So... I was not intending on this chapter going where it went. In the end, the direction it went is well... not something I ever anticipated writing? I do not normally write what happens at the end of this chapter...
Writing this is also the first time I have ever felt sympathy for one of the characters contained within.
Thank you to everyone for your support of this story!
It took a week for Jaime to find his favorite boyhood hiding place in Casterly Rock. He had not needed to hide himself away there since he was young, but now that his father had died, he felt a pressing need to escape from everyone. The place he ensconced himself within was a cavern overlooking the ocean. There were numerous passages which led from the castle, through the mountains, and out to the cliffs. A person who was not familiar with all the twisting, winding corridors was like to lose their way in the labyrinth of caves. Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion had made it a game to map the entirety of the passages as children. This particular overlook was close enough to the main castle that returning was swift, but far enough away that the only noise to be heard was the swell of the ocean below. He had never told his sister or brother about the cavern, choosing to claim the space as his alone.
The cushions he had smuggled from the castle to his makeshift hideaway as a child were still stacked in a corner of the overlook. The cushions were stiff from the salt air, worn thin from age, and molding. He seated himself upon them and looked out at the waves crashing on the rocks below.
He breathed freely for what felt like the first time in forever, staring at the placid line where sea and sky met. He supposed that he should miss his father. Tywin Lannister had been his father, but he had never endeared himself to Jaime or his siblings. Their father was dead, and Tyrion was now the Lord of the Westerlands. Jaime almost felt pity for his little brother's new position.
With a deep breath, Jaime wondered idly what it would be like to just sail away as his Uncle Gerion had done so long ago. What would it be like to just leave Westeros and never look back? On a normal day he would contemplate the idea of taking Cersei with him on such an adventure, but she had worn on his nerves as of late. Since their father's death she often vacillated between rage and utter despair. She accused Tyrion of poisoning everyone at Joffrey's nameday feast. He failed to see how she suspected Tyrion, as their younger brother had fallen ill as well. Jaime believed that what had killed their father, and thus far five others, was a disease or bad food as the maesters had declared.
Jaime supposed that some of Cersei's behavior was due to Joffrey still being ill. Tyrion was recovering, but Joffrey seemed to worsen every day. Tyrion recovering and becoming the Lord of Casterly Rock was reason enough for Cersei to accuse him of murder. Jaime supposed that he should feel something for the first of his offspring being ill, but felt no attachment to the boy. He had felt more attachment to Prince Rhaegar's daughter and son, but they were long gone. The princess and prince whom he had been allowed to hold and sworn to protect, were replaced by his own blood whom he had been forbidden from holding more than Cersei deemed appropriate. Cersei almost never found it appropriate for him to pay any attention to Joffrey, though she was more lenient with Tommen and Myrcella. Jaime was grateful that Tommen and Myrcella had not fallen ill. The younger two children were sequestered far away from the sick, and thus far remained healthy.
"Planning on throwing yourself off," Tyrion's voice announced behind him.
Jaime jumped, and turned to face his brother. "Aren't you still supposed to be abed?"
He shrugged casually. "I am the Lord of Casterly Rock now, there is no time to be sick."
That earned a wry grin from Jaime. "How did you find me?"
"Here? This was always your hiding place. Oh don't be surprised that I know. I was always the sneaky one remember? Don't worry, I won't tell Cersei."
"She thinks that you killed father."
The dwarf raised an eyebrow. "And got myself ill in the process? How would that benefit me?"
Jaime sighed wearily. "Don't expect me to understand our sister."
"Ah but you do seem to know her quite well." Tyrion's voice was laced with innuendo, but Jaime refused to be baited. If Tyrion knew the truth, then he had never voiced an opinion upon the matter of Jaime and Cersei's relationship.
"There are days when I do not believe I know her at all. King's Landing changes people. There are days when I wish that we could all just return here to live for good."
"Would you abandon your King?"
The Kingslayer snorted. "Some king, he brings hundreds of whores into the castle and makes me stand guard while he beds them. He grows fatter every year and drinks his way through a barrel of wine a week."
"If he's really that bad why haven't you slain him too?"
"And let a child become king? Cersei would demand the bloody throne for herself. I love our sister, but would not want to see her sit the Iron Throne."
"No, I don't think any of us want that," Tyrion muttered darkly.
Tyrion joined his brother on the cushions. Tyrion looked down at the pillows and wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Have these been here since we were children?"
