Alys
It seemed things were always being prepared for around Kings Landing now. And Alys could hardly imagine how it all was for Ned who spent most of his days with either Robert or Jon or more likely the both of them working over all the little and big parts of running a kingdom after the end of a war.
She could tell, quite clearly, that her brother desperately wished to run away north every time she saw him.
A feeling that she could tell had only increased when news of his son's birth had reached them a few days following Robert's coronation.
He'd looked indescribably proud when he'd told her, and Alys had been quick to discern that that news had only deepened his homesickness. Catelyn was journeying north come the start of the new year in a few weeks, once she's recovered from the birth well enough for travel and the babe has had some time to strengthen as well.
Alys, for all her homesickness, found that she was dragging her own feet in regards to returning.
And she knew entirely the reasoning.
It wasn't hard to figure it. Even just in her short time south to Dorne she'd missed Jaime greatly, and that had been with many distractions to take her mind from him.
But in the North the most she'd have to distract her was Jon, and she doubted that would be nearly enough to draw her mind from Jaime.
She wouldn't even have the day to day distractions of performing the role of Lady of Winterfell as she'd had after her mother's death. Those would fall to Catelyn and while Alys was sure that for a little she'd have a position in helping her good-sister adjust to Winterfell and the differences that running it would hold to Riverrun. But that would only last so long, Catelyn was more than capable enough and had plenty of experience as the lady of a keep.
Alys supposed her days would end up much like they were here in Kings Landing. Only without Jaime to keep her company.
And she knew that was only going to make her miss him all the more.
She pushes her melancholic musings away from her mind and focuses herself on more current things, there was little use in the worries of what was to come when there was nothing to be done about them now.
Thus she focuses on her now, a familiar scene from before as she sits with the Tyrell ladies for lunch, but now instead of Queen Rhaella in their talk there was the soon-to-be Queen Cersei.
Alys hadn't had the pleasure yet of meeting Jaime's sister, but she recalls all the times he'd spoken of her. The warmness to his tone that came with discussing his sister, and the smile he'd get as well.
The others seemed more knowledgable of the woman, having met her in the days of Lord Tywins positioning as Hand.
"I invited her along here," Alerie remarks, sipping at her drink. "She said she would see if she could make it." Her tone was a bit skeptical, and Mina shook her head at her good-sister.
"She's likely very busy," Mina offers as excuse, "and she has her own ladies already in her retinue," Mina reaches for a confectionary from the table. "I hear her dress is going to be quite beautiful."
"Well, it is a royal wedding." Alerie remarks. "Everything has to be perfect and stunning. Something the minstrels will sing on for years. Decades if she's lucky."
"A wedding is only sung about for decades if there is a death," Mina states.
"Let's not bring that sort of luck to it," Alys cautions as she carefully picks a piece of cake off of her plate and holds it carefully for Jon who mouths it messily.
"So superstitious," Alerie jests and the other girls laugh. "Don't worry Alys, I'm certain it will be a pleasant affair and end with no casualties."
"I would hope so," a silvery voice remarks and all the girls glance over to Cersei entering the Tyrell's chosen balcony for their lunches. "I would hate for the event to be anything less than pleasant."
"But the deaths you can give or take?" Alerie jokes, her own voice sharp and teasing.
"Depends on the death," Cersei returns with a smile that reminds Alys vaguely of a cat before a mouse. She moves about the table of sweets and one of the younger girls nearby Alerie and Mina gets up and offers her seat to which Cersei takes with only the slightest nod of her head in thanks to to girl.
She reaches across and pours herself a goblet of the Arbor Gold upon the table and leans back. Steadily discussion resumes about the balcony, Alerie quickly garnering Cersei's attention alongside Mina while Alys wipes carefully at Jons mouth to rid it of some of the sticky crumbs of cake.
She studies Cersei a bit, mostly out of the curiosity surrounding the sister of one of her dearest friends. Cersei smiles, though Alys wonders if it is a bit forced, towards the Tyrell girls and swirls her wine occasionally about her glass as she thinks over her responses. As Alys listens she notes that Cersei seems bored if anything, as though she's here out of obligation alone.
Alys supposes that may be true enough reasoning. As Queen, Cersei's role is that of garnering good faith with the nobles at court, specifically the ladies. A Queen is one who needs to garner love more than anything, as well as respect and loyalty.
Alys watches Cersei a few moments more and figures it's likely just wearing on her a bit, with her wedding nearing many ladies will be vying for her attention and favor. Alerie and Mina are likely only one of the many groups Cersei must have had to entertain today.
