Jaime
To Jaime there was no sound sweeter than two swords meeting. There was no sight as beautiful as sunlight gleaming off a sharpened blade. It made his blood boil and rush through his veins, while his vision tunneled. All he could think of was his next strike and his opponent.
Right, left, strike, back!
Jaime grinned, lifting his shield to block Addam's strike. "You're getting rusty, Addam," Jaime taunted, shoving his friend back.
Addam laughed whole heartedly. "Funny, I was just about to say the same to you!" He swung, aiming for Jaime's side but cursed when Jaime's blocked his blow. Roaring like a lion, Jaime thrust his shield forward, throwing Addam off his stance and leaving him open. Pulling his shield back, Jaime aimed for Addam's stomach only to be blocked by Addam's sword. They pushed against one another, the clashing metal hissing like an angry cat. Swinging his shield, Jaime swore as Addam stepped back. "Excited for your feast?" Addam asked as he adjusted his stance.
Casting aside his shield, Jaime took the offensive. "I can barely contain my excitement," Jaime dryly replied. "Hours of idle chatter with men the same age as my father. I can't think of a better way to spend an evening, really." They crossed swords once more, the metal clang making his blood sing. Jaime shoved Addam back and slashed at him horizontally.
"It won't be that bad," Addam said as he dodged Jaime's attack. "Lady Lydia will be there to assist you in entertaining your bannermen and, as luck would have it, the Gods have blessed your wife charm and wit. Something her husband severely lacks." Jaime rolled his eyes at his friend and swung at him again. Addam knocked Jaime's sword to the side, and took a step back.
"Watch your tongue Marbrand, or I really will kill you," Jaime jested, pointing at his friend with his sword.
"I'm shaking in my boots," Addam replied, laughing as his parlayed Jaime's attack. They traded blows for several more minutes before Addam called for a break. "I'm starting to think I'm getting to old for this," Addam said as he rolled his shoulder. He beckoned a page forward, and took the water skins from the young boy.
"Nonsense," Jaime replied as he took one of the skins. "You're only what? Fourty?"
"Ha ha. I'm half a year younger than you, but I assume you know this, old friend," Addam stated. "How have you been, Jaime? Surely being a member of the Kingsguard isn't like the songs."
"Not unless those songs praise how much we stand around," Jaime muttered. He took a gulp of water and peered up at the sky. A pair of hawks circled, screeching at one another. Perhaps I'll take of hawking, Jaime thought. He doubted he would do so. Animals never seemed to like him. "The Kingsguard was my choice; I do not regret choosing it no matter what my father insists. I will miss it." I will miss Cersei.
"And now you have a pretty wife to dot over. The Seven must smile upon you," Addam said with a smile.
"Addam, you've known me since boyhood. Have I ever been one to dot?" Jaime asked. He took another swig of his water skin. "And you can have her, since you're so enamored. Seven knows I never wanted this life."
"Our babes would be pretty," Addam remarked absentmindedly. "But I'm afraid the Lady Lydia would gut me if I even jokingly proposed an affair, followed quickly by your lord father beheading me. Frighteningly efficient, your lady wife is."
"Oh?"
"Word through the hall is that she's been up at the crack of dawn prepping for the feast tomorrow, and when she's not doing that she's been with the seneschal and steward memorizing all the lords and ladies names, along with their children."
Jaime grunted in acknowledgement. He believed Addam on Lydia being efficient. They had worked late into the night on the seating arrangements for the various lords, and she had worn that damn clinging robe throughout it. More than once he had considered taking his rights as her husband, but he couldn't do it. I love you, I love you, I love you, Cersei's voice echoed in his head. Instead he had focused on planning their feast, and by the hour of the owl they had planned most of it.
His father had approved, though he shuffled a few lords around before calling for his seneschal to see to his son's plans. Jaime had mentioned that Lydia had helped, to which his father responded "then she won't mind supervising," before dismissing him and returning to his work. That little command had left Jaime with a lot of free time. He occasionally stopped by the Golden Gallery to lend his assistance, but between Lydia and Seneschal Seyfert his 'assistance' was really a nuisance. He had then proceeded to spend his time in the training yard. "She is impressive. I would bet the King was hoping Ned Stark's daughter was a witless girl, so he could laugh as Lord Tywin had to accept an idiot as his good-daughter," Jaime said.
Addam grinned. "If she keeps doing what she's doing, Lord Tywin will be the one laughing."
"What a terrifying thought."
A thought that was becoming more and more realistic. Not many things impressed Jaime, but the sight of the Golden Gallery did. The elaborate gold design on the marble pillars was polished to an almost blinding shine, as was the cream marble floor. Numerous round tables were set up, with blood red tables cloths draped on top of them. Eight cream coloured chairs circled the tables, each with a golden coloured cushion. The numerous golden chandeliers that hung from the cove ceiling were lit with tall candles, and each one shone brightly. The curtains around the large windows that faced the sea, were pulled back, allowing the soon to arrive guests a view of the sun setting over the sea. Near the back musicians practiced their instruments.
