her legs and buttocks felt as if they were
on fire and she had a hard time not to whimper.
The next moment, weird memories flooded her brain. And... she noticed she was
sharing a bedroll with a big, warm, sleeping body.
"Ser Guy of Gisborne," she thought, her eyes growing wide.
Sansa realised her body was flush against his, and he had even wrapped a heavy
arm around her middle. Her head was even resting on his shoulder.
 
Sansa's heartbeat started to accelerate promptly. Her wakening senses told her
outside the tent there was the first grey of dawn. And on the inside, well...
the two of them were not emanating the scent of roses after the last day in the
saddle, to put it mildly. Sansa blushed when she noticed her own stench was
worse because of the salve she had needed for her sore legs.
She tried to flex her thigh muscles a second time and winced at the pain that
exploded within her again. Ser Guy uttered a sleepy grumble in response.
 
"It's nowhere near as bad as it felt yesterday evening, but I can't ride all
day. Likely not even an hour,"Sansa admitted to herself and blushed in shame.
"Arya would just hop onto my horse's back like an overactive flea."
The thought of her little sister made her sad. So she rather focused on the man
she was half lying on. Her... husband.
 
Sansa still couldn't make heads or tails of all the things that had happened.
The day before, she hadn't been able to give anything a second thought, so
there was a lot to catch up to now.
"Ser Guy wasn't cruel to me the way Joffrey would have been," she mused. "Oh,
he's not a nice man, but he didn't force himself onto me. Granted, it was
because he wasn't interested in the first place, but still... And he took care
of my wounds."
Sansa blushed when she remembered that her bridegroom had seen her most private
parts, but she told herself that such intimate knowledge was supposed to be
normal between spouses.
The point was that they still didn't know a thing about one another. They
hadn't exchanged a single syllable that went beyond pulling through the day.
"How warm he is," it occured to Sansa, unbidden. "It somehow makes me feel
safe. But that's ridiculous!"
She knew there wasn't a single safe place in Westeros.
 
At that moment, Ser Guy stirred underneath her. His stiffening body revealed
the moment when he woke up and realised the position he was in. At once, he
withdrew his arms from around her middle.
"Good morning, my lord," Sansa yawned and rubbed her eyes. "I've just awoken,
too. Did you sleep well?"
After all, she had to take care of her husband's needs.
Ser Guy, however, countered her question with an own one.
"How are your legs?"
"A little better, thank you my lord."
Her husband snorted.
"A little? Not fit for riding then, not by any stretch."
 
Sansa squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry."
Ser Guy harrumphed, freed himself from underneath her, and rose.
"We'll have to make a stretcher for you then. In the evening, your legs will be
better - but by then, your back will be sore from the bumpy road. If we're
lucky, we'll find an inn and enjoy some comfort. I don't think we're being
followed by anyone from the capital, for whichever reason."
Sansa blinked.
"Why do you think so, my lord?"
"Because anyone who'd have wanted to drag us back to the capital in shackles
could have easily caught up with us by now."
Sansa lowered her eyes.
"I see. I... I'm a burden for you. I'm slowing you down."
Ser Guy cocked his head and stared at her intensely, but there wasn't enough
light in the tent to read his expression.
After a moment, he said, "Let me see your healing process."
He lighted a candle and put it into a lantern. Next, he turned towards her and
pushed up Sansa's skirts like he had done on the previous evening. Sansa
squeezed her eyes shut once more, and her ears heated up. She only dared to
look at her husband again when he lowered her skirts, stood up, and averted
himself.
"Could have been better, but at least it's not festering," he growled. "I'm
outside with my men now."
 
After this, the morning proceeded with all the practical issues one could
expect: a quick breakfast, the deconstruction of the tent, the preparation of
the horses, and the making of the stretcher. Sansa was loath to be an obstacle,
but there was no helping it. At least, she got the chance for a wash since
there was a little stream nearby.
She noticed her husband had cleaned himself as well: the dark strands of his
hair were moist and hung into his face. Sansa felt the confusing itch to brush
one particularly obnoxious lock away, but she kept her fingers to herself. She
and Ser Guy weren't close enough for such a gesture. Would that ever change?
Sansa wasn't sure. Her husband was remote.
"He's got high walls around himself. Just like me,"she mused.
 
Soon after they had broken their fast, Ser Guy ordered Sansa to lie down on the
stretcher, and Sansa obeyed at once. The ends of the construction would scratch
the road, which meant her husband had been right: her back would be sore in the
evening. For the time being, however, this was still better than riding. And
much, MUCH better than spending yet another day in Joffrey's surroundings.
Sansa sighed and resigned herself to her fate.
***** Confusion *****
Ser Guy felt as if he didn't know himself anymore. He had never been hesitant
of bringing about justice, and if inflicting pain and death was part of it, so
be it.
But now... things were different. He had never dared to dream of a wife, even
less of a noblewoman who'd marry him. The memories of people defying him for
his humble origins had never ceased to pain him.
And yet here she was, Lady Sansa, the most noble noblewoman there was, his
wife. She didn't care much for who he was, or how noble. It was a mystery to
him. She looked at him as if he were a better man than he actually was. It was
creeepy, no less. Ser Guy wondered how badly she had been damaged in King's
Landing.
Step by step, Guy realised he had actually been dreaming of a  wife. Of a home.
Of a place where he'd belong. Only he'd never been in the position to nourish
these dreams actively. There had been the smallest chances to ever realise
them, simple as that.
But now, Ser Guy did have a wife. A most noble lady. A breathtakingly beautiful
one, even. Gods, how could someone be so beautiful? Had the king been blind or
mad or both to set her aside?
If only he knew what to do with her. Lady Sansa was his burden now. Or rather a
responsibility.
That they didn't come across any inns near the Kingsroad the wars had left
intact didn't do anything to improve their situation. The only comfort they
could have was to sleep in a barn, and once, Guy was able to purchase two
peasant dresses for Lady Sansa, because it was simply too bad to see her in her
tight court dresses. Really, what had the royal family been thinking of her
ward? And the gratitude in her eyes for such a humble gift was frankly more
humiliating than anything else.
But Lady Sansa was more than a duty, that much he realised all too quickly on
his way to Nottingham. She was barely a woman - but there was a wisdom in her
eyes that spoke of the horrors she had encountered at a young age. Guy had
experienced too many bad things himself when he'd been too young as well. So he
felt the acute need to keep his young wife safe, strange as it was and even
though he didn't know her at all.
Nobody had ever inspired such a reaction within Ser Guy. Normally, a mother
could clutch a child to her chest, and he'd still cut the boy down without
second thoughts if he was an outlaw.
It was a most confusing thing that he felt different around Lady Sansa.
Compassion wasn't anything he'd ever known. Compassion only rendered you weak.
It aleays did.
And Guy knew the men-at-arms that were accompanying him were exchanging glances
because they'd noticed he wasn't bedding his lady wife. Just how could he
explain to them that he wasn't aroused around his wife? And not only because
he'd had a kitchen wench for two days, back in the capital? How could he
possibly explain that Lady Sansa sleeping in his arms meant more to him than
any position and any title? Bah, there were no words he could have expressed
that would have left Guy above sissy level.
He didn't even understand it himself. He was a man grown. He did have adult
needs. Only... he'd never felt understood by any lover. Not by anyone. And
Sansa Gisborne-Stark looked at him with her oh so blue eyes as if she
understood him although they didn't know each other. They didn't even talk a
lot while they where travelling. Their conversation didn't go beyond what was
absolutely necessary. She never complained about how sore she was because of
their travelling. Instead, she thanked him for any rude gesture of his. Guy
didn't understand. He didn't. Not a fraction of it. But he did realise he was
already close to getting addicted to the way his unknown wife was leaning up
flush against his body every single night. To the way she simply opened up to
him although he'd never done a thing to deserve any kind of adoration.
 
Guy quickly came to know his young wife was suffering from nightmares. The way
she tossed and turned and cried at night spoke volumes. He didn't know how to
react then. He'd never spent any more time with a woman than it needed to fuck
her. So all he could do was to wrap his arms around her, or to comb his fingers
through her hair and let her cry. Strangely enough, that did help more often
than not.
What was far more embarrassing was that his lady wife noticed his own
nightmares at times. Guy dreamed of burning houses and lepers and losing
people. Which was no wonder, given how he had lost his family. Only he'd never
met anyone who'd embrace him, who'd soothe him as if he were a child. But Lady
Sansa did so although he'd never asked for such a thing. He once woke up in
their tent at the hour of the wolf, crying like a baby - and Lady Sansa, who
was barely more than a girl, was holding him and telling him that whatever
horrors he was seeing were gone. She didn't treat him as if he were an
unimportant sod. It was the first time in his life Guy didn't feel weak, and it
unsettled him like few things before had done.
He swore to himself then that he'd somehow try to make his wife happy. He
didn't have a clue at how to accomplish such a task, even less since he didn't
know her, but he'd never been so resolved about anything in his life.
***** Whoops *****
Chapter Notes
     Ready for some awkwardness? There will be plenty!
The day they left the Kingsroad and moved on to the road to Nottinghamshire,
the weather turned foul, and they were all freezing from the cold rain. So it
was a welcome change for everyone when they finally reached an inn that was
still being run by a publican, unlike the ruins they had passed previously.
One man-at-arms informed them, "In contrast to the Riverlands, this region has
remained largely untouched by the wars. The worst effect for the people here
are the taxes they have to pay for the warfare."
Sansa was glad her new home wasn't gravely affected by the fighting. She had
witnessed enough misery in the past.
Her husband looked at the inviting building and said, "Hopefully, it'll stay
that way. I guess it'll be my task to make the citizens pay - one way or
another."
A shudder crept down Sansa's spine, and it had nothing to do with the weather.
Meanwhile, Guy went on, "But we'll leave that for another day. Today, we'll
have a warm place to sleep in and a platter of hot food."
The men cheered, and the smile returned to Sansa's face.
 
When they entered the common room, Guy asked for the best guest chamber for
Sansa and himself, as well as for a hot bath. The idea of cleaning herself
appealed immensely to Sansa.
A buxom kitchen wench led them upstairs at once. To Sansa's relief, the room
was big and clean, and the bed looked so comfortable she wanted to weep. After
all these nights on the road, her whole body felt battered, so the prospect of
sweet dreams improved her spirits beyond all limits.
Together, they positioned their belongings in a trunk, and when they had just
finished doing so, the door opened again, and two strong men carried in a giant
wooden tub. Sansa was surprised - normal tubs were usually just big enough so
that one person could sit in it; this container, however, was much bigger. The
publican informed them that they had just finished their washing day, so it
would take some time to make fresh hot water.
As it was, Guy and Sansa joined their men in the common room again and enjoyed
a hearty supper consisting of pearl barley and roast mutton in a gravy sauce.
To Sansa's utter delight, there was also a persimmon cream to be had as a
dessert. Guy was fortunately of a mind to indulge her sweet tooth. Because of
the cold weather, they all chose mulled wine to wash down the food. The taste
was delicious, and the portions were so big Sansa soon felt as if she'd burst
apart if she ate one more spoonful. Not having drunk any alcohol in a while,
she could feel its effects, but she didn't mind being lightheaded.
 
She noticed that her husband wasn't much of a drinker, in contrast to the
Hound.
When he had emptied his tankard, Guy said to her, "Take your time finishing
your drink. I'll check on our bath. Come up when you're done."
Sansa simply beamed at him and nodded avidly, because her mouth was full of the
tasty persimmon cream that somehow made it down her throat, no matter how full
she was. Their guards were in high spirits, too, and nursing their own
tankards. They kept an eye on Sansa until she excused herself to join her
husband.
 
On the stairs, she heard Guy's angry voice bark at someone, and Sansa furrowed
her brow. What was going on?
Moments later, a sniffling kitchen wench emerged, curtsied as soon as she saw
Sansa, apologised, and hurried downstairs.
Sansa blinked. What in the name of the Seven...? Quickly, she dashed into the
chamber they'd hired for the night.
 
Inside, she stopped dead in her tracks and nearly toppled over: Guy was
standing next to the bed, glowering and fuming... and bare-chested. So far,
they had always kept on their clothes, and while Sansa had known her husband to
be lean and fit and muscled, she had never seen any details.
Guy's eyes were on the bathtub, and he growled, "Incompetent sods! The tub is
too big! You can't make enough warm water to have it warm in the tub,
especially if two people want to bathe. If one of us doesn't want to freeze his
arse off in barely lukewarm water, we've got to bathe at the same time. -
Grrrrr! Ah, oh well, we're married, so I guess we must get used to such things
at some point anyway."
It was then that Guy looked at her. He frowned.
"What are you staring at?"
 
Desperately, Sansa tried to come up with an intelligent answer, but her brain
felt strangely fuzzy all of a sudden.
"You don't have any chest hair?" she asked sheepishly.
Her husband stiffened.
"I shave," he answered in an annoyed tone. "Don't want to get it stuck in the
chainmail."
Sansa found it weird since men didn't wear chainmail on their bare skin, or did
they? Was it some sort of excuse? Hmm... Sansa found it prudent not to pry into
these details any more. She couldn't have done so anyway since her husband was
just peeling off his black leather trews and was now standing in front of her
naked as his nameday.
Sansa's ears started to burn. Granted, she had seen naked Hodor in the Godswood
once, but she'd never seen a man so close... even less such an impressive man.
Ser Guy of Gisborne... he was... mind-boggling. Overwhelming.
 
Without seeming to notice her state of utter confusion, he pointed with his
chin at her and rumbled, "You'll need to put off your dress - or do you want to
bathe in cold water later?"
In a flurry, Sansa's hands set into motion to obey her husband. It was good she
was wearing a peasant's dress: the laces were at the front and you didn't need
a maid to dress and undress. When she was naked, Guy had turned his back on her
and was already stepping into the bathtub. When he had submerged himself into
the water, Sansa followed suit and sat down on his lap. She knew her face would
be bright pink from embarrassment by now.
As an aside, she noticed Guy was right: the water wouldn't be warm long... but
she was feeling a heat inside of her that went far beyond what the bath
offered. Gracious gods! She was surrounded by an awful amount of manliness! So
much... skin. Body. She tried to find a better position - and suddenly, she
sensed something harden below her. At first, she was puzzled, but then, her
eyes widened.
"Oh please," Ser Guy growled. "That's just my cock. He's not used to a maid
wiggling atop him. There's no mystery to it. He'll calm down soon enough."
Sansa swallowed hard, and her stomach felt as if it were full of ants. The
lightheadedness from the mulled wine didn't do anything to improve her state.
"I... I see," she managed to answer and tried to resort to some practical
topic. "Now where's the soap?"
She found the bar, grabbed it... and it slid from her fingers into the water.
"Whoops", she said, knelt and tried to get a hold of the soap in the water...
only she accidentally knelt right onto it in her nervousness, slipped and -
"OUCH!" she squeaked as she impaled herself on her husband.
 
Ser Guy went rigid underneath her - or rather the part that wasn't hard
already. He gulped.
Then, he asked in a shaky voice, "You all right?"
Sansa was panting, licked her lips, and didn't quite know what to say or to
think.
She breathed, "Are we consummating...?"
"Technically yes."
"I'm not a maid anymore?"
Ser Guy snorted, then closed his eyes.
"My cock is right up your cunt - what do you think?"
"Oh. Er. Yes. And... now?"
 
Sansa was so overwhelmed she didn't know how to process it all. Was she
relieved? The joining had been simple, it hadn't hurt overly - but GODS was he
close!
Her husband breathed in and out.
"I think my cock is already making a strategic withdrawal. See?"
Indeed. Sansa could feel him soften and slip out of her. Was that emotion she
was feeling... disappointment? Surely not?
 
Her husband repeated his earlier question.
"Are you all right?"
Sansa turned and looked at the man she had married. She detected a maelstrom of
emotions in his blue eyes.
"Is he as confused as I am?" she asked herself. "But how can that be? He's a
man grown. This can't have been his first time. Surely he knows what he's
doing?"
"I'm fine, thanks for asking," she peeped. Next, she emphasized, "It wasn't
revolting at all."
Ser Guy arched an eyebrow and plastered a warped smirk onto his face no actor
of any renown would have ever called "credible".
"Not... revolting? Oh, well. Splendid, splendid."
 
