Chapter Twenty-Five

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Melara's eyes drifted closed as she sat safely in Jaime's arms atop his steed. The horse's gait was fast but smooth, soothing Melara into a light sleep. When her eyes closed it seemed to Melara that days had passed, but as the horse was pulled from a canter to a walk and her eyes opened, she could tell from the sun it couldn't have been more than an hour since they departed Winterfell.

"We have a good start on them." Melara turned her tired eyes upon her husband, still not fully believing she was with him again. He did not look at her but kept his wits sharp and continually shifted his eyes, watching for any sign of danger. "But it will not be enough. They will find us if we aren't careful."

"They?"

"Yes, they. I'm not sure just who 'they' will be. I'm sure that Robb Stark will send a few men, Lady Stark might even lead the charge herself." Jaime dropped his gaze down to his wife for only a second before looking back in front of him again. "She really does enjoy when I am in captivity. Now that I am free, for the second time, she will not be happy about that. Then again, Lady Brienne won't be too happy I've gone and left her. I do think she will be a bit upset with me when she awakens. And of course that terrible Red Woman will—." Jaime stopped short when he heard Melara's sudden, sharp intake of breath. He looked at her, studying her every detail as if it would be the last time he would look upon her face. Melara stared back at him with tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

"King Stannis is…dead."

"Yes."

"My…Father…is dead."

"Yes, Sweet Girl." Jaime wanted to look away from her as her tears spilled over and the first sob escaped her lips. It was not as if he had expected Melara to dance with joy upon hearing of her father's passing, but Jaime didn't think she would shed tears given what Stannis's last words to his daughter were. What will she do when I tell her? Jaime remained silent, knowing that any words he spoke in that moment would only bring more tears. The Kingslayer was learning when to hold his tongue, but only when it was for his sweet wife.

Melara could not stop hearing every word that Stannis had said to her during their last argument. Was is only just yesterday when he struck me and then held me close? What did he mean when he told me he never wanted any of this for me? What did he want for me? Melara did not understand why her mind was torturing her with questions that she now would never know the answers to. But one question that burned in her mind, she would be able to have an answer.

"How?" Jaime urged his horse into a trot, his hold tightening on Melara instinctively. He had hoped that she would not yet ask him how, that she would not care to know how the man who would march her straight to her own murder had died. "Jaime?"

"Not here, love. I will tell you everything, answer any questions you may have…but not here. Not until we are safe."

"Oh, Jaime. We will never truly be safe." Jaime agreed with Melara, but instead of responding he urged his horse faster, willing the beast to take them away from the danger that surely lurked behind them.

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Winterfell had, once again, been thrown into chaos. As the rumors of Stannis's death flowed through the halls on the wind, all of the inhabitants had become increasingly uneasy. No one had been allowed near the King's room, or the room that had been Melara's. Each person had a tale to tell, and each person was eager to listen.

"—heard that the elder one got Greyscale from the younger one—"

"—Red Woman has him locked up—"

"—Boltons are both gone—"

"—haven't heard the cries of the babes—"

"—Stark had his men kill our King—"

Robb heard his name cross many lips as he made his way through the halls and to Stannis's bed chamber. When he had met Stannis just the day before, they had a fierce discussion about their next move. This ended in Stannis storming from the room because of Robb's wish to remain in the North. Now that Stannis was dead, he knew the Baratheon men would believe that Robb had slain Stannis in order to break his oath to see Stannis put on the Iron Throne. The closer he traveled to Stannis's room, the more guards he discovered. Robb's own guards remained close and their King's side, ready to defend him should the need arise. As Stannis's door came into his view, Robb watched as Melisandre closed the door behind her. She turned to him, her demeanor not giving away that any of the rumors were true.

"I'm sorry but King Stannis is not receiving anyone today." Melisandre did not move from her place in front of the door, even as Robb came closer. "Forgive me, my King, but—"

"You have never called me 'your King', my Lady. Why start now?"

"Are you not King of the North? Are we not in the North?" Melisandre let a smile cross her lips as she took a small step forward, her hands coming to rest on Robb's forearms. "What would you have me call you if not 'my King'?"

"'Your Grace', will do fine, my Lady." Robb shifted his body enough that Melisandre's hands fell from him, no longer near enough to touch him. "Now, I am requesting a meeting with Stannis. Today." Robb lowered his voice, his head tipping forward slightly to keep the guards from hearing. "If he is truly dead, I will need to offer protection to his daughters, his wife and you, my Lady. Lies and riddles have no place in Winterfell. Speak neither to me while you are in my home, and you may survive." Robb gave Melisandre a nod before turning his back on her and walking away in the direction from where he had come.

