"What are you doing here, Baratheon?" Ser Jaime asked again now that Jacqueline had managed to silence her crying. They were on their way to the Lannister camp now, with Jacqueline riding with Ser Jaime followed by a few of the Lannister guards he had brought with him to investigate the road. They had left the other behind, to deal her dead horse and the two captives. The third had bled out on top of Jacqueline before Jaime had arrived. The evidence of it was soaked into her satin dress and smeared across her face and neck.
Jacqueline kept her eyes on the ever-growing line of tents in the distance, afraid they would disappear again. "Lady Stark," She began. "She took-"
She was cut off by a rather loud exasperated sigh from Jaime, who sat on behind her on the saddle. "We know, Jacqueline. Catelyn Stark has taken Tyrion to Winterfell. You need not bother yourself with it. You're too dutiful for your own good, my lady." His voice was bored but Jacqueline thought she heard a bit of anger of in it. Is was angry, but at Jacqueline's attempt to help or the fact that she had nearly gotten herself killed, she wasn't sure.
"You mean, 'too stupid'?" Jacqueline turned around to look at him. His golden hair twisted in the wind but his usual smirk only appeared when he caught her looking at him. "She hasn't taken him to Winterfell," Jacqueline corrected a bit too harshly, causing his smirk to falter a bit. "I followed them. They turned east into the Vale. She's taking Tyrion to the Eyrie. To her sister, Lysa Arryn." Jacqueline turned away then, not caring what Jaime thought of the information. Her trek through the Riverlands had been pointless. She had been stupid.
When they finally reached the camp, Jacqueline noticed many of the men were walking around in armor, prepared for battle despite the lack of an apparent enemy. The five men that Jaime had bought to help Jacqueline wore armor, unlike Jaime who wore a simple leather doublet. "Why are all these men here, Ser Jaime? So far from Casterly Rock but so close to the Riverlands?" She asked, forgetting her anger at herself and him for a moment.
Jaime remained silent for a moment as they rode through the rows of red tents that were pitched atop the green, fertile grass. He pulled the horse to a halt outside a more stable looking tent built in what appeared to be the center of camp. "They're here to get Tyrion back," Jaime responded before dismounting. Jacqueline looked at him as he placed his hands on her hips to lift her from the horse. His blonder hair shone in the sun but the smirk had yet to reappear and his green eyes seemed troubled. Jacqueline wanted a clearer answer but Jaime never gave her the option to ask again.
"I'll share your information with my lord father on your behalf," Jaime said as he pulled open the flap of the tent. He sounded almost bored as he said it. "I'm sure you'd like the time to rest before you start your journey for King's Landing in the morning."
Forgoing any signs of gratitude, Jacqueline walked into the tent without another look at Ser Jaime. The tent was smaller than she expected on the inside but still luxuriously furnished. Myrish carpets covered the floor and a thick wardrobe was placed in the corner. The bed, covered in heavy red blankets, was low and small but it looked comfortable enough. A set of artfully carved wooden chairs were placed at the foot of the bed next to a table with a wash basin.
When she was finished surveying the tent she looked down at herself. The dress was ruined; blood had splattered and stained the pale pink fabric creating a rather ghastly scene. Jacqueline went to the wash basin and rubbed the blood from her hands and face. She was not sure of the source of the blood; her dead horse or the man she had killed. Either one terrified her. The water in the small glass basin quickly turned from clear to pink and then to red. Feeling a bit sick, she dried her face and hands before turning away.
Jacqueline started on her dress then. She did not notice that her hands were shaking until she tried to unlace the bloodstained bodice of her dress. Her unsteady hands were creating more knots instead of undoing the ones that were already there. Suddenly, another pair of hands was unlacing the strings for her. Jacqueline had not heard Ser Jaime enter the tent, carrying her saddlebag over his shoulder which he placed in the empty corner of the tent. "What are you doing?" Jacqueline asked harshly, but she allowed him to continue to loosen her dress nonetheless.
"I'm helping." He answered softly. Jacqueline wanted to yell at him to get out but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She had killed a man and when she closed her eyes, she saw the blood gushing from the wound in his neck. The wound she created. Warm, new tears started to trail down her cheeks, remaining her even more of the warm blood that had dotted her face. When Jaime was done with the dress, she expected him to leave her but instead he just stood there with his hands gripping the now untied strings. "Why are you crying?" His words were blunt but there was no annoyance or harshness in his tone as there had been before.
"Because he left me!" Jacqueline sobbed. "Robert left me behind with those strangers like I was nothing more than a common bed maid. I'm his sister. But he left me and I had to ride across half the damn continent alone…and I almost…" Her voice broke then and she covered her face to hide her tears and words behind her now clean hands. She hated herself for crying in front of the Kingslayer but all the stress was too much.
Jaime said nothing about her outburst and allowed her to cry in silence. Instead he pushed her dress away to put his hand on her ribs. When he applied pressure a sharp pain spread across her side. Jacqueline tried to push his hand away even though the pain had already begun to recede. "Your ribs aren't broken, just bruised. But don't go falling off anymore horses for a while." Jaime said quietly, keeping his hand on her side, an action that Jacqueline was quite aware of. Again, silence filled the tent as the two simply looked at each other. After a moment, Jaime lifted his free hand and placed it under her chain and angled her head up to look at him directly in the face. His eyes were the same captivating green, as always. Then he kissed her.