Chapter 14 – Jaime.
The road to King's Landing had been a long and arduous one. Even on the Goldroad leading from the Golden Tooth all the way to the Capital, Lord Crakehall's retinue still had to prepare itself with all the usual bluster and speed with which Lord Sumner tended to do anything, or the lack thereof to be more specific. Apparently he had been a great Knight during the War of Ninepenny Kings and proven himself at the Battle of Bloodstones, but not anymore. He barely fitted in his armour, required constant refittings and if Jaime had to go down into the Castle Blacksmith to get any more holes put on that belt one more time, he'd defect to a band of outlaws.
Still, Jaime had much to be grateful for to squire for such a man. His mind was as sharp as ever, even if it was focused on past glories. He had advice about Knighthood, Lording and administration of territories. As well on all too familiar lectures on family, legacy and honour. It was during those times that he wondered whether it was truly Lord Sumner speaking to him, or whether Lord Tywin was speaking through him. It was at times like that Jaime wondered if there was a single corner of these Kingdoms in which his Lord Father did not have sway, influence or domination.
Regardless of what he personally thought or believes, he knew that the other squires was not subject to the same lessons as Jaime himself and he could not contradict his Lord, even if he wanted to. He was a squire, to be seen not heard and to obey his Master in all things. At least until he received the honour of Knighthood and inherited the Rock. Then Jaime would be the one who was to be heard and obeyed in equal measure in all things, or so it was meant to be.
Still, much as these flights of fancy did much to distract from the monotony of this march. Jaime found himself dragged back to reality. He could be playing hide and seek with Tyrion, then they had to turn on a corner. Arraon and he were duelling in the Courtyard of Casterly Rock, then some kind of obstacle on the road forced him to focus on that instead. Father was giving some lecture on…family? Duty? Honour? Something like that and those times Jaime focused on every other aspect of the world since that was much more entertaining than those endless harangues. And then there was times he had to pull himself out of the dream world. When he thought of Cersei. Then he would have ridden his horse across the entire countryside all the way to the Wall itself or over the Dornish sands into the sea. He thought of her every day, of her soft skin, of her hair, of her shining eyes, of that gorgeous smile. Plenty of serving girls and Knight's daughters had looked at him during his time at the Crakehall. But so what? None of them were Cersei, none of them could ever think of holding a candle to her.
Regardless, it was these thoughts and dreams of Home and Family that gad sustained Jaime on the road to the capital, walking with Dagger running through the fields or by his side, near the back of this procession alongside Merrett Frey, much to his dismay, beneath the boar of Crakehall and a small band of his retainers with the Lion of Lannister roaring proudly above them all. He was at least thankful that Merrett had learnt to shut his mouth for once, he had seen to that. Still, it did not distract from the fact that Jaime did not quite understand what they were doing here. There were plenty of Lords in the Westerlands, let alone Westeros itself, that could have answered Father's summons. Why Lord Sumner?
Still, Jaime could empathise with him. The Kingswood Brotherhood had been declared enemies of the Crown and Realm. Jaime didn't know all that much about them, bar the stories and myths he heard. Apparently, they had just been poachers and outlaws living in the Kingswood, just south of King's Landing. Ser Simon Tyrone had established the band for….freedom? True justice? Some kind of nonsense like that. They had mostly just been poachers and petty thieves from what Jaime had heard, yet their songs were carried all across the Kingdoms, apparently protecting the Smallfolk from the unjust nature of the King's forces. He wondered why Father allowed them to be tolerated then when he would never have suffered such a band anywhere near that close to Casterly Rock.
Whatever the reason for why King Aerys tolerated them, that ended rather recently when a band lead by a figure known only as the "Smiling Knight" was brave, or foolish, enough to attack Queen Rhaella's Litter and steal her jewels, and a kiss, if the stories could be believed. In addition, the act left one of her Kingsguard Ser Harlan Grandison slain and even the White Bull, Ser Gerold Hightower, mortally wounded with an arrow through the hand to boot.
Afterwards, Aerys issued a proclamation naming them enemies of the Crown and urging all loyal subjects to "descend upon my Kingswood and purge my Forrest of all traitors and scourges who would dare impugn the honour of the Dragon
They had seen many such vagrants and wandering heroes on their way to the Capital, bypassing them with ease. On other days, he and Merrett may have snickered among one another but with his face cast away from Jaime to hide the extent of his bloodied, black eye, Merrett Frey wasn't likely to be making jokes at anyone's expense for quite a while. It was his own fault, really. Well, it had been Jaime's fist that smashed his face in upon the Courtyard. But Merrett had been badmouthing Arraon when sparring, demeaning him as the shame of House Lannister, trying to tempt Jaime into a heated duel. He obliged, but then Frey went too far and called him the…Black Lion or the False Lion, he couldn't really recall. Regardless, as he said to Merrett as he lay on the ground with Jaime's sword at his throat, "A bastard my Brother may be, but any son of House Lannister will always be worth more than a hundred trueborn Frey's any day of the year. Never forget that." Merrett never would.
At the end of all this, however, they came to the edge of the Kingswood where a makeshift camp had been erected. A scarce few tents existed behind wooden spikes, with hedge knights, squires and pages wandering around, moving supplies, weapons and armour. Jaime thought he even saw a few whores moving from tent to tent. In all, there must have been no more than fifty men in the makeshift camp. A rather sorry lot to tell the truth. Rusty axes and shredded cloaks among those who obviously had no Lord to sponsor them. He had assumed the force of a royal summons would be larger or more spectacular than this. He was evidently wrong.
Hours after that, by virtue of status and blood, Jaime had been permitted his own tent next to Lord Sumner's own. Hardly anything special. A couple straw beds and a trunk for his armour and other possessions that he had brought with him. He thought that perhaps there was meant to be another in that tent with him but Dagger squatting firmly on the other mat had put an end to any of that. He doubted any other squire would be stupid enough to wrestle with a Pendric Lion for a bed. Then again, given the calibre of intelligence of people in this part of the Kingdoms where they were brave or stupid enough to challenge the Targaryen Crown…
Just then, as he was sorting through his chest and contemplating, Dagger began to growl and Jaime heard his tent flap rustle open. Someone was in the tent. He pretended not to hear and to continue rummage through the chest, looking for a real dagger of his own – simple pommel, sharp steel blade. He grabbed the hilt and prepared to turn around and take down his intruder. He could be one of the Brotherhood for all he knew. He grabbed the pommel with as firm a grip that he could muster, remembered all the training that he could remember on turning around in combat while also trying to make sure the intruder did not know he was aware Jaime was there either. He prepared himself to turn around and thrust the blade into his opponent's belly, then he struck….
And found his hand caught by another one, almost as if it knew he was there. "Is that any way to say hello, Brother?" And Jaime looked up to see a familiar face.
