Jaime stood away from the others, the smell of the suckling pig made his stomach growl. As Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, he wasn't allowed to eat with his family at formal dinners when it was his duty to protect the king. He watched as they sat around the small but formidable dining table carrying on various conversations. Joffrey was seated at the head of the table and Aero had the honor of sitting opposite him. I'm sure she did think it was an honor to be away from the lecher. Cersei must have thought it would be a slight to sit the queen with Tyrion on her right and Loras on her left, but she looked as though she wasn't offended in the least. She and Tyrion were discussing Eryatheian wines and ales.
Throughout, it seemed Aero was happier sitting with his dwarf brother, laughing at what was sure to be some sarcastic quip or obscene witticism. She spoke kindly to Sansa who was seated at Tyrion's right, and shamelessly flirted with Loras. Young Tommen created a buffer between Cersei and Loras. He would lean in from time to time, asking questions about the types of animals Eryatheia had and expressing his fondness for cats. "We have cats as well," she told him. "Giant, fat cats that like to roam around the castle and chase the birds!" He giggled delightedly.
Lord Tywin had taken the seat to Joffrey's right, next to his daughter. Cersei sat quietly, being talked at by Mace Tyrell sitting across from her. Mace Tyrell was one of the most insufferable bores in all of the Seven Kingdoms and while Cersei smiled politely, Jaime could tell his sister was brooding—not that she tried all that hard to hide it. She ignored the slices of pork on her plate and instead held up her glass for the servants to bring her more wine. She sat back in her chair drinking from the silver chalice and observed the people around her.
Jaime observed them as well. He took his duties more seriously now that he had lost his hand. He took his time looking over the party. Tyrion's face was red from wine, but his speech was still quick and clever. The always miserable Sansa pushed the food around on her plate, but did look up at the young queen from time to time. Aero made sure to include her in conversations. Mace Tyrell sat at Sansa's right and his great bulk caused him to dribble soup onto his expensive silk tunic. Margaery was speaking with Joffrey and Tywin about the tournaments that the crown would be hosting leading up to the wedding. Joffrey promised his wife-to-be that there would be a great deal of bloodshed. At Tywin's right, Cersei fussed with Tommen's hair and Tommen was attempting to push her hand away. Loras Tyrell was a privileged young lord that sought glory for his name and cared about little else. But at the moment, he had caught the attention of the young queen with a thrilling tale about how he had his first kill at a sword tourney. Jaime wondered if Aero would share the story of her first kill with the proud young knight as she had with him.
Moving a step to the right gave Jaime a clear view of Aero. The desserts were now being served and as one of the servants cleared her main course to set down a plate of rich berry pies, she smiled up at the boy and thanked him. Never having been thanked a day in his life, the boy sucked in his breath and nodded with wide eyes at the queen. It was small things like this that made Jaime watch her. Loras had taken him aside when they had all gotten back to the keep and told him everything—from how many men Aero had on her ship, her close relationship with the boy Loras called Evann, carrying her own chests, to healing one of Littlefinger's whores. The Tyrell had gone back and forth about how the girl had actually been healed, but one phrase resounded in Jaime's head. "It was like magic," Loras had said.
When Jaime asked Varys about the Eryatheian queen, Varys had told him much the same thing as Loras had. Varys briefed them before the queen had arrived. "She is a force," he had said. Varys gave them details like her beauty, her family, and her proficiency with a sword. Jaime's eyes narrowed as he remembered her recalling her first kill. The lords of Westeros mocked her, believing that her sword was just for show. He suspected that should she raise her sword against them, they would be unable to change their mind as they would no longer have a head. The thought amused him greatly.
Varys hadn't mentioned that Aero traveled without a Queensguard. And when Cersei had asked for more information, Varys sighed and said that many of the traders he talked to were more than a little tight lipped when it came to the Eryatheian queen. Even when bribed. "But there's one more thing," Varys had announced. "According to the few sources I have been able to gather, they all say that there is a buzz in Eryatheia about the queen being able to use magic." Cersei naturally laughed it off. She dismissed it as propaganda and refused to entertain the idea.
