Hey all! Sorry for the delay! School and such can be such a hassle eurk.
Kind of a short chapter, and yes, another visit to Jaime is in order.
On a side note, I have two projects that should BOTH almost be finished soon (fingers crossed)! I'm not going to give too much away...one has to do with Jon, and the second has to do with Renly/Loras and another couple...you'll just have to wait and see ehe.
Thanks for reading/faving/subscribing and, of course, reviewing! Which would always be appreciated!
Enjoy!
Elira
She feigned sleep until she was certain that her husband was in a deep slumber. Slowly, carefully, she slipped out of his embrace and tiptoed to the chest at the foot of the cot. She donned whatever she pulled out of the trunk; she only realized that the tunic she slipped on was Robb's when she was opening the flap of the tent. It didn't make a difference to her, and she doubted that many people would be out at this time of the night.
"Your Grace?" one of the guards outside the tent questioned, putting a hand on her arm to stop her from going any further. "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly fine, thank you," she chirped, fixing her messy hair into a loose braid. "It's a lovely time for a walk, isn't it? The weather is lovely down South." She fought back shivers as a cool breeze wafted by; what great timing nature has.
"This late in the night, my queen?"
"Some pregnancy hormones are so persistent," she replied airily. "They never seem to go away." Frankly, she was surprised that the guard was giving her such a hard time; as queen, she should be able to do what she likes.
"Would you like someone to accompany you, my queen? You can never be too sure-"
"That's sweet of you, but I can manage fine on my own." Elle checked to make sure the sword was on her hip- subtly, for she did not want to prove the guard right-, just in case she ran in to trouble- gods forbid. "My husband trusts all twenty-thousand men here with his life, so I don't suppose I should do any different."
"As you wish, Your Grace." The guard bowed deeply. She quietly thanked him and brushed past him and the others outside the tent.
Walking around the camp at night wasn't so bad, now that she'd gotten used to her surroundings. The bright stars in the sky always helped give a little light, and the many candles and torches lit the path. If she was ever lost, one of the soldiers would lead her to where she wanted to go; they were all too eager to help their queen.
The area they were in was quite lovely, when she stopped to think about it. Wide, open spaces for riding horses, with lush green grass that felt lovely between your toes, especially after it had rained and the dew would cool your feet. Robb didn't like it when she did that, because he was always worried about her catching a death of a cold. Sweet, young Robb…
It was still hard for her to believe that he was eighteen, and already marching to war. Already a king. Then again, you're sixteen and already a queen. Life was funny, she thought; always the least likely people ended up with the power.
Elira easily got past the dungeon guards, only having to smile and give a small curtsy. They didn't even question why she was out so late, which she appreciated. She didn't feel like speaking anymore except to the one person she came to see.
"I hope I'm not interrupting your beauty sleep, ser." Elle entered the cell and walked over to the prisoner, keeping her chin high. She'd grown accustomed to the constant regal appearances ever since her and Robb had been crowned, and even before that, when she was merely- merely, what a choice word- Lady of Winterfell. Although, her current state of dress didn't much help for that aspect of regal appearances.
"I think I've had enough throughout the years, Your Grace; I've been told several times how pretty I am." Jaime grinned and gave his unkempt hair a toss. "On the subject of beauty, may I say that Robb couldn't have picked a lovelier queen?"
She smiled sweetly, yet her tone was as cold as ice. "You may, although it will not help you very much with your…current predicament."
Lannister's grin widened. "Can I not tell my queen the truth? Can I not say that she looks especially lovely this evening?"
"Your queen, ser? I do believe you have me mistaken for your sister, and I do believe you have my breeches mistaken for a dress."
"The dark can be quite deceiving, Your Grace. And I'm certain that no matter what, what is under your garments will look ravishing." She would have been nervous, if not for the chains binding him; who knows what he would do with her if he could get his hands on her. Even without his sword, there were still many ways he could kill her…or do other things. She shuddered at the thought.
"I'm afraid that's none of your concern," she managed finally.
"Oh, but I wish it was," he leered, his green eyes twinkling even in the dark. His stare made her feel uneasy, and she unconsciously took a step back to distance herself.
"You flatter me, ser," she replied quietly, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Jaime Lannister was not like other men, as he had said; the young queen decided that was glad that there was only one of him.
"Now, my queen, what brings you to my humble abode so late at night?" She wanted to slap the smirk off his face. "Is your husband not the wolf he seems when it comes to your...private activities?" He waggled his eyebrows.
"My husband will be flattered to know that your thoughts lie with him in the bedchambers."
"Perhaps you would like to try out a lion?" he purred. "Perhaps that's why you're here."
"And perhaps you can stop thinking with that worm between your legs and use your head for once."
"My queen, your words wound me." Lannister sniffled and sighed dramatically. "It is so difficult to think with my brain when my worm, as you put it, is focused on such a pretty young woman." Elira could have sworn that he batted his eyelashes at her.
"I'm beginning to think men only have a brain in their cocks," she muttered, more to herself than to Jaime.
"Come over here and you can inspect and see for yourself, Your Grace."
In the blink of an eye, she'd drawn her sword and was pressing the blade to the Kingslayer's temple. "Your Grace, I had not known your sword to be so big, much less you having one!" he drawled, eyes glinting with mirth.
She ignored his innuendo. "Perhaps I should cut off your head, then, and see." She traced a line down his cheek to his chin with the tip of the sword. "Perhaps I should cut it off, as you have done to my uncle."
"It was a stab in the belly, if I may correct you."
"Right, of course. My mistake, ser; you never were one for honorable deaths." She lessened the pressure of the sword. "Tell me, how did he fall? I want to know."
The Kingslayer shrugged. "As easily as any man. It took me a moment to realize it was the great Ser Esmour." With a flick of her sword, the young queen had given Jaime a cut from forehead to chin. His head whipped to the right from the sting of it, a hiss escaping his lips, and she was certain she could see tears in his eyes.
"Don't ask if you will not like the answer, Your Grace."
"And don't insult my uncle when a sword is pointed at you."
"You are a Stark, so it seems." He flinched when she dug into his cheek again, but his expression quickly changed to one of relief when she took the sword away. "Fierce as a wolf. I must admit, Your Grace...I rather like it."
Elira frowned and sheathed her sword, glaring at Jaime. "You'll find that I'm full of surprises, ser." She adjusted her cloak, then nodded at the knight. "It was a pleasure," she said icily.
"It is an encounter I will remember forevermore," he retorted, the warmth from his voice completely gone. "I'm sure you will sneak your way into my dreams."
She spun on her heel and smiled at him over her shoulder. "I'm afraid I can't promise the same."
