I'm Bitter Like Whiskey (You're Sweet Like Wine)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
“I could teach you,” he blurts out, and he has no idea where the words come from, or why he offers—Arya or Jon would be able to teach her easily and both are better fighters than he is now, but now his offer lies between them, and surprise flits across her face, her head tilting slightly to study him as she purses her lips in thought.
“Very well,” she murmurs finally, voice throaty and low, “I will meet you here at two hours before dawn the day after tomorrow,” she tells him with a tight little nod of her head that’s not quite a dismissal, but is an obvious close to the conversation.
He nods his agreement and waits till she’s brushed past him and the room has fallen dark to exhale heavily and wonder what in the seven hells he’s gotten himself into.
Jaime and Sansa are plagued by nightmares of the horrors they've endured--both ache with a loneliness that they could never admit to, and in each other, find a balm for. What starts as swordplay turns into friendship, and ends in so much more than either of them could ever have hoped for.