A few days had passed since Dacey had died, and Jaime had spent most of it in the nursery. He had only occasionally left the room, and that was only when his father forced him to. When he wasn't with Lyra, then Tyrion or the wet nurse were, along with at least two trusted guards.

Lyra, in spite of her mother's death, was beginning to flourish. Despite not thriving in her first week of life, she was beginning to overcome that, and Maester Creylen had been far more optimistic about her surviving infancy. Tyrion's words about regret, however, lingered in Jaime's head, and he resolved to spend as much time as he could with his daughter.

Maege Mormont was due to arrive at Casterly Rock any day now. The weather had not been favorable, and the ship had been battling a strong head wind the entire journey south, delaying them greatly. Tywin had decided that he would be the one to greet her at the dock herself, and tell her the news about Dacey's passing, and Jaime was grateful that he would not have to be the one to face his wife's mother and inform her that her daughter had passed away.

Jaime's aunt, Genna, had been in the Riverlands when Lyra had been born, and she'd arrived back at the Rock the day after Dacey had died. Jaime had seen her every day since she'd returned to the castle though. She made a point of visiting him each day, talking with the Maester about how Lyra was going before she would rest her hand comfortingly on Jaime's shoulder. After his mother had died, Genna had been Jaime's sole maternal figure growing up, and he'd taken comfort in her presence and reassurance. Genna had often been stern with him growing up, but now she was softer … gentler. He'd once asked her about it.

"You're doing everything right," she'd told him, smiling and smoothing your hair, "when you do the wrong thing and mess things up I will chastise you then, but now…now you are doing everything right, no matter what my brother says to the contrary."

Now, though, Jaime was heading back to the nursery to see Lyra. He'd been called away by Tywin to discuss the arrangements for Dacey's funeral in the sept at Casterley Rock, and he hadn't been nearly as helpful in the process that Tywin had wanted. Tywin had sent him away gruffly, muttering that Lyra would be more useful than Jaime was being, and Jaime had to admit that his father was probably right.

Not bothering to knock, Jaime opened to door to the nursery, frowning when he felt the door hit something as it opened, blocking it from opening fully. He looked down, and noticed the pool of blood staining the carpet. Throwing his weight against the door, Jaime forced it open, almost tripping over the body of one of the guards he had left protecting his daughter.

The room, meant to be a place for the youngest members of the Lannister family to be kept safe, was splattered with blood. All three of Lyra's guards who were on duty were lying dead on the ground, as were two men who Jaime didn't know, both of whom wearing Lannister livery. The wet nurse too was laying on the floor, near the fire, her throat slashed open.

Jaime drew his sword as he set eyes on the sole other adult in the room, another stranger in Lannister livery, standing beside Lyra's cradle, a small bottle in his hand, poised, as if he were about to pour it into the cradle…into Lyra's mouth.

Lyra was crying, and Jaime stepped as close as he dared while the attacker was standing over his daughter.

"Kingslayer," the assailant snarled.

"Get away from my daughter," Jaime growled in warning, his sword held pointed against the stranger "who are you?"

"I can be whoever my employer needs me to be,"

"Your employer, who is that? They must be very stupid to try and do this."

The man laughed, "you have no idea what is going on, under your very nose, do you, Kingslayer?" he taunted, taking a few steps away from the cradle and drawing his sword. Jaime exhaled, relieved that the assassin had moved away from Lyra, and he hurried to put himself between the man and the cradle. Reaching into the cradle with his left arm he checked on Lyra. Her cries had eased, as if she knew he was there to protect her, and she gripped onto his fingers tightly.

'I have to protect her'

Despite knowing that it was probably a stupid idea, Jaime picked Lyra up, cradling her in his left arm, against his chest and over his heart. He held his sword in this right hand, and turned to his side, so that Lyra was shielded from the assassin by his body.

The assassin lunged forward with his sword, and Jaime blocked the blow with his sword, before he launched an attack of his own.

Back and forth the fight went. At some point Jaime thought he heard the bells start to ring, sounding the alarm that there were intruders in the keep, but he remained focused on the fight.

The assassin was a good fighter, Jaime would concede that…but he was Jaime Lannister, the youngest ever member of the Kingsguard. He'd been trained by Lord Sumner Crakehall, and knighted by Ser Arthur Dayne. He'd trained with Ser Barristan Selmy, and he'd won numerous jousts and tourney melees. He was one of the best swordsman in Westeros.

It did not take all that long for Jaime to disarm the assassin, even with only using his right hand. With a clatter the assassin's sword fell from his to the floor, and Jaime kicked it away out of reach, stepped on the assassins cloak to hold him still.

The assassin looked up at him, still smirking, "you have not won this fight, Kingslayer."

"I beg to differ," Jaime disagreed, holding his sword level with the man's chest. He wasn't going to kill him, they needed to know who had sent the assassin after Lyra, after all, but Jaime felt his mouth go dry and his face fall as the man lifted the small bottle that he had been about to pour into Lyra's mouth, and poured its contents down his own throat.

Jaime could only watch, his sword at his side as his opponent gurgled and then went still, his eyes blank and unseeing, and obviously dead.

Jaime slid his sword back into his sheath and looked down at Lyra, who was looking up at him, her lip quivering as if she were about to being crying again. He hushed her, rocking her soothingly as he cradled her to his chest, trying to reassure himself that she was alive and unharmed.

It was then that there was a clatter of noise, and a group of guards arrived, closely followed by Jaime's own father.

Jaime said nothing, letting his father figure things out on his own. Jaime could almost see Tywin Lannister's infamously sharp mind working over the facts and clues present in the room.

"Are you alright?" Tywin eventually asked.

"Yes," Jaime replied.

"And the baby?"

"I think so,"

"Take her to the Maester to double check, and then meet me in my solar."

Jaime nodded and left the room, still carrying Lyra in his arms. He wasn't going to let her go, not now, not until he was certain that the keep was safe.

Somebody had tried to kill his infant daughter, and Jaime wasn't going to give them another opportunity, not while he still lived.