Sansa didn't know what to say to that, so her mouth bypassed her brain and
prattled, "Will we repeat it soon seen? I mean, we'll have to repeat it if we
want to have babies, right? That's what my septa said. Only I always thought
I'd have to lie back. I didn't know it would work this way - though I guess I
should have imagined that different positions are possible when I saw those
dogs mating in the yard of the Red Keep."
"Sansa."
Guy squeezed his eyes shut.
"Yes, my lord?"
"I think it would be wise not to say any more on the matter. For the time
being."
Sansa blinked.
"Oh. Err. All right. What should we talk about then?"
"JUST BATHE."
***** Questions *****
Guy didn't give a fig about religion, but right now, he was willing to swear to
whatever gods existed that he had only meant to get his young wife accustomed
to him - and not to accidentally take her maidenhood. At the same time, Guy
asked himself what he'd done to deserve this kind of un-fuck of the decade. All
right, all right, he'd probably done more than enough to deserve such a mess -
but what about Sansa? Granted, life wasn't fair, not at all, but surely this
went even beyond anything a god should be willing to accept, given how she'd
been forced to witness her father's execution and everything.


Guy also asked himself how it had all gone so wrong. After he had heard his
men-at-arms sing "The Bear and the Maiden Fair" one night in camp, he'd shaved
his chest to look at least a tad less intimidating, but if he considered
Sansa's reaction, he had rather confused her than anything else.
Right before the bath, Guy had looked at her as little as possible to avoid an
erection, but once Sansa had been in the water with him, his cock had got other
ideas. And then... and then... HOT DAMN.
It had been surreal and ridiculous in equal parts. And it had unsettled him to
an extent that his cock had simply given up.
And Sansa fucking Gisborne-Stark? Well, he guessed he had to be grateful she
hadn't turned into a simpering blubbering mess - but her naive prattling had
only served to make things worse with every word she uttered.


Now, they were in bed together... and his wife had fallen asleep before she had
even put on a shift. She was in his arms, flush against him, and both of them
naked as their namedays. Only while tipsy Sansa was slumbering happily as if he
had utterly exhausted and satisfied her in the marriage bed, Guy was unable to
find peace. He wasn't used to holding a woman like this after he'd fucked her.
The facts that post-bath Sansa smelled sweet and had a skin that was smooth
like clotted cream didn't help anything to calm him down. Her little teats were
pressed against his torso, and he could feel her nipples. Guy desperately
thought of the most disgusting things he'd experienced in his life - and there
had been countless.
But when his wife rubbed her nose against his collarbone in her sleep, Guy's
cock hardened again, there was no helping it. Curse it all! He only managed to
doze off around the hour of the wolf.


He woke up in the morning when he sensed a heavy weight on his mid-section. His
still heavy eyelids snapped open... only to behold his blushing wife, who had
straddled him like she had done the evening before. While Guy's sleep-depraved
brain was still having a hard to come to terms with what was going on, his cock
twitched in merry enthusiasm.
"Good morning, my lord," Sansa breathed and couldn't look him in the eyes. But
she seemed to be utterly - errr - concentrated on what she was doing. "I... I
noticed your arousal, Guy, and I hope that this is better than yesterday
evening. What do I have to do now?"


Guy got onto his elbows, looked at where their bodies where joined, then rubbed
his face in disbelief. He was close to telling her it wasn't necessary to deal
with every single morning erection he had - but his throat was suddenly dry,
and he couldn't say the words.
Instead, he sat up, wrapped an arm around her and ran the fingers of his second
hand through her hair. He didn't know how to fuck an inexperienced woman, but
since they were both in this now, he guessed he had to try to make it as good
as possible for her. If only he knew what that was...


"Do you feel any pain?" he asked.
Sansa shook her head.
"Not at all," she murmured. "It's just... overwhelming."
Guy assumed that "overwhelming" was better than "not revolting".


"Come here," he growled in a voice he'd usually use to calm down a skittish
colt. "Let me turn you around and show you how it works."
Slowly, Guy placed Sansa onto her back and started to rock against her. His
wife gasped and looked at him with huge eyes.
So he explained, "This is when our instincts slowly start to take over."
He retrated and then slid back into her. There was a wet little noise, and
Sansa uttered a soft mewl.
It was getting difficult for Guy to talk, but he managed to say, "It's all
right to lose control. Just let your body feel what it needs to feel. There's
no shame in it. Not at all. Let yourself go. Do you understand?"
Sansa looked at him as if she had never heard a woman could and should enjoy
this, and Guy wanted to bash in the faces of those who'd kept her so clueless.
At least she was willing to accept his words and nodded after a moment.
So Guy continued to slide in and out, in and out, in a measured pace. Normally,
he wasn't so controlled, but he didn't know how much his young wife could
already take.


As a result, it took ages and went far beyond the few minutes of passion Guy
was accustomed to. To his surprise - and his delight - Sansa relaxed in his ams
and slowly started to move along with him.
"Yes," he murmured into her ears. "Gods, yes. That's it."
Sansa started to utter more little mewls, and Guy couldn't hold back his own
groans anymore. He hadn't known these things could be delicious in such a way,
and he wanted the moment to last forever. His wife was incredibly beautiful in
the throes of her passion: her blue eyes glazed with lust, her cheeks flushed,
her lips a dark red...
Gods, and the rest of her body! Her rosy nipples were hard, and Guy's hands
started to give them the attention they seemed to crave.
That caused Sansa's mewls to turn into throaty moans.


Encouraged by her reactions, Guy let a hand sneak further down to where they
were united. He had never taken care of a woman's lust like that, but he had
heard women had a sensitive spot down there, so perhaps he could -
"Aaah!" Sansa exclaimed and desperately bucked against him in order to get even
more friction.
Whoa, now this was something he hadn't anticipated. Brimming with enthusiasm,
Guy continued to caress her sensitive flesh, and he suddenly realised by her
tensing muscles Sansa was close to peaking. And then it happened: Sansa's eyes
snapped shut, and she squealed when sweet relief washed over her. Guy felt the
spasms of her cunt, and that was when he lost control. Hungrily, he thrust into
her twitching body and couldn't have stopped if his life had depended on it. He
heard Sansa squeal some more, and then, he tensed as well, groaned loudly, and
exploded.


Afterwards, he rolled off of his wife, because he didn't want to crush her with
his weight. He was panting, his muscles became heavy and his mind fuzzy. While
he was dozing off, he felt Sansa's lips on his own, and he smiled, wondering if
this was what the seven heavens were like.
 
***** Getting to know a few things *****
They woke up when the publican hammered on their door and called, "If you stay
any longer, you've got to pay for a second night."
Sansa sat bolt upright in shock, and so did Guy. She noticed he reacted more
quickly than her: a dark anger bloomed inside of him, he growled and showed his
teeth. Sansa was afraid he'd turn violent, but then, he called back, "We'll be
gone in five minutes. Make sure we've got a breakfast ready downstairs by then
- or YOU will pay."


When the squeaking wooden staircase told them the publican was on his way to
prepare some food for them, Guy rose from under the furs. Sansa quickly averted
her eyes and blushed, remembering what had happened the evening before. Sweet
Mother, have mercy! The outrageousness of what they'd shared! She had had no
idea of the intensity of it all!


Her husband, however, clearly was in no mood for romantic reminescences.
He spoke, "Hurry up, wife. If it were just about us, I'd pay for a second
night, but we must reach Nottingham soon. I don't want Tywin Lannister hear of
us arriving late."
Sansa understood and added, "Indeed. He wouldn't take kindly to it. Wait, I'm
on my way."


Five minutes later, they arrived in the common room, just like they had
promised. Her growling stomach told Sansa then that she was so hungry she'd
surely be able to eat a whole pig. Fortunetely, the publican had arranged a big
platter for them.


When she started to wolf down her food in a most unladylike way, she sensed her
huband's eyes on her. He started to smirk, and Sansa blushed.
Next, he leaned over and murmured into her ear, "A decent tryst does have these
effects on one's appetite."
Sansa's ears started to burn, she squeezed her eyes shut and pulled in her
head. Gods, the shame! And Guy looked as if he were feeling an impish delight
at the sight of her embarrassment.
She quacked, "You're not gallant, my lord!"
Her husband continued to grin at her and replied, "Of course not. I never am. I
don't even know how to spell that word. But I've got some other qualities."
Sansa choked on a swig of goats' milk until white droplets shot out of her
nose, and she coughed like mad. Guy clapped her on the back.


As soon as Sansa had recovered, she grabbed a last roll, rose, and made for the
stable. Their men were already preparing the horses. Sansa blushed again when
she noticed the gards exchange some glances and grin at each other. Gah! It
looked as if her plight wasn't going to end any time soon.


At least Sansa's mare was just happy to see her and welcomed her with joyful
snickering. Sansa was slowly warming up to the horse, and in the course of
their trip, she'd learned to ride longer each day, especially after she'd got
her new dresses and was able to have a more relaxed posture.


Their group set out from the inn soon after, and one of the men told them
they'd reach Nottingham the same evening - after nightfall, sure, so they'd
have to be very careful about the way, but at least they wouldn't have to spend
another night in a tent.


So off they went, and they only stopped rarely for brief pauses. While they
were eating up the miles on their horses, Sansa felt the need to talk to her
husband. After all, she had got to know him in a most intimate way, but she
didn't know anything else about him. As a consequence, she directed her horse
next to his.
"The landscape of Nottinghamshire is quite beautiful, don't you think?" she
asked and pointed at the first emerging trees of Sherwood Forrest.
"If you think so," her husband answered.
Sansa didn't quite know what to make of his reaction.
Carefully, she prodded him some more.
"Have you seen other regions you like better?"
Guy bethought himself for a moment.
"I don't care about landscapes. At least not any further than it needs to hunt
down a criminal."


Sansa formed an "O" with her mouth and was momentarily at a loss as to what to
reply to that.
Then, she asked, "But you've seen much of the Seven Kingdoms? Where are you
from?"
Guy cast her a side glance.
"I was born in Pentos, but I came here to Westeros when I was a child. As you
know, I've worked in the Riverlands. I've also been in this area before."


At once, Sansa was thrilled.
"You know Nottinghamshire? Do you know the Sheriff of Nottingham, too?"
Guy shook his head.
"The man is an upstart. Like myself, one could say."
At that point, Sansa leaned over and placed her hand on his arm, but Guy looked
at her firmly and pointed out, "I'm not sorry for fighting for my place in this
world."
Somehow, the statement touched Sansa, though she couldn't have said in which
way.
She answered, "In a way, we all have got to fight for our place in the world,
haven't we?"
Guy cast her a serious side glance.
"Probably so."


Sansa's heart beat faster. Her taciturn husband was really talking to her! And
he wasn't treating her as a stupid girl, but actually considering her words.
She realised that this was something she needed in a relationship - perhaps
more than good looks... though her husband was handsome in a dark way.
"Guy is able to see me as an individual. He's able to take me seriously. That's
better than what I could expect from most men."
Sansa wondered how a man like Ser Guy of Gisborne could differ from so many
other men she'd met so much. She asked herself what he had experienced in the
past to end up with the mindset he had.


She had just reached this point in her line of thinking when they crossed the
outskirts of Sherwood Forrest... and the ambush began.
 
***** Outlaws *****
BONK! was the first treacherous thing Guy heard. His head whipped around, and
he saw a tree trunk swinging in the air, which had felled two of his men.
 "Damn!"  he thought, realising what was going on. He had chosen the route that
barely brought them into contact with Sherwood Forest, the route that only
brushed its outskirts - and that was the exact place where the outlaws had
awaited them!
 Fzzzzz!  an arrow whizzed past Guy and made impact with a shoulder of one of
his guards. The man howled in pain and fell off his horse.


Guy hollered in anger and grabbed his sword. Too late. Before he could draw it,
a big net fell down on him and a knave pulled him off his horse.
"Ouuufff!" Guy uttered when he landed on the hard ground and the air was
knocked from his lungs.
He wasn't able to follow the rest of the attack because of the tangled mess he
was in, but there were two more ugly hollow sounds, followed by another two
ugly thuds indicating falling bodies caused Guy's entrails to roil in abject
wrath.
Then, he thought,   "Sansa!"
At once, he felt icy fear course in his veins, and he fought the net he was
covered in to see whether his wife was all right. It was impossible to free
himself, sadly.


At this point, he heard a voice that intensified his already seething temper.
"Gisborne! Welcome in Sherwood Forest. As you can see, we've heard of your
coming."
It was then that Guy could see something through the meshes: a man with dark
blonde hair and an impish smirk on his face was standing at the other end of a
clearing and was pointing his bow and arrow at him.
But the real shock came when Guy saw his wife stand right in front of him - as
if she were shielding him from the outlaw's arrow. But how could that be?
Nobody had ever attempted to shield Guy from anyone or anything, even less a
peaceful woman like her.
"Hood!" he managed to holler, and the other man laughed.


"Don't you dare harm my husband!" the clearing suddenly resounded with Sansa's
voice, thus cutting off the criminal's sounds of levity.
When the knave spoke, his voice was honeyed, mixed with curiosity.
"Lady Sansa Stark, I presume? I welcome you in Sherwood Forest, too. We've
heard of your unfortunate wedding to this monster."


Guy's wife answered in a flat voice, "Lady Gisborne for you. It's not your
place to judge my wedded state. And given what you've just done to these
guards, you dubbing my husband a monster sounds out of place, don't you think?
Now, I tell you again: you will not harm my husband."


Guy could barely believe his ears, and his heart was beating fast. Where and
when had his wife picked up such courage? And the will to defend him, of all
people?
Obviously, he wasn't alone in his surprise as Robin Hood's voice rang with a
certain respect when he continued.
"Lady... Gisborne. I do apologise for the inconveniences, but I assure you that
we don't kill unless we have to. We take from the rich to give their valuables
to the poor to keep them alive despite the pressing taxes. That's also why I
have to ask you to contribute something to our cause now."
"Wait," Sansa answered in a cool voice and walked over to her belongings. "Take
these two court dresses and this necklace. It's Lannister gold. I haven't
brought along any other valuables you could rob from me."


Guy was still dumbfounded by the verbal exchange, and where he'd have fought
like a berserk under any other circumstances, he simply watched on, shocked by
it all.


Robin Hood approached them with a smile and a disgusting twinkle in his eyes
and took the things Sansa was offering him.
"I thank you, my lady. I promise these items will be put to good use. Of
course, my men will also relieve your guards from their purses. And you're sure
you don't have any other valuable thing to give me? What about a little kiss?"


Guy felt the need to roar his anger at the insolent man - only Sansa was faster
with her reaction once again.
"My kisses are for my husband alone."
Robin Hood sighed then.
"What a pity," he said. "Gisborne, I must admit your lady wife is an impressing
one. I keep wondering how someone so precious could be wasted on you."
"My lady wife told you not to judge her wedded state. Which part of that
sentence did you not understand, Hood?" Guy boomed.


The outlaw sighed again.
"Ah, now I'm starting to wonder if you deserve one another. But be that as it
may. We've finished our business here for the time being. - Men! Tie them to
that tree over there. Right. And now you will excuse us. We have to care for
the poor. But I take it we'll meet again at some point."
"Under different circumstances, Hood," Guy frothed. "I'll cut you open from
your navel upwards."


His words caused the knave to chuckle.
"That remains to be seen. Have a good day."
And then, Robin Hood and his Merry Men were gone, as quickly as they had
appeared.
 
***** Arrival *****
As soon as the criminals had taken their leave, all excess energy left Sansa
and she started to tremble uncontrollably. Had she not been tied to a tree
she'd have slipped to the ground. Guy, who was still covered by the net, was
tied to the other side of the trunk. He called over at the men-at-arms.
The two guards that had been knocked out by this Hodor-sized outlaw with his
staff were slowly coming back to their senses. One of them started to throw up
as soon as he got to his legs, a sign that he was concussed.
The second guard was still wobbly in his movements, but seemed to have taken
the blow with the staff better. He cut Sansa lose and freed Guy from the net.


At once, her husband was at her side - just in time to catch Sansa in his arms,
for her knees buckled under her. A sob emanated from her very core, and a
moment later, she was crying against his chest. Guy clutched her and uttered
soothing sounds into her hair.
"Sssht, Sansa! It's all right, it's all right. You're safe now. Stupid little
wife, to risk your life for mine. But you've been great, do you know that? So
brave!"
Sansa's teeth were starting to chatter so she couldn't answer. Instead, she
pressed herself even closer against her husband, and he kept his hold on her.


Then, Sansa could hear one guard say, "Ugh, that looks nasty. Willy must have a
broken cheekbone from that swinging log, and Tyrek a broken nose and a
concussion, just like Ron. The arrow in Kyle's shoulder isn't anything to joke
about either."
Guy answered to the man-at-arms above Sansa's head, "These shitstains!
Peregryne, are you able to ride? I don't think the outlaws will attack us
again, but we need a cart for the wounded. My wife's stretcher isn't enough.
And we need a healer."