"Arraon!" he exclaimed happily as he stood up, threw his blade aside and wrapped his arms around his dear sibling, feeling him doing the same in an embrace he had not done with a member of his family for what felt like years. Well, it had been years. Even when they let go of the hug, their hands were still on one another's shoulders.
"You look like shit."
That made Jaime laugh. "Same to you. Gods, how long has it been? Three years? Four?"
"Long enough. Where was it Father sent you, the…Crag, was it?"
"The Crakehall. Nothing as grand as King's Landing."
"If you think this city is grand, you haven't seen much beyond the Red Keep. And if you ever see Flea Bottom…" Arron only gave a noise of disgust after that.
"How'd you know I was here?"
"Word spreads around the camp easily enough. Plus, I…"
"Cersei's here isn't she, though?" Jaime said in a rather rushed manner.
"Ha! I'm surprised it took you that long to ask."
"But she is in King's Landing?"
"Yes, she is. Father brought her here to cement a betrothal to Rhaegar. Didn't exactly pan out that way."
"They say the Prince stood up and defied the King to his face."
"Yes, that…happened. I guess I should have told Rhaegar she was already taken," Arraon said with a smirk as he nudged Jaime's shoulder.
"Shut up. But she is in the city?"
"That she is."
"And…does she mention me?"
"Yes. Usually in conjunction with "you'll never be as good as" when directed at me." Arraon looked outside, seemingly checking for anyone outside. "I assume your…feelings haven't changed."
"Of course not. And I don't care what any silver haired Prince has to say on the matter. Cersei and I belong together." Jaime said with a fierce determination, knowing that it was the truth.
"Well, I'm sure you can make it work. But until then, come with me. We saved you a spot around the fire."
"We?" Jaime asked to no answer as he followed his brother out of the tent, as he clicked his tongue to summon Dagger to his side, towards the end of the camp where a group of what looked to be similarly dressed squires were all sitting round a campfire, some with their swords across their laps and others with drinks in their hands and laughter upon their lips. Some acknowledged Arraon as friends as he and Jaime sat down by the fire. Though Jaime's attention had been on Dagger who had ran off to his own white haired brother. They looked as if they were fighting to most, but Jaime knew they were playing. They paws at one another's manes and growled while biting at their necks and rolling in the space outside the camp, just in the light of the fire. It was then that Jaime's attention turned back to the group around him.
"So, this is the famous Jaime Lannister, Hill?" one asked. This was a dour person. Short auburn hair, stained with dirt and muck, as the stubble of a beard covered his face. Short in stature, but possessing a bedevilling smirk as he twirled a dagger on the wooden log where he sat with his finger.
"Aye, the one and only. Jaime, may I have the…honour of presenting Corren Shermer, of the Reach." Jaime wanted to say it was a pleasure, but the Septons were rather fond of preaching how bad lying was, so he chose silence with a smile as a preferable response.
"And this is Jullon Tolland, of Dorne." Arraon said as he motioned towards a Dornishman, with olive skin and black hair. Slim and slender he was, obviously possessing a rather quiet demeanour as he sat with a skin between his hands. He did not say a word but gave Jaime a smile. What interested Jaime more were the twin daggers sitting at either side of the squire.
"Roger Rykker, from uh…the Riverlands, wasn't it?" as he motioned to a surprisingly fat young squire with grey strands in his messy hair and spaces between his teeth. He couldn't tell whether he would be jovial to the point of recklessness or a madman. Jaime also did not care to find out.
"The Crownlands. My Family are the Lord of Duskendale now!"
"How wonderful for you. And this is Quentyn Banefort, my fellow squire to Ser Gerold Hightower."
"My Lord," was the well-spoken response of a strong built boy with brown hair and dark green eyes, with a hood over his back. Hardly surprising given his family lineage.
"Julian Vikary, who I believe is sworn to the service of House Lannister," Arraon added in a condescending way.
"Only because we served House Reyne once." Said the average squire, with neither weight nor strength to distinguish him with eyes and hair as brown as any common folk. If he did not bear the seal of his House upon his chest, he would assume he was so lowly born.
"And…uh, I didn't get your names," Arraon finished as he moved to two black haired twins, with matching emeralds in their eyes and matching lengths of their beards. It unsettled Jaime to see them even whet their Longswords in a matching manner.
"Jaren and Drack Storm, milord. But don't pay no 'tention to us, milord. Once these scum 'ave been driven from the Woods, we'll be out of the air of such 'onourable company, milord." One of them said in a mocking tone. He was surprised they did not speak in unison. Among them all, Jaime and Arraon looked out of place with their golden hair, and Arraon more so with his hazel eyes.
"Yes, we were just talking about that before Arraon went to get you. We've all heard the stories. Tell us, what would your father do?" Jullon asked, speaking for the first time in an accent that more resembled that of a Reachman than that of a man of Dorne.
"I told you what my father would do – send an army to all the farms and Inns in this Forrest, and set them on fire to teach them a lesson." Arraon declared, in a triumphant and certain way.
"How can you say that with any pride? These people have been kind to us, served us, and been our friends, Arraon. Has Ser Gerold taught you nothing?" Quentyn spat at Arraon with a kind of venom he hadn't yet seen.
"Yes, that is so. I drank in their inns, talked with their folk, and bartered my hunting good with them. And then what did they do? They provided shelter and aid to confessed and acknowledged traitors in their homes."
"And for that, they deserve to burn?" Jullon said, agreeing with Banefort.
"Nah, Hill is right. If they betray their King, death is the only just response!" Roger said, agreeing with Arraon.
"Perhaps, but, Jaime…what would your father do?" Jullon again asked.
"You should direct that question to my father, ser. I don't know his mind, nor do I particularly care to. Besides, what are we even doing here?"
"Our purpose here is to root out the Brotherhood, my Lord." Quentyn said.
"So, why do we not just take this force and root out who we can find? Those harbouring the Brotherhood can be punished and those who do not will be let go."
"Ser Arthur has forbidden it." Arraon replied.
"Ser Arthur? Ser Arthur Dayne?! The Sword of the Morning? He's here?!" Jaime said in an almost breathless way. He couldn't really believe it. He had heard countless stories of Ser Arthur, and always wanted to just meet him. It would have been a dream come true for Jaime, and now he was within distance of him. He wondered if he was as impressive as the legends had built him up to be.
"Aye, milord, Ser Morningstar is leadin' the mission to root out 'is Royal Grace's enemies. If 'ed ever get back to us on that it is, milord."
"What's he blabbing on about?" Jaime asked his brother.
