Chapter 13
Jaime
They rode through the rest of the night without stopping. Well…at least Elia rode and he walked beside the horse across the desert sands. They had filled up as much water as they dared in the canisters that they had taken from an abandoned farmstead before they had moved on and strapped them to the sides of the one remaining horse that they still had.
Elia had suggested that Jaime sit the horse as he was the one who was injured but the blonde was having none of it. Despite the burning in his head his legs were still working fine and he would continue to use them until they buckled under him and he fell.
Of course when he said this to Elia a worried pinched look came over her beautiful face and he had cursed himself for worrying her.
She had much more important things to worry about than a simple poisoned blade. Jaime wasn't even thinking about his own life, not really.
He had been declared dead in the capital at the hand of the mad king and now he may just die in the desert on the way to Dorne.
Strangely enough he was at peace with the idea. After his dishonorable act of killing his king and abandoning him what other sort of way was there for him to redeem himself other than getting the last heirs to the throne to safety before he died?
The guilt and shame of what he had been done was almost worse than the throbbing infection in his hand because Jaime knew he had broken the cardinal vow he had taken before he put on the white cloak to protect his king.
It didn't matter that only he and Varys knew what had happened and that the spymaster was sure to say nothing. He knew what he had done that was enough.
He glanced up at the princess who was riding the horse next to him at a walk with Aegon and Rhaenys once more in their sling at her back. Her beautiful face appeared ashy grey in the predawn light and he hoped it was just the lack of illumination that was causing her lack of color other than worry.
What would she say if she knew? He wondered to himself and then forced the thought down. It doesn't matter. No one is ever going to know. And at least if I die in this damned desert I will never have to tell anyone.
Perhaps some small part of him hoped that Elia would be pleased if she knew. He had seen the look of relief on her face when she had found out that Aerys was dead. He couldn't blame her. The king had tormented her for years and had been her primary source of ridicule when Rhaegar had run off with Lyanna Stark.
No one deserved that and Jaime had killed Aerys as much as to prevent him from turning King's Landing to a smouldering pile of ashes as to stop him from tormenting Elia.
When he had pushed the creature who was more rabid animal than man from his blade and watched the blood drain from him, the only thing that had been on his mind was
Elia's face and the knowledge that the king wouldn't be able to hurt her anymore.
He had felt a sick relief at knowing that her tormenter was gone and she would never have to suffer his presence again.
And now he was the one suffering.
Jaime glanced down at his hand that had been crudely bandaged to prevent any more blood loss and winced when he loved his shoulder. He was certain that had been knocked out of place and would have to be reset or else he really might damn well lose his entire arm.
The thought was worse than dying. He would be a cripple then, useless to anyone and good only for death.
Without knowing it, Jaime quickened his pace slightly.
The sun was beginning to rise over the desert and Jaime knew before long it was going to become stiflingly hot. So hot the sand would begin to burn around his feet and he would feel it through the boots he was wearing.
The heat in Dorne was enough to make a man melt who didn't know how to properly respect I and prepare for it.
Elia appeared to know this too.
"The sun will be up soon Jaime," she said quietly. "It's going to become hotter than you can imagine. Perhaps you should take off your armor. You'll be more comfortable without it."
"And what happens if we should be overtaken by another band of thieves?" he asked. "I with have nothing to defend against. I am as good as a dead man walking."
"Don't say that," Elia snapped but he could hear the worry in her voice and see it in her golden eyes. "You're not going to die. Don't even entertain thoughts like that. We are going to make it, do you understand?"
She seemed to be speaking more to herself than to him but Jaime nodded all the same. "Yes your grace."
"Good," she nodded. "Then come, perhaps with luck and a few prayers we will make it to Sunspear by sundown."
Jaime didn't want to tell her what he thought of her prayers as he didn't believe in the gods but he didn't have the energy and so he resigned himself to saying nothing.