But even so… Jaime wondered. Being blessed by a phoenix has never been heard of in Westeros. Perhaps it could be true. The traders he had questioned certainly believed it. He watched Aero cut the pie with her fork and take a bite, reveling in its sweetness. Her bright eyes were always searching. Always inquisitive. She had a small, straight nose and a small mouth. He caught himself staring at her lips—her cupid's bow arched perfectly and her bottom lip plumped slightly larger than the top lip. He looked away quickly before someone saw that he was staring. His gaze flitted over to where Cersei was frowning at him. It would seem that his staring hadn't gone completely unnoticed.
"King Joffrey!" Aero pushed back from the table and stood. "Your family has been most welcoming, and I would very much like to repay that kindness." Joffrey sat back in his chair and looked on as Aero pulled a black chest roughly the size of a small cask from where she had tucked it under the table at her feet. It thunked softly against the tablecloth when she set it down. Jaime had to admit he was curious as the others that sat upright in their seats to get a better look. From his position, Jaime could see swaths of fabric resting inside the black velvet lined chest.
"I have gifts," she proclaimed, opening the lid.
"Gifts?" Joffrey asked. He leaned forward in his seat. The chest was formidable, but rather small to hold anything that he might find interesting. "From your homeland?"
Aero smiled at Joffrey as one would smile at a child asking too many annoying questions. "Some are. Some are not."
"The first is for Lord Mace Tyrell." Aero pulled from the black box a small ball of golden fabric. "I believe you met my father years ago, Lord Mace."
Lord Tyrell nodded and laughed so that his belly shook in front of him. "I did. Nice fellow. Terrible card player."
"He says much the same about you," Aero laughed politely. "You lost something in a bet with my father." Aero rounded the table and unwrapped the gold fabric to present to the man a rather large signet ring made of gold. It was clearly very old and very valuable with a single golden rose on its face.
Lord Mace stared at it and took it from her gently. He slid the large ring easily onto his equally large finger and held it out in front of him. "This belonged to Harlen Tyrell, the first Tyrell Lord of Highgarden." He looked up at Aero. "Your father won it from me in a very poor bet on my part. Thank you." Aero nodded and returned to the chest as Lord Mace adoringly twisted his ring around his finger so that the gold would catch the firelight.
Aero held a solemn expression as she picked up the next fabric covered gift. She went left this time and planted what appeared to be something heavy wrapped in thick scarlet fabrics in front of Jaime's father.
"For The Hand, Tywin Lannister." Jaime could now see that the fabric she was unfolding in front of his father was actually an old scarlet cloak, ragged with age and wear. Folded inside of it were the remnants of a shattered sword and a large golden hilt encrusted with rubies and engraved with snarling lions.
"In our histories, it is written that the Grey Lion and his company of four hundred men entered Eryatheia with the intention of trading. When they arrived in port, they drew their swords and attempted to take the city by surprise. They were unsuccessful." Aero stopped to take a breath and Tywin looked up at her with emotionless eyes. "When our ancestors met in the streets of Cylix, there was a mighty clash. The Grey Lion was overtaken by my great-great-grandfather, Dorian the Vanquisher. The lion's sword, Sharp Tooth, was shattered. Though his plan failed, he fought with honor, and to my people, there is no greater quality. His life was spared, but his cloak and his broken sword were taken from him. In friendship, I present to you the broken sword and cloak of your great-grandfather Damon Lannister, the Grey Lion."
Tywin took a moment to look down at the broken sword in front of him. He ran a finger over one of the shards and pulled back when it sliced his finger. It was still sharp. Never being one to show emotion unless it was anger, Tywin merely nodded and thanked Aero for her gift. She nodded in return knowing that this was the most lively reaction she would get from the Lannister.
"For Cersei Lannister, Queen Dowager," Aero continued. "I explained earlier to Ser Loras and Lady Margaery that it is customary for Eryatheian rulers to learn a trade. Because I trained in weaponry like my brothers, I developed an interest in metalworks. The strength needed to forge blades and the care and patience involved in the making of delicate jewelry intrigued me. "
From the box, Aero pulled a small swath of black satin no bigger than the palm of her hand. "I give to you a necklace of my own design and make." She presented the wrapped gift to Cersei with an open hand and the Queen Dowager took it, face as emotionless as her father's. Cersei unfolded the fabric to find a necklace composed of thin wisps of gold designed to look like vines woven in and out in a pattern no more than two fingers wide. It started out thin and swelled gracefully just where the necklace would hit the collarbone and culminated in a deep V formation that featured a single emerald held in place with what looked like two lions paws on either side. It was the most beautiful thing Cersei had ever seen and while she had many beautiful things, it angered her that something she would value was given to her by someone she hated. It made her hate the young queen even more.