At that moment, Sansa forced herself to calm down, and she said to her husband,
"Guy, you and I, we're unharmed. Peregryne may be half fit, but that outlaw's
staff has knocked him down, too. He should rest. You and I, we can easily speed
up on our horses when there's just the two of us."
Guy took her by the chin and looked her deep in the eyes.
"Are you sure you can ride?"
Sansa breathed in and out.
"Better than I could wait for help in the forest."
Her husband was hesitant for a moment, but then he nodded.
"All right, if that's what you want..."


He helped her mount her horse since she was still trembling. Sansa was grateful
the outlaws had only managed to steal three of their seven horses in the
hubbub, and that her mare was not among the animals gone missing.
Together, she and Guy cantered off. Their speed was tough, especially since the
sun was starting to set, but Sansa forced herself to keep up with her husband.
She was so worried about their men that it helped her to activate all the
strength she still had.


Together, they were so quick that they managed to reach the Castle of
Nottingham right after sunset. A herald announced their arrival.
Guy helped her when she dismounted the horse, and he supported her afterwards:
her thighs were burning and trembling, and she felt exhausted beyond measure.


She then noticed that a middle-aged, bearded, half bald man in a fur-trimmed
coat had appeared on the castle steps. He looked at them in the torchlight, and
Sansa noticed a keen intellect in his eyes.
"Ser Guy of Gisborne and Lady Sansa?" he asked.
"Indeed, mylord," Guy answered and bowed stiffly while Sansa curtsied. "I take
it you're the Sheriff of Nottingham?"
"Indeed, indeed, Vaisey of Nottingham," the man answered and smiled. "Glad to
have you here now. I got a raven a few days ago that informed me of your
imminent arrival. And what a beautiful young Lady of Gisborne we've got here,
hmmm?"


The Sheriff of Nottingham sounded friendly enough, but there was something
about him that made Sansa's skin crawl.
"Ah, I'm just paranoid after the things I've seen in King's Landing," she tried
to calm down herself and smiled at the sheriff.
The elderly man went on right away, "I'm just... surprised to see you arrive
alone. I expected you to be accompanied by some guards."


Guy's jaws worked.
"We were ambushed on the edge of Sherwood Forest. The guards are hurt. They
need a cart and a healer."
"Laa-di-daah," the sheriff waved off the plea for help in a bored tone, and
that was the moment when Sansa decided she didn't like the man. At all.
Vaisey of Nottingham turned to Sansa, still smiling, and commented in an almost
purring voice, "Now that's a poor way for your husband to start a new job as my
security man: getting waylaid and getting his men into trouble. Wouldn't you
agree, missy?"


"He's like bratty Joffrey and intelligent, cruel Tywin Lannister
combined!"Sansa thought. "May the gods have mercy on us!"
Aloud, she said, "We're just arriving here, and we still don't know any recent
details about Nottinghamshire. So it is no wonder such an incident has
happened. My husband will inform himself at once, of course. Still - our
injured men are out there and need our help."


The Sheriff rolled up his eyes.
"Do what you must then to get things organised. Gisborne, I'll be awaiting you
in five minutes in my solar for my first instructions. Tonight, you can sleep
here. From then on, you can take up lodgings in Locksley Manor."
"As you wish, my lord," Guy answered in that hollow, dark voice of his.
"Thank you, my lord," Sansa felt the need to say to uphold pretences.
The sheriff shot her another curt side glance and left.


At once, Guy barked at a stable boy to take care of their horses, and he
ordered a guard to organise a cart and a healer to fetch and to take care of
the wounded soldiers in Sherwood Forest. Next, he stopped an elderly servant
and tasked the man to prepare a guest room.
Then, Guy turned to Sansa and looked her in the eyes.
"Will you be all right, my lady?"
Sansa bit her lip and nodded.
"Don't worry," she answered in a small voice.
Guy breathed in and out.
"I'll join you as soon as possible."
Sansa nodded.
"I know. Thank you."


Guy hesitated for a moment. Then, he leaned in and gave her a quick peck on her
lips. At once, Sansa felt as if there was something bubbly in her stomach.
She breathed into her husband's ear, "Take care, my lord."
And Guy answered, "I will."
He gave her another quick peck, then turned and strode off to the sheriff's
solar.


Sansa squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and collected herself.
"This won't be easy,"she thought. "Not at all."
 
***** The first meeting *****
The way to the sheriff's solar didn't take him long. Guy had been in the castle
before, back when he'd been a youngster, and while he didn't have an in-depth
knowledge of the building, he was aware of the general layout.
The solar itself was spacious, but an assortment of cages with canary birds
dangling from the beams as well as a collection of skulls on a side rack gave
it an austere atmosphere.


The elderly sheriff rose from his high-backed armchair behind the desk and
smiled at Guy in a debonair way.
"Ah, there you are, Gizzy. I hope you don't mind me call you Gizzy, because
I'll do it anyway."
Guy felt as if his backbone was made of lead and resorted to silent glowering.
Meanwhile, the sheriff went on in an animated voice and pointed at his desk.
"Now. Here's a map of Nottinghamsire. Here are the castle and Nottingham, this
is Locksley Manor, here are the various hamlets and villages, and this giant
green area is Sherwood Forest. In other words: Hood territory."


Guy leaned foreward and took in all the details. He remembered many things from
his youth, but he had forgotten (or had tried to forget) some aspects. Anyway,
even the first glance at the map told him that his new task would be far more
complicated than the Brotherhood Without Banners in the Riverlands. Such a big
area covered with woodland was impossible to overlook or to control. If Guy
wanted to hunt down Robin Hood, he'd have to use all his cunning.


At that point, the Sheriff went on, "I should tell you of another problem, by
the way. There's not only this band of outlaws. There's also a single criminal
called "the Night Watchman". He's masked and as much of a devil as Robin Hood,
but he seems to be a lone wolf. Even so, he's responsible for the illegal
distribution of food and such things. The rabble adores him, of course. It'll
be your task to bring this man to justice alongside with Hood."


Guy arched an eyebrow, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and said, "I'll
see to that."
"Good for you," Sheriff Vaisey answered. "Then let's talk about the taxes.
It'll be your duty to enforce the law and to make the peasants pay their due
for Lord Lannister and the Crown."
Guy nodded. Of course, taxes had to be paid, especially in these times of war.
There was no way to avoid such things, uncomfortable as they were.


The sheriff pointed at the map again and continued, "You'll have to start your
tax tour tomorrow right away."
Guy stared at the map.
"I suggest we begin in Clunn, not in Locksley. I've already heard that Hood is
from Locksley, and you're allocating me the manor in that village. Surely,
he'll be awaiting us there first. And after his ambush today, I mean to show
him he's not the only one capable of unexpected moves."


On hearing these words, the sheriff shot him a dazzling smile.
"Aaaah, I like the way you think. Go ahead with your plan."
In an offhand aside, the man added, "Oh, and while you're collecting taxes, do
make sure to inflict some pain, hmmm? The poxy peasants have been far too
renitent of late, and they need to know their place."
Guy cast a dark glance at the sheriff.
"The peasants will pay their taxes, rest assured, my lord."
"Good, good. Now off you go. I take it there's this Stark missy who'll be
warming your bedsheets by now. Do have some fun then."


On hearing the sheriff refer to Sansa in such a way, Guy felt the need to beat
him to a pulp. Of course, it was no real option, but Guy did sport some violent
fantasies about what he wanted to do to the man.
Aloud, he said, "Good night, my lord."
As soon as he had left the solar, Guy balled his fists. Then, he thought of his
wife and felt the sudden need to go wash himself until his skin would come off.
 
***** A light in the darkness *****
Sansa looked at the single burning candle at her side and was waiting for her
husband, deep in thought. So much had occurred that day, and it was a good
opportunity to ponder the latest developments. At some point, she heard a
commotion in the yard. The window in her guest room was too small and too high
up in the wall to look out, but she recognised the voices of their guards -
finally, they had made it to Nottingham Castle! Sansa resolved at once to seek
them out the next day to make sure they were recovering well from the ambush.


A bit later, she heard some heavy footfall in the adjacent corridor, and the
chamber door opened. Guy came in, and Sansa wanted to greet him with a smile...
but then, she stopped dead and noticed how gloomy her husband was. At once, she
had dark premonitions about the nature of his meeting with the Sheriff of
Nottingham.


"Good evening, my lord," she said meekly.
Guy glowered at her, and Sansa came to understand she had to do something so as
not to lose her husband to the dark side. She knew him to be taciturn, but she
resolved to talk about anything that could weigh down his soul.


"The meeting with the sheriff didn't go well?" she asked.
Guy shrugged.
"As well as it could under the circumstances."
"But you're not content," Sansa prodded.
Guy's jaws worked. For a moment, it looked as if he'd refuse to give her an
answer.
Then, however, he said, "I've got some difficult tasks to do. Necessary tasks.
Someone has to carry them out. And if I didn't, someone else would."
"I see," Sansa said, carefully.
"No, you don't, woman," her husband growled and cast her a dark look. "By
tomorrow evening, you'll hate me."


Sansa breathed in and out.
"What do you have to do?" she asked softly.
"Why, collect taxes," Guy rumbled. "You knew I'd have to do this."
"Yes," Sansa replied, nodding. "And...?"
Guy uttered a snarl.
Then, he spat, "There are bound to be... incidents. Taxes are the opposite of a
reason for frolicking. And then, I'll have to inflict punishment."


Sansa thought of her experiences from the past - her experiences with men who
had to carry out nasty jobs, or who had had to punish others.
She said, "I can still remember my Lord Father had to cope with difficult
duties as well. Shortly before we left Winterfell, he took my little brother
Bran out for an execution. Bran was supposed to learn about such things.
Responsibility. Justice. I know taking someone's life weighed father down, and
yet, he sometimes had to do it. It was a duty, and he always took duties very
seriously. And, you know... having to do such things didn't make him a bad man.
The point is whether it has got something to do with justice or not."


Guy squeezed his eyes shut, and his Adam's apple moved. Sansa got out of bed
and grasped his hand. Her husband looked at her then and blinked.
"You're so different from other people I've known, wife," he said.
A sad little smile crept onto Sansa's lips. She wished she'd have had a chance
to get to know her husband in happier conditions.
"Only under better circumstances, we'd never have married,"she thought.
So Sansa cocked her head and replied, "You're also different from people I've
known."
Guy snorted and looked to the side.
"Don't turn me into a saint."
"If you don't turn me into one either. We all make mistakes. Just promise me
you'll try not to inflict pain for pain's sake."


Guy's jaws worked again.
"How could I promise such a thing after the explicit orders the sheriff has
given me?"
Sansa's heart felt heavy when she heard the words.
"He wants you as a scapegoat, doesn't he?"
Guy closed his eyes and nodded.
Sansa sighed and cupped his cheek.
"I'm sure you'll be able to command respect. Make a mummery of being evil, for
the sake of pretenses. But only punish those people who have done something
wrong, and don't do anything worse than what the law demands. And if there's a
situation where you think you can't do the right thing without falling from
grace - allow Robin Hood to win and to save the culprit. I know you despise the
outlaw, but this conflict is too complicated for simple pride."


Guy pressed the front of his head against hers and combed with his fingers
through her hair. Sansa realised he wanted to say something, but couldn't.
She rose onto her toes then and softly kissed her husband on the mouth. He
tasted sweet, and Sansa's heart started to palpitate. She realised she was
starting to develop feelings for Ser Guy of Gisborne.


Her husband gazed at her when the kiss ended. There was turmoil in his eyes.
He asked, "May I kiss you some more tonight?"
And Sansa answered, blushing, "Kiss me. Hold me. And... I need more. All of
you."
Guy's breathing was laboured when he answered, "So do I. Sansa. So do I."
 
***** Devotion *****
How could someone like Sansa even exist? Guy didn't understand. He so didn't.
Today, she had already given herself to him, had saved his life - and now, she
seemed to be intent on saving his soul. But why? And how?
Sansa was young, a woman, sensitive, and she looked fragile. Under different
circumstances, Guy would have snorted at someone like her. He'd have called her
an overbred, pampered, weak girl. Only Sansa was far from being this way.
There was an intelligence to her, a maturity that probably came from having
witnessed too much drama at a young age. And her gentleness... it wasn't her
weakness. It was her strength.
The gods knew Guy didn't care about the people in Nottinghamshire and whether
they suffered or not - they hadn't shown him any compassion either when he had
been young and weak. However, what Guy DID care about was Sansa's opinion of
him. Never before had he wanted to be a better man for someone else's sake.
He'd only ever wanted to bring down criminals for the sake of his own career.
For his own pride and ambition.
Yet, there she suddenly came along, Sansa Stark, was forced to become Sansa of
Gisborne against her will, and she simply accepted her fate without giving up
or becoming bitter, without even complaining once... Instead, she was open and
curious about him, wanted to get to know him, wanted to see what was below his
surface and simply took sides with him as if it were the most natural thing.


Guy leaned down and kissed Sansa back. It was pure bliss. He was feeling things
he had never felt before. There was something akin to... to... Was this joy?
Guy didn't know a thing about joy, so he had a hard time to identify the
feeling.
He allowed his lips to linger on hers, and she answered his kiss eagerly.
Fuck!
Gods!
Guy wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. She leaned against him,
warm and sweet. Without even thinking about it, Guy allowed the tip of his
tongue to flick against her lips.
He sensed a momentary confusion on her part, so he murmured, "Let me taste
you."
Another little flick of his tongue, and a third one, and then, Sansa understood
and parted her lips a fraction. When Guy's tongue touched hers for the first
time, she gasped.


Guy withdrew and looked at his wife. Her eyes were so big and blue and glazed
and confused he knew he was lost. Slowly, he stooped over her again and resumed
kissing her. His tongue slipped into her mouth again and elicited little noises
from her. And then, she started to grasp the concept. When her own shy tongue
tipped against his for the first time, Guy uttered a groan and nearly came into
his trews like a green boy.


He guided Sansa to the bed and placed her on the mattress. It was good that she
had already prepared for the night and was only wearing a thin shift. Of
course, it was still too much, but it was a good starting point.


What was even better was when her feverish hands moved through his hair, thus
showing him he wasn't the only one in need. He took hold of her fingers and
guided them under his tunic. To his utter delight, Sansa graced him with shy,
but still curious touches. Her hands traced his torso, slowly, mapped his body,
and the fact that embarrassment caused her to flush a deep pink only served to
make the experience all the sweeter.


Guy then took her right hand and guided it to the hard bulge between his legs.
Sansa gasped when she felt how aroused he was.
"Do you see what you're doing to me, wife?" he groaned into her ear in a low
voice.
"Sweet Mother!" Sansa whispered. Then she asked, "And you like my touch there?
It's not... improper?"
"Nothing could make me happier!" Guy emphasised.


What happened next went beyond anything he'd ever anticipated: Sansa started to
nestle on the laces of his trews.
Her voice was part nervous, part resolved when she whispered, "Then show me how
to make you happy!"
With a trembling hand, Guy took Sansa's fingers and wrapped them around his now
protruding shaft. He moaned loudly when he felt her inquisitive touch. Again,
Sansa was both hesitant and curious. After a moment, her nimble fingers started
to explore his length and the texture of his skin.


Guy moaned again and again, but also urged his wife on. Truth be told, he was
having a hard time not to come into Sansa's hand, and her gentle fumbling was
nothing short of torture. When whitish liquid started to ooze out of his cock's
opening, Guy knew this kind of exploration had to end. He also knew he wanted
his wife to be as needy and desperate as himself.


So he shoved Sansa's hand away and answered, "Now, it's my turn to torture
you."
Sansa looked up at him.
"Torture?"
Oh my, she was still so clueless.
Guy smirked.
"I want you to be sopping wet with arousal and calling out my name in extasy,
that's what I want."


Sansa squealed and tried to hide her face against his shoulder, but Guy was
having none of that. He hovered above her and pulled down the neckline of her
shift. It opened at the laces and revealed her little teats. Her nipples were
hard, so he started to caress her with his hands and mouth there.
Sansa gasped and instinctively arched her back. Guy savoured her enthusiastic
reaction and couldn't help it: he just needed to be inside of his wife.


Fortunately, Sansa was all too willing to welcome him in and even begged Guy
for mroe, though lacking experience, she couldn't phrase in detail what she
actually wanted. Quickly, Guy brought himself into position and slid into her.
They both groaned, Sansa wrapped her legs around him on instict; and even after
the first few hungry thrusts Guy knew he wouldn't last long enough.
He pulled out just in time when he exploded. As soon as his senses were coming
back, he noticed Sansa was still in utter disarray and desperate to have her
own peak.
So what should he do? Guy would have never expected to get such a willing wife,
nor had he learned how to pleasure a woman without his cock playing the central
role.
Well, he had heard of some measures that would involve his mouth, but he had
never had any interest or motivation in trying out such a thing.


