A/N: Next chapter. Not plot heavy but more of Nim and Jaime's relationship. Also it is fair to note that I will be going on a month long hiatus in November on account of National Novel Writing Month to focus on my original projects. I may also take December off but at the very latest, this fic will be back in the new year. Until then, ENJOY!
Chapter 28: Simply Nim
How reliving it felt to dress like a boy again. It had been a long time since Arya could remember being able to move so easily. Breathe so easily. She felt as if she could run for miles with no effort. Even Lantos' old exercise seemed paltry to the difficulties she had endured in such 'proper attire'.
Now, garbed in these clothes, she looked like her old self. Like Nim. A bit more feminine perhaps. Her hair was longer and it seemed to her she had grown since she first arrived at the Red Keep. Not to mention she was far cleaner. She wouldn't pass as a street urchin. But she certainly wouldn't look like a lady of the court.
And for the next few days, as far as she was concerned, she wasn't. She was not Arya Lannister. She wasn't even Arya Stark, the name so weighed down by aspirations of vengeance.
She was Nim. Simply Nim.
Jaime wore clothing that did not identify him as a Lannister. It was fine clothing none the less, and the sword at his hip suggested he was of some rank. But no one who had not seen him before would know his identity.
"You certainly look as you have some fortune," Nim said lightly.
"As do you. Those clothes are finer and cleaner than what most street rats would be able to afford," Jaime replied.
"This is true. We might keep our identities a secret but I fear we might attract robbers." Nim faked concern and Jaime grinned.
"Yes, how unfortunate for the robbers."
They left the keep in the early morning on horseback. Nim had never owned a horse of her own as a thief. Lantos said that the beasts weren't practical. They made too much noise and couldn't slip easily through trees and people. A horse gave away too many secrets.
But there was a freedom to riding away, outside of the walls. It occurred to Nim that if she simply nudged her horse into a gallop, she might be able to escape this place forever.
But no… though she planned on assuming the identity of her free self for two days, she still had much work to do at the Red Keep. She would simply tuck her vengeance in the back of her heart for now.
They rode out of King's Landing, away from the crowds of people, and past the Kingswood, though Jaime joked about spending their time there.
"We might meet our old friends, the brotherhood. Won't they be delighted to have us," he said.
"I saved you once from them," Nim said with a smirk. "I'm not sure I could do it again."
"True, it would be a perfect cover for you if you planned to murder me," Jaime speculated. "I shouldn't tempt fate."
"Or, more importantly, me," Nim urged her horse into a trot, favoring the path away from the Kingswood.
"More importantly?" Jaime raised an eyebrow. "Nim the Nameless, more dangerous than fate."
"That does have a ring to it," Nim mused. She always had liked to consider herself dangerous. And given her place in the court, a skill for danger would be lifesaving. But she pushed such thoughts from her mind.
She intended to be carefree. Just for a few days, she wanted to lose her memory again.
They found a house that had been abandoned for a long while. Likely because the occupants had been killed at some point or another. It was a suitable place to stay for their two days. An inn might be risky, given that some people in passing knew Jaime's face. Solitude was especially favorable, given what Nim wished to do.
She wanted to fight him. Spar with him for the first time in awhile. Their little match on their wedding night had barely counted. And she wanted to sharpen her skills once again. Though she had promised Tywin to act the part of a proper lady in the light, in the shadows no one could keep her from her blades, now that they had been returned to her.
"I'm sure you are rusty after so many weeks without those long knives," Jaime said.
"Well, this time I'm not drunk," Nim retorted.
"You were barely drunk that night."
"Maybe I was just good at hiding it."
Jaime rolled his eyes but he agreed to the fight. Why wouldn't he, after all? Fighting was his element and out here he didn't have to deal with the trappings of the court.
Nim knew that they both agreed fighting was less complicated than any form of politics.
He swung at her side and she blocked, mirroring his steps as he tried to circle her. She hadn't lost her footwork, a fortunate thing since most of her skill relied on it. She twisted to the side again as he stabbed out, her feet sliding gracefully over the straw beneath her feet.
"Is this a dance or did you plan to attack in return?" Jaime asked.
Nim narrowed her eyes as she smiled. "If you wish, my lord."
Their dance became more vicious then as she lunged and he blocked. He countered and she lept back. They spun around each other, seeking each other's openings but never hitting quite as hard as they might against a real enemy. Because they weren't true enemies anymore.
We should be, Nim thought. I should hate him still. And perhaps part of her did.
But Nim didn't. Nim had no hatred left for the man she had stolen gold from all those months ago. No hatred left for the man who tried to kill her but inexplicably saved her life. And for these two days, only Nim mattered.
So when, at some point in their fight, Jaime disarmed her and pinned her to the wall of the house, she kissed him and pushed all thoughts of guilt from her mind. That guilt was for another time. As was her vengeance. As was Arya Lannister.
All things that seemed silly to Nim, who had no name or past to speak of.