"Ser Arthur has been charged with leading the operation against the Kingswood in the absence of Ser Gerold due to his injuries but whenever Knights and loyal subjects turn up at King's Landing to assist in this matter, he simply turns them away from the Forrest and sticks them in this camp. Instead, he meets with the smallfolk leaders and takes their grievances to the King. If we take anything, we must pay it back. And never can we garrison their property except by their own consent. Ser Arthur is perhaps one of the greatest men you could ever meet, Jaime, but this whole enterprise is a waste of bloody time." Arraon responded.
"How can you say that? Only a couple moons ago, the outlaw Ulmer who assaulted Her Grace was turned over to Ser Arthur by those who were previously hiding him as the King agreed to stop the poaching of their farmlands." Julian added.
"And had their Homestead burned, Ulmer and Traitors both would have been perished."
"And how many innocents are you prepared to let suffer until we find just one of these outlaws?" Julian asked.
"As many as it takes. Don't you agree father would have done that, Jaime?" Arraon asked.
"As I said, I don't know father's mind. Why don't you ask him?"
"That might be a bit difficult at the minute milord." Drack said.
"Why?"
"The Lord Hand left the Capital for Riverrun more than ten moons ago. Urgent business in the Riverlands, I suppose." Jullon explained.
"Did he say why?" Jaime inquired.
"Have you ever known our Father to explain anything he didn't need to?"
"No, I suppose not. And either way, I wouldn't know what he would do. Point me to what needs killing, and I'll do that for you. Leave these questions about…honour and efficiency to Maesters, and politicians and such. Doesn't matter to me." Was all the response they were going to get from Jaime. And it was the truth. He would fight the enemies of his House and his King, but beyond that, why he fought them was of no concern to him. Defending his Family was all that would ever matter to him, and little else beyond that.
Arraon simply laughed and patted him on the back. "Gods, you haven't changed a bit, have you?" The two brothers shared a laugh over that. The others there may have looked at them curiously but it hardly mattered in Jaime's eyes. But he couldn't wait to get away from these dull eyed miscreants and properly catch up with Arraon on how life in the capital had been –
Just then, Jaime's thoughts on the matter and their smiles were interrupted by the Lions who had stopped playing and were growling…growling at the trees as it happens. It was a low, guttural noise that the two of them made at the trees of the Kingswood that bordered the camp.
"What is it, boy? Daemon, come." Arraon said, trying to reason with him but it was no good as without warning, the albino creature leapt off its haunches and into the woods, with Dagger firm on his heels, both of them letting out an almighty roar each that sent their entire group, in addition to all the men around them into an absolutely stunned silence. For that time, and what seemed like the deepest of moments, Jaime sat there staring into the darkness of the woods wandering what kind of animal or prey had inspired the two of them to launch off like that together.
And then they heard it. An almighty, ringing scream amid the sound of tearing and gnashing. It barely lasted a minute but its echoes must have left those trees and reached every one of the King's troops in the camp. At the same time, there was an equally deafening scream. This one lasted much less than the first, but it sent ravens and crows out of the trees and flying over them with the greatest speed. And after that, for what would be the last peace and quiet of that night, the entire camp stood still as statues on the realisation that these two lions had just entered the woods and murdered two unsuspecting bystanders. And then all that ended.
"We've been discovered!" Came one voice from the Trees. And Jaime understood what Dagger and Daemon had done. They had not killed two unsuspecting farmers or traveller – they had foiled an ambush.
"It's the Brotherhood! To Arms, men! To arms!" Corren declared as Quentyn picked up a horn and blew sounding the alarm.
"Never mind the plan now! Loose! Loose! LOOSE!"
And just like that, a flurry of arrows came out of the Forrest. Jaime and Arraon had the sense to drop down before then, but not all of their company were so lucky. Taking a glance around, Jaime saw that Roger had an arrow lodged in his throat and Corren had been struck down with one in his chest. The former had left no impact on Jaime but by sounding the horn, the latter had helped to save their lives. That he could remember.
Around them, other soldiers suffered a similar fate as the Camp around them rushed into the Woods with swords over their heads and the cries of war upon their lips. Jaime looked around to see Arraon reach below him and pull out his two swords from under the log where they were sitting.
"Jaime," he called out, "Come on! We don't wanna miss all the action!"
"I don't even have a sword, Arraon!" he replied as Arraon pulled one of his own out and placed the hilt before him. Jaime took it eagerly. His swords were of a strange fashion, long and sharp on one edge, thin and as long and straight as a longsword, yet it was also different. Instead of a hilt, there was only a small circle where most swords had a cross guard. The hit was still long enough to grip with both hands, as was Jaime's fashion, yet his brother was also well enough to take one in both hands when he required. Jaime slashed it once or twice in the air. It was fast, very fast, which he considered reasonable when it was much thinner than the Longswords he had been using all his life.
"Impressive, but this must take some getting used to when you use it all the time."
"I don't plan on letting you find out cos I want that sword returned to me in one piece!"
"I shall do my best. Now, let's go find our friends and kill some outlaws." Arraon said as the two of them turned to follow their fellow Knights and soldiers into the Kingswood Forrest. Around them, Jaime could hear the sounds of arrows whizzing through the air, swords clashing and men dying, on either side. He hoped that they were winning at least, though he had no idea. Eventually, they came to a dead end of the Forrest after running for some time, calling out the names of their Lions with the sounds of battle raging further and further away from them.
"I'm starting to think maybe we should have had a plan before we went charging off into the woods without rhyme or reason." Jaime said with a laugh. But then he noticed a shadow lurking behind a tree…and a silver glint behind it as well. Before he had a chance to warn Arraon of what was coming, the figure ran out with his sword pointed straight at him. Jaime did not need to think. He did not hesitate, he did not falter. As he had been taught and trained to do, he swung the sword as hard as he could gripping it with both hands from right to left over his head and towards his neck. It was castle forged steel and cut the Bandit's head off in one clean strike. The head rolled by Arraon's feet and his body fell to its knees, the sword dropping from his hand as the body then collapsed entirely. Both Jaime and Arraon had his blood spatters across their own foreheads.
"Damn fool" was all Jaime though into himself of the man. He looked down at the pathetic waste of life before him, wiping the blood of his face with the sleeve of his tunic. 'Who had he been? What life did he lead? Why did he charge at me? Why did he not defend against my first strike? Why was his footing all wrong? Why do I not care in the slightest?' All these questions and more flashed through Jaime's mind and more as he took one final look at the man and turned around.
"Next time you feel like doing something like that, do me a favour and give me fair warning first." Arraon japed as he too wiped the blood from around his hazel eyes, but instead it ended up looking more like war paint instead. Just then, the two of them heard a very loud, piercing scream ring through the trees again. Not like the regular fighting they could hear, this one was different.
"Or maybe there won't be a next time, milord." Came another voice from the trees. The Lannister brothers looked up to see another series of figures emerge from the Woods around them. There must have been no more than ten, but less than five bore swords. The rest bore clubs and maces and other cobbled peasant weaponry. Arraon and Jaime pressed their backs to one another and raised their swords in a defensive stance.