When Robb was out of her sight, Melisandre turned and entered Stannis's bed chamber once more. The windows had all been sealed and the only light came from the glow of the many lit torches that now lined the walls. The Red Woman slowly moved through the room, taking her time to run her hands along the back of the chairs and the top of the table. Her gaze strayed from one torch to another, the flames dancing in her eyes as she made her way to the bed where Stannis was laid.

"My King." Melisandre stood at the foot of the bed, her hands laying on Stannis's booted feet. "It seems that you were not honest and true with me. Nor with the Lord of Light." She moved around the side of the bed, her fingers dancing along Stannis's leg, moving to his torso before she arrived at the head of the bed and placed her hands on Stannis's still bloody neck. She gently caressed the open wound and she bent down to place a soft kiss to Stannis's forehead. Melisandre knelt on the floor next to the bed, laying her head on the pillow with her lips near her King's ear. Her voice was kept to a whisper as she spoke, her eyes falling closed. "This is your punishment, my King, but my reward. The power of a King's blood grows with their death." Melisandre lifted her fingers, coated in blood, and opened her eyes to see the deep red liquid drip back onto Stannis. "Your death will be avenged, my King. Your enemies will pay, for I have seen it in the flames."

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Brienne let out a soft groan as she slowly became conscious. The silence in the room told her that Jaime Lannister was not in their room turned prison, and the ache in her head made her assume that Jaime had decided a change of plans was in order. She slowly opened her eyes, noticing the amount of light that came through the single window and judging that it was near mid-morning. Brienne slowly pushed her body from the ground, her joints cracking in protest at being moved, and simply sat for a moment to get her bearings. She took in the state of the room with a seriously look on her face, noting that they had nearly destroyed everything in an attempt to get the guards to open the door and stop their fight.

Jaime must have realized after the fourth broken piece of furniture that nothing would make the guards open the door. Brienne could tell from the lump that was sure to sprout on her head that he had made a new plan without informing her. Typical Kingslayer. Brienne could only assume that whatever Jaime had changed their plan to, that it had not worked since she was still being kept as a prisoner. She pushed herself to stand, closing her eyes tightly as the blood pounded behind her eyes. As her body became accustomed to the waking world, Brienne couldn't help but curse Jaime Lannister and hope that she would see him, if only once more, to repay the throbbing she was feeling from the blow he had dealt.

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Melara and Jaime traveled for many hours in near silence until Ryam awoke, shortly followed by Joseth waking as well. Jaime slowed his horse and dismounted, steadying Melara so that she would not lose her balance and fall from their steed. He quickly took hold of Melara and gently guided her body to stand before him, their sons safely held between them. Jaime took hold of Joseth, the quieter of the two babes, and held him close as Melara offeedr Ryam her breast. They had been traveling through the thick of a forest, as Jaime felt it safer to avoid the King's Road, and they did not need to hide. As they stood surrounded by nothing but trees, Jaime took a moment to relax. He let out a huff of air as he watched the peaceful look that fell on Melara's face. The noise caught her attention, and Melara lifted her gaze from Ryam to look at Jaime.

"Did you fight your way from your room?" Melara shifted Ryam into one arm and she lifted her free hand to Jaime's temple, softly caressing the bruised flesh. "Your face will swell more still, no one will recognize you."

"Good. We don't need to be recognized. We have Lady Brienne to thank for my…disguise."

"Brienne?" Melara pulled her hand back to support Ryam. "So you were released into her charge."

"Your doing, I suppose? However did you manage that one?" Jaime took a step forward and placed a quick kiss to Melara's forehead, careful of the infants in both their arms. "Never mind. It really isn't important, is it? Not right now." He placed another kiss to Melara's forehead, then another to her temple. Melara turned her head to face him, allowing Jaime to capture her lips with his own in a gentle kiss. When they parted, Melara had a worried look on her face.

"Jaime, where will we go?"

"You mean tonight? We will ride through until we need to stop for food."

"I mean tonight and the night after and every night that follows." Melara looked from Joseth, content and drifting back to sleep in Jaime's arms, to Ryam whose eyes were closed while he nursed. "If it were you and I alone we could ride for days, we could survive without a fire at night in the North. But our sons cannot." Jaime knew that Melara spoke the truth, but also knew that if they stopped for the night it would mean less distance between them and Winterfell.

"We are still far in the North, any shelter we find will lead us back to Winterfell. By now ravens and messengers have been sent out, and I'm sure that scouts are not far behind." Melara nodded her head, but a frown fell upon her lips. Joseth began to fuss, and Melara started to unlatch Ryam in order to feed his brother. The boys had gotten much bigger from the last that Jaime had seen them, but Joseth was still smaller than Ryam. Jaime switched babes with Melara, and the pair remained in silence as the smaller babe ate his fill. After he had finished nursing, Melara handed Joseth to Jaime to relieve her aching arms.