Jon hiccups and Alys glances down to him with a smile, bouncing him just slightly upon her lap in the hopes of curing them as he hiccups once more.
"He's quite cute," Cersei's voice calls, kind words under her vaguely interested look.
"Thank you," Alys inclines her head.
"He's your bastard correct?" Cersei's voice reads of simple curiosity, but the sharpness of it still rings true enough that Alys tenses just slightly.
In her defense it wasn't something the other lords or ladies would often ask outright. These sorts of things were skirted about in her company, thinly veiled and likely only discussed more fully once she had left the company of others. But Alys smiles and nods, "yes, that is correct."
"And the father?" Cersei barreled on and Alys shifted Jon a bit in her grasp as she felt uncomfortable with the other woman's straightforward questioning.
"Evidently not in the picture," She remarks, and with her best tone of jest "lest then Jon would not be a bastard I imagine." Alerie smiles her way, and that warms Alys just the bit she needs to relax a moment.
"There are plenty of reasons for a babe to be bastard besides the father just not being there," Cersei laughs, "he could be dead, or exiled perhaps, or of unworthy birth, or sworn to some higher vows or marriage."
Alys looks to the queen-to-be and the eyes, green as Jaimes, held the sharp shrewd look of searching for some sort of answer that Alys cannot give to them that made her want to shift with utter discomfort. But she kept herself still and just offered her meekest of smiles. "I suppose your right, but it matters little for Jon why his father is not here. I only hope to do my best for him on my own."
Alerie speaks before Cersei, "all any mother can hope to do for their child, bastard or not." Alys turns her smile to Alerie, much warmer and thankful for her quickness as she then turns to Cersei and steers the conversation away from Alys and Jon as deftly as she ever could.
Cersei, for her part, only studies Alys a moment more with narrowed eyes hidden behind the plain smile she's had most of her time here. But Alys still can't help but wonder what truth she's fishing for regarding Jon.
And she loathes as well to learn the answer.
Elia was starting to fair much better, recovering from all the travel of the last months she looks far less sickly and much more bright like the sun. Alys was happy to see her friend in better states, even if she could still see the worry through it.
"She'll safe there?" Elia asks, her gaze not leaving Rhaenys where she chases the newly recovered fluff of black that Oberyn and Alys had spent the last day and a half tracking down throughout the keep. "In the north?"
Elia's eyes turn to Alys now, gaze searching for assurance and Alys offers her smile. "Yes," the decision was all but final as far as they knew. Ned had talked with her on it the night before when they ate dinner alone. Alys wished Rhaenys could return to Dorne with her mother, but she understood the circumstances that forbade that.
Elia did as well, it seemed she only wished for her daughters safety and chance for a life. And like Aegon, if that meant it would be a life far from her she would accept it, regardless of how little she likes it.
Oberyn was the one most opposed to the notion. But he seemed to keep most of his protests simmering for whenever he could present them to Doran.
"Ned would never harm a child," Alys states, "and from what he told me, she'll grow up alongside his own children and Jon, with the same care and attention befitting any highborn ward."
"Save the fact that she'll be more hostage than ward," Oberyn points out, a hint of bitterness to his tone as he sips at his wine. "Kept safely as far from her people to ensure we do not raise our banners for her."
"I understand," Alys sighs, "and I wish I could do more for you all. That I could find some way to convince them that Rhaenys was better suited in Dorne."
"You've done plenty, Alys." Elia states. "And if you believe she'll be safe, I trust your judgment."
"They are removing her rights as Targaryen already, renaming her Rhaenys Martell," Oberyn says, "is that not enough?"
"That is only one precaution in their eyes, and a thin one. Even if her name is different, her blood remains the same." Elia tells her brother, reaching and squeezing his hand where it rests on the table between them. "But they are keeping her legitimate, not that it matters to our eyes, but she'll certainly fair better in the north as a Martell than a Sand or Waters."
"It also grants her more opportunities when she is grown," Alys states. "Ned mentioned that Jon had proposed the entertainment of a betrothal between her and my brothers newborn son."
"So she would be bound to the North for life, far from where she belongs."
"It's only an entertainment of a betrothal," Elia states, "and I doubt there will be any commitment to one for quite some time."
"And if it is done, they'll have grown up together, which would hopefully make for at least a happy marriage alongside a beneficial one." Alys points out.
Oberyn scowls though, and grumbles to himself as his head turns to look to his niece.
