16. Jaime

He watched from above as she strode across that fucking map she had made across the solar. Ruthlessly kicking tiny figurines out of the way, muttering to herself. He sighed and slinked back into the shadows. He wasn't ready to face her, which Jaime found entirely unsettling. In all his years, all he had ever wanted was Cersei. He knew nothing but her love. Yet, these days, that love felt cold and malicious; nothing like what he remembered.

Jaime, despite what others thought was not entirely witless. Having Tyrion for a brother meant he had to find a way to keep up in the battle of the minds. Not saying he ever won, but it helped sharpen his senses to those around him. How he failed to see what Cersei had become until it was too late, would plague him. When he'd come back from battle to see his sister being named Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm he thought it a guise. Another one of the little games. Only it was not. His last born was dead, his lover had killed the Queen and taken down the faith militant all in one handful of that fucking wildfire.

Fucking Aerys and his pyromancers, Jaime swore. If he never saw those green flames again in this lifetime and the next it would still be too soon. It had been like walking into a perverse reality, where Aerys had been replaced by his sister. Power-hungry, he could not deny but outright murder of hundreds of innocent people had his skin itching uncomfortably in remembrance of a Mad King he once served.

Then had come Daenerys Targaryen and her bloody dragons. He thought he had seen it all, but he was wrong. The battle of Goldroad all but decimated their armies and proved that Daenerys would be no simple foe. She was not to be underestimated, and knowing Cersei as he did now, he knew she would take whatever means necessary to keep the throne.

"Stop hiding in the shadows," her voice called coldly.

When he rounded the corner it was to find her at the window, looking out at Blackwater bay with a goblet of wine in her hand. The absolute calm on her face as she looked at the still smoking sept did little to ease him.

"Was that really necessary?" he couldn't help but ask.

She gave him a withering look that once would have made him feel rather stupid. Today, it only made him more anxious.

"You've been meeting with him," she said quietly.

Jaime sighed. "Just the once." He replied and then added for further justification, "He is still our brother."

"Don't you dare utter those words!" Cersei hissed stepping away from him.

He looked down at his golden hand before he could ask the next question. "What did he have to say?"

She smirked, just barely. "Clever little monster with his clever little words." She poured herself more wine. "The dragon whore plans to march North to help the Starks."

"That would be the wise thing to do," Jaime commented and Cersei narrowed her eyes at him. But he didn't shrink back.

"He knows," She continued, "About the baby." She said this with a small little smile that gave Jaime very little warmth, "and of course he asked that we help."

"Will you?"

Cersei had refused to travel North to see the blasted thing and the Starks thought it too dangerous to attempt to bring it all the way south. Not to mention there had been rumours that the King in the North had been gravely wounded. Qyburn had, in all his cleverness, suggested the Crown send someone in their place. An informant of sorts to validify if the wight truly existed. The single rider had gone North, confirmed the existence of the wights and was currently making haste back to the capitol.

It had been enough for Jaime to know that it was real. Especially when he'd received word from his brother. He dared not mention to Cersei that he had been in communication with Tyrion more than once.

"He's leaving," She said instead looking out the window at the ships leaving the bay.

Jaime snorted, "What did you expect from Euron Greyjoy?" he couldn't help but sound slightly smug as he added, "He abandoned you." Just like I knew he would.

"Gods you really are the stupidest Lannister," Cersei said snidely. Jaime could only gape in surprise at her. "He has not abandoned me. He's leaving to ferry my army back across the Narrow Sea to me."

"What army?"

"The one I bought." She said smugly.

"The Golden Company," Jaime said in ugly realization. There had been rumours but even he knew they could not afford it. "But how?"

"Don't concern yourself over things you don't understand." She said almost cruelly.

Jaime scowled. "And what do you plan to do with the Golden Company?" he demanded.

She reclined back in her chair with an awful, smug look on her face. "I plan on letting my enemies exhaust themselves against the Army of the Dead and perhaps even against each other. Whatever remains of them will be swept away with my army."

"You'd let them die just so you can be queen?" he asked disgustedly.

"I am the Queen!" she cried.

"Do you realise that either the white walkers will march south or the Starks will come seeking revenge?" Jaime asked her. "And what do you think the people will say when they find out you essentially left them to die? You're their Queen!" She didn't seem entirely bothered by that fact.

Rather, she smiled as if she knew a secret he didn't. He knew she probably had a few secrets she did not share with him. Jaime felt nothing but anger and disgust at his sister. She'd purposely not told him about her plans with Euron and the Golden Company. He always assumed she would send aid. But it seems once again he had misjudged her.

"Let them come," She challenged looking him in the eye.

"You lied to me," Jaime said with something bordering white-hot anger.

"You betrayed me." She countered

"I have been faithful to you all my life," Jaime argued.

"Conspiring against me with that little monster; is that not betrayal?" she snapped.