"Guy, please...," Sansa begged him, crying, and he assumed he should give it a
try.
Still, he was dubious about it all. It helped a lot that his wife smelled good.
When he parted her legs and moved further down with his head, Sansa asked,
"Guy, what are you doing? This is outr- AAAAAHHHH!"
His first kiss was a hesitant shot in the dark, so to speak, but Sansa's
reaction was a reward in itself. Tentatively, he continued his task and probed
his wife in different ways. Guy was still not quite sure what to think of it
all.
He changed his opinion in favour of this activity when he realised just how
intense the experience was for his wife. She began to tremble under him, and
she whimpered and squealed and moaned. Guy took his time and kissed and licked
and suckled at her flesh, changing his method every so often to find out what
she liked best and where. The fact that these changes seemed to be a means to
draw out the experience for her was something Guy wouldn't have expected to
like - but he did relish his wife's increasing extasy.


When Sansa finally cried out, she started to sob so wildly that Guy became
worried. Had he overdone it? He knew so little about women and female lust. He
had only had the odd experiences with a servant or a kitchen wench or a
washerwoman, but those tumbles had been quick, to the point, and had lacked all
possible refinement.


Only when Sansa threw her arms around him and pressed her tear-stained cheek
into the crook of his neck did Guy know that he had done something right by his
wife. He held her in his arms and thought what he had never considered before:
that a stable relationship, a loving relationship, a nest and a family might be
more important than politics or money, status or power.
He didn't say these things aloud as they were so new and shocking to him; and
Sansa was already dozing off besides. But Guy did kiss her brow and vowed to
himself that he'd try not to fuck up their marriage - though the gods knew he
understood better how to fight a warrior with a sword than how to maintain a
relationship.
 
***** New surroundings, new people, and foul play *****
Chapter Summary
     Referring to something from the BBC show here and tweaking it
     according to the necessities of the mash-up context.
When Sansa opened her eyes the next morning, Guy was already fully dressed in
his usual black leather attire, and the dark look on his face instantly told
her he was back to a sombre mood.
"Sansa, you'll stay here for the day. We're expecting Hood to be lurking in
Locksley, so you'll have another day or two in Nottingham. Make yourself
comfortable while I'm gone and get to know the place," Guy told her in a cool
voice.


Sansa could only look at her husband with big eyes, because he was so different
from the sensitive, caring man he had been at night. Now, he was detached.
Aloof. Unfeeling.


Sansa remembered the invisible armour she had used to wear in King's Landing
and identified Guy's behaviour as some similar sort of protection.
"He's convinced the day will turn foul. That he'll do something wrong and
disappoint me,"Sansa thought. "And because of his conviction, it'll likely turn
into a self-fulfilling prophesy."
She didn't say it aloud, however, because Sansa realised Guy had already sealed
himself off to an extent where her words couldn't reach him anymore.


So she simply nodded.
"It will be good to get to know Nottingham and its people, Guy."
Her husband gazed at her for a moment, then nodded curtly, turned around and
left.


Sansa let out a shaky breath.
"A few hours in the sheriff's presence, and he's already manipulated Guy in
such a horrible way!" she thought.
But then, she balled her hands into fists.
"I won't allow that. I won't let this evil man win. I've already lost my family
- I will not lose my husband as well. I won't!"


Sansa thought of Tywin Lannister for a moment and of how the seasoned family
patriarch was losing battle after battle against her brother Robb - and yet,
the old lion from Casterly Rock didn't give up.
"Losing a battle doesn't mean you'll lose the war," Sansa mused.
At once, she was worried about her brother and felt as if someone had walked
over her grave - but at the same time, she took strength from this realisation:
she accepted that this day was probably a lost one with respect to turning Guy
into a better man, but there would be other days.


There was also something else Sansa pondered.
"The sheriff will use foul tricks to use Guy for his own purposes. But in
contrast to me, he can't offer Guy loving support, and he can't offer him the
warmth of the marriage bed."


Sansa blushed when she first thought of what she and her husband had already
shared, when she remembered next how Cersei had used her sensuality to
manipulate the men around her..., and when she thought of how Renly and Ser
Loras...
... oh well, hopefully Vaisey of Nottingham wouldn't be like that around his
new deputy sheriff.


"I'll try to help Guy to stay strong, no matter what,"Sansa resolved. And she
thought that she'd learned a few things the hard way in King's Landing, and
that this knowledge might help her now.
So she felt a whiff of defiance when she donned her dress and left the chamber
to break her fast.


Nottingham Castle was a massive grey building; it reminded Sansa to some extent
of Winterfell. When she crossed the courtyard to reach the sept, she came
across a lone, dark-haired, elegantly-clad young woman, who had just arrived on
a beautiful chestnut-coloured horse.
The woman somehow reminded Sansa of her tomboyish little sister Arya. The lady
was patting the animal's neck, then turned around and faced Sansa.


Sansa was surprised to see a young - obviously confident and fit - woman all on
her own, and she resolved to be cautious, just in case; but that didn't stop
her from smiling.
"Good morning," she said. "My name is Sansa of Gisborne. I'm new here at
Nottingham."
The other woman inclined her head in a polite, but equally guarded way.
"Good morning, Lady Gisborne, and welcome to Nottingham. My name is Marian of
Knighton. I'm the daughter of the retired Sheriff of Nottingham, Edward of
Knighton."


Now that explained a lot to Sansa. No wonder this woman appeared to know this
area inside out.
"I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Marian. I'm the wife of the new
deputy sheriff, Ser Guy of Gisborne. I was just on my way to the sept for
morning mass - but perhaps we could break our fast together now? I'm glad to
get to know someone here. Or have you already eaten?"


Sansa noticed the other woman tense at her words.
Lady Marian hesitated, then said, "I've already broken my fast at home... but I
guess I could do with a little snack after the ride. Just let me take care of
the horse."
Considering the dubious nature of the recent sheriff, Sansa wasn't surprised
the daughter of the former one was careful around her. Sansa felt the same way
about Lady Marian. After what she'd experienced in the Red Keep she didn't
trust other people so easily anymore.


Together, the two women made for the great hall.
"When did you arrive, Lady Gisborne?" Lady Marian wanted to know.
"Only yesterday after nightfall," Sansa informed her readily since this was no
secret.
"I see," Lady Marian answered. "And where's your husband? Will he be joining us
for breakfast? I'd like to get to know him, too."
Sansa smiled sadly.
"He's already left for an errand or two, but I don't know any details. He was
so busy this morning and left early. He'll be gone all day, from what I've
understood."
"Hmmm...," Lady Marian uttered. Somehow, she sounded not quite content.
Probably she was a nosy one and would have liked to know more. But then, the
woman showed her an open smile and said, "So you're alone here all day? In a
new place? Why, this won't do! Let me show you around after breakfast. There's
a lot to see."


Even while Sansa remained on her guard to some extent, the thought of spending
her time with someone who was willing to introduce her to the people here did
brighten up her mood.


Together, they arrived at the great hall, and Sansa thought it spoke volumes
when she saw Lady Marian move to a table in a far corner as soon as she noticed
the Sheriff of Nottingham on the dais. The man was busy reading some scrolls
and didn't notice them, fortunately.
Still, Sansa shook her head and murmured, "It would be improper not to greet
the sheriff."


Lady Marian stiffened and pressed her lips together. After a moment, however,
she nodded.
"I'm here to talk to the sheriff anyway."
"Let's go then," Sansa said.


When they reached the dais, Vaisey of Nottingham looked up and smiled
radiantly.
"What an improvement of the morning! Lady Gisborne - and you've brought along a
visitor! Lady Marian! Do take a seat and have something to eat and to drink."
Both women curtsied, and Sansa noticed how stiff Lady Marian's movements were
and how serious her face.


When they sat down, Sansa realised that the sheriff was in a good mood, and she
had a feeling that this man was like a cat licking itself after having pounced
on a particularly delicious mouse. He returned to studying his scroll.
A platter with food appeared in front of Sansa, but her appetite was dimmed
now. She took a morsel of cheese and nibbled on it.


"Lady Gisborne, I've just got this most interesting piece of information from
the capital," the sheriff suddenly spoke up.
Sansa felt a shiver run down her spine.
"I see," she replied in a polite voice and noticed how the sheriff was eyeing
her.
"Yes, indeed, most interesting," the elderly man emphasised. "From a man called
Varys. You know him, don't you?"
Sansa started to feel queasy.
"Our paths have met briefly once or twice."
The sheriff chuckled.
Then, he went on, "Looks like this Varys knows more about you than you do about
him. Or about your husband."


Sansa blinked.
"What do you mean?"
Vaisey of Nottingham smirked.
"Oh, this Varys - he's telling me that your husband has been in King's Landing
before, and more than once. For example, he got orders to bring down some
criminals in the Reach before late King Robert set out for Winterfell. During
this time, he had an affair with a chambermaid. An affair that had certain
consequences. Looks like Ser Guy has got a bastard in the capital. And tried to
get rid of it by handing it over to an orphanage without telling the mother.
Thanks to Varys, the mother and the little boy have been reunited. Oh, and your
Ser Guy had another passionate encounter with someone else right before his
last audience with King Joffrey. He was still warm from another woman's cunt
when he married you, so to speak."


Sansa paled, and the background sounds from the great hall were reduced to an
ugly buzz. For a moment, her mind was empty.
Then, she thought, "This man is really an expert at foul play. And in front of
another woman I barely know."
Aloud, Sansa managed to utter, "Ser Guy and I - we didn't know each other back
then. There's nothing I can say to that."
"I see, I see, most noble of you, Lady Gisborne," the sheriff taunted her.


Next, he turned to Lady Marian, who was flushed with embarrassment at having
been exposed to such private knowledge.
"Now, missy," Vaisey of Nottingham asked, "why are you here today? Don't tell
me again your poxy peasants can't pay their taxes."
Lady Marian bristled at the words.
"My lord, the people have already paid so much! They simply can't pay any more,
because they've got nothing left."
"Laa-di-daaa," the sheriff fended off her words. "These are times of war, so
they must pay their due. And now, ladies, I've got to see to some other duties.
Enjoy your breakfast and goodbye."


The man rose and was gone in an instant, his coat billowing behind him. Sansa
and Lady Marian both looked after him and didn't feel the wish to finish their
breakfast.
 
***** Pay day *****
When Guy arrived back at Nottingham Castle in the evening, his soul was a dark
pit. He had known the day would become horrible, and it had become even worse.
Meeting his wife was not a top priority on his wishlist, but he still walked to
their guest chamber to get it all over with.


He entered the room and saw her sit in a chair, combing her auburn hair. When
their eyes met, Guy's stomach dropped into his boots, because she looked like a
wounded deer.
"Has someone already told her about today's catastrophe? But... how can that
be? I've only just arrived," he wondered.


"What's happened, my lord?" Sansa asked in a small voice.
Guy closed his eyes and swallowed hard. So his wife was aware of him having
fucked it all up - she just didn't know the details. Somehow, a shaky sigh
escaped his throat, and then, he threw himself off the cliff, so to speak, and
started his report.


"We reached Clunn and started to collect the taxes the way we had planned it.
Most of the villagers were like scared sheep and begged us for mercy. Some
tried to hide their belongings from us. Secret savings and such. It hardly came
as a surprise."
"And then?" Sansa wanted to know.
Guy ran a hand through his hair and looked into the distance.
"You see, Peregryne had already recovered enough from our trip here, so he was
among the men who were working for me today. He was guarding the cart with the
money, because after yesterday's outlaw attack, I was trying to keep him from
the more exhausting tasks."


Sansa nodded.
"I noticed he wasn't here today, unlike the others from our group."
Guy went on, "Yes. He was with me. And then, I heard his call. He was grappling
with a man who was trying to steal money from the taxes we had collected. The
man was a bloated, red-faced, half-drunk peasant. And he was aggressive and
drew a long knife all of a sudden. He managed to hurt Peregryne, so I reacted
as quickly as I could. I rode to the cart, swung my sword, and cut off the
attacker's armed hand. The man started to scream, of course. And then, he
collapsed. He died in an instant. From the shock of the injury, you know? He
didn't even bleed to death. It all happened so quickly! After that, the people
were so frightened they didn't cause any further problems."


It took Guy a moment until he dared to look at his wife. She looked at him,
deep in thought.
"You tried to save Peregryne. One of your men. You were responsible for him.
And he was under attack. There was nothing wrong in doing what you did."
Guy's eyes widened.
"You think so?"
Sansa nodded seriously, and Guy's heart started to palpitate.
His wife didn't condemn him for what he'd done? Which miracle was this?
"How's Peregryne?" Sansa asked.
"He received a bad cut. The maester has already stitched him up and hopes the
wound won't start to fester. If everything goes well, Peregryne will just keep
a scar for bragging, that's all."


Sansa nodded again and looked a little less taut. Yet, Guy had a feeling that
something was wrong with her.
So he asked, "What about you? Did you have a good day?"
Sansa bit her lip for a moment.
Then, she said, "I got to know the former sheriff's daughter. Her name's Lady
Marian. She seems to be a decent person. She showed me around in Nottingham. A
nice city, all in all, but too much poverty. Too many beggars."


"I see," Guy commented, but he sensed that she hadn't reached the core of her
problem yet.
And sure enough, Sansa continued to speak.
"Guy, Sheriff Vaisey talked to me over breakfast. He had just received news
from the capital. News about you."
Guy went cold to the bone.
"What news about me?"
Sansa closed her eyes and leaned back her head.
"Guy, he told me you've tried to abandon a bastard son in King's Landing. That
you had another affair right before our wedding. And the sheriff said so right
in front of Lady Marian."


Guy felt the sudden need to vomit. Obviously, pay day had not just come for
Clunn's peasants.
 
***** Sincerity *****
Chapter Notes
     Ready for melodrama and big feelz?
Sansa thought Guy positively looked like a man awaiting the final blow. Well,
her father had looked different before the end, of course, because people had
made him believe he could be banned to the Wall, so the execution had been a
shock. Guy, however, looked like a man who knew he was doomed. That, in itself,
was painful to behold.


Sansa walked over to him and took his hand. Her husband blinked, utterly
puzzled.
"Tell me about it all," Sansa begged. "I'd like to understand the details. Your
point of view."
Guy was incredulous.
"What is there to understand? I'm a grown man with a grown man's appetite. I've
fucked a few women over the past years, and one of them got pregnant. Until the
very moment the king forced us to marry, I had no clue I'd ever end up as a
married man, so there was this other short interlude with a commoner at the Red
Keep. End of story."


Sansa cocked her head.
"That's not what's bothering me. You were a free man, and by the look of it,
you didn't force yourself onto those women."
Guy snorted.
"Certainly not. So what's your problem?"


Sansa tried to get a grip on her turbulent thoughts and feelings.
"My problem is that you took that baby away from its mother and tried to
deposit it at an orphanage. Without telling the mother. How could you do such a
thing? Guy - I could already be with your child. What should I think? Would you
do the same again? Avoid your fatherly duties?"


Guy looked at her, bewilderment in his huge eyes.
"I'd never make you suffer!" he exclaimed.
Sansa sighed sadly.
"That's what you're saying now. And perhaps you even mean it. But I don't know
what happened, so I can't be sure. I'm young, but I've already experienced too
many - and extremely painful - letdowns. How can I trust you when you've
abandoned your own son?"


Guy squeezed his eyes shut. His breathing was laboured.
"There's no hope for us then," he whispered, beaten.
Suddenly, Sansa felt a whiff of anger.
"How shall I be able to tell whether there's hope for us or not? Tell me what
happened. What your motivations were. Your feelings. What led you into doing
what you did. I want to understand."


Guy opened his eyes again, and there was a maelstrom in them.
"I...," he stammered and seemed to be at a loss, "I don't know what to say. I'm
not used to explaining such things."
"Start with whatever you want then," Sansa said.


Her husband ran his hand through his dark hair.
"Give me a moment," he begged.
Sansa nodded.
It took Guy a full minute until he began.


"I... don't feel much around others. I can kill them without remorse. I don't
care about them. You're different somehow. I don't know what to make of it all.
Now..."
He paused, then started again.
"It was before the war. Late King Robert's Hand Jon Arryn had ordered me to
come to the Red Keep for a special task. During my short stay, I came across
this woman."
"What's her name?" Sansa asked.
Guy blinked as if he'd never considered a lover's name could be relevant.
"Annie. We met two or three times, and that was it. I left and carried out the
task I'd been given. I saw her again when I came back and Lord Tyrion tasked me
with fighting the Brotherhood Without Banners."