They continued to walk on through the sands slowly but surely. The sun continued to rise and the air continued to become warmer, glaring into Jaime's face with an unrelenting cruelty.
He could feel Elia's eyes stray to him ever few seconds as if to check on him. Because of that he came dangerously close to snapping at her that her pity was not needed before he controlled himself.
It wasn't her fault he was in this position. He had made the decision to try and save her and the twins before he had ever put that sword into Aerys, before his father's army had shown up at the gates of the city, even before the Trident in which Rhaegar Targaryen had died.
And the knowledge of this had thrown a few things into sharp relief.
Perhaps he had wanted to save her because he knew he couldn't save himself. It was thanks to Cersei's scheming and his own stupidity that he was trapped in the life he had been in and had been serving a mad man who was fond of burning people alive. He couldn't save himself from serving a mad king and he couldn't save himself from the life his father had hammered out for him, but perhaps he could save someone else, an innocent who didn't deserve the fate that Jaime's father would have foisted upon her.
Perhaps by saving the princess and her children he would be redeeming himself from all the wrong he had done when he had forsaken his vows and killed his king.
I've done a lot of bad in my short life, he thought to himself as the sweat dripped down his forehead and ran stinging into his eyes. I've deflowered my own sister, I've served a madman, I didn't have the courage to stop the murders of Brandon and Rickard Stark and now I've broken my vows and killed my king. That's a lot of honor to lose in so short a time. And now to top it all off I've deceived my family into thinking that I was dead so I could escape with that same princess and her children. No matter where I turn there is something wrong with everything that I have done.
He had a feeling in the back of his mind that these hopeless self loathing thoughts had something to do with the fever that was slowly overtaking him.
He glanced down and his hand that Elia had roughly tied with a piece of her cloak and grimaced.
Though he couldn't see it, it was throbbing and hurt like the seven hells. He didn't want to know what it looked like and felt bile rise in his throat from the sheer imagery.
Get a hold of yourself Lannister, you've well and truly lost your mind.
Not yet, a dark voice in the back of his mind cackled. But you'll be well on your way soon enough.
A curse slipped out from between his clenched teeth and he raised a hand to brush back the sweaty hair from his forehead.
The sun was slowly but surely rising to the center of the sky indicating that it was getting on to midday and it would only be a few hours more before the sun was at its hottest.
But from the way Jaime was sweating now he had a feeling that he might not be able to take much more of this.
Elia seemed to know it too because her next sentence that punctuated the silence was an odd one.
"Do you know the tale of Nymeria well?" she asked.
Jaime looked up at her in surprise and bewilderment to find a thoughtful expression her face. "What?"
Elia calmly repeated the question. "Do you know the tale of Nymeria and Mors Martell well?"
Jaime stared at her for a moment wondering where on earth the question had come from and could nothing more than stupidly shake his head. "Not in great detail no."
Elia nodded sharply. "Good, then allow me to educate you. You need to know what you'll be seeing when you get to Sunspear."
He noticed her subtle stressing of the word when and grimaced to himself thinking more along the lines of if he got to Sunspear.
If he believed in the gods he would pray to them to keep him on his feet until they reached the city so he could give Elia and her children over to the care of her brothers.
What might happen to him after that well…he didn't much care at this point as the pain in his shoulder was screaming at him and his hand was throbbing something awful.
But he didn't have the energy to deny her any more than he had the strength to turn around and god back to King's Landing.
"Very well," he said through somewhat tight lips. "Tell me."
"Yes mama, tell us a story!" Aegon piped up from the sling that was tied to Elia's back. The little blonde had poked his head out of it and had his tiny hands pressed against his mother's shoulders and looked as eager as Jaime had ever seen him.
Despite the pain in his hand and shoulder Jaime smiled. Nothing ever seemed to dampen Aegon's spirits. He had always been a happy go lucky boy despite the fact that he was the future king…or would have been before all of this had happened. No matter what happened in the keep between his mother and his grandfather, his father or with regards to the war and his father's death the boy forever had a smile on his face and unknowingly cheered the hearts of those around him.
