A/N: Sorry this is a bit later than expected; my laptop BSOD'ed a few days ago and I'm still fixing and reinstalling everything.
Guest (idk who you are) - I have not deleted a single review. Not sure if you know how things work on this site, but guest reviews have to go through a process where the author has to expressly approve them before they're displayed. I neglected to do that for several days as I am a human and also have a life. You're welcome to discuss things with me, but that only can happen if you get an account on this site so I can message/reply to you - as long as you are polite and respectful, I'm happy to talk.
Final note: I've decided to age Myrcella up by 3 years. The show made me forget how young she was in book canon, so now I'm putting her at right between Arya and Sansa's age in this fic. Sorry about this; normally I hate to change things like that but it's necessary this time for aspects of this story to work.
JAIME III:
Shouting.
His Father was a fearsome man, even - especially? - to his own children. Yet throughout Jaime's life, he knew his father to possess a quiet grace. Tywin Lannister was the sort of man who could command a room with a subtle turn of the head, a piercing gaze, a single glare. He did not deign to raise his voice; he was fully capable of being terrifying without it. Which meant something must have happened.
A new voice began to yell back. A female voice.
Cersei. The uneasy feeling in his stomach sank even lower. What have you done now?
Jaime braced his courage. Regardless of what his sister had done to anger the Lannister patriarch, he would never leave her to face their father's wrath alone. Cersei, I'm coming for you.
The door to Tywin Lannister's study opened with a loud thud.
"Jaime," his father began in a careful tone, "were you aware of your sister's idiocy?"
I was right, Jaime thought. But instead of being reassured, he felt like someone had just stabbed him with a dull blade. Cersei, you told me nothing. Don't you trust me, sister?
"I have no idea what you mean, Father," he responded shakily, trying to keep his composure as best as he could. His response didn't seem to please the man in the slightest, but his father didn't seem to want to dwell.
"One of Robert's grown bastards had a rather unfortunate accident sometime last night that ended in his death," he spoke, glaring pointedly at his daughter. "A rather poorly arranged accident, that is."
Oh, Seven hells.
He had been a fool to think that him escorting Tommen would sufficiently placate his sister on being deprived of his son. No, Cersei had to get her revenge, and she did so in the most direct manner.
A son for a son.
But the question remained.
"Cersei, you never said anything," he croaked. "I thought we trusted each other." His sister turned around with an expression of what could be mild annoyance, or so Jaime perceived. But she looked at him, and her gaze seemed to soften.
"Plausible deniability," she said after a moment. "I needed you as uninvolved as possible," she explained. We'll discuss later was the unspoken message. Jaime sighed, but she had the right idea - not a smart plan to discuss emotionally wrought topics in front of Tywin Lannister.
"Has Robert been informed his son is dead?" he asked the two of them, changing the subject somewhat.
"He was told this morning," flippantly replied his sister.
This morning...of course. It all made sense. The severity of his cousins' beatings could only have come about with a particularly violent, particularly pissed Robert. And the death of a son would be enough for that, especially for someone as emotionally volatile as the oaf.
"Father, I need to speak with you," Jaime muttered, avoiding his sister with all his effort to avoid an outburst. Thankfully, his father seemed to understand the urgency.
"Cersei, you may leave," Father said in the tone of an order rather than a request. His sister didn't need to think twice as she dashed out of the room, but not before sending one last scathing glare at the Lannister patriarch. The door slammed as she walked out.
Tywin was unfazed.
"Sit, Jaime. I believe this matter is urgent?" he asked stiffly.
"Father, Cersei's actions may have caused more harm to our family than you know," Jaime began. His father let out something between a snort and a grunt.
"Her actions haven't caused harm to us that I know of, now that I am here to clean up her mess," he explained. "But it was utter foolishness and poorly planned. She should have been more patient and discreet."
"That is not of what I am speaking, Father," Jaime replied. "With Robert's drunken violence growing, I begin to fear for the safety of our cousins in his employ."
"Tyrek and Lancel?" Tywin raised an eyebrow.
"He beat them this morning until they bled - and beyond that," Jaime began. "Though he would often throw things at them or slap Lancel for his sharp tongue, he had never entered such a rage in their presence."
There was a pause as his father took in this information, his face remaining calm but for a single flicker in his eyes.
"Occasional beatings are necessary," he remarked, "but you said these boys were quite bloodied?"
"Indeed, Father, I believe the circumstances are dire enough to seek an alternate knight for them to squire for," Jaime responded firmly, not breaking his father's gaze. There was a pause of silence as Tywin Lannister presumed a specific expression that Jaime knew well to be one of pensiveness.
"Very well," he finally spoke. "The Stormlands we have, the Riverlands are not so stable, the Reach I have other plans for. Take your cousins on your trip north; I'll have a letter waiting for you at the Starks' castle with an assignment to some knight in the Vale."
Jaime sighed in relief that his cousins would be squired far away. That way I won't have to act as their parent anymore. But this did mean that his return trip would be delayed, and it would have to be more moons than he expected to go without seeing Cersei.
I must speak with her.