Jaime laughed. "Since you started crawling I think." The dwarf shook his head and laughed. They sat quietly for some time. The sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow across the two brothers. "You'll need a wife."
"Ah but who wants to marry an imp? I may be Lord of the Rock, but the pickings are slim. Mayhap I will marry a common girl. I think that would surely offend father even in death." He paused a moment, allowing them both to chuckle. "I could propose marriage to the Dornish Princess, the little Rose of Highgarden, the elder Stark girl, or the Greyjoy girl."
Jaime stared at his younger brother incredulously. "Isn't the Stark girl just a child?"
He shrugged casually. "Children grow. There is no need for me to produce an heir just now. The Lannister line has many heirs, even if I never produce one."
"I think Cersei would prefer that you never produce an heir."
"I do believe that our dear father agreed with her on that matter. Sadly, he has died without removing me from the family."
"I heard that you are allowing Uncle Kevan to run most of the affairs of the Westerlands."
"I am. He is better liked that I and was father's right hand. I want these lands to be run well, and do not doubt his skill."
"A wise decision."
"Father would be shocked to hear that I can make wise decisions."
"He always underestimated you."
Tyrion gave his brother an appraising look and then smiled. "Oh I know. Come, let us get back inside before I fall ill again from the dampness of the breeze."
Jaime agreed, and the pair made their way back into the caves. They travelled upward until they came to one of the doors which led into the castle. They found a servant along the way, and asked that he bring food to Tyrion's rooms. The food reached the rooms before they did. Breads, meats, fruits, vegetables, and wine were laid out for their repast. Tyrion merely picked at the food and drank water instead of the wine.
"Did you give up wine, brother," Jaime questioned as he poured some for himself.
A strange, distant expression passed across Tyrion's face, but was replaced by his smile just as quickly. "Hung-over one too many times that the taste makes me feel a little ill. For now I will drink water, until the memory of my last bad morning fades."
He laughed at his younger brother's humor. They talked, laughed, and ate for some hours. Eventually, Tyrion tired, and Jaime returned to his own chambers to rest.
Jaime awoke with a start in the middle of the night. He could hear shouts in the distance and knew in the pit of his stomach what was wrong. He swiftly pulled on trousers and a tunic, grabbed his sword, and headed into the hall. There were servants and guards rushing through the halls, and he ran with them. The instant he heard the words "the prince" he pushed his way through the ever growing throng of men and women who were heading toward the shouting at the end of the hall.
Cersei's screams had mostly subsided by the time he reached her. She was on Joffrey's bed, clutching him close, but the boy was unmoving. The maester and several servants were trying to pull her away but she shouted at them and swung wildly with her arms.
"Leave us," he commanded. It took several more commands from him until everyone left. He barred the door and wrapped his arms around his twin.
"He's dead," she choked out. "Our boy."
He hushed her gently and she leaned back against him. She finally released the body of their firstborn and sobbed against Jaime. He held her close, whispering anything he could think of to soothe her. "Tommen and Myrcella are still strong and healthy. We are still strong and healthy."
She looked up at him, her green-eyes bloodshot and wild. "He was our firstborn."
He looked to the unmoving corpse of his firstborn child, and felt numb. This was not the nothingness he had felt earlier or at the loss of his father. This was the feeling he had when watching Rickard and Brandon Stark die. This was the feeling he had upon learning that Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys, and Prince Aegon had been murdered. He wanted to comfort Cersei, but felt himself slipping into the shelter he had built inside his mind.
He kissed her gently, and held her to himself. "He was our son."
"I don't want to go back to Robert," she muttered into his chest. "I hate him. The coward left me and the children here as soon as the sickness struck. He ran back to King's Landing without a second thought."
"Then we will stay here together. Let Robert drown himself in wine." He held her close. They were meant to be together. They were meant to stay together at Casterly Rock. "Leave him, and stay with me. I will kill him if he tries to take you back."
"We can't..."
"Why not," he growled. "Look at our son. When did Robert even show him the slightest amount of love? He left when you and Joffrey needed him most. Stay here beside me, and we can have more children. A brood of lions to make the world tremble. You know that Robert is powerless against the West, he is too indebted to our family to make a move against us here."
She trembled in his embrace and he hoped, hoped that she would choose to remain with him as exiles in their home. It was agonizing minutes before she unburied herself from his chest and met his eyes. Resolve was firmly etched in her emerald eyes. "Let them hear us roar," she whispered, and kissed him.