He would have made a good king, Jaime thought to himself grimly as he looked at the little blonde peeking up over his mother's shoulder. He would have brought about an end to the madness that his father and grandfather suffered from.
And then he wanted to curse himself for his bleak thoughts. The prince is not dead you fool! He's making his way to Dorne where he will be under the protection of his uncles for the rest of his life. And maybe….just maybe if the gods do exist there will be enough justice in this world to sit him on the Iron Throne one day if Baratheon ever should be torn down.
He glanced back at the boy and then blinked in surprise when he saw princess Rhaenys poke her dark head up over her mother's shoulder. She gave Jaime a reproachful look at first and then a small smile which he returned although he feared it was more of a grimace.
"Very well then," Elia said and seemed very pleased with herself. "Did you know children that my family, the Martells and your father's family the Targaryens have a very long history even before we met?"
Jaime snorted in amusement as the twins' shook their head, violet eyes wide with wonder.
"How Mama?" Rhaenys asked in a quiet voice.
"I'll tell you," Elia went on giving Jaime a smug smile and he realized then that her story was intended to distract him from the pain in his hand and shoulder.
He almost smirked up at her through his eyelashes. She's smarter than anyone thought.
"You won't know this yet, but your father's ancestors waged war against the Ghiscari empire in Essos a very long time ago. You haven't heard of them because the dragon lords wiped them all out. They used their dragons to tear down the Ghiscari Empire and raze their cities to ash before they established the greatest civilization known to man. And you both are a part of that."
Both Aegon and Rhaenys' eyes were wide at this point and Jaime chuckled quietly to himself before wincing and glaring down at the pain in his hand.
He was having a hard time moving some of his fingers and a wave of panic nearly overtook him then.
What if I lose my sword hand? He thought to himself. I've never used a sword with my left hand before. What am I going to do?
He was so lost in thought that he almost missed Elia's next words. "The Rhoynish army, my ancestors also engaged in battle with the dragon lords as well, but just like the Ghiscari empire they were defeated. There was one glaring difference however, they were not wiped out."
"What happened to them Mama?" Aegon asked.
"Well," Elia said with a smile. "They survived. And after the defeat of the Rhoynish army by the dragon lords at the end of what was called the Second Spice war, the leader and warrior Princess Nymeria, my ancestor and yours, led the Rhoynar into exile from the Rhoyne aboard ten thousand ships. They were to embark on a great exodus, a great journey across the sea."
"Are we on a journey Mama?" Rhaenys asked.
"Yes sweetling," Elia said quietly. "We are on a journey and soon we will reach our destination."
There was a long moment of silence where no one said anything and a sense of tension seemed to fill the hot air and the endless desert.
And then Aegon's little voice piped up again. "Finish the story Mama."
Elia smiled. "Alright sweetling. You should know that this story has something of a happy ending, just like ours will. After years of wandering the surviving Rhoynar which were mostly women, children and the elderly arrived at the mouth of the Greenblood in south eastern Dorne. Perhaps your uncles will take you there to see it and show you our history when we get to Sunspear.
"Now the warrior princess Nymeria met with Mors Martell who was the Lord of the Sandship so long ago. They made a common cause together because you see Mors's land was dwarfed by those of the powerful kings like House Yronwood. They wanted to take over Dorne so the only way to do it was together."
"What happened next Mama?"
Elia's golden eyes took on a wistful hue and her soft voice died away for a moment before she continued.
Jaime found himself almost in thrall of that voice as it had the quality of fresh fallen snow, soft enough to lull him to sleep but also to want to make him stay awake just so that he could hear more of it.
"And so Nymeria married Mors Martell and the two of them formed House Nymeros Martell. It was a union that would end the days of endless travel for the Rhoynar as they would make their home in Dorne and never leave. And on that day, Nymeria made a promise of her commitment not only to Mors but to all of Dorne and her people with a rather shocking gesture."
