"And me, that boy I was … when did he die, I wonder? When I donned the white cloak? When I opened Aerys's throat? " - Jaime VIII, A Storm of Swords
The air was strange.
But the days of late had been too.
Jaime stood in the outer yard of the keep watching as the queen bid goodbye to Brandon Stark and the Arryns. Why she thought it was necessary was beyond comprehension. But Elia was ever kind, he reasoned. Though she'd saved the northerner's life already. Surely this was not necessary.
After bidding goodbye to the Vale lord, the queen turned her attention to the wolf. "Remember to keep safe." Brandon Stark's grey eyes no longer held the coldness Jaime had grown accustomed to seeing. Quite the opposite, in fact. "Please do write if needed. As the king and I both said, we..." Elia faltered for a moment before speaking again. "We want to make sure our relations with the north are secure." And then there was only silence. Jaime felt his head turn in curiosity as he took in Brandon Stark's intense gaze upon the queen.
The air was strange indeed.
The northern lord grasped the queen's hand delicately, bringing it to his lips. "I will not forget your kindness, my queen. If the gods are good, we shall meet again." It felt like an hour passed before he released her hand - and her gaze. Finally he took the reins from the stablehand and mounted his horse. Jaime watched as Brandon Stark looked behind him - to the queen, then the castle - before spurring his horse to leave the red grounds that were a curse to his family. A trail of dust kicked up and around him and his companions, clouding their exit through the main gate.
Jaime was glad to see the back of him. Brandon Stark was only another reminder of how powerless he'd felt against Aerys. As he walked behind and in step with Queen Elia back towards the keep, he could not help but think that the woman should be glad to be done with the northerner and the grief that had descended since he came yelling for Rhaegar that fateful day. And yet the Dornishwoman's face was grimmer than Cersei's when father had sent him to squire for Lord Crakehall.
The wind brushed around them and lifted his white cloak, making it feel lighter than it had since he came here from Harrenhal. At least the Kingsguard were seven again, not five, now that Dayne and Whent were back. Jaime thought he'd heard the king mention Dorne but he knew they would not have gone there. Surely he could not be so -
No, the knight stopped his thoughts from going too far. What had Hightower said on that awful day, full of charred flesh and smoke? Yes, he was here to guard, not judge. So instead, Jaime took a deep breath, the air - perhaps more tense than strange - traveling through him like a dense fog. Things would be better now, surely. Aerys was the problem - and he was gone. Rhaegar would not burn people. He would not harm his wife.
Not physically, he thought. He hoped. Though of course he had already hurt the queen in other ways, the young knight could not help but think. The Mad King had been kind and charismatic once too, his father had told him. Until he wasn't.
And Aerys had won against his father in the end, Jaime laughed bitterly to himself. For I am here and a Kingsguard serves for life.
He looked to Queen Elia and then let his eyes scan their surroundings. Surely there was no danger here, but he did it nonetheless. Harmless and clear as expected, his gaze shifted up to take in the colossal red structure where his father has spent so many years. Jaime wondered if Tywin Lannister was cursing himself for not daring to make Cersei Rhaegar's second wife. In that case, it would surely be less than a fortnight until she was his only wife, of course. Though for now, the northern girl was as likely to be a true wife as Jaime was to be a maester. It had spread quickly through the keep and the city - and surely the realm - that the High Septon had made his opinion known on the matter.
Take comfort in that, sweet sister.
And the Stark girl herself knew the septon's verdict, as well - and had made her own thoughts known. It'd been impossible not to hear. Cersei likely heard the wildling from the Rock. First Lyanna Stark had raged at her brother for leaving and then at the king for 'feeding her sweet lies, for making her a mistress.' Insipid girl. The king swore he would prevail, though Jaime did not see how. Cersei would have gelded the man by now - or killed her sister-wife. Perhaps both.
Cersei.
He didn't even bother to fight the thoughts of her. Golden hair twirling through his hands, pristine flesh pressed against him and soft lips on his neck as she whispered their blissful future to him. Those thoughts had comforted him through the horrors of Aerys, they were so powerful. His twin filled his mind as much as air filled his lungs, the need for both the same.
Perhaps there was still hope. Cersei would come here and they would be together. And he would be a knight as great as the Sword of the Morning. Surely there is a way.
