After Ser Brynden had excused himself to go to the privy Jaime sat in silence for a moment before remembering his manners. "And you, my lady, what tales have you to tell of your rivers?"
Lysa Tully seemed startled. She opened and closed her mouth without giving an answer. Then she blushed and looked down at the table, as if she would find words in her trencher.
iCersei will eat her alive./i The knights and squires and men-at-arms who'd accompanied him claimed that Lord Tywin was plotting marriage with Lord Hoster. They'd made vulgar jokes about red fish all the way from Casterly Rock to Riverrun. Jaime tried to imagine Lysa as his bride and could not. Cersei would not want to share him with another woman, no more than she would want to see another woman as the future mistress of the Rock.
"Tell him of the time you and I and Petyr fell asleep and drifted half way down the Trident," called the other Tully daughter from further down the table. Hoster Tully's firstborn had been seated to her father's left, while Jaime had been given the seat of honor at his right, with Lysa beside him. Catelyn Tully moved into her father's abandoned chair now. "Tell him, Lysa."
"You just told him, Cat," Lysa said.
Cat Tully gave an exasperated sigh. She looked at Jaime and shook her head and smiled an apologetic smile. "Forgive her, my lord, I fear my sister does not care to remember how she and Petyr badgered our old maester for a tale so boring the poor man fell asleep in the telling, leaving the two of them free to sneak away and steal a skiff to play at being fisherfolk."
"You joined us," Lysa pointed out.
Catelyn laughed. "A boat needs a captain," she said, "And I could row an oar as well as an ironman, or so I believed at that age."
Jaime laughed with her. This one had the makings of a lioness. It was a pity she was already betrothed to Brandon Stark. The musicians had began to play a lively tune. "Will you dance with me, my lady?"
Catelyn glanced at her sister. "I promised the first dance to my uncle, but Lysa is a lovely dancer."
Jaime could do nothing then but ask Lysa Tully for a dance. She consented and put her hand in his, still blushing. Jaime tried to make small talk with her, but she was no help, only uttering brief replies that discouraged further conversation. He was relieved to see the Blackfish had returned by the time the dance ended.
Before Jaime could join him at the high table, however, Ser Brynden was being led to the dance floor by his elder niece. Jaime reluctantly sat beside Lysa and poured them both a fresh cup of Arbor gold. He was bursting to ask Ser Brynden whether it was true Ser Barristan had cut off Maelys the Monstrous' second head before slaying him.
He found himself watching Catelyn Tully as he thought of more questions for her uncle. She jested and laughed as she danced, and her long auburn hair swirled as her uncle spun her.
"Petyr!" Lysa cried happily, and Jaime realized he'd forgotten all about her. She sprang up to embrace a short, weedy boy. "Where did you disappear to?"
"I'll tell you later if you're nice," the boy said, with a leering grin. Jaime realized he was not as young as his small stature made him seem. He stared at Jaime boldly. "You'll not mind if I dance with your lady, my lord?"
Jaime had met him earlier and forgotten him. He was the son of some minor lord from the Vale and a fosterling of Lord Hoster's. Jaime nodded at him and dismissed him from thought as he and Lysa walked out onto the dance floor hand-in-hand.
Ser Brynden and Catelyn soon returned to the high table. Ser Brynden sat down heavily and feigned labored breathing. "I'm getting too old to keep up with you, Cat."
Cat Tully laughed, her blue eyes bright. "Old, uncle? Is that to be your excuse when our young lion thrashes you tomorrow?" She gave Jaime a conspiratorial smile.
Jaime knew he would be the one soundly thrashed. He couldn't wait to spar with Ser Brynden in the training yard though. "I'll go easy on him," he promised Catelyn with mock solemnity.
Ser Brynden laughed. "This old trout still has enough fight left in him to whip insolent youngsters. But first a drink." He poured himself a cup of wine. "Cat, entertain our guest while I quench my thirst."
Catelyn seized Jaime's hand and he had no choice but to follow her. He'd thought they were going to dance, but she led him out of the hall and up a winding staircase.
"I would show you the best view in Riverrun, but Father is in his solar with Lord Blackwood."
"Where are you taking me?"
She led him out onto the inner wall of the castle. "To see the second best view."
Below them the rushing waters of the Red Fork and the Tumblestone converged on the castle and from there they flowed together as one mighty river. It was not as majestic as the view at home, but it was impressive nonetheless. Jaime wondered if the Tully girls had grown up playing in the river. He and Cersei had played in the sea until womanhood approached and a new septa convinced Cersei that a great lady did not cavort on the shore like a common fishwife.
"Do you swim, my lady?" he asked.
"Lysa can swim like a fish," Catelyn said.
He wished she would stop pressing her sister's suit. "I'm pleased to hear so, but what about you, my lady? Can you swim as well as your sister?"
"Visit us again when summer comes and I promise I'll out-swim you, my lord," she said sweetly.
"Boastful words, when summer is so far away."
By the time summer came she'd have wed her northern wolf. It was a pity. Jaime could imagine her light summer gown sodden with river water as she climbed triumphant from the Tumblestone. He imagined sunshine on her hair and mischief in her eyes. Or perhaps she would disrobe before their contest to avoid ruining her clothes. He could imagine her waiting in the river, waves lapping against her breasts. With her hair and her creamy skin, her nipples would be pink, he decided, not brown.
"They say spring is near." She gathered her long hair over her shoulder and began to braid it. "My lord, may I be bold?"
"I would not have you be anything else, my lady."
"My sister does favor you, she's simply too shy to show it. Once you become more familiar to her, you'll see."
Jaime had no wish to marry any woman save for his twin whom he could not marry. But he especially had no wish to marry a mouse. "I imagine we'll have our whole lives for her to become familiar with me if our fathers have their way."
"Are you displeased with her?" She no longer sounded friendly.
"She would not be my choice for a wife."
"Is there someone you've given your heart to?" Her tone was neutral, but she looked sympathetic.
"No," Jaime lied. iIt was never mine to give. Cersei seized it from the moment I followed her out of our mother's womb./i "But I would prefer someone bolder."
Catelyn did not say anything in response, but she was looking at him. She was very lovely indeed in the moonlight, and Jaime was sure she was attracted to him, too. He unraveled her braid and arranged her hair over her shoulders like a shawl. "Someone like you," he whispered. Then he kissed her.
She kissed him back for one sweet moment, then she drew away and pushed him from her. "You must never do that again. You are to marry my sister, and I am betrothed."
"Betrothals can be broken," Jaime said, "And my lord father would care not which river maid I married."
"I am not so dishonorable that I would spurn Brandon when he has given me no cause to break our betrothal," Catelyn replied hotly.
Her unspoken implication that Jaime was dishonorable stung more than he expected. But at least she had not slapped him. Cersei would slap him if he displeased her so. He should apologize, but he would not be sincere.
"Let us return to the feast." She started back the way they'd came, and Jaime knew she would never permit herself to be alone with him again. It really was a pity the Starks had gotten to her first.
"Very well, my lady." He followed her, admiring the subtle sway of her hips. A pity indeed.