Jaime whistled lowly, and glanced up at the ceiling to admire the gold and cream designs that lined the curve of the ceiling. "Would that mean you are impressed, my lord?" Lydia asked. Jaime felt his mouth go dry when he looked at Lydia. She wore a dress of the lightest purple that faded to white with long bell shaped sleeves. Light green vines and soft pink flowers decorated the bodice and a strip of cloth that sat in the middle of her dress. A hair band made from fresh water pearls was set perfectly in her hair, with a pair of dangling earrings to match. "My lord?" Lydia questioned, titling her hair slightly.
Jaime cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very plain in his vanilla coloured doublet and black breeches. "You look…clean," Jaime complimented. He cringed mentally. Clean? You can calm Cersei down from her rages but when it comes to complimenting, the best you can come up with is clean? Jaime scolded himself.
Lydia smiled and giggled. "You look clean yourself, my lord. Shall we join your father in the foyer to greet our guests?" Jaime nodded and held out his arm for his lady wife. She looped her arm around his and allowed him to lead her to the foyer. Heat and low conversation greeted them as they entered the foyer. Jaime saw his father quietly chatting with one of his bannermen, but as soon as their eyes met Lord Tywin excused himself and made his way over.
"Lady Lydia, you look lovely," Lord Tywin complimented.
"Thank you, my lord," Lydia replied with a smile.
His father nodded stiffly at Jaime's wife, then turned his attention on Jaime. "I will have them announce your presence, and then you will thank our bannermen for attending your feast. Understood?" His father questioned.
"Yes father."
"Good." His father turned to a man and nodded at him before stepping away.
"My lords and ladies!" The man announced. The numerous nobles quieted and turned their attention on Jaime and his lady wife. "May I present Ser Jaime Lannister and his wife, Lady Lydia, future Lord and Lady of the Westernlands."
The lord and ladies of the West clapped for the new couple, and Jaime resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yes, yes. Clap all you want, when all you really wanted was for the woman on my arm to be your daughter rather than Stark's. He glanced at Lydia, unsurprised to find her smiling prettily. "My lords and ladies," Jaime said. "I thank you for joining us today at my lady wife and I's celebration feast. It is a great honour to have so many loyal lords and ladies with us, so won't you please join my lady wife and I in the Golden Gallery for an evening of celebration?" Jaime smiled handsomely as the nobles clapped their approval. Now we begin a night of false pleasantries.
How Lydia convinced his father that a ten course meal was sufficient, Jaime would never know. In truth, he had imagined having to pick at twenty different meals but instead he managed to eat a decent portion of all his meals. Lord Tywin sat to his left, conversing lowly with Kevan. To his right, his lady wife sat with Addam to her right. The two were chatting quietly as well, leaving Jaime to his thoughts. There were six and ten noble houses in the Golden Gallery at the moment, which meant at minimum Jaime would have to converse with two and thirty different lords and their lady wives. Jaime glanced around the Gallery, taking note of which lords brought their heir and how many of them were of age with him. Ten heirs that are my age, and more that are not. Warrior give me strength, Jaime thought. He sighed and took a gulp of wine.
"It seems your husband would rather be somewhere else," Addam laughed.
"I believe you are correct, Addam," Lydia added.
"Addam? Since when did you two become so friendly?" Jaime asked, toying with the rim of his goblet. He turned towards the two, noting the smiles on their faces.
"Why, just now while you were brutally murdering your dessert," Addam replied. "You were missing out on such a delightful conversation. Really Lady Lydia," Addam leaned in towards Lydia, "you are wasted on such an ungrateful man." Jaime felt his eye twitch.
He was just about to retort, when Lydia's gentle laugh stopped him. "Why Ser Addam, if you feel so strongly about it, perhaps you should bring it up with my good-father," she said, smiling prettily. "I'm sure Lord Tywin would love to hear your explanation on why his son is not worthy of my hand." Jaime leaned against his hand and grinned at his old friend, who looked quite taken back.
Addam shocked expression soon turned into a grin, and he met Jaime's eyes. "I retract my earlier statement! The Lady Lydia is perfect for you!" He grabbed a goblet and held it high. "A toast to the future Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock!" Lydia smiled and held up her goblet before taking a small sip. Jaime smirked and took another gulp. He glanced at his lady wife, noting the way her red-gold hair fell into soft curls, just stopping at her waist. She sat tall and straight, and the way that her dress was cut emphasized her full bosom. Jaime forced himself to look away, not enjoying the feeling of arousal that shot through him. He placed his wine goblet down and beckoned for water.