Cersei had learned how to fake a smile before she had learned to walk. "It is very beautiful. Thank you." Like Tywin, Aero knew that she should not expect a reaction from Cersei, but it gave her a smug sense of satisfaction to see the woman's brief expression of power-lust and greed at opening the necklace. That would have to do.
"For the future queen, Margaery." Aero smiled genuinely at the young Lady Tyrell. She did not trust the young woman, but her company was never boring. "I knew from a very young age that women are not merely for decoration. I learned to fight, ride, and use a sword the same as my brothers." Aero pulled from the chest a thin object wrapped in light blue fabric embroidered with golden flowers to give to Margaery. Margaery pulled the fabric back to reveal a slim dagger. Small. Delicate. Dangerous. The shallow rounded hilt was made with chords of yellow and white gold intertwining softly just big enough to fit the palm of a woman's hand. The sheath was solid white with vines of yellow gold heavy where the hilt met the sheath became less as they extended down the casing. Margaery pulled the hilt away from the sheath to examine the blade. The blade, was steel the color of milk and so smooth it looked like porcelain.
"I made this dagger special," Aero explained. "Spells are inlaid into the steel to make it so that it is unbreakable and will never need sharpening. The coloring is an unexpected result from the spelling process, but a welcome mistake. Knowing your kindness, the sheath also holds special healing properties. If you fill the sheath with water and pour it over any nonfatal wound, it will heal the cut."
Margaery looked up at the young queen with an expression of wonderment. Never by her knowledge had anyone been given a magical gift in Westeros. And if there were any, they were hidden away to be kept safe. "You have spell casters in your kingdom?" The Lady asked.
Aero smiled slightly as she returned to the chest. "Only one, my lady."
She looked to her right to see Lord Tyrion, stunted in his seat next to his tall wife. He seemed not to notice or care that the servants always moved his glass farther away from him when they refilled his wine. Aero supposed it must be a game they play to keep themselves amused.
"For you," Aero smiled at the dwarf. She pulled a large bunch of black woolen fabric from the bottom of the chest and handed it to Tyrion who weighted it in his hands.
"Is it another dagger?" he asked, still sharp and clever despite his many cups of wine. "I do so love daggers! Oh, tell me it's not a book." He made a sour face that made Aero laugh and throw her head back.
"I'm afraid it is not a book or a dagger," she chuckled. "Though, I could make a dagger for you, if it pleases you."
"No, young queen, I thank you. If I were in need of a dagger, I would only need to pull one from my back." He lifted his wine and emptied the glass.
Aero smirked. "With that tongue of yours, I'm surprised you hadn't been killed long ago."
"Not for lack of trying. For a man so slow, I'm not as easily killed as you would expect."
"Perhaps you haven't insulted the right people. When you do, I hope you find this useful." Aero took the fabric from his hands and in a swift motion, unfurled it, and handed it back to Tyrion to examine.
As a servant came to fill Tyrion's wine glass, she noticed that again the servant placed it just out of Tyrion's reach. Aero reached across the table and pushed it back within reach, making sure to hold eye contact with the servant as she did so. Frightened, the serving girl ducked her head and went back to stand at the wall with the others. It was an act that went unnoticed by Tyrion, but fully noticed by the others in the room. Aero was doubtful anyone else had even suspected the servants' game with Tyrion before now. Such a man did not deserve such a pernicious sister and indifferent father, Aero thought.
"Does it make me invisible?" Tyrion asked, still very much unaware that anything unusual had transpired. "I'd love to see that. Or would I be unable to see myself?"
"Not invisible. More like…" Aero paused a moment to consider her choice of words. "Imperceptible. When you don this cloak, you will still be visible, but people's glances will wander over you without recognizing what they have seen, even if they are looking for you. I'm told that it's one of the more interesting spells to have been placed on an object."
