Cross the Line

Chapter Five

"Lady Stark, that was quite the message you sent." Arya Stark had quietly left the Godswood after their half-brother left them, and Sansa had bid Sandor Clegane to follow. She knew the two had some things to settle between themselves. Ser Jaime Lannister stood quietly since they'd left, Sansa merely staring at the weirwood tree as if to find answers there in its old face.

Apparently, Jaime meant to break their silence.

Ghost rubbed his face against the Lady of Winterfell's thigh, as if to offer comfort. She petted his head softly. "Yes, I'm sure it was."

"Did your sister really kill off the Freys?"

"Only the ones who broke Guest Right. We have no use for those we cannot trust." No one in the North or beyond would miss old Walder Frey- even his wives- only the Frey children would mount a rebellion for the dead Freys. The Freys had lost favor, were deemed cursed by all the gods for the breaking of Guest Right. Most would never dare visit, for fear of sharing the same fate as those that attended the Red Wedding.

No, no one would mourn the Freys or the Boltons as they had Ned and Cat and their poor son Robb, gone too soon and slain over his soup.

"Didn't she break Guest Right in return? Don't you fear the curse of the gods?" Jaime asked, confused. Northerns were a superstitious bunch, so it is no surprise when they hold such traditions in high regard, but this tradition is so respected that even the southern kingdoms, the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea, and the Wildlings beyond the Wall respect Guest Right. Why would the Stark girls not fear bringing the wrath of the gods down upon their heads?

"She did not break bread with them. She did not drink their wine or share their salt. She even slept outside. She was not protected under Guest Right, and neither were they."

Jaime often thought on the time he broke Guest Right. He tried to kill that poor, curious boy for climbing too high and seeing Jaime's crimes laid bare. Jaime hadn't been caught, hadn't been formally punished in front of other Lords and Ladies, but the gods punished him well enough. He'd done so many dishonorable things for Cersei, all for nothing now. Cersei wanted him dead, and he wanted to be laid to rest in the cold ground now too.

He wanted to see his sweet children again. Tommen and Myrcella, so sweet and nothing like their mother or father, how he longed to see their smiling faces- even Joffrey. More accurately, he wanted to miss his oldest boy. Joffrey has been a cunt, just as they all said, as the Queen of Thorns had said. But the Lion of Winterfell could not help but wish things had gone differently for the boy. Would his first son have turned out different, better, under Jaime's watchful eye, instead of the drunken King who couldn't seem to love anything but a ghost and those damn Starks?

"Seems dishonorable. To wear another's face and masquerade as a friend, only to betray those who let their guard down in their own hall."

"Isn't that what your sister did to me?"

To that, Jaime Lannister had no response.

"The men who'd murdered my family, who'd seen to the destruction of my House, had no honor. These men do not deserve honor. I will see to it that they do not escape justice for their actions, whether in an honorable or dishonorable way. Then, and only then, when every last one of them have been slain or put to the sword, will I return to my family's honorable way of life," Sansa said, her tone brooking no argument.

"You'll find, Lady Stark, that it is very hard to appear honorable to those around you once you've thrown off the shackles of honor and duty, even for a moment. It is very hard to place those shackles back upon your wrists when you've tasted the freedom of dishonor," Jaime Lannister, Kingslayer, Man Without Honor, told her, all honesty and self-deprecating mirth.