"Ser Jaime," the queen beckoned to him then, waking him from his thoughts. They had neared the end of the yard now. "You are very quiet, is all well?"
No honorable ways, of course. He left that dark path of thought and instead, summoned a smirk that was always at the ready. "Of course, my queen. Just meditating on how lovely it is to be in your presence."
Elia scoffed at that. "Flattery and lies do not become you," she challenged with a smile, though it did not quite meet her eyes.
I think they become me too well. "If I am quiet and serious, perhaps it is because I follow as my liege does," the knight dared back, hoping to end her inquiry.
He regretted his words a bit when he saw her expression change, falling slightly. "You're quite right, Jaime. I - I find that I am tired," she replied quietly. "Forgive me." He almost hated how kind she was to him - even if he knew he also basked in it. But the knight deserved no kindness, he remembered - not from her. Surely Elia knew how little the Kingsguard had protected queens before. There was living proof right in the castle after all.
And if she did not know, he hoped she would never have cause to.
They finally made it to the steps of the keep then. "Are you well?" he asked, giving her his hand as they walked up. "Do you need to see the maester, my queen?"
"No, no," she laughed. But the way she brushed away his question was with near the same emotion he had done away with hers naught a minute ago. "I have correspondence I must see to."
As they made their way to her solar, his armor clinked like the tick of a clock. He could not help but think about his father again and what he was doing now. Planning. So many deals had been made here, surely he knew by now. Aerys was gone and Jaime expected that his father would want to have him leave the Kingsguard. But the vow was for life, was it not? And surely even some things were beyond Lannister power.
Father would disown me just for that thought. No matter that it was true - more so now that the king had already challenged the Faith. Rhaegar would be a fool to risk it again just to be in his father's good graces.
They were just turning a corner when they were met with the queen dowager and her youngest son.
"Elia," Rhaella breathed, greeting the young queen with a kiss to each cheek. "We were just going for a small excursion. Viserys wanted to swim." Jaime continued to marvel at how different she seemed now, for the better - though it was not truly any wonder. And surely it was no thanks to him and his brothers.
The young prince went swiftly to the queen, clasping one hand in his own. "You'll come, won't you, Aunt Elia?" Viserys pleaded.
Some joy at last seemed to bloom on the queen's face. "Of course, if you wish it, my dear. I'll just go through my letters quickly and come to you." Then she bent slightly to cup one cheek tenderly. "And on my way, I shall stop by the kitchen to fetch your favorite foods, how does that sound?"
"Yes! Blood oranges!" the boy said eagerly. Then he glanced up at his mother before looking back to the queen. "And honey cakes?"
Elia looked to Rhaella for an answer to that, receiving a small nod and smile. "And honey cakes," she confirmed. That earned her a swift but fierce hug around her thin waist before the boy departed with his mother, guards in tow. He was as energetic as Tyrion, a bit haughty though that was to be expected. Father had thrown a tournament for Prince Viserys when he was born. And Aerys had come with no babe and an insult for father and his twin. I wonder if father would try to wed Cersei to him when he is of age. A voice in his head told him the queen dowager would not let that come to pass somehow.
"She seems...much better," Jaime couldn't help but observe of Rhaella to the queen as they resumed their walk. He knew she did not mind him speaking so casually with her.
"Much." Elia's face was all relief. Then she turned to him with a small smile. "I think perhaps our mothers would be happy that we are here with her. Even if this is not quite how they planned our future."
"I believe they had quite different plans, Your Grace." As soon as he said that, he felt himself blush like a greenboy and felt an idiot. But the queen seemed to brighten, a true laugh falling from her lips, and it was so pleasant, his embarrassment washed away.
"Yes, so they did." But not your father, was what went so clearly unsaid.
When they reached her quarters, she walked to her desk. "I'll not be long, Ser Jaime," she advised him and began looking through the letters. One seemed to bring a brief smile to her face. Perhaps from her family in Dorne, he thought as he began to pull the heavy door shut. But he stopped for a moment to look at the queen once more. The letters were on the table alone now. Elia had gone to the window, her fingers pressed to the glass and her eyes staring far out.
When Jaime finally pulled the door shut, he couldn't but think she looked as though she was searching for something.