"What was it?"
"Nymeria ordered all of the ships that she had brought her people to Westeros in burned so that they would never leave Dorne. It was a gamble, such a public gesture could not be undone and if they failed in their campaign against the other houses of Dorne, her people might surely have torn her down as their leader. But it didn't fail."
"It didn't?"
"No, the people of the Martell land intermarried with the Rhoynar to solidify the bond between the Dornish and the Rhoynar and this union made their joined people stronger. It increased the strength of the Martells tenfold. After that Nymeria declared her husband Mors to be the Prince of Dorne using the Rhoynish title of prince instead of the Westerosi one of king. Primogeniture was also introduced."
Jaime wanted to laugh when Aegon screwed up his face at the unfamiliar word. "What's that mean Mama?"
"It means that the eldest child born to the ruling family will be the ruler of their house," Elia explained patiently. "Boy or girl it didn't matter."
"Really?"
"Really."
"What happened then?"
"Well, the campaign of Nymeria and Mors to conquer Dorne took years to accomplish because they had to defeat numerous lords and petty kings who stood in their way. And even though the Martells gained the support of other families like the Fowlers the Tollands the Daynes and the Ullers, their greatest opponent was King Yorick Yronwood the fifth. Mors fought against him for nine years."
"That's a long time," Rhaenys said quietly.
"It is," Elia replied. "And ultimately it cost Mors his life."
"He died?" Aegon asked his eyes as wide as dinner plates.
"He did," Elia said. "Yorick killed him at the third battle of the Boneway. But Nymeria continued the war and ultimately led her people to victory. She forced the Yronwoods into submission after another two years of fighting."
A sliver of pride crept into her voice then and Jaime stole a glance at her from his position below her. It was obvious she was very proud of her family history and knowing she would be able to pass it on to her children was important to her.
"And at the end of the war Nymeria sent six of the self styled kings to the Wall. The fortress of Sunspear was made the capital of Dorne and House Martell has ruled the land ever since."
"And what about Nymeria?" Rhaenys asked.
"She married again to Davos Dayne," Elia replied. "But the child she had with Mors, a daughter became the ruler of Dorne after her, even though the first child she had with Davos was a male. You come from a proud lineage the both of you. Dorne was only brought into the Seven Kingdoms by the Targaryen through marriage and it did not occur until two centuries after the Targaryens came to Westeros. We are a proud people and the words Unbowed, Unbent and Unbroken will always define our house."
There was an awed silence a moment later causing Jaime to smile at Aegon and Rhaenys' expressions of wonderment.
"You also have cousins in Sunspear did you know that?' Elia asked and the twins both shook their heads.
"Well you do. Their names are Arianne and Quentyn and Trystane. Your cousin Arianne is the heir to Sunspear and one day she will rule all of Dorne. I can't wait for you to meet her?"
"Have you met her Mama?" Aegon asked eagerly.
"Only once," Elia said. "She was still a babe when I left Dorne to marry your father. But she looks almost exactly like you Rhaenys."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Mama?" Rhaenys asked in a quiet tone which caused Jaime to get a sinking feeling that a deep question was coming.
"Yes sweetling?" Elia asked her gaze focused on the road and the sandy dunes that their tired horse was plodding over.
"When we will get there?"
"Hopefully soon sweetling," Elia replied calmly. "I know your uncles will be so happy to see you and your cousins will want to show you Sunspear. It's the most beautiful place in the world. And it doesn't stink like King's Landing."
That last part was said under her breath and Jaime smirked slightly to hear her assessment of the place.
The stink of the capital was something that all visitors and residents commented on whether they were common folk or nobly born.
After a while he had almost become used to it, just like he had almost become used to Aerys treachery and madness….and that frightened him more than anything, that he had almost become accustomed to the monstrosities of the king that he swore to serve and had killed by his own hand.