"Where do all these guys come from?" he asked.
"We are always around such folk like you, highborn scum," one of them spoke surprisingly well for someone who had lost most of his teeth. "You just never care to see us."
Jaime could only laugh. "And you think you are noticed now? All I see are trees and a band of dead men." Jaime responded again with a smile he hoped would intimidate them. Or make them stupid enough to attack. Either suited him.
Fortunately for them, the imbeciles charged. This one had more sense that his former comrade and actually put his sword up in defence of himself. Jaime clashed his sword upon his own and used its force to make him lose balance before gyrating around and thrusting the sword in the man's exposed belly again. His first kill had given him time to consider his opponent's life. Not this one, he was simply another one of the training dummies he had used at Casterly Rock. One of the Squires to test their mettle against him in the Crakehall's courtyard. He was nothing to Jaime, but Jaime was the end to him.
He made no hesitation on grazing across the Forrest floor to his next opponent. A simple wooden club was all he bore. He must have been a man past his fortieth nameday, spring for his age from what Jaime saw of him as the club came crashing down, but one swing of his sword was enough to cut the makeshift weapon in half. As it splintered into pieces before his very eyes, Jaime wasn't sure whether he would burst out laughing from this display and gave the fool a look of utter apathy. He looked as if he would plead for mercy before Jaime and was about to open his mouth when Jaime shoved the sword through his neck, quickly pulling it out again as he collapsed to the ground, choking on his own blood.
He barely had time to process this as he came upon two opponents this time. One wielded a farmer's axe and the other a longsword with a shield fixed upon his other arm. The axe came for his head but Jaime deflected that blow and brought the sword round again to crash upon the shield of the other, knocking him back. He tried to deliver his sword crashing down to distract him but he skipped back a few inches, clearly in possession of training if some sort. Jaime smiled, hoping he had finally found his match for a fight. The axe wielder came back but Jaime casually severed his arm from his body then his head as well. Neither seemed to have been serving him much use.
The Sword wielder seemed upset by this as Jaime smiled again, charging at him this time. He deflected Jaime's first blow again, thrusting forward. Had Jaime been a slower man, the blade would have pierced his heart, but it did not. He easily stepped to the side of it and brought his sword above his head and down again. The attacker blocked with his sword, quickly trying to perform a downward thrust and cut Jaime on his bottom half, but he was too quick again, blocking his lower half and causing the man to stumble from his position. Jaime wasted no time and swept him off his feet, standing on his shield arm and thrusting his sword directly into his Heart.
"There, Arraon," Jaime thought to himself, "Now you can't say I need to work on my footwork anymore." He smiled at the thought before his mind clicked back to the battle and he spun his head back round to his brother. Arraon stood, clashing between two outlaws with what looked like Pickaxes, three lay dead at his feet with broken spears and maces with them. Then one of them nicked Arraon on the arm, allowing them to kick him off his feet and similarly sweep his weapon away. Jaime needed no clearer sign to speed to him as one of the bandits was bringing his feeble excuse of a weapon above his head to finish his brother. Jaime would not let that happen and as soon as he was within distance thrust the sword into his back and bringing his sword down on the other. One defence was all he got as when he tried swinging forward with all his might, Jaime ducked, his sword with him and quickly thrusted into the man's gut, quickly ending their little raiding party.
"I am in your debt, Jaime." Arraon said through bated breaths as Jaime extended a hand and helped him to his feet.
"And I look forward to collecting on that debt very much so." Jaime teased.
"Ah, but you forget. It is a Lannister, not a Hill, that always pays his debts."
That nearly caused Jaime's smile to die then. "Even so, that doesn't mean you get to escape from this without repayment."
"We shall see."
"Now, let's see your first war wound."
Arraon put his cut arm up for examination. "Barely a nick, let alone a wound. Still, the bugger was trying to do serious damage. First time that's ever happened. I…I'm just glad you were here. You always were the better swordsman than me."
"Now, that's not true. You just got unlucky. You could have taken these cretins."
Arraon gave a curt chortle. "Doubtful, if we weren't here together, I'd be dead."
"And the same goes for me. Not that you'll have to worry, you know I'll always have your back."
"I do know."
Jaime was rather enjoying the moment of sentimentality he had not been able to share with his brother for so many years when another scream rang out through the Woods, not and may the Seven would curse Jaime if he didn't recognise it.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me…"
"What?"
"Removing the woods of vermin is really rather beneath the likes of us. Fancy going off to rescue a Lord instead?"
Arraon shrugged. "Can't be any worse than here."
"Good," Jaime smiled," But first…" Jaime muttered as he threw Arraon's own sword back to him and moved over the corpse of the shield bearing warrior and picked up his sword off the corpse. He twirled it around again, familiar with the hilt across the pommel. He respected Arraon's difference in styles but the longsword would always be his weapon of choice.
"Was that necessary?"
"No, not at all. Now, shall we?" Jaime grinned as he cocked his head towards the trees, that would lead them to the source of the scream, which Jaime hoped would not be leading them to his physically inept Master. It was an exhilarating run through the Forrest. Jaime's mind flashed back to his youth. He and Arraon running through the same woods of Casterly Rock, re-enacting the ancient battles of the Kings of the Rock and the Dance of the Dragons in their youth, relaxing beneath the Weirwood tree as they stared up at the stars, playing naked under the waterfall with Cersei and holding hands with her as she held her dress up to be the same speed as him. This was where Jaime was in his element – speed, dynamism, force. He lived for the thrills and rush of life, for what point did it have if not to experience them and so many were unfortunate enough to live in their own village all their lives, toiling away till their own coughs killed them. He could never imagine such a life.
Eventually, they saw the glimpse of firelight and the laughter amid talking and other chatter. Arraon and Jaime snuck up behind two trees, concealing themselves from view. Jaime cocked his head towards the area behind them to indicate that they should get a view. Jaime could see around a campfire there were five figures, obviously the members of the Brotherhood. Sitting on the left hand side of the fire was a slender, fair young woman, with short blonde hair and an archer's garb, leaning over a fire, forcing a poker of some sort into its blazing flames with a prisoner bound by his hands and feet lying by the fire as well.
Jaime could not see his face, but his arse was exposed and he could smell the flesh that still singed from the symbol that was emblazoned upon it. It looked like a deer of some kind, which meant that the woman must have been Wenda the White Fawn, Jaime had heard of her often enough. On the far side of the fire, two hooded archers sat – one with a crossbow, the other a longbow. Jaime could not make out their faces, let alone their identities. But to the right, there was a great hulking figure of a man, giant and fat with his chainmail obviously expanding out and he wielded a great hammer as he stood over…Lord Sumner, Jaime had been right. At that moment, Sumner was clutching his ribs and crying out in pain as the man stood over him interrogating him, regarding the size of the royal force, the strength of their arms and such things,
"Jaime, we just found the victor's purse!" Arraon whispered to him. "That's Big Belly Ben and the White Fawn – they're Toyne's commanders."