Sansa was surprised.
"You've met Tyrion before?"
Guy shook his head.
"Not really. I received written orders via a messenger. I was just about to
leave when Annie suddenly turned up with a newborn baby in her arms."
"How did you react?" Sansa asked curiously.
Guy shrugged.
"At first, I thought Annie wanted money... but she didn't. It turned out she
was clinging. That she'd developed some sort of romantic fancy."
"And you didn't feel the same for her?" Sansa wanted to know.
Her husband shook his head.
"I didn't understand in the least. I was... kind of horrified, frankly. The
most shocking thing was the baby. I wasn't pepared for its existence, and I
didn't want to be together with its mother - who, in contrast, wanted to be
together with me. Never before had a woman shown any interest in me as a
person. Other wenches had only wanted my cock for a bit of fun. So... I wanted
to be rid of the problem, rid of a woman who was romanticising me for whatever
reason. I didn't know what to do. Then, I took the baby and deposited it in
front of an orphanage in Flea Bottom."


Sansa closed her eyes for a moment.
"I take it that Annie's romantic feelings cooled down for you when she found
out."
"Indeed," Guy agreed.
"And the boy is back with his mother?"
"They left King's Landing together."
Sansa breathed in and out.
"Do you know where they are now?"
Guy shrugged again.
"Annie wanted to work for another lord, but I don't know whether they actually
made it there."


Sansa looked at Guy then.
"You didn't plan to have that child, and you weren't prepared for it. But you
did lie down with that mother, and you knew that intimacies could lead to a
baby. So this boy is your responsibility. You've failed him once. You shouldn't
do it again. Make inquiries and find out about the mother's whereabouts. Make
sure the boy at least gets a decent education."


Guy stared back at Sansa.
"You mean...? But... why would you want to make sure...?"
His voice faltered.


Sansa understood that Guy didn't have any knowledge about even the most simple
forms of social life and moral standards. He was clueless and disoriented, had
never known any positive or warm feelings, and was only starting to see a few
things now -although he was considerably older than Sansa. She asked herself
what had gone so horribly wrong to leave him without an inner compass
whatsoever.


Sansa thought of Jon Snow and said, "I've got a half brother, do you know that?
He's my father's bastard son. My father took him to Winterfell and raised him
alongside with me and my siblings. It's important to take care of one's
children, even if they've been born on the wrong side of the bed. Or probably
especially then. My half brother Jon and I... we were never close, but now, I'm
starting to wonder how things must have been more difficult for him, because he
was a bastard. I think I didn't treat him fairly, back home. Mother despised
him, so I kept my distance as well."


Guy approached her and cupped her cheek gingerly.
"Where is he now? With your other brother in the Riverlands?"
Sansa looked up at her husband.
"No. He's at the Wall. He wanted to become a black brother, because it doesn't
matter there if you're a bastard."
"Do you want to write him a letter?" Guy asked.
Sansa's eyes widened.
"You'd allow that?" she breathed.
Her husband rubbed his nose.
"I guess I would. The Wall is neutral, so nobody can call it treason if you
write your bastard brother a letter."


Tears welled up in Sansa's eyes. On instinct, she wrapped her arms around her
husband.
"Thank you," she croaked. "Thank you so very, very much."
"Sssht," Guy murmured.
Sansa looked up at him and into his blue eyes.
"You may not be a good man, Guy of Gisborne, but you're not a lost cause.
There's hope for you. And maybe, there's hope for us."


Moments later, Guy was on his knees in front of her, shoulders heaving, and he
was pressing his face against her torso. Sansa combed with her fingers through
his dark hair, and to her own surprise, she suddenly dared to dream of a
happier future together.
 
***** Together *****
That night, Guy learned a lot. He had never considered kissing every square
inch of a lover's body - until that was the exact thing that Sansa lavished on
him. At that point, Guy understood just how little he knew about gentleness and
devotion and warm feelings. His body was tingling all over, and it was so much
more than mere lust that drove him. Though lust did certainly come into the
mix: when his wife's lips wandered along his length and explored him, Guy
couldn't hold back and came then and there, like a green boy. But this was far
from being all.
Guy needed to be together with Sansa. To be as close to her as possible. Never
before had he felt inclined to strive for this kind of intimacy. He had known
as much about it as a blind man would know about colours. And now, it was Sansa
who was teaching him about such things although she was noticeably younger than
him.
 
Not every detail was something he could cope with right away. Her trying to
establish a new form of intimacy between them also comprised communication...
which wasn't exactly Guy's forte. She wanted to get to know him better, that
much was clear, but she asked him weird questions that didn't make sense, or to
which he knew no answers, because he had never thought about them, because they
had never been relevant for his life.
"What's your favourite colour, Guy?"
"If you were king, Guy, what would be the first thing you'd change?"
"What's your earliest memory?"
"Which place in Westeros would you like to visit one day?"
"What's the funniest anecdote you remember from your travels?"
"Which dreams did you have when you were a child?"
"Do you like 'Florian and Jonquil', Guy?"
"What's your favourite book?"
More often than not, Guy would shrug or say he didn't know or didn't remember.
At the same time, he realised just how different the two of them had to be if
those were topics Sansa deemed important. This, in its turn, made him insecure
and gloomy.
 
At some point, Sansa noticed his increasingly reserved reactions and said,
"Now, we've been talking about you all the time. What do you want to know about
me?"
Guy pondered his options for a while.
Then, he asked, "Is it nice to be high-born?"
Now, it was her turn to consider his question.
After a moment, she answered, "I had a wonderful childhood. My life was very
sheltered. I had a big, loving family. Loving parents. Even the servants were
fond of us children, and we of them. There was mutual respect. I also had a
wonderful direwolf for a while. Her name was Lady."
Her voice faltered for a moment.
Next, she continued, "I never had to worry about money or clothes or food. I
lived in a big castle with warm springs nearby. Life was peaceful. Our greatest
worries were summer snows and falling ill. I didn't know how singularly good my
life was until I left Winterfell. I was so happy to leave my home, because I
thought it to be boring. I wanted to see the splendour of the capital. I wanted
to become queen. How naive I was back then. How ignorant of how dangerous life
can be."
 
Guy closed his eyes for a moment.
"I must confess I envy your childhood. Mine wasn't as luxurious, and when
people looked at me here in Nottinghamshire, they considered me a foreigner.
Oh, I did get the chance to learn my letters as a boy, and I was given the
chance to become a squire and later a knight, but my family wasn't as loving as
yours. Not even the peasants truly accepted me, because I wasn't from the area.
They heard my mother's Pentoshi accent, and that was it. My father was at war
for many years, leaving us to our own devices. When he came back, it turned out
he had caught Greyscales, and society declared him a dead man and cast him out.
My mother declared herself a widow even when father was still alive and had an
affair with a local nobleman. They died in a fire, leaving me alone. Other
squires my age were condescending towards me when they found out about my
situation. Arrogant. Until they learned it the hard way I was better with my
sword than them, better with my fists and my daggers, better with bow and
arrow, better at riding... even better with my brain."
 
Sansa looked him in the eyes then, and her expression was so warm Guy sensed a
sudden need to weep when she cupped his face.
"I want to build a life with you, Guy," she whispered. "And while I cannot give
you the riches and the status that would have come along with my lineage and
ancestry under different circumstances, I want to give you an impression of the
happiness I felt as a child. I told you it had to do a lot with mutual fondness
and respect."
Guy's throat was dry when he answered.
"I'd have never thought I might come to this conclusion - but I'd like that to
happen. Only you'll have to lead me on the way."
Sansa smiled at him.
"I'll try to do my very best if you try to do the same."
Guy smiled at his wife then, too, and they kissed and cried a little, and then,
he bedded Sansa as if he wanted to fuck whatever shards of a blackened soul
still existed in him into his wife.
***** Daytime activities *****
Guy left Sansa early, like he had done on the previous day - only this time, he
was in a better mood, Sansa noticed.
Before he left, he said, "I'll be here at the castle today. I need to get
acquainted with the local training routine as well as the structure of the
guards. I also need some training myself. And I'll check on the armoury and the
stables."
"Will you go visit the injured men, too?"
Guy nodded and donned his shirt as well as his trews and his sword belt.
"That too, though not for compassionate reasons. I need to know when they can
come back to work."


Sansa sighed inwardly. She knew that while her husband was thawing up under her
tutelage he still had to go a long way. And the Sheriff of Nottingham would
certainly not stand around idly and watch Guy turn into a better man.
"I need to get to know the sheriff better myself, disgusting as that may
be,"Sansa thought. "My biggest problem always was that I didn't know the true
nature of the Lannisters before it was too late."
She also thought of how the Hound had advised her to give Joffrey what he
wanted after her father's beheading. As horrible as it had been, she had heeded
the scarred man's words, had played her role, and had been able to survive so
far.
"Just what does the Sheriff of Nottingham want? And how can I possibly
influence him into a more acceptable reaction - if that's possible at all?" she
asked herself.
From what she had found out so far, her task would be a difficult and dangerous
one. However, she had had the best - or rather worst - training in the capital.
"For now, I'll do what I can do best: appear harmless, play dumb, and watch and
learn."


Once she had dressed, Sansa moved on to the great hall to break her fast. She
told herself she needed to eat to keep her strength. Naturally, this was easier
said than done when she saw the sheriff on the dais, but she still walked over
to him and curtsied.
"Morning, missy," the man said and inspected her closely. "How are we doing
today?"
Sansa made sure her mental mask was in place and answered, "Decently enough,
thank you for asking. I'm planning to attend mass shortly."
It was a shot in the dark, but when she saw the elderly man shudder, she knew
that religion wasn't his topic.


Sansa received her platter of food and started to eat. The sheriff eyed her
again.
"Splendid appetite today, hmmm? Did your husband plough you last night?"
Sansa choked on a swig of milk, and the sheriff grinned. She also couldn't help
blushing.
When she'd regained her senses, she answered, "My husband is a grown man with a
grown man's needs. So we... make do at times."
Of course, Sansa had no intentions of revealing the budding feelings between
her and Guy. Better let the sheriff believe their relationship was a lukewarm
affair. She resolved to tell Guy he should behave the same way, but since he
was a remote man she didn't fear he might give them away any time soon.


Lord Vaisey continued to smirk. He also tried to poke her some more.
"Looks like your friend Marian isn't here today, missy."
Sansa blinked and furrowed her brow.
"I only got to know Lady Marian yesterday, and she only gave me a quick tour of
the area. How could she be my friend if I hardly know her?"
The sheriff snorted.
"Laa-di-daaa, young women bond quickly over a hairband, from what I know."
Sansa shrugged.
"Lady Marian seemed to have... strong social issues. I don't think she'll
approve of my husband... and of me neither, as a consequence."
Lord Vaisey's eyes glittered with interest.
"Ah, yes, her stupid ideas about the filthy rabble."
Sansa realised he was trying to provoke her into a political statement. So she
made sure to shrug off his comment.
"There's little I can say to that, my lord. I've just arrived, and I've never
learned anything about such issues to begin with."


Fortunately, the sheriff seemed to lose interest in her after her answer and
returned to reading the scrolls he had brought along from his solar.
Sansa finished her platter, and as soon as Lord Vaisey left the dais, she was
free to wander the castle at her own will. She did so and came across the
platform with the gallows. The place gave her the shivers, even if there were
no recent victims to be seen.


When she passed the training yard, she noticed her husband hacking at some
guards. A handful of guards who were off duty were also watching with rapt
attention. Sansa had never seen her husband fight before and could only marvel
at the speed and capability with which Guy swung his sword. Again and again, he
turned into a black blur and disarmed his training partners more quickly than
they could have said "sheriff". Sansa even deemed Guy competent enough for a
duel with Ser Jaime Lannister and felt surprisingly proud of being married to
such an able man.
At some point, Guy noticed her and nodded curtly into her direction. He
remained serious, though, which was good, given how Sansa didn't want to make a
display of any romantic vibes between them. So she granted him no more than a
friendly face and a similarly curt nod before moving on.


After this episode, Sansa visited the injured men-at-arms. Fortunately, they
were all recovering.
Later, Sansa went to the sept. Since she wanted to pray for her father, she
walked over to the statue of the Stranger. Nobody else was there, and there was
just one burning candle. It suited Sansa well, and she knelt down.


After a while, she noticed a man kneel down a little behind her. Someone else
who wanted to pray, apparently.
But then, the man addressed her in a low voice.
"So here we are again, Lady Gisborne."


Sansa's heart beat faster. Robin Hood! And so close!
She turned her face and looked at the man. Her nose told her he was a little
smelly - which was nothing unexpected if you considered that he and his men had
to live in the woods.
Hood looked at her intently. Sansa didn't notice any aggression on his part.
Rather... curiosity. However, she wasn't so stupid as to believe herself to be
safe.
"What do you want from me?" Sansa asked.
"Just paying a visit," Robin Hood answered in a friendly, even charming tone.
"I've got no use for honeyed lies," Sansa spoke. "I've had enough of those in
the past."
Robin Hood arched his eyebrows.
"Is that so? All right. To tell the truth: I'm here on another errand and just
happened to notice you, so I decided to get a second impression. Sadly, I
didn't have the opportunity to get one at Locksley yesterday."


Sansa guessed that spying and lurking in dark corners was what the Merry Men
were doing most of the time so as to prepare their... projects.
In response to what Hood had said, she murmured, "Yes, as you can see I'm still
here at Nottingham."
The outlaw cocked his head.
"And have you noticed already which dark role your husband is playing in
stealing from the poor?"
Sansa looked at the man.
"Hood, I won't side with you. My father was a good man who cared about his
subjects - and yet, he died a traitor's death. I'm not intend on ending the way
he did."


The outlaw breathed in and out.
"One day, tyranny will come to an end, my lady. The Targaryens will come back,
and then, they'll make the oppressors pay. Don't you want to help justice on
its way? The Stark name used to be an honourable one."
Sansa smiled sadly.
"I've told you before: I'm Lady Gisborne now. And your way isn't mine."
Robin Hood hung his head for a moment.
"A pity," he murmured. "Good day to you then. Lady GISBORNE."
With those words, he disappeared in the shadows.


Sansa knew that even if she alarmed the guards outside, Robin Hood would escape
through one rabbit hole or another. He was clever in these respects, she had to
give him that. But the qualities he possessed when it came to cunning and
daring he lacked with regard to the Game of Thrones. His self-righteous pride
had made him an outlaw where other - less obvious - means might have achieved
more.
Sansa's sad smile lingered.
"No," she repeated in a whisper, "your way isn't mine. Which doesn't mean our
political opinions aren't somewhat similar. Or that our ways won't cross time
and again. We might even benefit from one another occasionally. But there can
be no hard-and-fast alliance, Hood, can't you see that? It'll be better this
way for all of us."
 
***** Strategies *****
When Guy returned to his chamber in the evening, he was exhausted - both
physically and emotionally. The Sheriff of Nottingham had been the greatest
dungfly on this day. The man had come over to the barracks in the afternoon and
had awaited a report. Guy had told him of his plans on how to improve the
status of their - rather deplorable - troops, but Lord Vaisey had cut him
short.
"Just make the men more effective, I don't care how. Cut their balls off if
need be. I've heard of an army of castrates, over in Essos. Good standards if
you ask me. Speaking of fuckability and the lack thereof - your Stark girl is
duller than even her father was rumoured to be. Since she doesn't seem to have
any other use, she must be a harlot between the sheets, I guess. Wondering if
that's her fertile Tully heritage."
Guy had been infinitely close to not just murdering the sheriff, but to
actually butchering him. In retrospect, it was a mystery to Guy how he had
managed to keep himself under control.


So he was close to imploding when he finally came home. Sansa was already
awaiting him.
As soon as she asked him how he was feeling, he flopped down on their bed face
first, and somehow, a torrent of words emerged from his throat. He told her
every shitty little detail that had bugged him that day, from the rusty swords
in the armoury to how his horse had been lame.
He didn't hide the episode with the sheriff from her either.


To his endless surprise, Sansa was thrilled when she heard of Lord Vaisey's
behaviour. Blinking, he looked up at her when she clapped her hands together in
what positively looked like delight.
"Oh, that's good!" she exclaimed. "That's exactly the impression I wanted to
leave. Dumb, boring and harmless. Guess how I survived the court in King's
Landing."