It was a beautiful day, if not a bit chilly. But it did not bother her son, he was so thrilled to be running in and out of the water. Rhaella smiled as Viserys kicked at the sand and water as it washed in, watching with delight as the mixture of the two flew into the air. The clouds were beginning to fade and as the sun hit the water that had sprung from his swift kicks, the droplets sparkled like stars. The waves had created a soothing rhythm that swayed in the air. It was idyllic, blissful. And had been all too rare for so many years.
The lull came to a brief halt when Viserys began jumping and shouting and waving his hands excitedly. Rhaella turned to see Elia coming to them, basket in hand and Jaime Lannister just behind.
"Well, he will most certainly sleep well tonight," Elia laughed as she sat down on the quilt laid out beneath them.
"We could never have done this when Aerys was alive," Rhaella mused. "Viserys always wanted to come out and swim. But it was no use. We could barely leave our rooms." Now she wanted to spend as long outside as they could.
Rhaella thought back to the night when Aerys rid them of his presence once and for all. Such a gift as your final act, brother. He and the alchemist fools had been so sure. Even after so much ruin their family had already experienced trying similar acts in the past, but her brother thought he was above it all. Or he chose to forget. Either way, sometimes she still could not believe all it had taken was a carefully written letter and the right seal in the end.
"They have not questioned Rossart and the other pyromancers yet, it seems," she pondered out loud to Elia, picking up sand on the edge of the quilt and letting it run through her fingers to scatter down once more. When the wind brushed past them, Rhaella rubbed her arms for warmth, her sandy fingertips grazing over the scars Aerys had given her. The last ones had come after he burned Lord Stark.
Elia hummed in confirmation. "I believe they had been waiting for Rhaegar at first. But then he was...well, preoccupied."
Viserys had begun to try to build a castle in the sand now. Perhaps the water had become too cold. The clouds were moving in and out, unable to decide if they would let the sun shine or not. "They'll have to eventually," Rhaella replied. "And they may want the letter." The only people close by were Barristan Selmy and Joanna's boy, but still, she was glad that the sound of the waves created a small wall of protection for their words.
"You were distraught that night." Elia's face was all calmness as she continued to gaze out towards the water. "It must have fallen from your hands when you were overcome with emotion, is that not so?"
Yes, of course. That was why afterwards, the two of them retreated to her room for a glass of wine. She needed to calm herself, anyone could reason. As she and Elia had sat in her room and the fire crackled, Rhaella had looked over the parchment that had sealed Aerys's fate in her hands. The parchment that she and Elia had taken such care to write and make sure it found its way to the Guild.
No one would have stood up against Aerys. Not lords, not the men behind her nor their other brothers in white. Lord Stark's screams of pain had fallen on deaf ears, just as hers had for so long. It seemed no one would put an end to the horror and madness.
So if not her, then who? And when? She would never know now. And it would not have succeeded if her brother had not always thought bigger and grander than reality ever gave. But, of course, she had known that when she put the quill to paper.
"Do you think they will remember that they handed the letter over to me?" Rhaella had asked Elia when they'd sat together that night, the corpse of her brother most likely still burning from the inside below the throne.
Her good-daughter's voice had been naught but a whisper. "I think there is a fair chance they shall not, they were all in such a state of shock."
Truth be told, Rhaella wondered if any questions would be asked at all. Despite the horrid sight, she did not think anyone was truly surprised Aerys would try such a thing. And after all, it was just ink and parchment - and aren't words just wind? And when she had dropped the letter into the fire that night, they were not even that.
She was roused from the images of that night when Elia took her hand in her own. Her skin was warm like the sun that had come back out now. "If they ask, we will sort it out. I was with you afterwards. And I do not remember any letter."
For a moment, Rhaella saw the face of her old friend in the young woman before her. What would you think of all this, Loreza? Am I weak for needing her? Or because it took me so long to find a way out? Rhaella clasped Elia's hand back solidly and nodded. After a moment of contemplation, she finally spoke. "I only regret that we did not act sooner."
As they sat at the shore watching Viserys, the ripples of the parchment crumpling into the fire that night receded to the far parts of her mind. Instead, Rhaella let her mind take in her son's laughter, the feel of the sun bathing her - and the air, had it ever been so fresh?
She could not feel her scars anymore.