"Big Belly Ben? Really? Did they also forsake their imagination when they forsook the King?"
"Who cares? If we get them, the Brotherhood is finished."
"Maybe. But we can't just charge at them now," Jaime observed, looking around. "If we can get it to just the two of them, we can manage them…Can you sneak around and take out those archers? If they get us, we're finished."
"I can do that."
"Ok. I'll wait until you're in position then I'll make a scene over here, get their attention. Then you get those two, and we'll have them finished and rescue Lord Sumner before they know what's even happening."
Arraon nodded and Jaime brought his hand up with three fingers. Then two. Then one. Then none, and motioned for Arraon to go, which he did, as sneakily and slow as possible. Jaime was looking at the archers on the other side, waiting for his brother's approach. But then he heard "Big Belly Ben" kick Lord Sumner in the chest and declare "Pah! I've had enough of this. This Highborn cunt is as fat and useless as that Boar on his shield. Tywin Lannister ain't paying a ransom nor can tell us anything."
"Then stop wasting all our time, smash our skull in and be done with it." Wenda said as she stood up while she pulled the poker out of the fire. Ben seemed to agree as he raised his hammer over his head and prepared to strike. Jaime knew Arraon was not in position, and their whole plan was at risk. Yet if he did not intervene, Lord Sumner would die then and there, and all their efforts would be for nothing then. That made Jaime's choice of action quite clear. He moved out from the tree, quick as a flash with a bandit's sword in his hand and simply said "STOP!" and stood in the clear, open and defiant.
Ben lowered his hammer and slung it over his shoulder. But it was Sumner who spoke first. "Jaime? What are you doing?! Get out of here!" He said, almost yelling at Jaime in a defiant manner.
"Jaime? Wait…" Ben said as he pointed at Jaime, "You. You're Jaime Lannister, aren't you? HA! Never mind some fat old Lord for ransom. We have Terrible Tywin's Golden heir!"
'Terrible Tywin? Do these fools know nothing beyond alliteration?' Jaime thought to himself with a look of disgust. "Yes, I suppose you very well could. But you would have to actually capture me first, wouldn't you? And I'm looking at you – a fat man with bursting armour, a pretty maiden playing at warfare and two men with too much fear to show off their own faces – and I don't feel all that scared at all, to be honest."
"We're the Kingswood Brotherhood, boy. We've sent sterner men than you running." One of the hooded archers stated with a cold sternness to his voice, as they also stood up, while both of them placed their hands on the swords in the scabbards of their sides.
"Yes, the Kingswood alone, which I assume is only because you can't do more than hiding in the trees like the cravens you are. Whereas I am heir to the Westerlands. Why should I fear a band of jumped up cutthroats who don't even understand how much danger they're in, or when doom is staring them right in the face?"
"Ha! You think a boy like you is any threat to the Brotherhood?" Ben said with a dismissive laugh and an assertive tone.
"No." Jaime declared, supressing a smile. "He is." He said as he unveiled a smile.
The fat man had a look of confusion, which was replaced with a look of shock and dread as two swords came out the chests of his hooded friends and they fell down dead, bleeding out of their hearts, revealing Arraon to be standing in their place, an equally devilish smirk dancing across his lips. Jaime had noticed him sneak behind the group, completely oblivious to all of them as they had focused their attention on Jaime. His swords went clean through their hearts in one fell swoop.
Afterwards, Wenda pulled two short daggers out from her side and charged at Arron, plunging at him, but Arraon deflected, swinging one away with his own swords. Jaime's first reaction had been to help his brother, but the roar of Big Belly Ben as he brought his Great hammer down upon him distracted Jaime. They would face one opponent each. Jaime was quick to dodge and bring his sword back around to cut Ben quickly but he was just as quick to deflect again. Jaime's sword was pushing against the handle of Ben's hammer, in a lock, both men pushing at one another.
Jaime tried to push with all his might but whether due to the strength of Ben himself or the force of his hammer, Jaime was unable to break the lock or make it work in his favour so he took a risk and broke the lock and stepped back in the hope that he could make the fool stumble, and thrust forward in that opening, but it didn't work. Ben was just as quick with his feet and stepped forward, Hammer in hand, swinging at Jaime again. Jaime was forced to make more steps again as Ben swung again and again.
Usually, he would have hoped it would have tired him out but Ben was surprisingly spry for a man of his size and could keep up with him. Jaime decided that was the wrong option and simply struck out again, hitting the handle again and again, not allowing him the time to push back, but not enough respite to allow Ben to actually focus on a defence. His blade was ringing against the steel so often he could barely hear himself think. Up and down his sword swung upon Ben's hammer. When he raised it for a final time, he stopped as he noticed that there was still ringing. As did Ben. As did Arraon and Wenda too.
All of them stopped fighting and looked to the immediate path into the Brotherhood's little camp here. Up the path came walking a Knight clad in pure black plate armour, with cruel horns and spikes adoring his shoulder plates and down his abdomen. Across his back flowed with a black cloak that looked to be made of silk. In his hand was a longsword that looked like it glittered, yet it was the purest white. It was a strange blade. It was not like his, with edges and a handle, nor Arraon's blades either. It was a machete, with a flat edge at the top and the handle was wrapped in leather with no separation between blade and grip. One wrong move would cut his own hand.
He was bashing ait repeatedly against a shield, old and splintered with a bloody red smile printed across it. But what drew Jaime's attention to the man more than anything was his face. His short black hair was not anything special but across his face from ear to ear, his face had been peeled off, or so it looked from first glance. But then Jaime got a closer look and realised that was not what had happened at all. He had carved the flesh off the area around his mouth in the shape of a smile. There was no question anymore as to who this was – the Smiling Knight. The fiercest warrior of the Brotherhood.
The Knight walked into the fray of their camp, drawing attention to himself with the repeated pounding of the shield. All twelve eyes were focused on him then. "Well, well, well. What a little show we've got here. Ben, Wenda – why didn't you tell me we were having guests this evening? Have we even offered our friends bread and salt?" He said. His voice disturbed Jaime. It was barely a whisper yet echoed through his ear. It was soft and he could hear it from where he stood. He couldn't wait to make it end.
Before either Lannister brother could even respond, Ben and Wenda moved away from them to stand behind the Smiling Knight. "Why don't you two go and fetch the bread and salt for our guests? In the meantime, I'll make them comfortable." He thought that his real mouth was smiling but in the pool of red that existed across his mouth, it was impossible for Jaime to tell. What he knew was that he was laughing then. He could laugh without moving his head whatsoever. Even looking at him must inspire terror in his weakest foes. It made Jaime uncomfortable.