"I never conspired," Jaime said. He looked at her almost sadly, "I was never your enemy."

"Everyone is my enemy."

Jaime knew what he had to do at that moment. His heart sank and his stomach twisted horribly. He knew what he had to do but he hated that it had come to this. This woman, untrustworthy, manipulative and power-mad was so far from the ambitious woman he'd once loved. There was very little of her left if any and it certainly made what he had to do next just a little easier.

"I was never your enemy. I would have stood by you." Jaime told her. "But I won't stand by this. I swore an oath and I will honour it."

She laughed a cold wretched sound. "What do you know of honour?"

Jaime gnashed his teeth together, biting down on his reply. He'd suffered enough dishonour in one lifetime, even if all he ever thought to do was the right thing. No one wanted to hear that. No one wanted to believe it had been the right thing to do. Killing his own King. He knew plenty of honour, he'd just never been given the opportunity to do the honourable thing.

Until now.

"I'm trying to save what is left of this family." Cersei continued. "In times like there is very little place for useless things like honour, as I'm sure you're aware." She levelled him with a calculating.

She didn't say it but he heard it all the same. Kingslayer.

"I will not stand here and do nothing," Jaime said vehemently.

"And what do you intend to do?" She asked plainly amused.

"Ride North," Jaime answered. He was a little ashamed to say that he was quite pleased with the disdainful look on her face. "I will go North and fight."

"You will do no such thing!" Cersei ordered.

"Are you going to stop me?" he asked.

"I am your Queen!" she reminded him.

"And I will not let those people fight this war alone," Jaime said resolutely.

She ground her teeth together, clearly unhappy but did not reply. When she said no more, Jaime turned to leave only to find his way blocked by the Mountain.

"Move," he demanded.

"If you leave, I'll have you marked and killed as a traitor," Cersei threatened desperately.

Jaime looked back at her and then quite calmly said, "Do it." He saw her façade falter and would have smiled had the situation been not so dire. "Go on, have your beast strike me down. I won't stay so you might as well kill me!"

Cersei looked positively furious but she said nothing, could say no more as Jaime called out her bluff.

"Tell him to kill me or get out of my way," Jaime told her.

But still, she said nothing. The Mountain stood tall and unflinching waiting for a command that never came.

Jaime almost thought she would, but he knew as much as she did; Cersei did love him and she would not have been able to give that order.

He didn't look back as he left the room, the grumble of the Mountain the last thing he heard as he walked away from the only woman he ever loved.

It was just him riding North and getting ready did not take all that long. As he rode out of the castle gates, looking back over, he imagined he saw her still standing at the window looking down at him. When the city gates neared, he did not slow down, only briefly surprised that Cersei had not sent the White Cloaks after him. As the city gates loomed over and he passed through, he saw it. The first embers of winter as snowflakes fell gracefully around him. His face set with grim determination as he forced his steed into a faster stride. There was no denying he'd made the right choice now.

He thought on those blasted famous words of the Northern king; winter had finally come to the south.

Jaime travelled along the Kingsroad, with the minimum stops. If he could travel through the shit and mud with his rotting hand wrapped around his neck then he could make the voyage to the North with no fuss at all. A few had been surprised to see the Kingslayer on the road and a few more were hesitant enough to keep their distance. Their whispers followed him well enough though, it always did.

He had hated the North the last time he'd been there. It was wet and dreary and too fucking cold. This time made no improvements on his initial assessment. Though, his mood was greatly tempered by the harsh weather this time around and not just having to listen to his late good – brother's drunken drawl. Gods, Cersei had been completely miserable the last time they came this way and Robert's presence had only worsened it.

As he neared Winterfell, Jaime was careful to avoid detection by Jon Snow's army who had set up camp in the surrounding areas around the castle. He would have been surprised by the numbers Jon Snow had managed to acquire but he knew that the loyalty of the Northern lords was not something he would likely ever experience first hand.

He was stopped at the gates by the guards and requested to speak with the King in the North. They demanded to know who he was but Jaime wasn't entirely comfortable revealing himself to anyone but Jon Snow. He was not sure how warm of a reception he'd received from the small folk.

"The King is very busy," the imposingly large man at the gate said. "Now state yeh business or fuck off."

Jaime sighed. He knew it wouldn't be so easy. "Tell the King, Ser Jaime Lannister is here to see him."

The guards looked at each other wearily and the one mumbled something before he turned and left to get the King, Jaime hoped. It was just Jaime and the other guard now. They waited in tense awkward silence, deciding it best not to talk to each other further. In the distance, he could hear the clang of steel in the courtyard.

Jaime had grown almost impatient when at last the guard returned. Only he did not come back with the King in the North. In his place, was a younger lad, with dark brown hair, holding a sword quite comfortably in his hand.

"What brings you here, Kingslayer?" the lad asked.

"Answering the call. Your King did ask for our help did he not?"