You took a vow to protect the king not to judge him….
"Piss off," Jaime muttered underneath his breath and Elia frowned before turning towards him. "Did you say something Jaime?"
"No your grace."
She looked at him carefully then, really looked at him and her exquisite face twisted into a frown slightly. "How are you feeling?"
It was on the tip of Jaime's tongue to say like death warmed over but he knew that would hardly be productive and would only serve as a means to frighten her.
Even though she was worried about him she also knew he had her children to think about as well and they mattered more than he did.
His only task was to get them to Sunspear…after that….well after that it was left up to the Martells what to do.
In a way, his life as he knew it was over. To the rest of the realm he was a dead man who had perished with his king. And if they didn't get to Sunspear soon he was dead for real anyway.
He risked a glance down at his crudely bandaged hand and was tempted to pull back the makeshift coverlet that Elia had tied so he could see how bad the damage was. His other hand that was still gripping the sword he had haphazardly put back on after their nighttime fight twitched towards his wounded one but he stayed his fingers at the last moment and took in a deep breath.
It would do not good now to look at it. Either I lose my fingers or I lose my whole hand and any fighting ability I might have had. Apparently the only one who can save me now is the paramour of Prince Oberyn. How strange life has become. And if these are my final days on it….well then at least maybe I've managed to reclaim some of my honor.
"Fine your grace," he replied quietly. "I am fine."
But he knew Elia didn't believe him.
Ω
It had been a long time since he had seen the red keep this full of people.
The last time it had been this populated had been at the wedding of the prince and his bride from Dorne.
That left like an age ago.
In fact the last few weeks had felt like an age as well. And he had thought it tricky to serve the mad king when he was still alive….it was nothing compared to all the logistics of his death.
Not long after Ser Jaime and Princess Elia and her children had narrowly escaped the keep and fled the capital which he had watched until they were out of sight and heading south, the dog of the Lannisters, the Mountain and Amory Lorch along with a smaller contingent of guards had burst into the keep and gone looking for the princess.
He had sequestered himself in his room and busied himself with other tasks before they had shown up for him thus he did not hear what they did to that poor girl and the children with her.
He was sorry for what had happened to her, she had had a role to play and she fulfilled it well but it didn't make him any less sorry that it had happened.
Varys had always only looked out for himself as well as interests of the king and in the last days thankfully those interests had coincided.
Once the bodies of the woman and the children had been finished being desecrated by the Mountain and his men they were wrapped in a red cloak and laid to rest on the floor of the throne room before the dais no doubt so that they would be presented to the new king when he arrived.
Because Baratheon had been injured at the Trident, Ned Stark, Jon Arryn and their combined armies had arrived at the Red Keep first and had been noticeably appalled and horrified at the manner in which the fake princess and the children had been killed.
Varys had always had a skilled face and an ability to be as expressionless as he wanted but the interrogation by Tywin Lannister in the days following the sack of the capital was one that even he found difficult.
He knew it would be difficult to convince the aging lord about his son's death at the hands of the Mad King but that it was necessary to do so that he would not lose his head and that the knowledge of the living princess and her children would be kept secret. In order for that to happen, Jaime Lannister's death had to be believable.
And so he had told Tywin that in the last days before the Lannister army had arrived at the capital and war was still being waged at the Trident that Ser Jaime had attempted to leave King's Landing to fight alongside the prince.
In a rage, the king had ordered him imprisoned before tying him to a pyre and burning him alive. All that remained was his sword and scorched armor that Varys had properly seen to in order to make it as believable as possible.
All these items he had presented to the old lion withholding nothing and had simply waited for the rest of the chips to fall where they may.
Varys had observed Jaime from afar for years and had noted how foolishly honorable he was and how much he valued nobility in a knight. Varys could also tell how disgusted the blonde was with serving the king and how much he wished for justice.