"You don't say…" Tyrion ran a hand over the soft fabric. The queen had given him a gift more precious than all the gold in the Seven Kingdoms.
"A cloak that you can hide in, uncle! Truly a great gift for a coward! A funny joke, indeed, Aero. Well done!" Joffrey laughed cruelly.
Aero ignored Joffrey and studied the dwarf with his mismatched eyes. She knew a secret that could save him.
"Tell me, uncle, is the cloak cut short so that you won't be tripping over the hem? Go on, put it on! Let's see if the tailors got the length right!" He laughed again and finished his wine, snapping at one of the servants for more.
Joffrey's cruel remarks sickened her to her very core. She had never known a family to be so broken as the Lannisters. "I have another gift for you, Lord Tyrion." She bent down to lean in close to his ear and whispered so that no others could hear. "Tywin Lannister is not your father."
Tyrion stared at her in disbelief. It was something he had wished in his deepest of hearts, but something he dare not believed. He was a Lannister, though his father never treated him as such. Wasn't he?
Aero leaned back and nodded, reaffirming what she said was true. "On the honor of my house, I swear that what I say is true."
In that moment, he trusted her. Somehow, he could feel the truth emanating from her and he just knew that she was real. A rush of emotions ran through Tyrion and a sob escaped from his mouth before he could think better of it. It was a sob of relief and joy. Tyrion leaned back and breathed an audible sigh of relief and blinked back tears before he composed himself. The young queen's face that had been set in seriousness broke into a smile. He was wrong. This gift was, to him, worth more than all the gold in the world. He smiled to himself, the weight of his father's disappointment that he had carried for so long lifted from him as if he had lived his entire life in the dark and was suddenly shown the light.
"Sansa Stark." Aero's attention turned from Tyrion to the auburn haired beauty next to him. Still a girl, Sansa had been caught up in this world of deceit and lies for far too long. Aero opened the small swath of grey wool she pulled from the black chest and held up a simple silver chain that held a single teardrop diamond pendant.
Cersei smirked noting that it was far less exquisite than her own. The eldest Stark daughter looked almost broken, Aero thought. So many broken people to keep a kingdom together. Sansa wore her courtesies like armor. She was ever the definition of a lady. And she deserved so much more. "It is not as elegant as Cersei's, but it is not meant to be." Aero rounded behind Sansa to drape the necklace over her head. Sansa pulled her long coppery hair to the side to allow Aero to fasten the clasp at the nape of her neck.
"It's beautiful, Your Grace. I will cherish it always." Sansa politely accepted the gift as a lady would. Sansa felt a pulse of heat radiate from where the stone rested over her heart, but it faded just as quickly as it began.
Aero took one of Sansa's hands in hers and knelt beside her. "I want you to understand, Sansa. It is silver. Not gold. Not even white gold. You are a Stark. Gold fades in the Northern sun, but silver shines bright. Gold is malleable and easily bent, scratched, and destroyed, but silver is strong and it will hold tight long after gold has been reforged into something new. And just as Margaery's dagger has special properties, so does your necklace. As long as you are wearing it, you cannot be harmed."
Sansa looked down at her necklace and back up at Aero, confused. "Cannot be harmed? How?"
Aero ran her fingers through Sansa's beautiful hair wishing she could do more for the girl. "The necklace is charmed with wards that protect you. If someone seeks to strike you with a sword, the blow will glance away. An arrow will never hit you. The strongest poison will not harm you. It will not, unfortunately, protect you from emotional cruelty." Aero had to use all of her will power to keep from glancing at Joffrey as she explained. "But as long as you wear this, no person can physically harm you."
"The necklace also cannot be taken from you or broken," she continued. "You may chose to take it off, but the necklace can feel your emotions and it will not allow you to remove it if you are scared, anxious, or forced in any way."
"Pardon me, Your Grace, but how can a necklace feel?" Sansa pulled the silver away from her neck, letting the thin silver chain slither between her fingers.
Aero pulled at the teardrop diamond to show Sansa. "It is the diamond that feels. It has energy in it the same as a heartbeat. The magic that goes into creating the wards to keep you safe gives it life."
"And what do you have for the king?" asked Joffrey, growing impatient.