"Thank you Father, now I think I will go find our sister and get the details of the events from her," he told the man truthfully. It's not as if I could lie without getting caught. But the Lannister patriarch simply nodded and waved Jaime out of his study, already writing a letter to presumably a Vale knight.
Jaime didn't waste any time. He walked out of Tywin's study at a calm pace, but immediately sped up in the hall outside. It required no thought to twist and turn through the corridors, climb up and down the stairs, as he had taken this exact path so many thousands of times that he just let his unconscious lead his body. He was nearly there, just partway up the tower, just past the royal children's chambers…
"Uncle Jaime!"
Seven hells, what now? He spun around and sighed. A child's face looked up at him: all the long golden hair and flushed cheeks and sparkling green eyes of his niece.
"Myrcella, what is it?" he asked, trying to mask his annoyance but probably failing. Please don't ask me to find Tommen's cat again. If the previous time her younger brother's cat had run off was any indication, it would be several hours before he actually could see Cersei.
"Uncle Jaime, could you come help me find something under my bed please?" she asked. He looked at her quizzically. Don't you have maidservants to help you with that? Her glance was unwavering though, as she stared at him quite insistently. Jaime sighed and relented, walking in. This will only be a moment, and then I'll be off.
But when the two of them entered her chamber, Myrcella immediately shut the door, locking it. She whirled around and Jaime's breath caught in his throat as the expression on her face had grown somber, though no less determined.
This will not be only a moment...
"Uncle Jaime, I know you're taking Tommen away from here," she began, carefully choosing her words.
"Yes, what of it?" he asked impatiently. What am I getting into, he thought with a sense of dread.
"Take me with you."
Oh, Seven hells. Jaime let out a long breath.
"You know I can't do that," he replied, though his words didn't seem to surprise her in the least.
"Please," she implored, "You're taking Tommen - even Lancel and Tyrek - so there will be no one for me to play with. Even Uncle Tyrion is going, so there will be no one to talk to."
"You'll have your mother, and Joffrey," Jaime offered, though he knew the latter was poor excuse for company, even at the age of eleven.
"Joffrey frightens me," she whispered. "He kills Tommen's cats and he says mean things to us. Mother doesn't notice," she added. "Please Uncle Jaime, don't leave me with just Mother! She would be occupied with Joffrey."
"Myrcella, your mother loves you very much," Jaime began. "Now I know it's going to be hard for you not to have your playmates, but you need to be a good girl for your mother. She's going to miss Tommen very much."
Yet instead of placating his niece, his words seemed to have the opposite effect. Myrcella's face grew pinker, her face contorted into a mix of exasperation and anger.
"That's not fair! You're not understanding me, Uncle Jaime. Once all of you leave, no one will be there to keep Joffrey from being mean to me," she replied in frustrations, eyes beginning to swell with tears.
She looks like a young Cersei, Jaime thought, and when have I ever been able to refuse my sister?
He shook his head. Cersei was already miserable that Tommen was to leave - how would she feel if two of her three children were sent to the opposite end of the Seven Kingdoms?
"Myrcella, much as I'd like to, I cannot do that," he reiterated gently. "I don't want your mother to stop being upset."
"Why, so you can keep kissing her?"
What…
The air in his lungs seemed to freeze. He couldn't breathe. Every inch of his body began to shake as his knees gave out, crashing onto the floor.
How…
"I saw you once, you know, with Mother. I was crying because Joffrey ripped my dolls and I wanted Mother to hug me, but then I saw you kissing and...other stuff," Myrcella admitted. "Uncle, I'm not sad," she added quietly. "The King doesn't make her happy, but you do. I like it when she's happy."
She's not...I'm not…
I'm not a monster?
"You're...not?" he uttered these two words, leaving himself bare for his daughter to cast him down forever if she so chose.
"No, Father."
Father.
He had never been called that before. His nephews and niece were just that. They were Cersei's to raise…
Father.
Just that one word...that one word began a little voice that crept into his head.
I could have a child. A child that accepted him and all the darkness that came with it.
I have a chance…
"Alright," he choked. "Don't say anything, and let me leave before I change my mind," he added, bursting out of the door (which Myrcella had graciously unlocked immediately) and dashing into the corridor, mind reeling.
What have I done? Cersei's wrath will know no ends. He hoped, for their sakes, that no other acknowledged bastards of Robert's were in the city.
A cold feeling came over him. How was he to face Cersei now?
But I have to do it.
With steely resolve, he strode over to the door to Cersei's chamber, pushing it open before he could think to hesitate.
"Jaime!" she cried out, rising from her chair, her undone hair flying around to caress him. Dread gnawed at him upon seeing his sister's face - so expressive, so open. "I did it for revenge, for Tommen, you've got to-"
"I understand," Jaime muttered.
Lying to Cersei? I can't take this anymore.
He sealed his guilt and silence with a kiss.
A/N: Arghhh angst is so difficult. Jaime is so difficult! (At least, angsty Jaime is). But I really enjoy writing his POV and he's one of my 3 favorite characters in canon, so I'm really trying to do him justice. The Myrcella bit was kind of rough, I know.
Next POV is easier: back to Robb. (Then Sansa, then a new POV).