At that moment, Big Belly Ben and Wenda scarpered off and left Jaime and Arraon staring him down. "You." He said as he pointed his sword at Arraon. "I know you. You're the Hand's son, aren't you? The fearless, incorruptible Lord Tywin Lannister's result of fucking a back alley whore."
"We're both his sons, ser. And if you say another word, I'll lay your head before our Father myself." Arraon said boldly.
The Smiling Knight laughed. "You're funny. The heir and the spare. Your pretty golden heads will look so splendid on my wall."
"Wall?" Said Jaime with a dismissive tone. "I'd say trees is more accurate giving the current living standards of you outlaws."
The Smiling Knight laughed again. "You're funnier. And now you're going to die." As quick as he said that, he jumped at Jaime. He regretted that he was not fast enough to react but it was Arraon who stood in front of him, using both his own swords in an X shape to block the Smiling Knight's own blade. Jaime did not need to be told that time and frisked around the Knight to his other side and attempted to plunge his sword into his side, but he reacted with holding his shield, emblazoned with his repulsive smile, out to block it. "Oh, little lions, this will be a battle to remember."
Then the Smiling Knight broke his attack on Arraon and brought it back to strike Jaime but he deflected as hard as he could. Arraon was doing the same, striking the Knight on his shield. From what Jaime could tell, he was trying to use both swords on different points of the Knight's body but he was far too quick with his shield for Arraon to get a strike in. Jaime tried the same but for a man of his size, his speed and skill was something to behold. Above, below, direct – it didn't matter, Jaime always found his blows blocked with that sword. Till he left himself open and the Knight brought his shield round to smash Jaime in the chest and cause him to stumble and fall to his knees in pain.
Jaime feared that might be the end for him but the Smiling Knight instead focused his attention on Arraon. He circled around again, quicker than Jaime could anticipate and launched flurry and after flurry on his brother. Arraon deflected with one sword in his right hand, then his left, then his right again, as the Smiling Knight used only one, allowing his shield arm to fall down. This process lasted barely a minute. Arraon was a terrific combatant, not as good as Jaime, though he'd never admit it and managed to hold his own. And then Jaime's heart dropped in his chest as the Smiling Knight aimed his sword just right to push Arraon's sword away and cut down just as quickly, causing his sword to fall to the ground as he bled. Arraon's natural reaction was to bring his hand to his chest to stop the bleeding but this allowed the Smiling Knight to bring his shield back up and smash Arraon in the face, causing him to fall down as well. He brought his sword up and prepared to bring it down and end his brother…
And probably would have as well if the whinny of a Horse had not distracted all parties involved. It was a chestnut mare, from what Jaime could tell. Nothing special about it, but what Jaime did notice was the rider she bore. He was handsome, with a square jaw and curly deep brown hair that fell around his shoulders and blew in the breeze. His armour was the strongest kind of plate armour, white as snow – the same colour as his pure, white cloak that billowed after him. In his hand was a strange sword, it was as pale as the moonlight above them all and yet it still shone like the Sun when the warrior wielded it in his hands.
He came galloping into the area, past Jaime and swung his sword down at the Smiling Knight, distracting him away from Arraon. The Knight turned around on his horse and looked the Smiling Knight straight in the face. "Ah, Ser Arthur, how good to see you again. Have you been well?" And Jaime wanted to kick himself for not recognising him – it was Ser Arthur Dayne – the Sword of the Morning! Jaime could barely believe his eyes. He was looking at one of the greatest warriors in the Seven Kingdoms…and was clenching his stomach in pain. Fortunately, Ser Arthur seemed to have other priorities on his mind.
"I do not know you…Ser," Arthur looked as if he was spitting the word out. "You disgrace the name of Knight with the debauchery you and your brothers have committed these past months."
The Smiling Knight laughed once again. "That is hilarious, Ser. Everyone in my village always said I was the funniest little shit alive, but they never met you. The mindless, obedient, servant of a sister fucking madman comes to ME to lecture me on honour? How can you make any such claim?"
"I serve my King, Ser. What of you?"
"I serve my Brothers. My Brothers of the Kingswood."
"Then you shall meet them, Ser." Arthur announced as he raised a sword.
"Oh, that's not very fair, is it? You have that horse and I only have my feet, Ser Bodyguard."
"Correct." Ser Arthur declared, as he dismounted his steed, with his sword – Dawn, Jaime believed it was called – and matched the Smiling Knight on his feet. "Have you any other requests, Ser?"
"Aye, that sword of yours, now you're asking. I'd like it very much," he said. The Smiling Knight laughed once again.
Ser Arthur gave a curt smile and brought Dawn up to his face, then down by his side, slowly, before raising Dawn and pointing it at the Smiling Knight and declaring "Then you shall have it, ser."
The Smiling Knight charged at Ser Arthur and he simply batted him away with Dawn, standing still as a statue. The Smiling Knight bound back again and thrust forward but Ser Arthur deflected once again, unmoving. A third time, the Smiling Knight raised his sword over his head and tried to strike Arthur but he blocked again. It was amazing. He had been able to stand toe to toe with this monster and he had barely even broken a sweat. This time, however, the Knight tried to force Dawn to give way to the force of his strike but Arthur was unbending in his resolve and held the Smiling Knight's sword in his place as he pulled his other arm back and thrust into the Knight's Chest, sending him back stumbling, before Ser Arthur kicked him down to the ground, pointing a blade to his throat.
"Yield, Ser." The Smiling Knight grabbed his blade with his hand and escaped that position, grabbing his sword again and thrusting again, preferring quick strikes again. Jaime could not tell how many times he tried to get past. Dawn shone brighter and brighter with every strike and even Ser Arthur could not stay in his unbending, unmoving position. The Smiling Knight even got past Dawn once or twice to Ser Arthur's own armour.
At that point, the Sword of the Morning started getting far more aggressive and began thrusting Dawn forward. The Smiling Knight managed to attack and defend himself in equal measure. Jaime considered himself exclusively blessed to be witness to this. The dance of Ser Arthur's swordplay was a miracle to behold, it was as if he knew everywhere he was going to try and hit, and brought Dawn up to defend himself before that. Yet when he struck out, he did so with the full force and fury he could muster, while also having the grace and elegance that befitted one of the realm's greatest Knights.
Eventually, Ser Arthur beat his sword away, and gave him a clean space where the Smiling Knight could not defend, and brought Dawn clean down, severing the Smiling Knight's hand from the rest of his arm. Jaime thought he would scream. Doubtless Ser Arthur thought he would too. But the Smiling Knight just laughed. Laughed as the blood came leaking out his bleeding arm as his sword fell from his hand too.
Ser Arthur stood back then. "I apologise for maiming you, Ser. That was dishonourable of me. But yield now and I will show you mercy."
