Jaime wanted to burst out laughing, but he wasn't in the clear having only escaped from camp ten minutes ago. If he was lucky it would be another twenty at least before they would notice he was missing. Days he had spent studying the camp movements looking for weakness in the guards, right after dinner had to be his time to strike. It was dark enough that he would be harder to see for the search parties and any dogs would be more distracted by the woodland animals out and about. Also the meal marked a change of shift. Not to mention that particular guard seemed to be the most lack-witted.
All day he had worked the ropes on his hands until they were raw and bleeding, he managed to loosen the knot that he could slip one hand out. That was all he needed, the poor man didn't see it coming, then it was like he was too embarrassed to put up a fight. Jaime's hands had closed tight around his throat until the man moved no more. Jaime quickly took his sword, scabbard and cloak, if there was only a way to get a horse.
Being a prisoner for so long Jaime hadn't a clue where either side stood. From scraps he knew that Renly was dead, and his father had taken up residence in Harrenhal. Unfortunately Jaime wasn't entirely sure where he was at the moment, he could tell which way was south and at the moment that was all he cared about.
It was a struggle to decide where to go, he was not north, or east of Riverrun which would make Casterly Rock quite close. However most of the fighting was down chiefly in that area, he was lucky to find out that at this very moment the boy king was in the crag fighting. His brother and wife are much further to the south, but going east would likely lessen his risk of being captured again. Harrenhal is very close, but he wasn't sure seeing his father was what he really wanted.
He wanted to go home, to see and hold his wife again but those were in two different directions. She haunted his dreams almost every night. He wondered if it was guilt, he knew very well of Stannis' letter. Allyria is smart enough to know the truth by now, she won't be placated by his sister's lies. Though he wondered if Cersei would lie to her about it, his sister would never confess it to anyone but even he could see that would be a very good way to ensure Allyria never loved him again. That was what Cersei's goal had been since his betrothal, he couldn't help but wonder how far she would go to secure her wishes. Once being openly with Cersei, never having to part or share her was Jaime's greatest wish. Now he was sick with worry over how his wife was being treated by his twin. Tyrion would try to shield her and protect her but in the end he would be to busy protecting himself as it was.
The night before Jaime began to plan his escape he had dreamt of both the women he had loved. He was under the rock in one of the many caves; he could feel the castle above him pressing down like the weight of all his father's expectations. Deep down Jaime could hear a baby crying, our son, Jaime thought in the dream, but whose son. Regardless he was compelled to go down deeper and deeper. All at once it was too dark to see he put his hand out and fumbled through the passages. He wanted to turn back but he couldn't.
After what felt like hours his foot splashed into a lake and as if by magic it lit the whole cavern up with an eerie blue light. There in the middle lay a small babe struggling to stay afloat. Quickly and without a second thought Jaime began taking off his boots and belt.
A second before he dove into save his boy, he isn't dead, he lives, Cersei appeared swimming with difficulty beside him. From the other shore he heard Allyria cry softly, wading in to her knees trying desperately to grab the boy.
"Forget the boy," Cersei's voice was hard. "Save me, it's me you love not that mongrel."
"He is my son," no one had said anything but Jaime knew in his bones that was the boy born to Allyria.
"You have other sons, our sons, our beautiful golden boys who look just like you, like us. Quick now Jaime, save me I am drowning." Jaime could hear her desperation.
Again it was like he was drawn to her and that it was entirely out of his control. It was destiny, the way things were meant to be, just as she had always said when they were together.
In the background he could hear Allyria wail, he tried to look at her but it was so difficult. "She is the queen," she said in between sobs. "It is right; you must save her Jaime, go do your duty." With all the more force he was compelled towards his sister. "I will save our son."
In the dream Jaime hadn't seen her wade into the lake but he heard the splash as she fell in. There had been a drop off; it had been almost painful to drag his gaze away from his sister but where there had once been his wife, there was nothing. She was struggling below the surface. "No," he screamed and dived towards her. Cersei screamed in the background. Twice he had to dive under after her, finally when he dragged her to surface she gasped for air. He struggled to the shore, her vast dress weighed him down and she fought him, trying to make it back to the boy.
"Jaime," she cried her voice thick with anguish. "Our boy is gone, he is gone and I was not strong enough to save him.
He held her as she sobbed and shook. "No, no, it's my fault I wasn't fast enough, I waited. You are a good mother." Jaime was confused by the silence, he was sure Cersei would scream and yell at him till her dying breath. When he looked up they were both gone, there was no trace they had even ever existed.
He had felt very queer when he woke up. Jaime knew he loved Allyria, loved her more then Cersei. Yet at the same time he remembered the sister he had once had, she had never been open and kind, he only had to remember her treatment of Tyrion when he was a babe to dispel that belief. But she had been funny, and trustworthy; she had a head full of schemes but some how she seemed almost innocent. There were few things about his relationship that Jaime could remember with regret and yet he knew without a doubt that his feelings for Allyria were of a different and superior sort. The dream had troubled him for several days, each night for a week he dreamt it again. Most nights it was Cersei and the boy in the lake; sometimes it was both of the women he loved. Once it was his father and his son drowning. No matter who was in the lake, every time Jaime would forsake his family in the end and save his wife.
It was starting to get cold, the bones in his hands and feet ached inside their inadequate coverings. Shaking Jaime ran as quietly as he could through the woods. Every snapping branch made his heart stop. It was almost dawn, they must know by now that I am missing, Jaime wanted to rest desperately. If he stopped now he would be caught again. He knew well enough that there were men among the northern soldiers that would have no scruples about killing him, even against their king's wishes. It would not do to meet with Karstark especially; he was still vengeful over his sons' death. He acted as if Jaime had killed them in cold blood and not cleanly on the battlefield.
He stopped at a clear slow running stream, he worried about incurring an illness at drink water that he was unsure of but sickness would be less devastating then dehydration. He dipped his hands in after removing his gloves and drank deeply. He spilled a portion of cold water down his doublet, he shivered. He would have to rest and eat soon but for now he kept walking pausing behind every tree, and ducking as he walked so as to leave as little exposed to be seen or shot at.
He warred with himself, he wanted to see a town or an inn. Not that he could go in, he would be immediately thought suspicious and he would have no way to tell the difference between an inn that supported his father or one that supported the north. Not that it mattered much any ways, he didn't have any coin on him to pay with any ways. Lannisters pay their debts, and that was well known but he didn't look much like a Lannister at the moment.
Finally when he was so exhausted, it had been three months since he had used his legs, Jaime was falling and tripping over every little twig that he decided to rest. He climbed into the sturdiest tree nearby, going as high as was wise. He sat on the branch and ate a few bites of the salted beef and hard tack that was supposed to be his meal the night before. He wrapped it up tight again and returned it to his pocket. Then he took his belt off, he was glad that the guard had been on the fat side and that in his imprisonment he had lost weight. He wrapped the belt under the tree branch and over his hips before securing it. In his position he tried to wrap the cloak around him. Finally he slept for a few fitful hours.