Rhaenys, for her part, had seemed excited at the prospect of snow when she was told of the possibility of going north. Assaulting Alys with question upon question about it until she seemed to become overjoyed at the idea of seeing and playing in it all.
Alys felt a bit reassurance herself from it, how easily it seemed Rhaenys may adjust to the change. She's already adjusted to so many others, and though she's certainly had moments where it seemed too much change all one after another, Rhaenys was quick to find distraction whether it be in playing or studying when the opportunity arose.
She was always full of questions it seemed.
And that was what appeared hardest for the little girl, not the change itself but rather the lack of answers for it all.
It may not be Dorne and her family ahead of her, but Alys was glad that soon the girl would find the changes to stop and instead be allowed to settle and not be left with so many questions at every turn.
Jaime
"You have gotten better," Tyrion laughs, "I thought you were lying in your letters. But you've actually gotten better."
"I've worked mediocrely hard at this," Jaime smiles to his brother, "so please continue the praise of my skills."
"I said you got better," Tyrion remarks, a cheeky look to his gaze as he moves a piece. "Not that you were good."
"My teacher has told me I am quite skilled, on several occasions actually." Jaime states. "And she is quite the proficient chess player, and older than you, so I am more inclined to believe her than you."
"Ah yes," Tyrion smirks, "the renowned Alys Stark. Quite the rumor mill around her."
Jaime scowls down at the board just a bit at that, though he certainly understands it well enough. She had a bastard child, a hidden pregnancy that she ran all the way to Dorne to hide. Well, that and to get the Princess Elia and her children to safety, but that seemed to be less fun to whisper speculation about to the greater Kings Landing population.
While Jaime may question the mother side of Alys's bastard, most of the court seemed more focused on the father. Which, he supposes makes sense for those who don't have some assurance that she's lying.
Regardless, Jaime is not the fondest of all the speculation. He could hardly imagine how Alys, or even her brother Ned, was dealing with all the rumors surrounding little Jons fathering.
Jaime was never more happy to be ostracized from most of court by way of his king slaying and limbo state as a Kingsguard, as it kept him from hearing the ridiculous men proposed as possible fathers.
"And if I'm not mistaken," Tyrion muses with a cheeky lilt to his voice that makes Jaime look up from his pieces. "The well-spoken-about Alys Stark, and her rather infamous bastard, are making their way here now."
Jaime looks over shoulder to follow Tyrions gaze and spots Alys indeed walking with Jon in her arms their way. "Ah," Jaime smiles, "she's obviously come to see me win my first match of chess against you."
"Doubtful," Tyrion laughs, moving his piece. "Perhaps she has simply come to give you a kind face to see upon your inevitable defeat."
"Alys," Jaime calls over his shoulder, Alys now much closer and well within hearing distance that she looks at him with a smile and a raised brow. "Please inform my brother that while he may be quite the genius, I am actually much better at chess and thus will most certainly win this match."
"We can only hope I have passed enough knowledge to you for that, Ser Jaime." She smiles, "and that I prayed sufficiently this morning for it as well."
"Ah," Tyrion chuckles, "calling upon the old gods for an edge I see, brother."
"If I win then I am certainly gifted by the gods." Jaime muses, moving his piece and trying to see ahead as Alys had implored upon him when teaching him the last week. It's not all that different from an actual battle. That's what she'd told him.
But in an actual battle Jaime could hit things with his sword, very proficiently.
He was not so proficient with this, nor could he hit anything with a sword to guarantee his win.
"You are more than welcome to join us, Lady Alys," Tyrion remarks, looking up to her with a smile after moving his own piece. "I'm sure my brother would be glad for the assistance."
"I appreciate the invitation, Lord Tyrion, and I would be glad to visit with you and Jaime both another time. But I am afraid Jon is likely to be cranky soon. We've just spent the last hour with the ladies of the Reach, and they are rather fond of fussing over him." Alys smiles kindly, and Jaime can't help but smile in return. "But it was very nice to meet you, I've been looking forward to it. Jaime always speaks very fondly of you."
Tyrion glances to Jaime, a little look of studying to his gaze before it returns to Alys. "He's written of you a bit, just as fondly I assure you." Tyrion states, though Jaime wasn't sure how true it was. Sure he had written of Alys on occasion to Tyrion, but that was actually a more recent development.
He'd rather preferred, at least when it came to letters, to keep his company of Alys private.
Perhaps a fraction of it was fear that somehow Cersei would hear of it, and he doubted just a bit she would have had anything nice to say of it.
