LION TRAP, game of thrones

𝐈. blade

"Tyrion flees the city, he's fleeing now anyway. It will be blamed on him. That's not - but it will help you. Cersei won't execute you, she won't."

It was the middle of the night, Sansorr was leaning against Jaime, the knight having to carry him as Sansorr's body had completely given up. He stared at the stone floor.

"Sansorr, listen to me!" Jaime took his face in his hands and forced Sansorr to look at him, "Do you understand all this? I will stand up for you, say that father wanted you on our side and that you are on our side. You're on my side, do you understand that?"

"Yes," Sansorr whispered as Jaime helped him back into the chamber, stroking his hair briefly after leaning him against the wall.

"You're sick, half starved. No one will believe it was you. Tyrion came to your room, you were trying to protect Father. That's the truth now, Sansorr. The truth is what counts."

Sansorr looked up at Jaime, shaking weakly. The bandage on his leg was completely soaked again by now and the puddle of blood growing around him was mingling with Tywin's blood.

The blond looked at him briefly, then turned to leave.

Sansorr began to cry again.

"Jaime... please don't- stay with me..." he pleaded weakly and fearfully. The ghosts would return if Jaime left, he was sure of it.

Jaime knelt to him again, putting his golden hand to his cheek, using the thumb of the other to brush the tears from his cheeks. "I have to save Tyrion, I can't stay, Sansorr, I can't. But I'll be back," Jaime's voice trembled. Sansorr had killed his father and now Jaime was helping him anyway.

"Why?" Sansorr whispered, seeming to drown in these emerald eyes.

"Because of you," the Lannister murmured, as if the words hurt him. Then he disappeared.

Sansorr stayed behind, slowly bleeding out. His gaze would not leave Tywin... what was left of him. He thought of the way Tywin had put his hand to his head.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered and pulled his healthy leg up, burying his face in his hands so he wouldn't have to look at him. The urge to laugh was gone, but he couldn't really cry anymore either.

He was simply afraid that Tywin would get up and punish him for his actions.

He felt sick and dizzy, Jaime had only given him a little water, not even close to enough to satisfy any of his needs. But when Tywin had decided he should be starving, then he really had to starve. How had he thought he could withstand? How could he have rebelled like this? His chest burned with fear. It raged inside him, clawing at his guts in an attempt to escape.

Then the door was opened and the fear in him went crazy because it still couldn't escape, still locked in Sansorr's body.

What happened from then on was a blur and Sansorr could hardly remember it later. He just kept repeating the story that Jaime had drilled into him so forcefully. Until the words burned themselves into his tongue, until he almost believed them to be true. But when he closed his eyes, he saw Tywin's shattered skull. What he had done to him.

He was questioned for hours, only late in the day did someone decide to take him to the Maesters. It was Qyburn who looked at Sansorr in shock as two guards brought him in, dragging a trail of blood behind him.

He was placed roughly on a cot, but Sansorr no longer felt any pain. He could barely see and his hearing seemed impaired. So he didn't realize what Qyburn was doing to him.

But when he regained consciousness, he was lying in a soft bed, in a real room. Warm sunlight danced across the white sheets, caressing his skin. He let his gaze wander lazily through the rather small but clean room, out of the window. He could see the sea and had to smile.