Aero stood and pressed a kiss to the top of Sansa's copper hair resisting the urge to sigh at Joffrey.
"To you, King Joffrey, I give a wish." She approached Joffrey at the head of the table without first reaching into the chest where the rest of the gifts had been retrieved. He looked at her curiously as she held up her left hand and pulled a single golden band lined with black onyx stones from her center finger.
"A wish?" he asked suspiciously as he extended his arm to take the ring she offered. He inspected it, turning it over in his fingers. It looked like a normal ring to him.
She nodded. "A wish. Any wish. As long it is made with pure intentions, the ring will grant you any single wish."
"What do you mean by pure intentions?"
"I mean that magic was not created or given to humans from a desire to do bad things. In order for the ring to work, the wish you make must be out of a desire to do good. If you make a wish out of vengeance or with selfish intentions, the ring will disintegrate and fall off. And bear in mind, you only have one wish. If you carry this ring your entire life, it can only be used once."
"One wish. Anything I choose? I will think on this. Your gift is greatly appreciated. I thank you, Queen Aero. Truly, you are generous and kind." In that moment, just for a moment, it was easy to forget that Joffrey was a monster—how manners and civility can hide someone's true self. It was a lesson Aero was still learning.
"And Tommen, not to be left out." She turned to Cersei's youngest child and he gave her a toothy smile. He hoped he would also get a present, but didn't want to seem greedy. She pulled a second ring from her finger—an unadorned golden band and placed it in his open palm.
"Do I get a wish, too?" he asked, turning it over in his fingers.
Aero knelt down in front of him to take the ring and slide it onto his middle finger. She smiled sweetly at him thinking just how unlike his brother he was. "Actually, this ring is very different. It lets you know when someone is lying to you. Like…" Aero scrunched up her nose trying to think of a lie. "I have a blue baboon for a pet at home in Cylix."
Tommen looked down at the ring, surprised. "It turned cold!"
Aero laughed at his surprise. "That's what it's supposed to do. I lied. I don't actually have blue baboon. And now for a truth. When I was your age, I would put pepper spices in my brothers' dinner and pretend that they were lying when they said their food was too hot." Tommen laughed and held up his hand.
"It's warm now," he said excitedly.
"Cold if someone is lying to you and warm if they are telling the truth. I know it's not nearly as interesting as a dagger or a wishing ring, but you will have plenty of people that will try to lie to you as you grow older. There will be others that try to take advantage of you. Don't let them." Aero winked at him and stood up to close the now empty chest.
Jaime was slightly disappointed that she had closed the chest without a gift for him. He hadn't expected anything. But he had hoped that she had thought enough of him to give him a gift as well. Not that she should, truthfully. They had only just met for the first time that day and his first conversation with her was merely two hours ago. There's no reason that she should have thought of him before she left Eryatheia. Though he did find a little satisfaction in the knowledge that such an insatiable flirt as Ser Loras hadn't received a gift either.
"Ser Loras, I would give something to you as well," Aero expressed to the young Lord.
Well, damn, Jaime thought.
"Me, Your Grace?" Ser Loras asked with false astonishment. Then he saw the way she narrowed her eyes at his use of 'Your Grace' and he quickly corrected himself. "Aero. Sorry."
Aero crossed her arms below her breasts and leaned casually against the edge of the table. "Future goodbrother to the king, you have no need for pretty baubles or deadly blades as I hear you are one of the best fighters in the Seven Kingdoms. You have the finest armor money can buy. And as handsome as any man I have seen."
Jaime rolled his eyes and Loras had enough decency to blush. "That is very kind of you to say."
"You don't value things. You value glory," Aero went on. "What can I give you that a lord of Highgarden cannot obtain for himself? If you were to ask anything of me, anything at all, what would it be?"
Ser Loras narrowed his eyebrows in concentration, thinking. "Nothing," he finally decided on.
"Nothing?" she asked, doubtfully.
Ser Loras gave her a smirk that seemed to come standard in Highgarden. "Nothing but your friendship."
She laughed. "You have my friendship, Ser Loras." Like his sister, Aero didn't fully trust Ser Loras. But his company was never without amusement.