Unlike him Jaime did not have a good playing face and it had worked to Varys advantage. He had been able to see that young knight was falling in love with the princess a long time before Jaime realized it himself and thus it had been all that much easier to subtly manipulate the knight into doing his bidding.
He had wanted to save Elia, he had seen it in his eyes and when the two had looked at each other down in the Black Cells and the princess had begged Ser Jaime to come with them…Varys had seen that she loved him too.
Oh what a tangled web we weave….
He wasn't sure if either of them were aware of the feelings the other had but concluded that perhaps it was something they might act upon when they reached Dorne.
They are still young he thought to himself, and now that Jaime Lannister has all but betrayed his family unknowingly he will be the piece that ultimately tears them down from power once Aegon Targaryen comes of age. No…this is not the end.
It was for Tywin Lannister however who if anything seemed to become more cold, distant and ruthless since he had received the knowledge of his son's death.
He had summoned his daughter there without delay and the wedding to Robert Baratheon had taken place shortly after.
The new king had had his coronation and for all intents and purposes was the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm…for now.
Varys had watched Cersei Lannister carefully upon her arrival at court and noted that her face though gave the appearance of grieving for her brother seemed to have lost none of its desire for power.
Yes, Ser Jaime will be her undoing…will be all of their undoing.
At the moment he was sitting in his chambers after a rather taxing meeting of the small council where he had been allowed to retain his position.
Tywin Lannister had departed for Casterly Rock with all that was left of his sons material possessions along with the charred bones of a prisoner whom he believed to be Jaime's.
Varys would admit that he had taken a little too much pleasure in recanting what had happened in great detail to Tywin. His expressions hadn't changed but Varys had been certain he had seen a flash of pain in the older man's green eyes.
He didn't allow himself a private moment of victory until he had returned to his chambers and shut the door behind him. Then and only then…he had allowed himself to smile.
Varys thought he was justified in his private moment of celebration as he had succeeded in outsmarting the new king, the old lion and all of the rest of the realm. If this worked and Prince Aegon returned to take the throne, it would be the biggest ruse pulled over the eyes of all of Westeros perhaps ever.
It was also rather interesting to see what the bodies of the believed princesses and prince had done to Eddard Stark when he arrived to secure the capital ahead of Robert Baratheon.
The face of the quiet wolf had gone pale and sort of crumpled almost as if he were suppressing the urge to weep when he had seen those bodied wrapped in those red cloaks.
It had been….interesting to say the least.
The argument he had had with Baratheon before he had stormed out was even more interesting and Varys wondered if they would be able to mend their friendship after this gross disagreement and clash of morals.
But even if they didn't, it didn't matter at any rate.
The Targaryens would return whether Westeros was peaceful when it happened or not.
Calmly he poured a glass of wine from the decanter on the table by the window and seated himself by the fire.
They should be arriving in Dorne any day now. And if he didn't receive a letter from Prince Doran within the next few days well…perhaps he would write one himself.
Ω
He was hot.
There were times when Jaime forgot if he knew what it felt like to be cool.
He had long since lost all feeling in his hand and his entire right arm felt numb. That might have been mind over matter but at the moment all he could feel was the searing in his fingers and the numbness of his arm.
That either meant that his body was shutting down the functions of his hand in order to save itself, or his hand had now become useless.
The sun continued to blaze in a cloudless blue sky as they continued their plodding trek across the sands of Dorne.
All of their heads were bowed to keep the sun from their eyes and their faces and because it took too much energy to raise them.
Aegon and Rhaenys had long since gone quiet after their mother's story and were now nestled snugly in the sling on her back so they might stay out of the sun as well.
The only water they had was what had been brought with them from the last oasis they had stopped in and it was rapidly running out.
As much as he was dying of thirst Jaime didn't dare ask for a single drop. The princess and her children needed it more than he did.
He could taste the saltiness of his own sweat as it ran down his face, stinging his eyes and occasionally touched his lips.