Guy couldn't believe his ears.
"You try to appear stupid and incapable on purpose?"
It was the very opposite of everything Guy had ever tried to portray. To his
absolute bewilderment, Sansa nodded.
"Women are disadvantaged in society. So what can we do to reach our aims? Some
women become whores and lead mean away with their passions. Or you make sure
men underestimate you so can safely carry out deeds the men would never expect
you to be capable of."
Guy goggled at his wife.
"And what have you achieved so far?"
Sansa blushed.
"I survived at Court when I was all on my own and everyone was only waiting for
me, a girl, to make a mistake so they could shorten merf by a head."


"Gods," Guy whispered.
Of course, he had known Sansa's situation must have been difficult, but the
confirmation would have swept him off his feet, had he not already been lying
on the bed.
He breathed, "You must be an expert for many things then. Things that must be
significant, even if men will tend to laugh about them."
Sansa shrugged and blushed.


Guy went on, "Any tips from a survivor on how to deal with the sherriff?"
Sansa's blush deepened.
"You really want to know my opinion?"
Guy nodded.
His wife bethought himself.
"The man takes delight in shaming and hurting others. He's ambitious and
ruthless. He's also intelligent, but his inner arrogance may keep him from
noticing some details. Lord Vaisey thinks he's better than others. That he's a
genius. It would be good for you if you could appear to be a competent worker
who doesn't have it in him to be a leader. Someone who doesn't strive to go
beyond what he's supposedly destined for. Someone who almost looks emotionally
dependent on the superiority of his boss."


Guy grimaced.
"I think I must throw up. Wife, I can't even fathom what you must have
experienced to cook up such a concept. This sounds so humiliating."
Sansa cupped his cheek then and looked him deep in the eyes. But she wasn't
only gazing at him, she was also clearly seeing things from her memories.
"Let's say public humiliation isn't something new to me."
Guy grabbed her then and hugged her close.


Suddenly, Sansa went on.
"I met Robin Hood today."
Guy tensed.
"You did WHAT!? And you're only telling me now!?"


Sansa placed a finger on his lips.
"Shhht! He didn't threaten me or anything. It was more or less an accidental
meeting, and he was gone again before I could alert anyone. Had I made it
public he was at the castle today it would only have left a smudge on your
reputation. On your competence."


Guy sat up, still upset.
"What did Hood want from you?" he wanted to know.
Sansa answered, "He wanted to win me over to his side."
Guy hissed.
"The stupid shitstain! I'll boil his entrails in oil!"
Sansa placed a hand onto his arm.
"Sshht! You will do no such thing. Unlike the sheriff, he's not really evil.
And you'll never know when he might come in handy as a... distractor of sorts.
And, you know, his exuberant pride and self-righteousness... because of that,
he's probably... Oh, I'm so sorry to say such a thing, but he's not the
brightest card in the deck, I fear."
Guy snorted.
"He's certainly not! Hood's a spoiled noble brat who's relishing to show off
his allegedly roguish charms and his abilities with bow and arrow. I guess the
women fall for him left, right, and centre."


Sansa giggled at him.
"Are you jealous?"
Guy tensed even more.
"Balderdash! Why would I be jealous of an outlaw?"
Sansa was still grinning.
"I don't know? Perhaps because of his roguish charms? And the women? Though I
would rather fall for you than for Hood. Not left and right, but on top of you.
You smell better, too, even after a day in the training yard."


On hearing these words, it only took Guy's blood a few moments to stream
southwards, and he heard a whooshing sound in his ears. Within the blink of an
eye, he was pinning Sansa onto the bed.
"What the fuck do you know about Hood's scent?"
Sansa chuckled.
"Not much. Just enough to know it will cause me to turn tail and run. Can I
please have a sniff of you instead?"
"Now that's more to my liking," Guy growled.
His wife blushed a rich crimson.
"Oh, and come to think of it, husband - can I also lick up and down your spine?
Please?"


Guy stared at Sansa then like a predator would at a piece of game.
"The sheriff was right - you ARE a harlot between the sheets. Is that another
one of your strategies?"
Sansa beamed at him.
"Just the one to seduce you."
Guy looked down at his wife.
"I can live with that," he replied. And then, he showed her he could indeed.
 
***** Dark wings, dark words *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning for canon-compliant character deaths.
The next morning, they both had to rise early. After all, they wanted to move
on to Locksley Manor.
Humming, Sansa donned one of her simple dresses, and Guy promised her she'd get
more and better ones in Locksley. Only a few months earlier, Sansa would have
been beside herself with joy at the mere prospect of a new dress. Now, her
reaction was milder. She would look forward to a dress, sure, but she didn't
want it to be too opulent. After all, Sansa didn't want to look too arrogant in
front of the poor peasants, and she had also come to appreciate simpler designs
she could put on without the help of a maid.
 
As it was, it didn't take the two of them long to be prepared for breaking
their fast, and they walked down to the great hall. The sheriff wasn't there
yet, which was all the better.
Sansa grabbed her platter and ate with a healthy appetite. She also watched her
husband, who was eating his own food, deep in thought. He was already planning
all the details of their short ride over to Nottingham Manor.
 
At some point, Lord Vaisey turned up, two scrolls under his arm. He was
whistling a merry tune, and his eyes were bright. Sansa felt her hair stand on
end when she heard the man was in such high spirits.
"Morning," he said amiably when he reached the table. "And isn't it a fine
morning, Gizzy? I've heard you're intending to relocate at Hood's old place
today."
"Indeed, my lord," Guy said in a cool voice.
The Sheriff of Nottingham nodded.
"Yes, yes. Just you go ahead. Frankly, it's the perfect day for moving."
"And what is so perfect about it?" Guy asked and furrowed his brow. "The
weather is pretty grey."
Lord Vaisey waved his hand.
"Pffft, the weather! As if that were important! No - why haven't you heard the
news yet? The Lannisters have won the war."
 
Guy blinked at that, and Sansa could only stare at the sheriff. She was
suddenly feeling horrible misgivings.
"What do you mean by saying the Lannisters have won the war?" she whispered.
Lord Vaisey coughed.
"Ah, yes, you're a Stark by birth, so I should probably utter some condolences,
but those would be lies, so I say we rather leave them be right away, hmmm? I
mean - your brother was our enemy, missy, so of course his demise is mighty
welcome."
"My brother's demise?" Sansa peeped.
Her mind felt syrupy all of a sudden.
The sheriff went on, "Oh yes, your... elder brother. The one that styled
himself as king. He attended your uncle's wedding at the Twins, together with
your mother. You must have heard of that stupid affair. Looks like Walder Frey
was still pissed off your brother had broken the original wedding arrangement.
So he had all the visitors slain during the wedding. Your brother, your sister-
in-law, your mother, the whole entourage. All right, your uncle is said to have
survived, being practically half a Frey by marriage now. Oh, and the Blackfish
might have escaped for the time being, but those are minor problems, really."
 
Sansa's hands started to shake.
And the sheriff still wasn't done.
"Just got the message this morning via raven. It also says the Freys sewed the
head of your brother's direwolf onto his master's human body and paraded him
around. Very creative, I must admit, but not really grand style, if you ask me.
I think treason should be carried out deftlier, wouldn't you agree? I'd have
preferred faceless assassins so nobody could have been blamed. But then again,
the Freys aren't known for their elegance."
That was the moment when Sansa's vision blurred, and she fainted.
 
Later, she woke up next to Guy and a maester. They were in the corridor in
front of the great hall.
When her memories set in, she imploded, and Sansa started to howl. She didn't
really notice what was going on around her anymore. Then, the maester forced
her to swallow a bitter herbal concoction.
Sansa's thoughts became fuzzy again.
She heard Guy say, "You'll sleep now, wife. And I'll take you to Locksley Manor
on a cart. You need to get out of here. I'm sorry."
Sansa heard him say the words, but her mind was already too clotted to process
them. Her head sank to the side and she fell asleep.
***** Mourning and visitors *****
All week long, Guy was so busy he barely got enough sleep. He relocated Sansa
at Locksley Manor and tried to take care of her in her subdued state. The
problem was that he had never learned how to comfort others, so he mostly let
her cry. Once, he kissed her brow, then the corner of her eyes, moved down her
cheek and aimed for her lips.
Sansa turned away from him then, and Guy apologised for having overstepped. The
incident showed him that intimacies wouldn't be welcome under these
circumstances. That detail was difficult for Guy to accept since he had only
just got to know his sweet wife along these lines, and the first flames of
passion still dominated him; but he did stifle his needs for her. He told
himself that she'd recover after a while and things would get back to normal.
 
What Guy actually wanted to do was to butcher Lord Vaisey - but when he uttered
as much in Sansa's presence, she told him the sheriff had been the messenger,
not the one responsible for what had happened to her family. While this was
probably true, Guy still thought that Sansa's heart was much bigger than his.
Since she had spoken up against vengeance on his part, however, he picked up
his work again. Loath as he was to it, he moved from village to village and
collected taxes. He barked a lot and threatened the people into doing what had
to be done. He had the peasants shoved, but tried his very best not to kill
anyone.
Despite his best intentions, however, there was a tragic accident: a careless
mother didn't control her little child, and the boy ran around, because he
wanted to "play Robin Hood" and to scare the guards' horses away. In the course
of his actions, he got under the hooves of one of his men's horses and died.
Guy vented his frustration, and loudly so. That way, he wanted to alleviate his
guard's bad conscience, for the man had done nothing wrong. Of course, the
villagers blamed Guy for the tragedy when actually Robin Hood had inspired the
boy to play false.
"For crying out loud!" Guy thought and glowered about himself.
That evening, he drank some wine, though usually he preferred to keep his wits
about himself.
 
With regard to Robin Hood, it came as a surprise to Guy when Sansa showed him a
letter the outlaw had written her. The message had appeared on her bed, and
apparently out of nowhere, which irked Guy more than he could say.
Hood had written,
"Dear Lady Gisborne,
while we didn't part on the best of terms last time, I want to express how
sorry my men and I feel for your losses. The treasonous event as well as the
light in which it was carried out show once again that Westeros is rotten to
the core. Those traitors have to be brought to justice.
I hope that we do think on the same level about these things.
Kind regards,
Robin of Locksley"
 
 
"Pffft," Guy made. "One raven calls the other one black. Those lines coming
from an outlawed traitor... why, that's rich."
Sansa sighed then and rubbed her puffy eyes.
"Granted, the man is a criminal, and I don't see him in a heroic light, unlike
so many others. Still, he behaved more decently than the sheriff and took the
risk upon himself to get caught while leaving the note for me."
Guy harrumphed again.
"That man lives on recklessness like others do on air."
Yet, he also had to agree to the fact that in this case, Hood had been less of
a shit than Lord Nottingham - for the simple reason that it was impossible to
be a bigger one.
 
After one week, there was an unexpected visitor, much to Guy's surprise. It was
a young, beautiful woman, a confident rider. Titillating, to a minor degree.
Guy was quite sure that had he not already been in Sansa's tangles, he'd have
looked at this visitor with a keener eye.
As it was, he just wanted to know who she was.
"Marian of Knighton," the woman introduced herself and looked at him as if he
were a lout. "I'd like to visit your wife and to console her if I can."
What little initial interest Guy had had in that woman cooled off even more
since she was obviously against him. He arched an eyebrow, but after weeks with
his wife, he was at least able to conjure up a minimum of politeness.
"Welcome at Locksley Manor, Lady Marian. I don't know if my wife will be
willing to receive you, but that's her choice to make, not mine. Just go ask
her. I'm off to work now."
Again, the woman shot him a disgusted look.
 
She was gone in the evening when Guy returned. He heard from Sansa that she had
indeed been willing to meet Lady Marian.
"It wasn't too stressful for you?" he asked his wife.
Sansa shook her head.
"If not for her ongoing political agitation, her presence would be entertaining
enough. Yet, I can't hold her attitudes against her. She's the former sheriff's
daughter after all, so naturally, she'd still feel invested in what's going on
in the area."
Guy shrugged.
 
He wanted to say something more when he heard hooves in the yard.
"Is Lady Marian coming back?" Sansa asked.
Guy looked out the window and saw two horses and two people in armour. He
furrowed his brow as he didn't expect any more visitors, especially not now
when the sun was setting.
"No. That's not her chestnut-coloured horse. These animals have got pretty
golden manes."
"Like my Goldbells?" Sansa asked.
"Mhm," Guy agreed. Then, his eyes widened. "You won't believe this, Sansa! One
of the two riders in armour is the biggest beast of a woman I've ever seen."
Sansa sped to his side and looked out. She blinked. Then, she looked up at him.
"I don't know this woman," she said. "But I do know the other rider, although
it's been a while, and he does look a tad... rugged. It's Ser Jaime Lannister.
Oh gods! And look! He's... he's lost a hand! His sword hand!"
***** Reasons *****
At once, Guy darted downstairs and welcomed the arriving couple. A pockmarked
stable boy was already leading the horses away.
"Ser Jaime. My lady. Good evening and welcome at Locksley Manor."
The Kingslayer turned towards him with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes
and inclined his head. The man looked indeed as if he had been through a lot of
late, given his hollow cheeks. The last Guy had heard of the man, he'd been
Robb Stark's prisoner.
"Ser Guy of Gisborne, I presume? And this here is Lady Brienne of Tarth."
Guy indicated a curt bow. Gods, the woman was really a huge beast, but Guy
didn't really care as long as he wouldn't have to fight her. And from Tarth?
The heiress? Drat, another one with blood bluer than the sea.
 
"My wife, Lady Sansa, is upstairs. She had already retreated for the night, but
of course, she'll greet you in a moment."
"So Lady Sansa is here?" Ser Jaime asked. "Or rather... Lady Gisborne?"
Guy nodded.
"Lady Gisborne now, yes. Please come in. If I may say so - my wife and I are
very curious about what has brought you to our doorstep."
Lady Brienne exchanged a glance with Ser Jaime and spoke up.
"Of course, we'll tell you as soon as Lady S... Lady Gisborne arrives."
"Fair enough," Guy answered and beckoned them into the house.
 
A servant came running and served them Arbor gold. Not knowing what to make of
it all, Guy wanted to leave a good impression on the Lannister man.
Then, Sansa came downstairs. Her face was expressionless, like a mask. Guy
hadn't seen her so remote since the capital.
"Ser Jaime, welcome to our humble abode."
The Kingslayer's eyes turned darker, whatever that meant, and he inspected
Sansa from head to toe.
"Lady Gisborne. Good evening. This is Lady Brienne of Tarth. Let us express our
best wishes for your marriage as well as our condolences for your losses
first."
 
Behind his back, Guy balled a fist.
Sansa breathed in and out.
"Thank you, my lord. I hope that you'll understand that I don't want to dwell
on this... difficult matter."
Ser Jaime inclined his head.
"This is indeed a difficult topic, I can understand you there. Better than you
may think, actually. However, our visit here is linked to recent developments,
so we cannot leave this particular point aside."
Sansa closed her eyes for a moment and squared her shoulders.
After a moment, she said, "Do proceed then, Ser Jaime. Why are you and Lady
Brienne here?"
 
Jaime cleared his throat.
"I'm sure you're aware of the fact that I've been your brother's prisoner for
quite a while."
Sansa nodded.
So the Kingslayer went on, "And Lady Brienne entered your mother's service when
she left Prince Renly's camp."
Of course, Guy had heard some odd rumours about Prince Renly's death, but had
never been interested in the truth of it all. To be now near the woman who was
said to have had a hand in the prince's demise was... delicate, to say the
least.
 
Sansa's head snapped up, but for a different reason.
"You worked for my mother, Lady Brienne?"
"Yes, my lady," the tall woman answered in a proud voice. "She was kind enough
to allow me to enter her service."
Ser Jaime looked at Sansa and uttered a bitter chuckle.
"Your lady mother was also kind enough to give me my freedom back... though it
came at a price."
 
Sansa blinked.
"Your... hand?"
The Kingslayer looked at his stump.
"Oh no. Those were some of my father's mercenaries who had run wild on their
way to Harrenhal. Funny, isn't it? My father always wanted me as his perfect
son, and now, he's got the opposite of it: a cripple."
 
Guy didn't want to dwell on the man's self-pity, so he asked, "Then why are you
here?"
Ser Jaime looked at him.
"Back to Lady Catelyn. She demanded an oath from me. I had to swear I'd have to
save and to bring back her daughters. The latter part is quite impossible now
since Lady Catelyn is dead. But the question is whether you, my lady, need any
saving?"
The man's eyes wandered from Guy to Sansa and back.
 