"Never." The Knight proclaimed as he grabbed his sword with his other hand, clearly untrained and unused to it, hacking wildly away at Ser Arthur as he wafted it away like an inconvenient insect. Then Ser Arthur, perhaps by accident by the looks of it, thrust forward so far he went through his heart, clean and efficient. He looked at Ser Arthur and dropped his sword clean to the ground. Jaime thought he might make some noise or beg for mercy at least. He did not. The Smiling Knight laughed for the last time in his life, as Ser Arthur pulled Dawn out, and he fell to the ground, lifeless and dead.
Ser Arthur looked sad almost. Jaime couldn't understand why he would feel that way about putting a rabid animal like the Smiling Knight down when he was a man of honour and valour himself. He wiped the blood on his own white cloak and sheathed Dawn in his scabbard. Then he moved over to Jaime and asked "Are you alright, boy?" as he extended a hand.
"Y…y…yes, Ser Arthur," Jaime replied as he took the hand and pulled himself to his feet.
"Help that one out of his binds…and pull his breeches up." Ser Arthur commanded. Jaime looked over and saw the squire, or so he assumed he was, that had the Fawn branded on his arse. In all the excitement, Jaime had quite forgotten he was there. He moved over and used his sword to cut the bonds. He attempted to help him to his feet but he pushed Jaime away, quickly pulling his breeches up. Then Jaime got a look at him.
"Merrett? Is that you?"
"Augh! Get away from me, Lannister filth!" Merrett said ad he pushed, Jaime away and ran away, his hands still pulling his breeches up as he frantically scurried off and whimpered out of sight.
'A "Thank You" would have sufficed.' Jaime thought to himself as he turned his attention to the rest of the group and moved over beside Arraon. "Hill, Lord Crakehall, Are you alright?"
"Yes, Ser Arthur, thank you ever so much I-" Crakehall began but was interrupted by the running of two animals into the camp – the Pendric Lions, Dagger and Daemon coming in to their masters. Jaime bent down and ruffled the Lion's hair, cooing and praising him for his bravery as he noticed the blood around his mouth. Dagger was growing old now. He wasn't the pup he and Arraon had brought to Casterly Rock one night. Larger than any dog, by far. He would have been able to be half as tall as Jaime on his hind legs, perhaps taller. His mane was long and flowing and his eyes were golden as well. Jaime wondered if this would be the extent of his growth, or if he would grow larger still.
"Fantastic beast of yours, Jaime." Ser Arthur observed.
"You…know me, Ser?"
"A giant lion, golden hair, renowned swordsman – wasn't that hard to figure out. I am indebted to you, though. That animal of yours saved my life, and more besides."
"Really?"
"Yes. Ser Barristan and I were escorting Lady Swann away when the Brotherhood fell upon us – Simon Toyne, the Smiling Knight, Oswyn Longneck and 20 of his best men. Well, they were his best until these two fell upon them. Yours used his claw to tear the sword off one of their hands and took a chuck out of Longneck's chest before his neck. And their roars were a thing to behold. Those that didn't die fled into the Woods. Only 5 stood with Toyne and that Knight, allowing Ser Barristan to end Toyne's life with a single swing of the sword. The Smiling Knight fled into the Woods and I pursued him."
"Why did they attempt such an attack? Why gamble all their leaders and resources?" Arraon asked.
"The Brotherhood has lost all its support. Their Farmers were turning them away, trusting in the King's forces instead. And after Ulmer was sent to the Wall, they didn't have much hope left anymore. What I would guess is that they attacked the camp to seize as many highborn hostages as they could, in an attempt to ransom their own freedom. And if it hadn't have been for House Lannister, they may have succeeded." Ser Arthur replied. Arraon should have been considerate of the praise but they both knew what Ser Arthur had been saying. This was only possible because they trusted the King's forces out of Ser Arthur's actions instead, and had they done as Father would have, their resolve in the defence of the Brotherhood may only have multiplied. He wondered if Arraon felt the same.
"What of the Brotherhood now? Big Belly Ben and the White Fawn escaped." Lord Sumner pointed out
"It makes no matter. Toyne held the Order together – without him, they will falter, splinter and fail. I will lead patrols through the woods with Ser Gerold when he has recovered. The King's Peace will be restored soon enough. But tell me, Lord Sumner. What happened here? I see the Skull Brothers lie slain. Is this your work?"
And then Lord Sumner recounted all that he could remember – how Jaime had stepped in to defend him, how Arraon had killed the Archers Brothers, how the two of them had fought off and fought the Smiling Knight as well. "Truly?" Ser Arthur asked as he looked at Jaime and Arraon and they nodded, to confirm Lord Sumner's story.
"Then Lord Crakehall, you shall stand as witness. Jaime Lannister, Arraon Hill – kneel." They did so. Mimicking their actions, Daemon and Dagger lowered their paws and heads on either side of their masters. Then Ser Arthur drew Dawn out of its sheath and placed it before him in the dirt, both hands upon the pommel as it shone with its strange pale light. Jaime hoped he knew what was about to happen. The moment he had been waiting for all his life – his Knighthood.
"Jaime, son of Tywin of House Lannister, do you swear in the eyes of gods and men to defend the innocent, to obey your liege lord, and your king, Aerys Targaryen, the Second of his Name, as a Knight of the Realm? Do you swear to fight bravely in the name of Justice and Righteousness, and to fulfil all oaths and tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be, as a Servant of the Gods?"
"I do, Ser. In the sight of Gods and Men, I so swear."
Then Ser Arthur placed his sword on Jaime's left shoulder. "In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just." Then lifted Dawn and placed the other side on his right shoulder "In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent." Left. "In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave." Right. "In the name of the Smith, I charge you to be Strong." Left. "In the name of the Maid, I charge you to defend all women." Right. "In the name of the Crone, I charge you to be Wise." Left. "In the name of the Stranger, I charge you to be prepared for death in the name of upholding your vows."
Then he moved to Arraon and repeated the vows. Then before he could move on Arraon made a motion to Daemon on the other side of him and Ser Arthur smiled, placing his sword on one of Daemon's shoulders, and then the other announcing "Arise Ser Daemon – Servant of the Gods and Knight of the Realm."
Then he moved to Arraon. "Arise Ser Arraon Hill – Servant of the Gods and Knight of the Realm."
Then to Jaime. "Arise Ser Jaime Lannister – Servant of the Gods and Knight of the Realm."
And finally, "Arise Ser Dagger – Servant of the Gods and Knight of the Realm." Then Ser Arthur placed Dawn back in his sheath and all four of the new Knights arose.
"So, we're Knights now?" Arraon asked.