He cringed slightly but made no other action of discomfort than that.
It simply became a matter of putting one foot after the other even though his limbs began to feel as heavy as lead.
Keep going….keep going….almost there….almost there…..
He concentrated on his breathing and on the sound of it going into and coming out of his mouth.
In….and out….in….and out….in…..and out….in….and out…..
His steps became a mantra, the pain an ever distance throbbing in his hand, his shoulder and the back of his mind.
He was certain that the joint had been knocked out of place and would need to be properly set along with the blade he had been stabbed with would need to be sewed up.
If he made it that was.
He wasn't aware that Elia was watching him with a concerned gaze and he was so focused on simply putting one foot in front of the other that he barely noticed when a stone happened to be his path and his foot clanged against nearly causing him to go sprawling to the sand.
"Jaime!" Elia cried out even as he steadied himself. "By the gods are you alright?"
He raised a hand in order to wave off her concerns but she had already pulled the exhausted horse to a halt and clambered down from it as fast as she could, raising his chin so that she might look into his eyes.
Before he could tell her that he was fine she had pressed a hand to the side of his face as if assessing his temperature.
Her hand was blessedly cool and he was hard pressed to not close his eyes in response to the comfort of her touch.
"You're burning up," she whispered.
"It's just the heat of the desert your grace," he said in an effort to placate her.
"No," Elia replied, her tone soft and slow with worry. "I know what the heat of this desert does to a person. I grew up here remember? I know how much heat a man can stand and I also know what temperature from the elements looks like and temperature from a fever. You have a fever, the weather would help you to sweat it out if you didn't have that blasted infection from the poison. Let me see your hand."
It was on the tip of his tongue to deny her but he didn't have the energy or the motivation to do so and so he simply let her gentle undo the crude bandage on his hand.
She said nothing when the fingers came into view, but her hand on his other arm tense and he looked carefully into her face. "How bad is it?"
Elia pursed her lips. "Bad enough."
She immediately proceeded to rewrap his hand. He got the distinct feeling that she didn't want him to see how bad it was and a cold feeling settling in the pit of his stomach that rivaled any pain he had felt all day.
He opened his mouth but to say what he didn't know when all of a sudden she thrust the waterskin in his hand.
"What are you doing?" he asked her.
"Keeping you alive," she all but snapped at him. "Drink it."
He tried to protest. "You need it more than I do."
She shook her head. "Jaime you are dead on your feet and unless you wish to die of dehydration and fever before the infection gets to you than you will drink the water. I have already had my fill and both Aegon and Rhaenys are asleep. They should be until we reach Dorne."
"And if they wake up then and are thirsty?" Jaime countered. "I am not going to be the one to deny water from the prince and princess."
Elia stared at him for a long moment and he was surprised to see her golden eyes blazing. "And what are they going to say if you are dead and found out that they could have saved you by being just a little bit thirsty. Contrary to what you might think my daughter and son care a great deal about what happens to you Jaime and I know for a fact that if it meant having you with us they would be alright with being thirsty for a little while."
Jaime stared down at the water skin she was offering him and could then think of no other arguments with which to dissuade her.
"Very well," he said so low she barely heard him.
And their journey continued.
Despite the fact that Jaime didn't have the energy to argue with her about the water, he refused to concede fully and only took small sips and only when he felt his tongue begin to cling to the roof of his mouth.
He could feel Elia's eyes on him but he didn't care. He wasn't going to be responsible for leaving the last of the royal family in Westeros without water.
It didn't make much of a difference anyway, the heat of the sun had turned the water warm and it had become somewhat unappealing to drink which added to Jaime's own disgust for himself, the situation and the water itself.
The sun continue to rise….and then mercifully, shockingly it began to lower in the sky and the brutal sun's heat began to diminish.
A wind blew, lifting Jaime's sweaty hair from his forehead and somehow he had the energy to lift his face towards it, closing his eyes and feeling a momentary reprieve from the heat and the sweat that was sliding down his back beneath his dusty travel worn clothes and dented armor.