Guy stiffened. A wild beast started to roar in his core. Nobody would take
Sansa away from him! The king had decreed Sansa to be his, so that was what
she'd be!
Fortunately, Sansa answered in a soft voice, "Ser Jaime, you came here to keep
the vow you'd given my mother?"
The golden-haired knight shrugged.
"Not the standard procedure for an oathbreaker like me, right?"
Sansa sighed.
"Not a standard procedure for most men these days. These are dangerous times,
as you've found out for yourself. So I guess I have to thank you for your
steadfastness. Only I should say that I don't need any saving... not from my
husband, that is."
 
Ser Jaime grimaced, and Guy felt the need to let him taste his fist.
"While I was recovering from my injury, Lady San... Gisborne,  I heard of your
wedding and of your leave for Nottingham. So I didn't travel south first, but
west. I must confess I'm still weakened, so coming here first and looking after
you is the easier way. But of course, I'll have to travel on to the capital
soon enough. After a short while of gathering strength."
"Fuck,"Guy thought then. "The last thing I needed was a Lannister man watching
my derrière. Great."
And though Sansa hid her feelings well, he would have put up any wager she was
just as underwhelmed about the Kingslayer's visit as he was.
***** Considerations and consummations *****
Chapter Notes
     Some gratuitous, awkward sex included.
Sansa couldn't quite decide: on the one hand, she wanted to Ser Jaime to go,
and the sooner, the better. After all, he was a Lannister, and he'd hurt her
father and had killed Jory, for all she knew.
On the other hand, there were two reasons not to want him to move on to King's
Landing.
First, the man had spent a considerable amount in her brother's and mother's
surroundings, and Sansa wanted to learn everything there was to know about
those two family members she had just lost. Sure, the Kingslayer's perspective
would be biased in a negative way, but it was still better than nothing. And
Lady Brienne could probably give her even more precious information.
Second, the Lannister faction would get even stronger if united in the capital
and would be able to cook up more bad things. The latter point had to be
prevented under all circumstances.
 
So Sansa said, "I can understand your plans, Ser Jaime. Have you already
thought of what will happen to you in the capital? I guess that since you're
short a hand your... the king won't want to keep you in the King's Guard, given
how he's already kicked out Ser Barristan. Will your father make sure that
you'll become his heir and wed you off to a woman at court then?"
Ser Jaime shuddered, then bristled.
"I'm the king's... close relative. He won't remove me from my position."
Sansa smiled sadly.
"I see you haven't met the king in a while. In contrast to me. He'll sack you
as soon as you arrive in the capital. Because he can. Nobody can stop him, not
even your sister or your Lord Father, if his Highness has made up his mind. I'm
sure the king will wed you off just the way he wedded me off to Ser Guy."
Ser Jaime turned sallow then, and he and Lady Brienne exchanged glances.
 
At that moment, a servant entered with a platter of food. Guy looked as if he
rather wanted to strangle his guests than to feed them, so Sansa placed an
appeasing hand onto his thigh under the table.
It turned out the visitors were ravenous, despite the bleak scenario Sansa had
pictured for the kingslayer. Ser Jaime was having some problems to eat his food
with just one hand, and Lady Brienne helped him in an unobtrusive way. Sansa
made a mental note.
She spoke, "By the way, you should ride to Nottingham tomorrow. They've got a
decent healer there who can take care of your healing stump, Ser Jaime."
The kingslayer stopped dead in his movement and stiffened.
Then, he willed himself to relax and answered, "Thanks for your advice. I mean
to go there anyway to check on everything and to report back to my Lord Father,
but I wanted to come here first."
"And I'm glad you've taken your vow so seriously," Sansa lied without blushing.
The court in King's Landing had taught her many things nobody should know, or
be capable of.
 
Then, two little guest rooms were made ready, and they all retreated for the
night.
"Can't wait to see their behinds tomorrow," Ser Guy murmured in their own
bedroom, and Sansa noticed he wasn't speaking too loudly, because the walls of
Locksley Manor were nowhere near as massive as the ones of the castle at
Nottingham. Or perhaps he had learned, just like herself, that walls could have
ears, no matter how thick they were.
Sansa buried her face against his chest, inhaled his scent, and nodded.
"I know. I just don't want him to report something in the capital that could
cause us further trouble."
Guy combed with his fingers through her hair, and Sansa started to relax. She
looked up and into his blue eyes.
 
Then, Guy looked away, suddenly... wait... insecure? Him? Sansa was confused
and cupped his cheek.
"What is it, husband?"
His Adam's apple moved.
"Nothing, really."
"Don't lie at me," Sansa answered.
His look flickered towards her and then away again.
"It's just...," Guy ventured forth. "You're my wife now, and I wouldn't allow
anyone to take that away from me again. I'm... errr... getting used to you.
And... I'd so like to sleep with you tonight, but I know you're still mourning
and..."
His voice faltered, his social clumsiness taking over once again.
 
Sansa found it endearing, and his words touched her. She rose onto her toes and
kissed him softly on his lips. Next, she took his hand and led her husband to
their bed.
She looked at him with a tiny, sad smile on her lips and spoke, "I'd welcome
your embrace tonight... if you can be gentle."
Guy's mouth opened a little. Then, le licked his lips.
"Oh, Sansa! The gods know I'm not a gentle man, but they also know I'd rather
open my veins and bleed to death than to hurt you tonight."
 
Together, they sank onto the bed, kissing deeply and taking off each other's
clothes. Their explorations were slow, conscious - exactly what Sansa needed to
soothe her nerves and to make her heavy heart lighter. When Guy finally slipped
into her, they both gasped, and it felt like coming home. They continued their
kissing, let their hands roam each other's body, and Sansa felt something akin
to happiness for the first time since she had learned of the Red Wedding...
 
... when suddenly...
 
"AAAH!"
A female voice coming from one of the guest rooms.
Sansa and Guy both stopped dead.
"That's Lady Brienne!" Sansa breathed.
 
Wham!
"And that's her bed," Guy replied.
It was difficult for Sansa to think straight with her husband's shaft deep
inside of her.
"Robin Hood?" she asked. "An ambush!"
 
Wham!
"Aaaah!"
Guy rolled up his eyes.
"Ambush yes, but of a different sort if you ask me. I think we've just
witnessed the defloration of the Maid of Tarth."
Sansa's eyes widened.
"You mean... she and Ser Jaime?"
"I'd bet my sword hand on it."
 
Further away, the thumping and moaning continued. And intensified. Now, there
was also Ser Jaime's voice to be discerned.
Sansa couldn't believe it.
"Gods, what is he doing to her!?" she breathed. "If this is her first time...
how can she endure THIS?"
Guy growled.
"If you ask me, this warrior woman is used to worse pain in the training yard.
And I've got a feeling she's been so randy for a while she doesn't care."
 
Sansa still didn't know how to handle these sounds. The crescendo next door
rather indicated a pig was being slaughtered than a woman learning about the
basics of passion. Sansa and Guy were both so distracted that they couldn't go
on with their own activities. Guy's member softened, but at least he stayed
where he was.
Fortunately, it was over soon, given how wild Lady Brienne and Ser Jaime must
have been.
"About time. Now... where were we?" Guy breathed into her ear, and he smirked
against her skin.
Sansa's lady parts clenched in reaction to this, and her husband uttered a low
chuckle. Further down, he was hardening again. Slowly, they got back into the
rhythm and started to enjoy themselves again...
 
 
... when...
Wham!
"Aaaaaaaaa! Oh yeeeeesss!"
 
Guy tensed.
"Fuck, tell me this isn't true!" he muttered. "Not a second round!"
Sansa palmed her face, but also had to stiffle a giggle.
She kissed Guy's brow.
Her husband wasn't appeased and growled, "If they don't leave for the castle
first thing in the morning, I'll have to cut off balls tomorrow!"
Sansa giggled again.
 
The second tryst took longer, and the sounds from next door were even worse.
Sansa could only wonder what on earth was going on. Surely this wasn't normal?
The bad thing was that Guy got completely discouraged now. He slid out of Sansa
and balled his fists. Next, he slid out of bed and hammered against the wall.
"WHATEVER kink stuff you've got going on there, Kingslayer, there are still
persons HERE who are trying to sleep. With one another, peacefully, but by now,
I'd rather say literally."
"ALWAYS at your service, Gisborne," Ser Jaime roared back, his voice rife with
the broadest satisfied smirk ever.
Sansa hid under her blanket in shame, and she was wondering if Lady Brienne was
reacting the same way.
 
"I'll turn the man into hash," Guy rumbled. "Arrogant bastard. He's always had
to clam up in bed until now, in case the rumours about him and his sister are
true, but that's no excuse to turn into a fog horn now."
He came back to bed, but his romantic mood was gone. A pity, Sansa thought.
Her husband rolled around, growled at the wall once more - and then, he dozed
off, or at least pretended to do so. Sansa needed more time until she had
regained her composure. Finally, she did manage to fall asleep, but she still
didn't find much peace that night.
***** Sunrise melodrama *****
Chapter Notes
     In which Guy kind of fucks up a situation...
Guy was only able to fall asleep around the hour of the wolf, but when he woke
up again, it was still early. The sun was just rising. No wonder he felt like a
straw puppet in the training yard that had been beaten by sparring knights all
day.
Sansa was lying half on top of him, like so often. She was still breething
deeply and evenly. Her soft, auburn hair spilled across his chest. Guy's belly
felt a bit sticky, so he guessed he had spilled his seed in his sleep.
Guy uttered a barely audible grumble and rubbed his eyes. Then, he allowed his
fingers to trail through Sansa's tresses. As a response, his wife uttered a
little "mmmm" herself and rubbed her face against the crook of his neck.
 
That, in its turn, caused a strage tugging feeling in Guy's stomach.
"I always feel so much better when she's close. When she's touching me," he
mused.
Before, he hadn't deemed it possible that simple touching could have such...
such... positive effetcs. Only now was he learning the opposite - and he was
avid to do so.
"She's at ease with me," Guy thought. "But how is that possible? I'm not
someone to be at ease with."
 
"Morning Guy," Sansa mumbled against this skin at this moment.
She still sounded drowsy. Sweet. A little smile played around the corners of
Guy's mouth. He was smiling more these days than he had done in years, come to
think of it.
"And a very good morning to you, too, dearest wife," he murmured into Sansa's
ear.
Sansa moved up her head, looked at him, and leaned in to give him a melting
kiss, which he accepted all too willingly.
 
While they were kissing, Sansa suddenly tensed and whimpered into his mouth. At
once, Guy ended the caress and looked at her. Sansa's eyes, no, all of her
face, reflected pain.
"What is it?" he wanted to know at once.
"My... tummy hurts," Sansa peeped.
"Let's see," Guy replied and moved away the blanket so he could have a look at
her body.
As soon as he lifted the fabric, it became apparent what was wrong: Sansa was
bleeding. The stickiness Guy had sensed earlier on was his wife's...
"Moon blood,"he realised.
 
Sansa uttered a squeal.
"Oh Guy! I've... Sweet Mother and on you! I'm so sorry. The shame!"
Guy stared at the red blotch on his skin and blinked.
Then, he said, shrugging, "It's nothing. I've had much worse substances on my
body in battle. Brain. The half-digested contents of intestines. No bard would
ever sing of such things in his battle songs. Now, let's wipe the blood away.
Are you all right, Sansa? I've heard that women have got this kind of
affliction, but - It's not dangerous for you, is it?"
 
His wife still couldn't look him in the eyes.
"No, it's normally not dangerous. Not for a healthy woman anyway."
"Good, good," Guy uttered, got up and made for the washing bowl.
 
While he was pouring them wife some water from a jug, he heard a little sniffle
behind his back. He turned and noticed Sansa's cheeks were wet.
"Sansa!" he exclaimed and hastened back to the bed. "Is the pain so bad?"
His wife shook her head.
"It's not that," she blubbered. "It's... oh Guy, I'm not with child! I had
thought... You and me, we've been together."
She blushed.
 
Guy blinked and was speechless. His heart was palpitating like mad.
She was sad she wasn't pregnant? Sansa had wanted a baby? He hadn't known!
When she had had her moon blood soon after they had left King's Landing, she
hadn't reacted like this at all. He'd barely noticed her state.
 
It took Guy a moment to regain his voice.
Then, he said, "You know what a shitty father I am."
Sansa uttered a sob, wrapped her arms around his neck and wept against his
skin. Guy didn't know what to say or to do.
 
"Reason. I should make her see reason," he thought.
Guy cleared his throat and patted her back.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Only... it's probably not the worst thing if you're not
with child yet."
Sansa lifted her head and looked at him as if his facial colour had switched to
green with violet stripes.
"What do you mean, Guy?"
He sighed.
"Sansa, you're still young. A little more time for your body to mature would do
you good. What's even more relevant is that we're in such dangerous
circumstances these days. I don't want to know what would happen if people knew
you to be pregnant."
What he left unsaid was, "The Sheriff of Nottingham would use that knowledge
for some sadistic shit. And the gods know what the Kingslayer and his monster
woman would do in such a situation. Or Lord Lannister. He wouldn't be amused.
At all."
 
 
Sansa wiped her face and sniffled again.
"This isn't fair," she whispered.
"I know," Guy answered.
"Do you want me to drink one of these concoctions so as not to conceive?" Sansa
asked feebly.
Guy wondered how his wife had come to know of such nasty details. Who in King's
Landing...? He shuddered.
 
"I don't like the concept," he said. "Moon tea is poisonous to some extent,
that's why you wouldn't conceive. But I don't want you to take poison. Don't
tell me there isn't a risk of sorts. Nah."
He shook his head.
"What then?" Sansa asked feebly. "Will you stay away from the marriage bed?"
Guy snorted.
"Pffft! Rather ask the sun not to rise in the morning." He crushed Sansa to his
chest. "I can't stay away from you. It's just... Give me some time. I'll ponder
our options."
 
Sansa embraced him of her own accord.
"I'm just so frightened we might never have children. I'd so love to show you
what it means to have a family."
On hearing these words, Guy's brain stopped working for a moment. Panic seized
him. He'd failed the other baby. He wasn't made for this. Not good enough. His
guts hurt.
 
He cleared his throat.
"Perhaps the Kingslayer will give us some inspirations - and soon, given how
he's been fucking Brienne of Tarth. Now. Let's clean up this mess and find out
what he's up to, he and this bulky warrior wench. Can you ride? Can you
accompany me to Nottingham?"
Sansa looked at him with her big, blue eyes, and Guy knew he was behaving
exactly like the shitstain he was. But this was the only route he could take at
this moment.
His wife squared her shoulders, adopted a distant air, and answered, "Yes, my
lord, I can ride."
Guy then knew Sansa was back in the remote state he had found her in when he
had first met her in King's Landing. He resolved to allow a sparring partner to
beat him to a pulp in the trainig yard - provided it wasn't the one-pawed lion
or his ugly, giant sweetheart.
 
***** Sort of a déjà-vu *****
They accompanied Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne to Nottingham. The tall woman
wouldn't look at anyone, and was so red in the face and down her neck that her
blush had a blush of its own. That the Kingslayer was in an unnervingly jovial
mood and babbling like a waterfall didn't help the riding party in the least.
Sansa could see Guy shoot murderous glances at the golden-haired Lannister, who
pretended not to notice the effects he had on everyone. And all the time, Sansa
felt raw on the inside - in her tummy as well as in her soul. She decided that,
maddening as it was, Ser Jaime's prattling at least ensured she didn't have to
make any conversation herself.
They were riding along a broad forest path, and the sun was shining through the
canopies above. Sansa allowed her thoughts to drift off and to not listen to
the cocky lion. She just uttered polite sounds like "mhm" and "aha" every now
and then.
 
BONK.
A big stone hit Lady Brienne, and she fell off her horse.
Sansa closed her eyes.
"Oh please!"she thought. "Not again!"
BONK.
"Ouff!" she heard her husband utter, and Sansa's eyes snapped open.
She squealed when she saw Guy glide out of the saddle and to the earth as well.
 
"Good morning, Lady Sansa!" Robin Hood called over to her. "You've got
interesting visitors at your side. Who's that? There are some rumours, you
know. Could it be a lion? A one-pawed lion?"
At that moment, Ser Jaime uttered a snarl, directed his horse towards Hood,
drew his sword with his left hand... only he got caught in his movement since
he wasn't used to doing it with his left hand. At the same time, the Hodor-
sized man Sansa had seen before emerged with his staff from behind a bush
and...
Wham!
The horse cantered on without his rider.
"Ha, Little John, fine swing!" the leader of the outlaws called out. "And
against the allegedly best knight of the realm."
"Now a golden cripple, by the look of it," the giant man answered and glowered
about himself.
 