"Then, perhaps a kiss?" he suggested. Loras dipped his head only to look back at the young queen, seduction dancing in his eyes. "If a simple lord of Highgarden were to request a kiss from the Queen of Eryatheia?"
She laughed again. "Perhaps. We shall see."
Resigned to being forgotten and half disgusted with Ser Loras, Jaime looked away. Watching the young knight flirt with every woman he met grew tiresome much too quickly. Jaime thought that Loras might have had the good sense to hold his tongue in the presence of the visiting queen, but it seems that was being too hopeful.
"Ser Jaime, it would humor me if you told me what they say about me in Westeros." Aero's voice brought him out of his thoughts and back into the small dining hall.
"Your Grace?" he asked, unsure.
She shrugged and pushed away from where she was leaning on the edge of the table. She shifted her weight to one hip and crossed her arms underneath her breasts again. "Good or bad, I'm not particularly picky."
Jaime scoured his memory for anything more that he could remember Varys saying. It was difficult when he paid so little attention to the spider. He shifted his stance to match hers and rested his good hand on his sword out of habit. "They call you The Phoenix Queen," he began. "The men of Westeros find it unnerving that you wear trousers. You are fair ruler and wildly kind to your people. And they say your kindness is only matched by your skill with a blade. The people of Westeros dismiss the idea as propaganda, however. Ladies in The Seven Kingdoms do not usually learn to use weapons." The side of Jaime's mouth twitched up in a smirk recalling his earlier daydream of Aero cutting of the lords' heads.
"And?"
He thought of some of the more outlandish rumors that he had heard in the taverns. Shifty-eyed men deep in their cups would look this way and that and whisper about the queen as if she might overhear them. "The traders say you can sprout wings and often fly about shooting fireballs at those who oppose you. A most fearsome thing to behold."
"Truly?" she chuckled, amused.
"They say you can create fire with a wave of your hand. That you can do magic. That you are magic. Ser Loras believes you healed a whore with a kiss. And then your gifts…" Jaime's sentence trailed away.
She nodded, slowly, looking at the floor. "Do you believe I am magic, Ser Jaime?
"I wouldn't know, Your Grace," he evaded.
Aero took a moment to look him over, eyes lingering on his golden hand before returning to his face. She held his gaze without blinking. "Will you approach me, Jaime Lannister?"
Jaime looked to his father and King Joffrey, both very interested in what was happening. Under normal circumstances, it would be inappropriate to abandon his post to involve himself in any events while he was supposed to be protecting the king. Tywin gave a nod for Jaime to do as the queen had requested and Jaime moved hesitantly toward her, his white cloak swishing silently behind him.
He stood in front of her and noticed, not for the first time, how truly blue her eyes were. Like a cloudless sky just before the sun begins to set. She reached out to him, pulling at his golden hand, holding it up and examining it. At first, Jaime tried to pull away, ashamed at being so broken. But he relented and held it out for her to examine. She ran her fingers over the intricate designs cast in the metal until her fingers were tugging and unknotting the buckles that strapped the heavy metal hand to his forearm.
His stomach clenched when she detached the prosthetic from his arm and laid it aside on the table. Shame filled him when she unwound the wrappings from the stump at his wrist. The ugly scar was still puckered and red where Vargo Hoat had it cut off. He was stupid and reckless. And it had cost him dearly. He didn't bat an eye at seeing Vargo's decaying head when he returned to Harrenhal. Even so, he flinched when the queen ran her fingers across the horrid line of skin that had been poorly stitched together where his wrist should be.
Aero felt pity for the crippled knight, though she would deny it if he ever asked. It would dishonor him to be pitied. And a knight without his sword hand was no knight at all. She tugged at his arm and led him farther away from the table into an open space near a candle stand. He allowed himself to be pulled by her, too deep into whatever she was planning to back away now.
She took the stump of his arm in both of her hands, her palms warm on his skin. "I am magic, Ser Jaime," she confessed as she looked up at him through her dark lashes. "This is my gift to you."