"Can you feel that?" Elia asked softly and he looked at her and nodded. "Where is it coming from?"
An elated look filled her beautiful face. "The sea. We're getting close. Our journey is almost at an end."
Jaime hardly dared think that was true, it seemed impossible that the endless desert would soon be behind them. His mind was unwilling to believe it and somehow he managed to summon the strength to raise his head.
The sun was beginning to set and the heat of the day had mercifully come to an end. He eyes Elia's feet in the stirrups of the exhausted horse and was glad she had been wearing sturdy enough shoes that the heat of the sand hadn't burned her skin.
Their path began an upward incline and Jaime felt whatever strength he had left all but drain from his bones.
Keep going, and indignant voice in his head demanded.
And so he did, they continued a climb up a particularly high sand dune and upon the moment they reached the top of it, Elia's breath caught in her throat.
And it was there that Jaime saw Sunspear for the first time.
"There is it," Elia whispered tearfully. "We're home."
Two enormous towers stretched one hundred and fifty feet in height above the walls that surrounded them. There was a spear of gilded steel attached to the very top of one of them that appeared nearly an extra thirty feet. The other one was shorter and appeared a bronzy gold color when the sun hit it directly.
Jaime could see the three massive winding walls which circled each other. They were still a distance away from it, but Jaime could hear the faint roar of the ocean from the place where Sunspear sat near the sea.
"The seat of House Nymeros Martell Jaime," Elia whispered.
"Aye," he replied. "We made it."
They continued plodding toward the gates and only barely made it inside in time before the gates shut for the night.
Everything seemed to pass in a blur for Jaime and he was barely aware of the fact that he had gone numb.
When they reached the gates of the Sandship and the Tower of the Sun he barely remembered the words he was supposed to say.
"I am Jaime Lannister, here to deliver the Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon safely into the care of Prince Doran."
The words sounded strange and foreign, almost thick, coming from his mouth, but he said them anyway as if he were no more alive than a ghost.
One of the guards carrying a tall spear burst out laughing as if Jaime had made a classic jape. "Are you mad boy? The princess and her children were killed in King's Landing by the scum Lannisters. Who are you really?"
And that was when Elia spoke up. "Did you not hear Ser Jaime Lannister? I am Elia Nymeros Martell sister to Prince Doran Martell the Lord of Sunspear and the Sandship. And you will let me and my children and Ser Jaime. We have traveled for weeks and have come a long way. My children are exhausted as am I and Ser Jaime is badly in need of a maester. You will let us pass."
As she was speaking she pulled down the hood of the dirty torn cloak she was wearing and let her long black hair tumble down her back.
Aegon and Rhaenys poked their heads out of the sling on her back and at the sight of Aegon's blonde hair and the double set of violet eyes on the twins's the guards went white.
"My apologies my lady," one of the guards. "Please follow me and come quickly."
Elia urged her tired horse in through the gates and seized hold of Jaime's free hand to make sure that he followed them.
But it was only when they entered the tower itself and the courtyard before it and servants came running that the light headedness that Jaime had been feverishly fighting off came over him in a wave.
He barely remembered helping Elia down from her horse and helping her to untie the sling on her back so Aegon and Rhaenys could climb out before his vision tunneled.
A darkness was forming around his eyes and he seemed as powerless to resist it as he was able to move his hand.
Each breath seemed laborious then and things began to become grey. He stumbled and barely realized that he was falling before he landed flat on his back on the ground.
He was barely aware of Elia calling his name and the last thing Jaime saw before he blacked out was Elia's beautiful face staring down at him, her voice forming words before everything went dark.
Ω
And we have arrived! We will be going back to Elia's perspective next and dealing with the fallout of Jaime and Elia's plan and escape to Dorne. Doran and Oberyn will be in the next chapter. Don't forget to review!