Alys blushes though, and shifts Jon in her grasp. The babe sleepily laying his head on her shoulder and is drooling just a tad upon the fabric of her dress. "I look forward to seeing you again, Lord Tyrion." She offers, "and you Ser Jaime."
"Of course, Alys." He nods, smiling without much meaning to.
He watches her walk off, and wonders if he should go to the Godswood after dinner to see her. It's likely she'll be there, she usually is. And if he wins this match against Tyrion, as he very much hopes he does, he wants to be able to boast about it to her as soon as possible.
"You're really rather fond of her." Tyrion states, snapping Jaimes attention back to his brother and the game.
"Hmm?" Jaime feigns, looking fully to the chess board an moving his second to last piece he needs to complete the move Alys taught him.
"Don't play stupid," Tyrion chides, "you're fond of Alys Stark." He says it like it's some entertaining bit of performance, and like it's surprising. Which, Jaime can concede, isn't too far off. He was surprised himself, and still is, that he became so close and fond of Alys.
"She's a kind girl, and decent company compared to most in Kings Landing." He shrugs, watching Tyrion move his piece exactly where he wished him to. "And an excellent chess teacher." He adds, moving his final piece, "check mate, brother."
"Evidently she is." Tyrion smiles, nodding his acceptance of the defeat. He was far less protesting of it than Jaime had expected, and it seems to stem from the look of curiosity to his brothers gaze. Jaime moves to clean the board when Tyrion carefully puts out into the air, "and her son?"
Jaime glances up, eyeing Tyrion himself and dislikling the fishing tone to his brothers voice. "What about her son? He's a babe, no personality that I can discern, not that I've spent much time with it."
"He's what…" Tyrion muses, still fishing for something that discomforts Jaime enough that he almost wishes he'd lost so Tyrion could be boasting his genius instead of searching whatever he's looking for. "Four months old, five?" Jaime shrugs, but Tyrion continues on, leaning back on the bench and peering at Jaime. "I've heard a few… theories about the father."
"I'm sure you have," Jaime scoffs, "plenty of ladies have little else to do it seems but to gossip. Really Tyrion, I thought you were much smarter than to entertain that drivel."
"I'm simply curious brother," Tyrion defends, "especially one of the leading theories in that drivel is that you are the father."
Jaime pauses entirely in what he is doing, blinking at the chess set in his hand as his brow furrows at that.
It wasn't an insane assumption, though most wouldn't even know the incredibly damning fact of him actually having been sharing Alys's bed in the last few months prior to her departure from Kings Landing. No, they were likely just basing it entirely off of the more well known fact of their closeness.
If they knew that fact it would likely be considered all but true.
He supposed the looks he and Alys got when ladies walked past and Jon was near them made sense.
He scoffs out a laugh, it seems most then believe him to have broken his oaths as a Kingsguard both by way of sex and the killing of a king.
He wondered which bothers them more.
Perhaps, since the sex and fathering of a child would certainly be before the killing of a king, it negates the severity of his Kingslayer act. If his oaths were already 'broken' then really did he break any vow killing the king?
Jaime shakes his head, and when he looks to Tyrion he pauses his refusal of the fact.
Alys, he knows well enough now, has committed herself to this claim of Jon. And the mystery of the father was certainly to her advantage, no one could really dispute it. But there was also risk of them looking too deeply into it, like pulling at too many threads and the whole tapestry will fall apart.
And Jaime was apparently the leading theory, likely because he was the most plausible one. If he denies it outright it could cause more trouble than not, he figures. Put them back into questioning it all further, begin pulling at more of the threads, which Alys seems to want to avoid.
At least if they believe it likely to be him they'll have little reason to dig further into it all.
So Jaime shrugs, "no one knows the truth of the father but Alys." A non-answer, one that Tyrion clearly recognizes from the narrowed look to his eyes but thankfully does not push further upon as Jaime gathers the last of the chess set and motions for Tyrion to come along, the pair heading back into the Red Keep.
He's gotten quite good at ignoring the scandalized gazes of those around him. The whispers of Kingslayer while not unheard were all pushed away from his thoughts by instinct now. But he wondered, as he passed groups of nobles throughout the keep, how much of the whispering was the added judgment of his supposed fathering Alys Stark's bastard son.
And how much of the judgment was his lack of claiming of the sin.
Thank you for reading!
Sorry about the bit of a wait, this chapter ended up being hard to write for whatever reason. But I'm happy with it and hope you all enjoyed it!
Thank you as always for all the wonderful comments, they always make my day whenever they pop up!