The fires and candles in the dining hall suddenly went dark. A sense of calm enveloped Jaime, though, in the back of his mind, he knew he should be frightened. He looked down to find that Aero's palms were glowing gold around the stump of his arm. A swirling, shimmering mist twinkling with light appeared to hover around connection. It lit her face as a candle would until the mist grew bigger and brighter, surrounding them both. Jaime looked around in wonder at the dancing lights. For a moment he considered that he had gone mad—until the pain. Until the horrible, searing pain that itched and burned at his stump of a hand.
The lighted mist began to swirl around them faster. Faster than a breeze. Faster than fierce storm. He cried out in pain and watched Aero's black curls dance around her head, gathered in the air by the force of the wind she created. While the light reflected in the fire opals in her golden circlet making the stones appear to smolder amongst the yellow gold. The lights of the mist began to collect at his stump in a glowing frenzy until the outline of a hand had formed between hers. The pain was almost unbearable. Much worse than having the hand cut off. The itching was the worst. He tried again to pull away from Aero but found that he was still unable to move. In a flash, a blinding force of light shone in all directions, emanating from Jaime's hand. The people looking on turned away, temporarily blinded. And just as sudden, the hall went dark again. The fires returned and slowly everyone regained their sight as their eyes readjusted.
Cersei was the first to speak. "Jaime! Jaime! Are you harmed?"
Jaime could not answer. He stared speechlessly at his hand. His new hand that had grown as if by magic. It was magic, he reminded himself though he still couldn't quite believe it. "By the Gods!" he exclaimed when his voice finally found him.
Cersei was by his side the instant she could see. She, too, stared at his new hand. She took it in hers, not believing it to be real. But it was. She felt him flex and bunch his hand, testing the dexterity as the others looked on in shock and awe.
"How is this possible?" he breathed, his voice heavy with disbelief.
For the first time since the blinding flash, he tore his eyes away from his restored hand to look at the woman who had given him this gift. Aero gave him a sad smile and swayed, slightly as if she were drunk. Her eyes glossed over and as she was reaching for something to hold herself up, her legs collapsed underneath her. Jaime caught her just before she hit the floor, hauling her into his arms.
"Water," she begged as Jaime placed her in her chair. Her cheeks were flushed and sweat was beading on her forehead.
The servant she had thanked earlier was already at his side with a cup of water before Aero had asked for it. Jaime took the cup from the boy and pressed it into Aero's hands. She downed the cup in two gulps.
"I'm fine," she breathed when she had swallowed the last gulp. "I'm fine."
"Another. Please," Jaime demanded handing the cup back to the servant boy. Another servant refilled it from a water pitcher and the boy handed it back to Jaime. Jaime forced the cup into Aero's hands again. Cersei stood back, hands covering her mouth. She had thought nothing could shock her, jaded as she was. She was wrong.
"Thank you," Aero nodded and drank again, this time slower. Margaery was in front of her now, kneeling at the young queen's knees and pressing a cold cloth to her forehead.
"Would you like to retire to your chambers, Your Grace?" Margaery asked, concerned.
"Yes, I think I would." Aero nodded her head, laughing lightly. "I assure you, I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting something so small to take so much energy. I neglected to consider that I was creating something living out of nothing."
Tywin Lannister had drawn his sword when the fires had gone out. He stood, eyes narrowed at the scene, sword still in his hand. The father in him was grateful that his only son—the only son that could carry a sword—had his hand back. Jaime was mostly useless without it. However, the Hand of the King saw a problem. This woman professed friendship. She smiled. She said the right things. She had given gifts to his family. Though, in his case, he felt that the shattered sword was more of a warning than a gift. He knew very well what had happened the last time his family crossed the Sunset Sea. 402 men left Lannisport. Ten men returned. It was a fool's endeavor, to be honest. A host of the most skilled swordsmen in the kingdoms could not take the city of Cylix with 400 men. The Eryatheians slaughtered 392 Lannister men. And Lannister's always pay their debts. What debt would be owed to the Phoenix Queen if she decided that she required payment for Jaime's hand?
Jaime helped Aero return to her chambers, refusing to allow anyone else to do it. Aero was silent most of the walk and he could see that she was more exhausted than she let on. More than once, they had to stop so that she could catch her breath. He pretended not to notice. For a second—for one blindingly blissful second when her energy surged through him and his hand became real, he felt her soul touch his. He had never believed in souls before. When Cersei chattered on about how she and him were soulmates, he would roll his eyes. He still wasn't so naïve as to believe that soulmates existed, but he knew that he had a soul. And that was enough for now.