"My lord, I believe it's time for us to address the nobles," Lydia whispered.
Jaime glanced at her, and nodded. "You should address them this time. Let them know that their future Lady will rule them as well as their future Lord," Jaime suggested.
"If that is what you wish." Jaime nodded and stood, making the murmur of their guests cease. "My lords and ladies," Lydia began. "I hope you found your meal satisfying, and my lord husband and I thank you once again for joining us tonight. Now I would ask you to join my lord husband and I on the ballroom floor for some dancing and mingling. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you." She smiled prettily as the nobles murmured their approval before taking Jaime's arm.
"Each and every one of them, hmm?" Jaime said.
"Formalities, dear husband. It would be rude of me to not commit a face to a name, now would it not?" Lydia stated. She released his arm and curtsied. Placing one hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand, she continued. "Not to mention, I need to know which lord or lady would find my untimely death utterly distressing." Jaime had to grin at the sarcastic tone she used. The music began, and he spun his lady wife around the dance floor. Soon other couples began to join them.
"Well, now that they know my father is not opposed to marrying me to someone half my age, I suppose many lords and ladies would find your untimely death, distressing," Jaime teased. Jaime raised an eyebrow as a small frown crossed Lydia's face. "What?"
"Does my age truly bother you?"
Jaime was taken back a moment. Did it? True she was half his age, but as far as the rest of society was concerned she was a woman grown. She certainly carried herself like a woman. Jaime stared at her. Unlike his sister there were no age lines, no worry lines or frown lines, just smooth unblemished skin. She had no stretch marks from pregnancy, she did not complain about aches or pains that only came from age. His lady wife acted like a woman of thirty but she was still six and ten, and barely out of girlhood in his eyes.
Jaime opened his mouth to respond, but the music ceased and Lydia stepped away from him. She gave him a small smile, and took his arm. "Shall we go greet our guests?"
"Strongboar seems to have taken quite the shinning to your wife," Addam commented as he sauntered over to Jaime's side. Jaime glanced at the dance for and sure enough, Ser Lyle Crakehall was twirling Lydia around the ballroom floor. The two seemed to be happy enough, with Strongboar's booming laughter echoing throughout the hall and Lydia smiling her pretty lady smile. "I'd be careful if I was you, I may tease at stealing your wife but Ser Lyle might actually do it." At that moment, Ser Lyle picked Lydia up by her waist to lift and twirl her, causing his lady wife to laugh joyously. "Perhaps you should go cut in."
"No need," Jaime stated, pointing to Lydia. Ser Lyle was smiling widely as he escorted Lydia from the dance floor. "But I will remind Ser Lyle who Lady Lydia's husband is." Addam chuckled and nodded, leaving to go find his father as Jaime made his way to his wife. "Enjoy your dance?" Jaime asked as he approached the pair.
"Ser Jaime!" Lyle Crakehall greeted, his voice booming. "I must know where you found such a beautiful, lively wife!"
Lydia smiled and blushed. "Ser Lyle, you flatter me!"
"I only speak the truth, my lady!"
"The North," Jaime cut in irritably. He put on his best smile and held out his arm for Lydia. She cocked an eyebrow but took his arm, not before thanking Ser Lyle for the dance. "My lady wife was born in the North and fostered in the South. Perhaps, Ser Lyle, there is another like her for you to wed."
"Would that be true, Ser Jaime, but I fear your wife is one of a kind," Ser Lyle bowed. "May I ask for another dance, my lady?"
"I would love to, Ser Lyle, but for now I must give my attention to my husband," Lydia replied. "I believe he would like to introduce me to more of his bannermen."
"Ah, formalities. I understand. I shall seek you out later then, my lady," Ser Lyle said. "Ser Jaime." He nodded sharply, and left.
"He was being friendly," Lydia said harshly when Ser Lyle was well enough away. "Ser Lyle is cut from the same cloth as Lord Umber and his son. He meant no harm."
Jaime looked down at her, and scowled. "You don't know that," Jaime declared. "For all you know his father is trying to ruin your reputation. Or perhaps you enjoyed the attention from such a lively man."
Lydia looked at him, her expression tight. "I thank you for your concern about my reputation," she said, stressing the word. "But I'll have you know I can fight my own battles, and as far as Ser Lyle goes," she turned away from him. "At least he seems interested in getting to know me."
Jaime's scowl deepened. "Lord Serrett has a daughter a year older then you," Jaime said through gritted teeth. "My father suggested that you befriend her."
"Very well, my lord," Lydia replied evenly, her face relaxing. Her ability to brush of his attempts at getting a real emotional response from her was beginning to annoy him. Jaime breathed deeply and let his face slip back into his usual bored expression.
I'm going to rip that mask of yours off one day.