Melara walked a few steps away, stretching her arms and legs as she slowly walked. Each step she took brought a new image, a new though to her mind. The words her father had spoken to her still rang in her mind. I never wanted this for you. Melara closed her eyes, imaging what her life would now be. It would be a life on the run, a life without family. It would be hard and terrifying and risky. It will be too much. How we will live like this? Melara opened her eyes, staring in the direction in which they came. The snow covered trees danced in the slight wind but the path before her was calm. There is still time to go back. Melara felt a weakness overcome her mind, but only for a moment. What will I go back to? There is nothing for me in that life now. Melara turned back to face Jaime, watching him stand before her with their sons in his arms. He stood silently watching her, and Melara hoped that he would never know her weak thoughts. After all he has done to get here with me. How could I ever break out family apart? She smiled then, not sure if she was happy or if she simply wanted to see Jaime smile at her.

"I trust you, Jaime. Do what you think is best for our family." Jaime smiled at his wife as she moved closer to him, knowing that soon he would need to tell her everything about their escape. But for now, we will enjoy our peace. He allowed Melara to once again take hold of their sons as he led the horse to a tall tree stump. Melara stood atop the stump as Jaime mounted then they carefully managed to get her seated back in his arms, their sons once again nestling into Melara's chest. Jaime removed his heavy cloak and Melara used it as a blanket to keep the cold from touching the babes.

They rode in that manner throughout the day, stopping for a short rest only when the babes called for milk. Jaime and Melara ate bits of bread and drank water from a flash sparingly, neither knowing when they would next find food or more water. When they arrived at the edge of the woods, the sun had sunk low in the sky. Jaime brought his horse to a walk and they slowly made their way into the clearing. Jaime saw smoke rising in the distance and hesitated at moving any closer. He pulled his horse to a halt and carefully dismounted. Jaime helped Melara to sit in the saddle before taking hold of the reins and leading his horse slowly closer. He noticed the way the beast's movements had slowed and he doubted the horse would make it through another day of travel without rest.

"We must be on the outskirts of House Cerwyn's lands. The smoke is too small to come from anything but a farmer's hearth." Jaime continued to lead the horse as dusk began to fall. "I may have to kill whoever lives here so that we may have shelter for the night." Jaime braced himself for Melara's protests, but was surprised to hear none. He continued to bring them closer, a small cottage barely visible in the distance. When they were close enough to the farm to be stopped by a wooden fence, Jaime turned to Melara, narrowing his eyes in order to see her face. "Stay here while I pay a visit to these land owners."

Jaime helped Melara to dismount, tying the horse's reins to the fence even knowing that the beast would not try to run. He took a pair of daggers from one of the packs on the saddle before climbing over the fence and running towards the small dwelling. It seemed like hours had begun to pass as Melara anxiously waited for any sign of Jaime's return. She prayed to every God that would listen that he would return to her and he would not have killed innocent people. She rocked her sons in the hope that they would remain silent as the darkness consumed her with the setting of the sun. Melara was finally able to see a torch in the distance making its way towards her. She heard Jaime calling to her, and she wasted no time responding.

Once he made it back to her, Jaime helped his wife to get to the other side of the fence before taking his saddle and bridle from his horse. Melara questioned how they would survive if he abandoned his horse, to which he responded that the beast would not make it another day. Melara followed Jaime through the snow as they made their way to the cottage, her carrying the babes and him carrying the saddle and packs while leading the way with the torch. When they were close enough to the door, Melara could make out an elderly woman standing in the doorway tightly wrapped in furs.

"Come quick, now, before I change my mind." The old woman's voice was friendly but she had a sharp look to her that made Melara pick up her pace behind Jaime. He walked through the threshold with Melara close behind, the old woman closing the door tightly behind them. "Put your packs in the room to the left, boy." Jaime bit his tongue and did as he was told, leaving Melara alone with the old woman for a moment.

"Thank you for your kindness, Lady…?" The old woman turned her eyes onto Melara and snorted before moving to sit in a chair near the fire.

"Not a Lady, just call me Old Crone. Any that step through my door call me that. Only two men have called me different and they've passed on." The crone's hair had completely grayed and her face wore many wrinkles but Melara was surprised to see the spark still shining in the woman's green eyes. "This damn war took both my husband and my son."

"This war nearly took my own husband and sons, if not for your kindness this night I feel that the cold would have took our sons' lives." Melara caught Jaime's eye from across the room as he gave her a slight nod, a silent urge to continue to spin a tale for the crone. "I am not sure what my husband has told you…oh, I am not even sure I should say anything. It may be safer for both of us." The crone, who stood nearly as tall as Melara, came close to the young woman.

"Girl, listen to me. I've been alone in this damn place for months without another soul knocking at my door. Tell me or don't, either way no one else will hear." The old woman placed a slightly shaking hand on Melara's arm. "But indulging an old woman with a story for the night would be kind."