The man looked at him, then pointedly around him. "Our King asked your sister to lend her armies to the Great War. Where is your army?"

Jaime felt ashamed as he answered. "There is none. It's just me."

The men looked rather grim at his answer but none voiced their surprise over it. The younger man motioned for the guards to let him through. Jaime got off his horse and followed him.

"You are?" Jaime asked curiously.

"Gendry," the lad answered. "Smith at arms." He walked them through the courtyard.

Many stopped and stared in shock at the sight of Jaime in Winterfell once again. Many, far more than he cared to have noticed, glared and scowled angrily. He could not fault them for that.

"Wait here," Gendry ordered as they came to a set of double doors that had been closed. He turned and gave Jaime a once over before slipping inside. Jaime was almost tempted to follow but he cast a glance around noticing that while Gendry might have left him alone, he was not unattended per se. There were plenty of watchful eyes currently on him.

It was then that Jaime noticed the air around Winterfell sang a little differently. Despite the bleak times, he could hear the merriment and laughter from behind the doors. Was it always like this? He wondered.

Gendry came back rather quickly and Jaime hoped this time, he'd be permitted to see the King. How difficult was it to see one bloody King?

"A bit presumptuous to be celebrating before the battle don't you think?" Jaime smarted, annoyed that he'd been made to wait more than anything else.

Gendry smirked. "Your sword, Ser Jaime." He said gesturing to the blade at his side. Instinctively Jaime clutched the hilt of it a little closer. "You can understand why we can't allow you to take that in."

"Yes, yes I am the Kingslayer but honestly do you think I rode all this way to kill your King?" Jaime asked annoyed.

Gendry shrugged, "That's not the name that gives us concern."

So not because I'm a Kingslayer but because I'm a Lannister, Jaime thought. It was rather humbling to think that would be the name people objected to more than the other.

"Your sword," Gendry demanded. "And blade." He added glancing down suspiciously at Jaime's boot.

Sighing, deeply reluctant, Jaime removed his sword and the two extra blades, handing them over to Gendry.

"You'd best mind yourself now Kingslayer," Gendry warned. "You'll find no friends here."

Jaime didn't respond to that, instead, he quietly followed as Gendry pushed open the doors. Jon Snow came into focus. He was so easily distinguishable. Despite being a bastard, there was something seemingly Kingly about him at that moment. He seemed far greater a King in that moment surrounded by the austere settings of Winterfell than Joffrey had ever done dressed and crowned in the capital. Beside Jon Snow stood a pretty woman, Jaime had never seen before. She clutched his arm, watching closely as Jaime neared.

"My lords," Jaime greeted as graciously as his pride would allow. "Your Grace," he greeted Jon surprising them all.

"Ser Jaime," Jon said slowly. "They tell me you've come alone."

"That is correct."

There was a tense silence as Jon Snow looked him over, Jaime thought perhaps he was trying to decide what to do next. He very much hoped it would not be to throw him in the dungeons or set that monstrous wolf he eyed beside him. He'd never been fond of Robb Stark's wolf but this one completely unnerved him.

"So, your sister sends us no help as we fight to protect the realm?" a feminine voice said.

With an awful sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he turned to see Sansa Stark standing there.

"Yes."

"You would align yourself with us, even if it means going against your sister; your queen?" Sansa clarified.

"I know my word might not mean much to you – "

"It doesn't," Sansa told him.

Jaime sighed. "I swore an oath to protect the realm. Despite what many may think, I have never betrayed that vow."

"You killed your own King." One of the lords objected.

"To stop him from burning down the city," Jaime said. "Everyone thinks they know of Aerys' madness but they don't. No one knows the lengths he was willing to go to keep himself as King."

"No one but you?" Another lord snorted derisively.

"I was there. Always there." Jaime said swallowing down the bile as the memories of another lifetime came to the forefront. He turned back to Jon Snow. "I am here to fight; for the living. That is all you need to know."

The King in the North looked rather contemplative as did the woman by his side. Curiously, the couple looked at each other, as if having some sort of silent conversation before Jon Snow looked back at him.

"The North welcomes your aid, Ser Jaime," Jon said. "Arrangements shall be made for your stay." Jaime almost smiled in relief at those words.

"You'd trust this man after everything his family has done to your family? To the North? How can we be sure it's not some trick by him and his sister?" One of the lords objected.

Jon sighed looking at Jaime almost tiredly. "We have no time for such games. If he is offering to help, I shall not refuse it. We need every able-bodied swordsman." Jon looked back to the woman beside him for a moment and then he spoke again. "I don't need to trust him. I just need to trust his sword."

AN:

Thank you to all the wonderful readers who have shown this story such immense love! I am left speechless each week as i read the comments. Things are really heating up and while this might feel like a bit of filler chapter it was actually rather fun to write.

Don't forget to leave your thoughts and i'll be seeing you next week for the next update.

Stay safe!