The girl was such a puzzle to Jaime. The more he tried to understand her, the more he confused himself. He could understand her more vengeful self. Her desire to seek justice for her family. He had done many things to protect his family in the past. Including agree to this match which, at the time, had seemed about the worst thing that could happen.
But then there was Nim. Nim had begun as a puzzle and never stopped being one. A thief smart enough to get the jump on him and stupid enough to taunt him despite his superior skill and name. A girl who had fought to kill him with some skill but saved his life at the hands of the brotherhood. A girl who gained his father's favor as a cup bearer when he, Cersei and Tyrion never knew how to do the same. She was stupid one minute, smart the next and then a bizarre combination of the two. It seemed to him that Nim and Arya were always at war inside his new wife's body.
But on this trip she seemed much calmer. More so than he'd seen her since she discovered her true name. And it was a relief to see her in her old type of clothes again. She did look lovelier wielding her blades. Her whole face seemed to light up as she danced about him.
But lying in bed that night after certain passions had led them there, Jaime did question her willingness to endure him as opposed to the other members of his family whom she, at some point, intended to kill.
"Why is it none of your hatred makes its way to me, my lady?" he asked softly.
"Oh some of it does," Nim shifted, facing him. "Just not enough to be harmful."
"Of course. I am curious as to why, however."
Nim sighed. "When my father was sentenced to die and when my brother and mother were killed at the Red Wedding you were locked up in a Northern prison. You played no part in their deaths. The rest of your family did."
Well, I did push your younger brother out of a window once, Jaime thought. But I certainly don't plan on telling you that.
"I have killed Northerners before," Jaime said. "In war and in other instances."
"That's right," Nim seemed to recall something. "There was something you did, wasn't there? When my father was injured in the leg you and your men ambushed him and his. You killed all of the men with him." Her brow furrowed. "I don't recall why you did that though."
"Your father admitted that he had ordered your mother to take my brother Tyrion captive. I lost my temper," Jaime said.
"You are very protective of your brother," Nim observed. "It was only a threat to him that could have made you accept this match, after all." Her mouth twitched.
Jaime sighed. "I am quite protective of him. No one else is. He's been despised wrongly his entire life. Especially by my father though he was probably a better son than I was. Tyrion had a very sharp mind."
"I care a great deal for my brothers as well," Nim said. "Especially Jon. He gave me my first sword. I called it needle." She smiled fondly. "Of course, I lost it somewhere along the line. I can't remember where."
"Jon. That's the bastard boy, isn't it? The one who joined the Night's Watch," Jaime recalled meeting the boy. He was a dreadfully serious fellow. The kind of man who would do well in the freezing wasteland of the North.
"Yes. As far as I know, he's still alive." Nim exhaled in the dark. "But I can't know for sure. I'm afraid if I try to contact him, I'll find out he was killed a long time ago as well. He could be dead… Bran and Rickon could be dead too. I could very well be the last Stark and I'm not even a Stark anymore."
"Not in name," Jaime agreed. "Though you'll always look like one."
"Yes," Nim said. "But we were talking about why I don't hate you as much. And I guess that's the reason. I might have done the same thing to protect one of my brothers. If there were any left to protect." She shifted. "Now why is it you don't despise me when I have spent most of my waking moments plotting vengeance on your family?"
"Maybe because I think I can somehow stop you," Jaime said. "Or maybe because my family has gotten under my skin in the worst way lately and sometimes I wonder how much I want them alive." He shook his head. "That doesn't mean I won't stop you though."
"I expect you and your father to be a challenge," Nim said. "But I am patient." She traced her fingers over the moth bitten sheets of the bed. "I'd rather not discuss it right now… After all, I'm still simply Nim for a little while longer."
"Yes. Simply Nim." Jaime repeated.
He liked Nim quite a bit like this. But despite these two days of pretending, it was clearer than ever that the girl would never be 'simply Nim' ever again.
It was a shame. But still true none the less.
"There's nothing I can do, I suppose" Jaime said as they prepared to leave this solitude to return to the keep. "To discourage you from your more vengeful plans?"
"No," Nim said simply. "I'm afraid there isn't. You should understand though. It's the favorite phrase of your family." She looked at him. "A Lannister always pays their debts."
Jaime sighed. "That they do. I don't remember when those words became better known than our true words."
"And what are those?" Nim asked. "I think I've forgotten."
"Hear me Roar," Jaime said. "I guess it doesn't have the same ring to it."
"No," Nim said. "But perhaps one day the Red Keep will hear me roar."
"On that day," Jaime said. "I'd say its more likely to be a howl."
Nim smiled, her eyes glimmering with just a hint of darkness. "Yes. A howl. I like the sound of that."
They departed then for the Red Keep. Jaime knew he would have to find a way to keep Arya from her vengeance. He would do so for as long as he could. It was practically his duty.
After all, he was the only one in his family, after all, that could do so without ending up on her list.
A/N: As I said, mostly fluff. But it is a good stopping point for a hiatus given that the story starts another arc of sorts after this. Thanks for keeping up with the story for this long and I hope you'll return when I do. With that said, REVIEW!