The crone gave Melara a crooked smile before she turned and slowly made her way to a chair near the fire. Jaime walked towards Melara, his hands now empty and waiting to receive his sons. During the walk, Joseth had fallen asleep but Ryam's wide blue eyes took in the sights around him. Jaime took both babes and walked back into the room that Melara assumed they had been given for the night. Melara allowed her eyes to sweep the room she was standing in, noticing that it served at a sitting room, a kitchen and a dining hall. Besides the door that Jaime had left through just a moment ago, another door stood on the right side of the dwelling. Melara assumed that led to another room with a bed for the crone. Jaime had yet to return, causing Melara to find herself seated by the crone and staring into the fire.

"Thank you for your kindness. I truly mean those words."

"Polite little thing, you are. So proper." The crone lifted a mug from the floor and took a deep drink, wiping the moisture from her lips with the back of her hand. "Weren't raised on any farm or inn, where ya? Had all," the crone motioned widely with her arms, some of her drink spilling to the floor, "the luxuries of shiny trinkets and whatever wealth brings."

"Forgive me, but you are wrong. I am just a bastard girl from the North who was lucky. The Starks employed my mother in their kitchens." The crone let out a snort. "Does my past amuse you, Crone?"

"'Does my past amuse you, Crone?' Deary, you are as much as a bastard as your husband is a…what lie did he tell?" The crone narrowed her eyes in concentration, rubbing her chin in thought. "A smith? No, no, no. That would be too easy of a lie." The old woman slapped her leg with her free hand. "A 'simple soldier', that's what he said. That," she motioned towards the room Jaime had yet to appear from, "is no simple soldier. His build is too large and he is too arrogant to take command from anyone." It was Melara's turn to snort, the sound escaping before she could stop it.

"Forgive m—"

"If ya keep asking for damn forgiveness I won't have any left to give."

"Crone, you are mistaken. While my husband is...can be arrogant, he is simply a soldier in King Robb's arm—"

"THAT man? From the North? Oh, deary, your lies are terrible." She took another deep drink from her mug, offering it to Melara once she had finished. "So tell me what a bastard from the North and a soldier in King Robb's army doing running from Winterfell?"

"I did not say my husband is from the North. He served House Mallister of Seagard." Melara's tongue did not feel heavy as the lies poured from her mouth. "King Robb has generously granted my husband and me leave to—"

"Return you and your babes to the Riverlands, of course."

"If all you were going to do was mock me, why did you ask to hear my tale?"

"I didn't ask, deary, you offered me your poorly thought story." The crone dropped her voice and leaned her body towards Melara. "If you expect to survive, I suggest you change your story." She jerked her head in the direction of where Jaime had stayed behind the closed door. "Go join your husband, deary. Tonight may be the last night with a roof over your heads for a long time. Take my kindness as a gift, but don't waste this gift and be captured within the week."

Melara stood without speaking another word to the crone, nearly stomping to the room in anger and slight confusion. She quietly opened the door to find the room in near darkness, the only light coming from a small candle sitting on a table near the bed. She closed the door behind her just as quietly as she had opened it, watching Jaime stand over his sons as they lay asleep on a pile of furs. Melara walked over to stand next to Jaime, slipping her hand into his and entwining their fingers. They stood in silence for another moment as they watched their sleeping sons, peace falling over both of them. Jaime turned to face Melara, bringing his free hand to her shoulder in order to turn her body towards his. His voice was barely a whisper when he spoke.

"Old Crone must have believed your tale. She agreed to allow us to stay here only if you could convince her that your story was true. You must have become a much better liar, Sweet Girl." Melara wanted to speak, to tell him that the crone had seen through her lies, but before she could open her mouth, Jaime claimed her lips with his own. His hands began to roam her body and hers clung to his tunic. Melara pulled her head back slightly, her gasp for breath nearly silent as Jaime moved his lips along her jaw and to her neck. Melara turned her head to the side as Jaime gently pulled her hair and clothing away from the path he would create with his lips. Melara felt her skin heat as Jaime began to untie her cloak, the thick furs piling at her feet. When Jaime pulled away and started to untie her dress, Melara placed her hands over his to halt his movements.

"Jaime, please, tell me how we were able to escape. Tell me of my father's death." The whispered words hung in the air for a moment before Jaime laid his forehead against hers.

"Melara, we have a long way to travel and plenty of time for talk. But we don't know when we will have the next roof above our heads. I don't know when I will next be able to have you. I will answer your questions later, but now, please, let us just have this night to be husband and wife." Melara moved her hands away and allowed Jaime to untie her gown, their eyes never leaving each other's faces.

"Jaime…even if it is just for this night…make me forget everything."

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