Sansa didn't care about Hood's wish for communication. She swung herself off
her horse and hastened over to her unconscious husband.
"Don't worry," Robin called over to her. "Weed doesn't wither. He'll be up in
no time."
"And how do you know that?" Sansa yelled. The corners of her eyes were starting
to burn. "Do you have the gift of foresight?"
Miffed, the leader of the outlaws answered, "We just wanted to find out if this
lion here can shit gold. We've got ample use for gold, as you know."
"He's not his father, just so you know, but when his father finds out about
this, he'll write new stanzas for the Castamere song," Sansa replied, turned
her back on the knave, and examined Guy.
 
Her husband was unconscious. He was breathing, but he was also bleeding at the
back of his head.
Sansa's hands were shaking when she touched his dark hair, and she thought that
- enemy or no - she'd hand Lord Tywin the torch to burn down this wood if
something happened to her husband.
Meanwhile, she heard the outlaws try to loot Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne - only
the two didn't carry much with them, apart from the armour, which couldn't be
removed in this situation. So basically all the Merry Men could do was to take
the horses and a weapon or two - which were still valuable enough.
 
"Begging your pardon for the interruption, my lady. You'll have to forgive our
curiosity, but it was too good a chance to come face to face with the most
infamous Westerosi Lannister knight. A pity he couldn't contribute more to our
cause. And I guess you wouldn't tell us about the reasons for his presence? Or
the big woman's?"
Sansa ignored his words. Words were wind. She was only worried about Guy.
A little moan indicated he was coming back to his senses, thank the heavens!
 
There was a sigh from Hood.
"I guess that's a good moment to take our leave. My lady - have a nice day."
Sansa remembered one of Arya's obscene gestures their mother had tried to
forbid her, and Sansa was tempted to try it out. However, another moan caused
her to focus on her husband again. Moments later, she was alone with the
injured, the Merry Men gone.
"Guy!" she peeped. "Guy! Can you hear me? Look at me!"
 
Fortunately, her husband did open his eyes, a crease between his eyebrows. When
he recognised her, however, his features relaxed, and he smiled.
"You here, love? Must be in the seven heavens then," he mumbled.
Next, his eyes darkened, and he threw up, right over her hands.
***** Honeymoon... kind of... *****
Guy didn't remember the attack or anything else until he realised he was in a
bumpy cart. Which was a horrible thing, because his head felt as if it were
wrapped in thunderclouds.
"What happened?" he asked and groaned.
"You don't remember?" a voice asked at his side.
Guy moved his head a little although his skull almost exploded from the effort.
He recognised Ser Jaime Lannister at his side. He had a bandage around his
torso. The man was smirking, but there was pain in his eyes.
"No," Guy answered and held his head.
"Ah, see, you got a nice stone against your head from that special friend of
yours, Robin Hood."
Guy harrumphed and whimpered. Then, he stiffened.
 
"Where's Sansa? Sansa! Where are you?"
"I'm here!" his wife called from beyond the cart. "How are you?"
"Shitty," Guy answered. "But at least I can still complain. How are you?"
"I'm fine. Lie back and relax. We'll be in Nottingham in about ten minutes."
Relieved, Guy sank back and closed his eyes. The daylight hurt in his eyes.
 
At that point, Ser Jaime took over again.
"That huge chap with his staff - he broke one or two of my ribs. Bastard."
"Hmm...," Guy grumbled.
The Kingslayer went on, "Brienne is like you, just a little better. She's tied
on horseback, because she's too big for the cart."
"I heard that," the warrior woman growled at her lover, and Jaime chuckled,
then moaned.
Damn, those two were even nerve-wracking when they were injured.
Guy kept quiet. He only felt a pang of pride when Ser Jaime told him that Sansa
had ridden to Nottingham on her own, had alerted the people there, and had
orginsed help.
"Good girl," he mumbled and that was that.
 
When they arrived at the castle, the sheriff was already waiting.
"What do I have you for, Gisborne?" he complained. "Not a good quota as of yet.
First -"
"And a good day to you, sheriff, Jaime Lannister my name," the Kingslayer cut
in. "I hope you do recognise the son of your liege lord, even if I'm lacking a
hand."
That was the moment when Lord Vaisey furrowed his brow, and Guy was grateful
when Sansa chimed in, "I know Ser Jaime from my stay in King's Landing - it's
really him."
After that moment, the sheriff was all honey and Guy all but forgotten. Fawning
over the Kingslayer fortunately seemed to be more important to the sheriff than
complaining about Guy's "ambush quota".
 
Guy and Sansa could take up lodgings in the castle chamber they already knew.
The maester appeared soon after.
"Bad concussion," was the diagnosis. "But no fracture. You've got to stay in
bed for a week, Ser Guy. You need to rest."
Guy groaned, this time in frustration. He was an active man and hated to be in
bed.
Then, Sansa murmured into his ear, "I need some rest, too. I'll stay with you."
Now THAT sounded much better, Guy had to admit. And they had had no break since
the day the king had forced their wedding. Maybe, a week together was an
opportunity of sorts.
 
As it turned out, he even enjoyed the time with his wife... if you didn't count
the horrible headaches. They were both in bed most of the time. It was all
utterly harmless - and yet, it was not. They didn't fuck, of course.
Still, somehow the ongoing physical proximity did weird things to Guy. Sansa
loved snuggling - and she didn't mind doing it with him. Embraces, little
kisses here and there... It was a whole new world for Guy - and he realised he
was greedy to get to know it. He also came to understand that he was
emotionally involved with regard to his wife. That he couldn't do without her
anymore. He knew little and less about feelings and had no words for them, but
there was no denying that he was feeling something - and that it went a little
deeper with every moment he spent with Sansa.
 
Only... did she reciprocate his emotions? All her reactions and smiles showed
him that she was open and kind of... fond of him. For whatever reason. But how
deep did it all go?
At some point, Guy ventured forth.
"You know Sansa - if I didn't know myself to be a harsh man I'd think you like
me."
Sansa blinked.
"But I do like you!" she exclaimed. "A lot! And you're not all bad, you know?
I'm sure there's more good in you than you think."
 
Was that the answer Guy had hoped for? He felt a bit stale on the inside. Then,
he reprimanded himself. What was he expecting? The king had forced her to marry
him, a man so deep below her station. A foreigner. A man who she had no
affiliation with. Moreover, she had experienced so much grief. Guy had noticed
two big scars on her back, and judging by the colour, they weren't old. Of
course, a person with her experiences wouldn't... wouldn't... He could be glad
they had reached this level; it was nothing short of a wonder to have done so.
 
After five days, Sansa showed him just how fond she was of him.
She smiled, blushed, and whispered into his ear, "My moon blood is over, Guy.
Do you think we could resume our... wedded activities soon?"
Guy grinned at his wife.
"So willing?"
Sansa's blush deepened.
"You... you feel good."
Guy's eyes sparkled.
"Is that so? What about my looks? My scent? Taste? My voice when I moan your
name?"
 
Sansa's breathing intensified.
"I like everything you offer."
Sadly, Guy still wasn't fit enough, and his cock didn't play along. However, he
was able to apply his hands and mouth, and Sansa's happy moans soon told him
that she wasn't missing anything. Guy thought he delighted in everything his
wife had to offer, too. And in the course of few hours, he managed to make her
peak five times, no less, and it was such a beautiful experience Guy rejoiced
with every shudder and every squeal he elicited from her.
 
One day later, his cock felt much better. They still had to be careful, but
finally, finally, they were able to come together again. Guy knew that chances
were small Sansa would conceive a child so soon after her moonblood, if the
words of a camp whore could be believed who he had come across in a tavern
once. She had been telling one of her customers such things, and Guy hoped them
to be true.
When he slid into his wife, she was wet and sighed and wrapped her legs around
his middle. They set to work and simply enjoyed themselves. For a long, long,
time. Oh, the wonder of being together with Sansa Stark, his wife!
 
When they re-emerged from their room after a week, they were utterly full of
one another - and yet, it would never be enough. He'd never tire of Sansa, Guy
realised.
Seemingly, someone else had drawn similar conclusions for his own situation in
life: the Kingslayer had married his bulky warrior wench two days prior.
"At least we're not the weirdest couple around anymore," Guy murmured into
Sansa's ear, and his wife poked him in the ribs.
Guy chuckled to himself. What an interesting thing amusement was.
***** On feelings and unnerving people *****
Sansa was so happy after this week she had no words for it. Guy had called her
"love"! Granted, he had been injured and didn't seem to remember the incident,
but everything he had done and said since then indicated he did have positive
feelings for her. One only had to think of...
Sansa blushed. Everything she'd ever known about the marriage bed was that a
wife should endure and serve her husband - only Guy had rather served her these
past few days. And gods, had it felt good!
And how handsome her husband was! There was an expression in his blue eyes that
made him intoxicaingly beautiful. What was most remarkable was how he was
smiling more and more often this days... and when he did so, Sansa's entrails
quivered, and she felt the urgent need to start the next round of wedded
intimacies. It was all very embarrassing and not ladylike at all, but Sansa
couldn't help herself. Fortunately, Guy didn't object. Not at all.
 
In the past, Sansa would have believed herself to be in love at once, but her
stay at the Red Keep had made her hesitant about matters of the heart. She
didn't trust her feelings, considering that she had once thought herself to be
in love with Joffrey.
But she wanted to love Guy. She really did. She was in need of love. And she
wondered if he was in need of love, too. Maybe that need was what drove their
relationship, rather than love itself? Sansa didn't really know, but she was
willing to be happy all the same.
 
She needed that positive attitude in the face of certain other people.
She and Guy were still at Nottingham Castle, and as soon as they peeked their
noses out the chamber door, the sheriff tasked Guy with training Ser Jaime
Lannister.
"So he's still fawning over the Kingslayer," Guy murmured into Sansa's ear one
morning when they arrived in the Great Hall.
"Mhm," Sansa made, her face expressionless.
""I'd believe him to be the most loyal Lannister man if he weren't his own man
first and foremost," Guy uttered under his breath.
 
"Morning, Gisborne," the sheriff exclaimed at this point and grinned.
"Sweettalking to your missy?"
Guy shrugged.
"Just told her not to prattle about these stupid romantic songs today she seems
to be fond of. I'm not in the mood for women's follies."
Sansa cast down her eyes. Even so, she noticed Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne
exchange glances.
The sheriff nodded.
"Got no time for such things anyway. You've been lazy enough of late, Gisborne.
The guards need a better training, and so does our most noble guest here."
 
"Ser Jaime, didn't you want to travel south with your bride?" Guy addressed the
one-handed knight.
The Kingslayer cleared his throat.
"Initially, that was my intention - but honestly, there's little use in that.
My lord father has always wanted me as his heir in the west, so that's where
I'll stay."
Sansa thought at once, "He doesn't want to meet his father's wrath. Or
Joffrey's. Or his sister's."
Guy grimaced, sat down without another word, and started to break his fast.
 
After they had eaten their fill and the men were filing out for training, Lady
Brienne took hold of Sansa's arm.
"Your husband - he's so rude. I'm so sorry," she emphasised in a way that
indicated she'd gladly bash in Guy's face in the training yard of only Sansa
would allow it.
Sansa answered, "I've experienced worse. In the capital."
"I've experienced worse at your husband's hands, and even more so the hands of
his family,"Sansa thought.
She imagined Lady Brienne would grasp the implications, but the warrior woman
didn't seem to make that connection.
"The bread riots? The Battle of the Blackwater? I've heard of it. Still, your
husband should be more respectful. There's no excuse for him behaving like a
bastard."
 
Sansa felt the need to screw up her eyes like Arya would have done it in her
place. It was difficult to make the sheriff believe hers and Guy's marriage not
to be overly successful and at the same time make the Lannister fraction
believe they didn't need to take action against Guy.
So Sansa placed her hand on Lady Brienne's arm.
"Please. Leave my husband be. He's my task, not yours."
Lady Brienne sighed at that, shook her head, and left.
 
Sansa rubbed her face on the way out of the great hall. In the corridor, she
came across Lady Marian. The young woman smiled at her.
"Lady Sansa! Have you recovered?"
"I wasn't really ill. Just needed to be with my husband. He got injured in
Robin Hood's last attack, but he's better now."
"I see," Marian answered with a dismissive gesture. She obviously didn't care
about Guy's recovery. "What I wanted to ask: I'm planning to visit the local
orphanage. Are you interested to come along?"
Under normal circumstances, Sansa would have liked the idea, but she sensed
that Marian would turn it all into a political episode.
"It's a good idea, but sadly I've got another appointment, Lady Marian," she
excused herself vaguely.
She could tell the other woman was a tad frustrated.
"A pity," Lady Marian said. "The poor children need our support."
Sansa inclined her head in silent agreement that still didn't give Lady Marian
a chance at increasing her pressure on Sansa. So the young woman huffed,
excused herself, and took her leave.
 
Sansa looked about herself and thought that there was a distinct parallel
between King's Landing and Nottingham: she felt as if she were balancing on a
rope high in the air. She thought of Bran and hoped she'd never fall.
***** Need of smut *****
He took his wife home to keep her safe as quickly as he could. In the evening,
Guy rubbed his face when he entered Locksley Manor. Fuck, the day had SO worn
him out!
Back in Nottingham Castle, the Kingslayer was an arrogant ass chock full with
self-pity about having lost his hand. Jaime Lannister's bride was a crossbreed
between a bulldog and a brainless giant, and he himself had been in the middle
of it all. Together with dozens of castle guards who were too stupid to tell a
sword hilt from a blade. And Sheriff Vaisey was the shit-coloured cherry on
top.
 
As soon as Guy arrived in his private rooms and saw Sansa, he announced, "Wife,
I think I need to have a long, wild fuck, or else I'll implode. Really, I
didn't know a single day could be so nerve-wrecking."
To his utter confusion, Sansa climbed onto the next table and lifted her
skirts. She blushed a little, but sounded avid enough.
"What a coincidence. Can we do it all night, please?"
Guy blinked.
"What happened to you?"
Sansa shrugged.
"I did a tour of Locksley Village to get to know the people here. They all sang
me a song of how wonderful Robin Hood allegedly is. And when I offered them to
teach the children how to read and to write, they all told me that their
children didn't need to learn such balderdash. That it would just give the
young ones dangerous ideas and would keep them from working."
 
"I see," Guy commented, opened his breeches and asked, "Does this cock look
massive enough for your needs?"
Sansa's blush deepened, but she nodded.
"By all means. Do proceed, please."
A smirk tugged at the corners of Guy's mouth. Always a polite lady, even in her
request for smut.
He lost his grin, however, when he slid into his wife, because suddenly, he
found it far more urgent to moan.
"Gods!" he gasped.
 
At once, Sansa wrapped her legs around his middle. Yesss, that was finally a
turn on this day Guy could appreciate. And he was absolutely sure he'd never
get accustomed to having such a willing, eager person at his side who wanted
what he wanted and who supported him, no matter what.
Despite his already delirious lust, Guy resolved to gift his wife with the best
intimacies he could offer. It was what she deserved. So he took good care of
her breasts, not only of her cunt, delicious as it was. He also licked the
sensitive pulse point behind her ears, and Sansa nearly lost control.
 
After a few minutes, he pulled out and manoevered her to their bed. There, he
showed her it was possible to pleasure one another with the mouth at the same
time. Guy had never tried out such a thing before, but with Sansa he was
curious to make certain experiments. Oh, and it was the most glorious thing to
taste her and to feel her moans around his cock at the same time! What an
enthusiastic person she was!
 
When Guy came, he realised almost at once that he hadn't had enough. Before, he
had always thought a hard shaft was essential for a good fuck. Strangely
enough, it didn't matter all that much now. He and Sansa simply didn't take
their hands off one another, needed more, needed to go on. That Guy's cock was
flaccid after his peak was simply something they more or less ignored. They
were both still hungry about one another, and Sansa was so wet she was
dripping. Her climax when he licked her was the most beautiful thing to
witness.
For a moment, Guy wondered if she had had enough after her peak - but she was
no better than himself and needed more. Their lovemaking became slower and more
playful - when had he actually learned to play in bed? - but Sansa certainly
didn't stop her caresses.
 
In the end, Guy didn't know when or how it ended - sleep claimed them both at
some point, he suspected. But when he woke up in the morning, he was brimming
with warm feelings for his wife. How was it even possible they had found
together in such a way? As if they belonged together?
Guy didn't know. But what he knew was that he'd never tire of Sansa Gisborne-
Stark. Not ever. Nor would he ever be able to take her affection and support
for granted.
"I'll never want another woman again," he thought... and immediately panicked
about what it meant.
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