Ser Arthur mounted his Horse, which had stayed remarkably still during the battle and aftermath. "Not officially, no. You must stand vigil in a sept before that is done in the eyes of the Gods. Owing to your Family and Station, we can allow this to be done in the Great Sept by the High Septon himself. But that will be for another day. For now, in the eyes of men at least, you are Knights. Now come, I shall escort you all to the Red Keep."
And so he did. They did not say a word to one another on the way back, past Knights and soldiers bearing the King's colours taking prisoners and clearing the bodies, onto the Kingsroad for the shorty journey back to the Capital, through the streets of King's Landing and the slum of Flea Bottom where the Peasants cheered Ser Arthur as they passed by, acknowledging him as a hero. He did not know what he could say. Their dream since childhood were finally realised – they had become Knights and joined in the ranks of their heroes of old; Ser Galladon of Morne, Aemon the Dragonknight, Ser Serwyn of the Mirror Shield, the Cargyll twins and Duncan the Tall.
Well, they just had to get everyone else in the Kingdoms to recognise the fact that they were greater than them that is. But even then, when they had been dubbed by the greatest Knight living, Ser Arthur Dayne, and had the right to be addressed as 'Ser,' to finally be above the likes of Merrett Frey, it didn't matter. All he could think of right now was Cersei. To tell her of everything that had happened, to show her his accomplishments. In truth, he feared what happened next. Father would dispatch him to Casterly Rock and he'd be married to some Highborn Maid without Cersei's fire, without her curves, without her long golden hair. Even the thought made Jaime nauseous.
By the time he got to the Red Keep, his mind was made up. Arraon invited him to drink with some friends in some hall or other but Jaime declined. He only asked for directions to Cersei's chambers. Arraon gave him a smile, told him where and then bid him farewell. Jaime followed the directions he was given him. He guessed it was accurate given the number or red cloaks he started to see. Eventually, he came to a door he guessed was hers and turned to Dagger who had been clipping at his heels.
"You, stay." Dagger just cocked his head and gave a whine. "Because I say so. Now – down." He obeyed after that and he trusted would tell Jaime if anyone would come by. Jaime knocked on the door and came back the answer "Who is it now?!" No doubt most dismissed her voice as that of a bitch. To Jaime, she was just fiery.
"Guess who." He replied as he heard the door open and there she stood. Her dress was white as snow and almost see through. She looked about ready for bed and the anger that had been on her face turned to pure love.
"…Jaime? Is that you?" She asked.
"The one and only." He replied as she pulled him into her room, shutting the door behind him and pushing Jaime against the wall, locking her mouth onto his. He had missed her. Missed caressing her face, feeling the softness of her hair, feeling her lips upon his and their tongues in one another's mouths. Jaime had been used to being the one that dominated that exchange, but Cersei seemed hungrier for it than she had been. Then, just as quickly, without warning, she broke it and looked at Jaime – green eyes into matching green as she ran her fingers through his hair.
"I…I missed you." She said through a smile, as Jaime pulled her into an embrace.
"We have no time for that now." Cersei said as she broke it off and moved further into her room.
"No time? Cersei, I've waited all these years, training at the Crakehall under that oaf while Father shipped you off to this shitpile of a city. Why –"
"Father is going to marry you off to Lysa Tully." Cersei said bluntly.
Jaime had to admit that left him speechless. Lysa Tully, the second Tully child of Lord Hoster but only because the Stark Heir to Winterfell had the eldest hand first. Caitlyn or Cheyenne or something, seemed quite besotted with her own betrothed. As did Lysa, now Jaime thought about it, though not for Jaime. He only had a fortnight to meet them when he was sent to Riverrun. He never knew why Lord Sumner had done that, now he guessed he did. She had been a terribly demure girl, even if Jaime had been interested. Ser Blackfish's War stories were much more engaging than some auburn girl who could never compare to his sister.
"Tully? How do you know this?"
"I have my ways. It doesn't matter either way. What does matter is that this can't happen. You don't belong with some Riverlands Slut, you belong here," she said as she pressed her soft hand to Jaime's cheek, "here, with me, Jaime. Don't we belong together?"
Jaime pressed his own hand on hers. "Of course but if Father has decreed it, it will be so. What can we do? I want nothing more than to stay with you, the only bright part of this city but now that I'm a Knight, father will send me back home to Casterly Rock to marry her and…"
"Wait…you're a Knight?" Cersei said as she took her hand away.
"Well, I've yet to take the oils but Ser Arthur had me named on the Battlefield, yes." And then he saw it in her eyes. That scheming look when she was coming up with a plan and Jaime never knew when to be excited or terrified.
"I know how you can stay in the city, Jaime. With me."
"How?"
"Join the Kingsguard." She said, bluntly.
"The Kingsguard? Stand on duty for the Mad King? Be his sword and shield every minute of the day? How will this help anyone? Father will never agree to it."
"Because Father has pressed my marriage to Rhaegar for weeks now. He'll marry me to Rhaegar's son if needs be. And now that Ser Harlan died fighting the Brotherhood, there's an opening. So if you were a Kingsguard…your place would be here. You'd be free of that drab redhead and here with me."
"No."
"No?" Cersei spat at him.
"I…I can't. Not this."
"Can't or won't. Is pleasing Father so important to you? Is that bloody Rock so important to you over me?"
"No. It's Arraon."
"Arraon? The bastard? What does he have to do with this?"
"The Kingsguard has been his dream, his ambition, since we were babes, Cersei. I won't steal that from him."
"So he's more important to you than me? It's always been that way – the bastard, the dwarf, father, they'll always be more important to you than me. I have never seen why –" Jaime grabbed her and kissed her again, deeply.
"You know no one is more important to you than me, Cersei. We came into this world together. You know how I feel."
"Then prove it to me," Cersei said as she moved closer to him, placing her hands around his neck, "Prove to me how you feel and let me make the arrangements for you to be named."
"But-"
"And if Arraon will be a problem, he can be named to it as well one day. Serve together, if you must – but we are what matters. You and me, here, together. I want nothing more. And all you need to answer is one question, Jaime – What do you want, Jaime? Do you want to appease Father? Or do you want me? Do you want to do your duty, or do you want me? Do you want to please Arraon, or do you want me?" as she was speaking she took Jaime's hand and placed it upon her breast and allowed him to touch her, as he never had even when they were children, "Jaime; is it a Rock you want? Or me?" She asked as she looked straight into his eyes.
But he did not need convincing – Jaime had already made up his mind.
Author's Note
Wow. I was not intending this to be so long, certainly not my longest chapter. Got carried away I guess. :D
I commend everyone reading this who went through the whole thing, I really appreciate it. But the next chapter will not be so long, I know that. And from now, Coursework will be piling on so prepare for a long period of no uploads, but I do try for weekly updates. Sorry in advance. :\
Nevertheless, I appreciate everyone who reads and reviews. As always, Thou art my inspiration. Until next time, TTYL!