Later he would ask her if she had felt it, too. Because it was an intimate feeling, touching another's soul. He didn't know what his own felt like, but hers felt like a warm breeze in winter—like the sun shining on your face and watching the flowers and trees begin to bud in the springtime. Does she know? he wondered as they reached her door.
"I can't- I can't come up with the words to thank you," he stuttered, flexing his fingers again and watching the tendons move at the back of his hand. "Words feel so meaningless right now. I hope you'll forgive me."
Aero pushed the heavy wooden door open and stepped into the entryway. She stopped just inside the door and turned to face him. "Would you ask me what gift you could give me?"
"Anything I can give is yours," he swore, dumbstruck that she could want anything from him.
She took his new hand in hers, testing the weight and brushing her fingers over his knuckles and down the joints of his fingers. "You owe me nothing. What I have given you is a second chance to become the man you should have been before the people of King's Landing whispered Kingslayer at your back instead of thanking you for saving them all. Be the light in the darkness, Jaime Lannister. Find what makes you want to be a better person and live the rest of your days fighting for what is good instead of what is commanded."
She let go of his hand and turned away, looking back only once to say goodnight before she closed the door behind her. "Goodnight, Queen Aero," he answered at her closed door in the dimly lit hallway. She heard his heavy footsteps as he walked away, presumably to his own chambers, wherever they may be.
A cool wind swept in from the open balcony that overlooked Blackwater Bay. She stepped out into the night air and pulled her arms tighter around her. In the distance, she could see a single ship out in water of the bay and knew that it was her ship, Serenity. Evann had promised her that he would leave a candle burning in his window. She saw the small light, even from the top of the castle tower and it made her feel warmer somehow.
It was a cold land, Westeros, not just in temperature, but the people also felt cold and aloof. The moonless night enveloped the land and the stars shone bright above her. These were the nights her mother lived for. Her heart gave a small heave as she remembered how her mother would sneak into her room late and pull her out of bed. They would climb to the tallest tower in the Shimmering Stone and lie down, heads together, to watch the stars pass over them.
Aero fixed eyes on the constellation of a winged-woman her mother always called the Valkyrie. The Valkyrie was a legend of her mother's people in the North of Eryatheia. She said that in the ancient days, the woman, Freyja, was given wings and chosen by the gods to protect the people of Eryatheia. She lived for many hundreds of years, eventually falling in love with a mortal man. She loved him so much that when he fell in battle, she let out such a wail of sorrow that it could be heard across the Sunset Sea. So enraged she was, that she slaughtered her enemies leaving none left alive. She found him, his lungs too full with blood to breathe. He had just enough strength left to wipe away the tear running down her cheek before his body went limp and he died in her arms. She was so overcome with grief, she prayed to the gods to take her life so that he might live. Instead of granting her wish, the gods raised them both up to the sky, immortal, living together among the stars with the constellation of the Lover forever next to the Valkyrie.
Aero found the star she was looking for, a red light at the center of the Valkyrie that her mother said was Freyja's heart.
"Mother," she called softly into the night air as she had done every night since she was seven. "I made it. I'm in Westeros. It's exciting to be out of Eryatheia, but now that I'm gone, I worry that I made the wrong choice. The people here… their hearts are frozen. Their eyes are either trying to intimidate me or telling me to run. The king is a vile, cruel boy and his mother is callous and calculating. But I healed two people today. One was a young girl that had been beaten, and the other was the king's uncle." Her mind drifted away for just long enough for her body to remind her how exhausted she was.
She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the balcony railing. "Evann is here with me. I can tell that he doesn't enjoy being here, though he tries to hide it for my sake. He's worried something is going to happen to me and he won't be there to protect me. I know father and the three idiots you birthed before me worry, too. But you don't need to worry about me. Watch over father and my brothers. I love you."
Aero took her time disrobing and pulling on her night clothes, the stiffness in her muscles causing her to wince. In the morning, she would ask someone to help her bring up water so she could take a proper bath. She twisted her long hair into braid over her shoulder and sank down into the soft feather mattress. She was asleep within minutes.
